In the Days of Hellscream

Waking up on the sand with the sun shining down on her, Vartokk begins to lift her head from the ground. Without a cloud in the sky and the warmth of the sun wrapping around her like a blanket, losing Zuni feels like a dream; but as her awareness increases, she looks around to see the bodies of fallen soldiers, Naga and Darkspear alike. Coming to the realization that the battle was not just a dream, Vartokk scans over the corpses that litter the beach. Panic rising within her heart, her eyes focus on one.

Kneeling beside Zuni, Za’tarri, Vol’jin, and Vanira have solemn expressions on their faces. Vartokk can feel her mind grow hazy and sobs begin to choke her. She works her way slowly towards the corpse of the man she loves, her entire body screaming in protest.

Hearing the sounds of her struggle, Za’tarri and Vol’jin rush to her side, each of them grabbing an arm to help her up. Trying to step forward, Vartokk can feel herself being pulled away from Zuni. Tears blurring her vision, she tries to tear herself away from the strong hands holding her back.
“Vartokk, please,” Za’tarri pleads, tears welling in his own eyes at seeing his friend’s pain.

“No!” Vartokk yells, her voice raspy from screaming, “I need ta see him.”

“Don’t do dis ta yourself, V,” Za’tarri continues.

Vartokk hangs her head, “please,” she whispers, her voice breaking.

Opening his mouth to continue his plea, Za’tarri stops when Vol’jin places his free hand on his shoulder. Za’tarri can see the pan in Vol’jin’s eyes as he nods his head, a single tear falling. With a heavy sigh, Za’tarri releases Vartokk, allowing her to scramble forward to Zuni’s corpse. Leaning over him, she places one hand on each cheek and presses her forehead to his. Her mouth moves, but Za’tarri cannot hear her words until he steps closer.

“I’m so sorry Zuni. I love you. Dis is all my fault.”

Vartokk’s word astonish Za’tarri as he rushes forward to comfort her, “V, ya can’t blame yourself for dis. Ya couldn’t have stopped what happened.”

Vartokk pushes him away, clinging to Zuni’s lifeless body. Za’tarri looks up at Vol’jin just as his expression of concerns and grief shifts into one of realization. He kneels down in front of Vartokk, gently cupping her chin in his hand, bringing her gaze to meet his.

“Vartokk, where is Zuni’s breastplate? Why wasn’t he wearing it?” Vol’jin asks the questions, but from his expression, it is clear he knows the answers.

Confused, Za’tarri watches as Vartokk’s face twists in pain. Averting her gaze, she rips her face from Vol’jin’s hand and hangs her head. Sobs choking her once again, her tears fall into the empty cavern that once held Zuni’s beating heart. Her entire body shakes as she repeats her apologies, clutching to the tattered fabric of Zuni’s shirt. Vanira begins to open her mouth to say something, but stops when Vol’jin raises his hand.

Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he asks, “Is it in your hut? You know he will need it for a proper burial ceremony.”

Vartokk sucks a shaky breath into her lungs and nods her head. Za’tarri removes his hand from her shoulders, falling back onto the sand, confused. He doesn’t understand what goes through Vol’jins mind in this moment, but suddenly he feels angry with Vartokk.

“You let him remove his armor?” he says through clenched teeth, his body shaking as his mind races.
Narrowing her eyes at Vartokk, Vanira says in disbelief, “ She didn’t just let him remove it… You helped him didn’t you?” Vartokk cringes, but Vanira continues, her voice harsh, “Ya gave in ta lust and temptation and did somethin’ dat left him vulnerable.”

Vartokk’s composure breaks as Vanira’s words cut her like a knife. Za’tarri, putting the pieces of the puzzle together, watches the scene unfold in front of him. His stomach twists and he begins to feel light-headed. He had thought Zuni removed his breastplate due to the unusually warm weather, but now he sees the truth of what happened.

How could I have been so blind? He scolds himself, Var. Zuni. It all makes sense now.

“What you did lead to da death of my son,” Vanira seethes, tears streaming steadily from her eyes, falling onto the blood-stained sand. She stands, raising the heavy wooden staff in her hands.

Vartokk lowers her head, exposing the base of her skull and preparing for the blow.

“Stop!” Vol’jin’s voice raises as he rips the staff from the hands of the vengeful mother, “There has been enough bloodshed on da shores of our home taday, and I will not be havin’ my people turnin’ against one anotha in dis dark time.”

Vanira glares at Vartokk, her fists clenched. Vol’jin looks between the two of them, sympathy written on his face.

“Vanira, dear. Ya can’t blame one for da mutual decision of two,” He soothes, wrapping his arms around her.

Collapsing into his embrace, Vanira’s anger melts away and grief takes its place. Her cries and screams are muffled as she buries her face in Vol’jin’s shoulder. He continues to comfort her, running his hand through her hair.

Still clinging to Zuni, Vartokk feels a hand on her shoulder. The light touch is familiar to her, and she can feel a sort of calm wash over her like a cool river’s water on a hot day. Looking up, she squints against the sunlight to see her mother, Zerttraz, standing over her.

“I’m so sorry Vartokk,” she says, her tone calm and melodic, “But ‘tis time to move forward my child. We must prepare him for burial.”

Vartokk takes another look at Zuni. His face looks peaceful, almost happy; but a vision of his pain-stricken expression in his final seconds flashes before her eyes, forcing her to look away. Standing slowly, she takes her mother’s hand. Coaxing Vanira to follow, Zerttraz drapes her arm around her shoulders and leads both heart-broken women back to Darkspear Village. Vol’jin and Za’tarri lift Zuni from the ground and follow close behind.