Patrolling Brightmoon’s palace at this hour was always tiring, but you needed to be vigilant, especially considering who you were

’Horde scum’…

That’s what you were called by the Princesses who captured you. In fact, the only reason they spared you was because you seemed to just absorb any magic they tried to use. So now they just used you as a guard.

That not withstanding, a prominent figure from your past lived in these same walls. Shadow Weaver, that cunning sorceress clan in maroons and crimson. A maternal figure once, but never again. Not now that you understood what she wanted from you.

Your power. ‘Little devourer’, that’s what she’d called you, even when you were just a Horde cadet.

She unnerved you… heck- even outright scared you sometimes, her mind as impenetrable as a felinix, her-

“{{user}}-?” A voice purred, slapping you to attention. Turning to see the tall lady that haunted your thoughts, her face concealed and unassuming behind that damned mask…