Melicinth's blog

Hope

The morning sun peeked through the faded blue curtains of her window, a single beam, like a finger of light, reached in to touch her brittle black tresses where they spread across the pillow. With a smile she rose quickly, dressed and rushed out to the kitchen of her tiny cottage. Today would be the day he came home! Today would be the day that her world was set to rights. This morning, like every morning, she greeted the day with a healthy dose of herbal tea and hope.

((This is a lot longer than I usually like to make my posts but once I got started I couldn't stop. ))

Volmat stood watching Melicinth take little, brightly colored packages and sort them into piles, one for green, one for orange and so on. “Where’d ya get all that candy Meli?” he asked.

The warlock smiled proudly as she replied, “I went trick or treating all across Kalmidor and the Eastern Kingdom!”

The imp jumped up on the table, knocking a few pieces of candy off on the floor and earning him a frown from the forsaken woman standing nearby. “Trick or treating; what’s that?”

Ormmon floated into the room, peering closely at Melicinth as she calmly brushed her hair. “How was the party mother?” he asked.

The warlock looked up, meeting the eyes of the voidwalker in the mirror, “Interesting.” She answered with a finality that told the demon she didn’t wish to discuss it further.

It had taken several days for Melicinth to rouse herself from her chair. Volmat had long given up his pouting at her knee but Ormmon continued to keep vigil, the fel blue clouds beneath him roiling black and bilious as his worry and frustration grew. But finally, on the third day, the sun shone through the dusty window pane and Melicinth had risen and gone into the kitchen and began making breakfast as if nothing had happened.

The voidwalker hovered nearby, watching intently as the forsaken woman made omelets with bits of mushrooms, cheese and ham, cut up snapevine watermelon and set tall glasses of milk by each plate, all the while humming tunelessly to herself.

“Why do you look so worrisome dear?” she asked the voidwalker, patting his arm affectionately as she brushed pasted him.

Ormmon watched the warlock, worry marring his normally stern countenance.  She hadn’t moved since they’d arrived at the cottage in Brill; she just sat in her rocking chair, the gentle thump of the rockers hitting the floor the only sound to break the deafening silence. Even Volmat, after taking one look at their mistress, had judiciously held his tongue, though he wrung his hands nervously.

The warlock descended the rickety stairs to the basement hidden below her workshop, waving a hand to light the myriad candles that lined the walls, sat on shelves and tabletops to illuminate the room like the coming of dawn. She stopped midway, her gaze lingering on the crumpled form as she pulled on a pair of thick, leather reinforced woolen gloves.

Seething with anger Melicinth turned and with a harsh chopping motion of her hand banished Volmat and Ormmon to the nether. Betlia had not returned since the night the warlock and voidwalker had come home from Northrend. The succubus’ flagrant disobedience infuriated the forsaken woman so that she trembled with rage as she made her way to her workshop at the back of the cottage.

Stepping through the door Melicinth paid no mind to the piles of gems that cluttered a tabletop or the spools of copper wire, boxes of settings and ore that she used in her jewel crafting. She made her way to the back of the room, hooked a rug with boney toes and tugged it out of the way to reveal a trapdoor.

The trip to Northrend had been hectic and it had been exhilarating. But Melicinth was glad ot be home, her steps were lively as she and Ormmon made their way into the cottage on the outskirts of Brill. As she entered the door something flew passed her nose, causing her to duck back out of the opening quickly, nearly colliding with the voidwalker at her back.

The paper airplane sailed across the room where Betlia snagged it with her tail and tossed it back to the imp who caught it deftly before it could hit Mrs. Collins in the face as she made another attempt to enter her home.

The forsaken woman looked around the house, a frown creasing her brow as she surveyed the succubus and her scandalous outfit. The she demon rose to her hooves and nodded a greeting to her mistress.

Betlia stewed in her anger at the mistress, plotting revenge for the mad woman’s cruel treatment. Finally an idea came to her and her bright blue eyes lit on the imp who bounced inanely from one foot to another, doing flips and flopping his ears as a means of entertaining himself.
 
“Volmat, want to play a game of hide and seek?” she purred.

The imp perked up and bounced excitedly, “Sure! But no hiding in the nether like last time. It took days for me to find you and Meli Colli was furious.”
 
“No, neither one of us is going to hide. This is a game for the mistress to solve. We are going to hide things from around the house so she can go search for them when she gets home. She’ll love a chance to play after being sent off to that frozen wasteland.”

She looked at the demons before her with a stern expression, “Ormmon and I are going to Northrend. The queen has requested” the word was laden with sarcasm “her subjects to do what we can in the war effort.”

Melicinth narrowed her eyes muttering, “If these duties in anyway muck up things for that fool Arthas I’m all for it.”

Betlia stamped a hooved foot on the floor, crossing her arms over her ample yet barely covered breasts and said, “You never let me go anywhere or have any fun!”

“You will stay here and look after your little brother Betlia.” Melicinth said in patient, motherly tones.
“He is not my brother!” the succubus all but screamed.

Narrowed eyes narrowed still further to mere slits as Melicinth turned a cold, hard gaze of the female demon, “Do not dare question me fel creature.

The young census worker took a sip of the tea Mrs. Collins had given her, then another, in an attempt to calm her rattled nerves.  Felling once more in control she looked up at the woman who sat across from her and asked, “How did you die ma’am? What happened to you before the awakening?”

Melicinth looked at the woman for a moment then said matter of factly. “I hate bread.”

The young forsaken woman entered the cottage, her bright golden eyes scanning the shadowy interior as she took a seat at a well worn kitchen table.
 
“I’m sorry to bother you ma’am. I just have a few questions for the census.” She said.

“Not to worry, would you like some tea? I’m sure you’re thirsty after talking to everyone in town.”
 

“Meli Colli is melancholy today.” sighed the imp as he flounced into the room and dropped onto a cushion on the floor.

“Mother is always melancholy.” replied the voidwalker who floated just above the rug.

“She’s not our mother. We’re demons. We don’t have mothers.” said the succubus as she examined her freshly polished nails.

“No, she’s our mistress and if it makes her happy to call us her children who are we to argue?” answered the voidwalker with a tone of infinite patience.