Puzzled

Lena sat at her table in her study in the house in Stormwind, peering through the goggles at the strange box she had found while on an archaeological dig in Northrend several years ago. The draenei had arrived on Azeroth, and once they had started establishing themselves, extracting themselves from the wreckage of the Exodar, Krastos had taken her to the northernmost continent to explore. She quickly made acquaintance with a number of archaeologists, who invited her to join them on an ongoing dig in Dragonblight.

The small trinket box seemed to call to her from the moment she clapped eyes on it. She had been alone in a far corner of the digsite when she found it, and quickly pocketed the tiny box. She looked around guiltily and tried to retain her normal cheerful inquisitiveness, but the secrets of the box seemed to possess her. It seemed to whisper to her, and she wondered if those around her could here the strange things that it told her. But no one seemed to notice.


She finally leaned back in her chair and rubbed her face, removing the goggles and pinching the bridge of her nose. For years, she had been trying to open the box, by magic, with her expansive tool collection, with anything she could think of. But it was late, and Krastos would be wondering why she wasn't in their bed. Then again, waking Krastos from a deep sleep was similar to trying to wake the dead. She reached out and traced her index finger over the lines of the box, eyes narrowed as it whispered to her.


Once away from the original digsite, back in the city of Dalaran, she scurried off to the library where she had immediately felt at home to examine the markings of the box, comparing the crude carvings to what was known about this strange new planet. From her reading and studying, she deduced from the markings and the whispers that emanated from the thing that the box was a relic of some sort, probably from one of the Old Gods, Yogg-Saron. The implications were astounding, but the box still wouldn't open. And it still whispered to her.

Open me! Open me! Open me! Then only will you know peace.

Lena withdrew her hand as if burned. The whispers grew louder in her head, beseeching her to open the box, to find the key, to release whatever was inside. Logic and reason told her that meddling with anything related to an Old God was certain to have disastrous consequences... but her curiosity was starting to overwhelm her. It beckoned. A tiny, crude trinket box called to her from the hidden safe she had had installed in her study, where she kept it when they were home in Stormwind. She felt horribly about keeping it from Krastos, but until she had any more information about what the box really was, she didn't want to risk involving him.

It was fashioned to look and feel like wood, but as Lena continued to analyze it, she found that she couldn't determine what the box was made of. It certainly wasn't any sort of metal or stone she had seen on Azeroth Or Draenor. Or even on Argus, so many millennia ago. She pulled her magnifying jewel-crafters goggles back down over her eyes and held the box under the small lamp she had made. Once again, she tested the seams of the container with magic, pushing and prodding as far as she could, but it only resulted in a rush of whispers so loud and fast that it made her lightheaded until she pulled back, heart beating fast inside her chest.

She sighed, defeated, and quickly returned the box to the safe, cleaning up her study, shoving her notes and papers into the safe as well. Clicking off the lamp, she sighed again and retreated, wrapping her robe tight around her as she shuffled quietly to the bedroom. Krastos was sleeping deeply, but when she slipped under the covers with him, he shifted and pulled her tight against him. Lena nestled her head under his chin and closed her eyes, listening to his heartbeat until it drowned out the whispers.


Look around... They will all betray you... Flee screaming into the black forest...


Lena let out a pained yowl, eyes wide as the minions of doubt advanced. One had gotten to her first, and she nearly spent herself as she cast spell after spell, attempting to at least stun it enough to drag herself away. Her leg was bleeding, but not broken, as she stumbled away from the advancing pack as fast as she could. She leaned heavily on her staff and threw a wall of ice before the sha-like creatures, slowing them considerably as she shouted for assistance. The Pandaren who patrolled the Temple of the Jade Serpent finally bounded into view, quickly containing the minions of doubt, banishing them back to the fissures in the earth from where they came. One of the healers made Lena sit while she worked on the injured leg, but Lena continued to cast spells to assist the Pandaren.

When it was over, Lena closed her eyes, trying to breathe normally. But the whispers were back. The voice - or was it voices? - taunted her now. She scrabbled for a small pouch that she kept on her belt, where the box resided. It was far too valuable for her to leave, even in a safe, in Stormwind. But, she grimaced as she thought, it came at a price. The whispers were loudest when the box was kept on her person, and here in Pandaria, it seemed it would drown out all her other thoughts.

She lay back in the grass in the courtyard of the Temple, trying to connect the dots. The voices were telling her that "they" would all betray her. And it might have started coming true. She had been steering clear of many social events, so consumed with studying and working as she was. Even Krastos occasionally commented that she was distant, or that she was hard to communicate with sometimes. Lena was beginning to wonder. The Sha were certainly a powerful force here. Did it have any connection to the box? To the Old God that whispered to her constantly?

Lifting her head, she peered at the Temple. It was rumored that the Sha of Doubt had once again emerged, breaking free of it's imprisonment in the Jade Forest. Flee screaming into the forest, the voice told her. It had to be connected.

She planted her staff on the ground and struggled to her hooves. She was tired, spent. Exhausted. Assuring the hovering Pandaren that she was fine, she opened a portal to the Shrine of Seven Stars. Kras was waiting for her there. When she appeared in the Golden Lantern and was greeted by the serenely smiling face of the innkeeper, she let herself relax.

Lena slowly limped her way up the stairs toward the suite where they were staying, her staff and hooves clacking along the grand marble and stone floors. Kras was waiting at the door, and gathered her up in his strong arms, carrying her to the bed and fussing over her injured leg. She smiled faintly up at him as he stroked her hair and kissed her forehead, and as he settled in the chair next to the bed and told her to get some rest, the whispers died down.