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Description
Zelaris watched the speaker, an age wizen elder, with a keen interest. A fervour shared by each and every one present, the Khala was alive with the thoughts and feelings of them all as a thousand pairs of luminescent eyes cast their gaze towards the centre of the atrium, where Ashkall had gathered them all to hear this. A gathering of such magnitude was seldom required unless the need was of great importance, the subject rending in some way, and that accounted for the tension that laced the temperate air around them.

Perhaps it was the subtle shift in the air, then, that had drawn her attention away from that which held the minds and hearts of the others. But for reasons she might never be certain of, Zelaris let her gaze wander intuitively, casting it back over one, fabric-swathed shoulder, to the fringes of the atrium in which they all stood. There, amid the darkness that cloyed at the edges of the vast space, something she couldn’t quite place her finger on, almost as if a void had opened up in the Khala it’s self, she sensed it...watching. Waiting.

Yet this feeling was not predatory, she felt no danger and indeed that was not the source of her disturbance. What unsettled her was the familiarity she found ensconced there, when she squinted deep into the shadows.
She had felt it before, several times, actually. Once at the training glade, and even in her own personal quarters. Never had it been this profound, a silent force keeping watch over her. Those times past, she had been able to ignore it, place it at the back of her mind and put it down to illogical thoughts, but not now. This wasn’t coincidence.

Slowly, without thought she drew away from the group, began to weave her way through the crowd towards the source of this feeling. An itch, Zelaris thought to herself, it was like an incurable itch. She knew that the only way she was going to satisfy that curiosity was by seeing for herself what had prompted her distraction.

A firm, but gentle nudge in her mind came from her colleagues and family alike, questioning where she was going. Zelaris pushed back, just as gently, reassuring them in kind,

‘Stay, I will not be long.’

They would have been able to feel what she was feeling anyway, she saw no sense in hiding it. Their concern was unfounded and nothing could have attacked them here without them hearing of it long before now.

Even so, she trod with care, advancing on the place she had felt the disturbance with a slow, methodical pace. Green eyes narrowed, shimmering, she could see something now - a swirling darkness as black as the deepest chasms. Within which she could see nothing at present, the substance was too thick, almost acrid looking, to tell. And while she had never seen any such sight before in all her young years, there were those among the crowd who could feel what she was seeing, feeling with almost all of her senses, and know enough so as to fill the Khala with the answer: Nerazim.
Dark Templar, now there was a term she knew.

Zelaris’ eyes grew wide with surprise when, as if on cue, the thick whorls of darkness began to dissipate and fade, to reveal the sharply angled features and argent blue eyes of a Protoss male within. While many of the ancient elders might have greeted the revelation with disdain and perhaps even hostility, all she felt was mental acquisitiveness. It had been some time since the alliance between the Nerazim and the Khalai, but for those old enough to remember the times before and be set in their ways, saw it more as a beneficial scenario that did not extend to times of relative peace. Times were changing, however.
As more of the Nerazim was revealed, it became clear that this was an unexpected encounter on both parts. His eyes, which had been downcast until now, flew open wide as he beheld Zelaris. For the smallest of seconds, she could feel him touch her mind, seeking her name, curious, though it negated much of the coldness she had expected to feel, the chill of the void it’s self. What they shared next, she would never forget as long as she lived, maybe even longer still.

Recognition...she knew this Nerazim! And what was more, he remembered her.

His name was at the forefront of her mind instantly, flaring to life even as he was trying to retreat into the shadows.

Atargatis!?

He faltered in his retreat, pausing for just long enough that she could close the distance between them and reach out to him, grasping his wrist firmly, surely, forcing him to whirl back to face her.

You are mistaken. But Zelaris wasn’t she knew it, he knew it! For decades others had thought him dead, lost forever, or worse; imprisoned somewhere. All this time he had been alive and she...

The weight of that guilt alone could have crippled her, it felt like invisible hands had reached into her form and closed around each of her strongly beating hearts, grasping them as tightly as she held onto his arm.
She didn’t let go of him, wouldn’t now.

I am not, I know you, Atargatis, perhaps better than yourself....where have you been, what have you become?
Zelaris had not meant it to sound quite so closed minded, so rigid in it’s undertones. But the Atargatis she remembered was no emissary of the void. She could seldom remember a time when he had shown even the slightest aptitude towards wishing to learn more about their ways. So what had happened? Where had he gone to that fateful day?

When she reached out to him again, instinctively, she felt nothing but the barrier’s he had placed up around his mind, keeping it closed to her but for what he was saying. Understandable, considering, and yet it hurt her in some small way. They had been so close, he and her.

A mental sigh, a soft, gentle resignation was her reply. It was him, she knew it, she felt it...he had recognized her too, he couldn’t deny it.

Leave me be, Zelaris.

But she wouldn’t, her grip as firm as ever. He could have made her let go, of course, but even as the shadows began to lick and coil at his feet, he knew he would do anything but. Atargatis’ eyes dropped wearily, and for those moments he appeared far older than the sum of his years. Time had not been so kind to him as it had to most his age. Something he would not wish to share with anyone, much less the female before him. His mind was his own now, what he shared was for one alone, not the thoughts of many.

Coming here was a mistake, I should never have allowed this to happen.

Zelaris’ brows creased in concern, noticing how he had already begun to fade, yet something, maybe her hold on him, was forcing him to linger.

Why did you? She pushed, noting she did not like the way he would not look her in the eye.

Amusement piqued at her thoughts when he did look up though, kindling a small hope. It was foolish to hope, though.

Because I had to know.

Although she stayed silent, trying to keep an even rein on her thoughts, she couldn’t help but let the emotions bleed from her being and felt several protoss at her back inquire about her wellbeing. She shut them down immediately, doing her utmost to keep a lid on the unquenched angst that boiled beneath the surface. Atargatis would explain if he wanted to leave that badly, that or he would be forced to take her with him.

I had to know you would continue what we began.

----------------------------------

The above is a little blurb I wrote to go with this scene here. I dare say I will edit it a bajillion more times along with the picture - I can't leave well enough alone - but for now, I am very happy with this.

A good many hours in photoshop and painter 12, the line work for this was penciled by hand, then digitally inked and can also be found in my gallery

If you are interested in anything you see, or would like to commission new work, please see my pricelist on my journal, or contact me at: B3Creates@gmail.com for more info!

Description
Zelaris watched the speaker, an age wizen elder, with a keen interest. A fervour shared by each and every one present, the Khala was alive with the thoughts and feelings of them all as a thousand pairs of luminescent eyes cast their gaze towards the centre of the atrium, where Ashkall had gathered them all to hear this. A gathering of such magnitude was seldom required unless the need was of great importance, the subject rending in some way, and that accounted for the tension that laced the temperate air around them.

Perhaps it was the subtle shift in the air, then, that had drawn her attention away from that which held the minds and hearts of the others. But for reasons she might never be certain of, Zelaris let her gaze wander intuitively, casting it back over one, fabric-swathed shoulder, to the fringes of the atrium in which they all stood. There, amid the darkness that cloyed at the edges of the vast space, something she couldn’t quite place her finger on, almost as if a void had opened up in the Khala it’s self, she sensed it...watching. Waiting.

Yet this feeling was not predatory, she felt no danger and indeed that was not the source of her disturbance. What unsettled her was the familiarity she found ensconced there, when she squinted deep into the shadows.
She had felt it before, several times, actually. Once at the training glade, and even in her own personal quarters. Never had it been this profound, a silent force keeping watch over her. Those times past, she had been able to ignore it, place it at the back of her mind and put it down to illogical thoughts, but not now. This wasn’t coincidence.

Slowly, without thought she drew away from the group, began to weave her way through the crowd towards the source of this feeling. An itch, Zelaris thought to herself, it was like an incurable itch. She knew that the only way she was going to satisfy that curiosity was by seeing for herself what had prompted her distraction.

A firm, but gentle nudge in her mind came from her colleagues and family alike, questioning where she was going. Zelaris pushed back, just as gently, reassuring them in kind,

‘Stay, I will not be long.’

They would have been able to feel what she was feeling anyway, she saw no sense in hiding it. Their concern was unfounded and nothing could have attacked them here without them hearing of it long before now.

Even so, she trod with care, advancing on the place she had felt the disturbance with a slow, methodical pace. Green eyes narrowed, shimmering, she could see something now - a swirling darkness as black as the deepest chasms. Within which she could see nothing at present, the substance was too thick, almost acrid looking, to tell. And while she had never seen any such sight before in all her young years, there were those among the crowd who could feel what she was seeing, feeling with almost all of her senses, and know enough so as to fill the Khala with the answer: Nerazim.
Dark Templar, now there was a term she knew.

Zelaris’ eyes grew wide with surprise when, as if on cue, the thick whorls of darkness began to dissipate and fade, to reveal the sharply angled features and argent blue eyes of a Protoss male within. While many of the ancient elders might have greeted the revelation with disdain and perhaps even hostility, all she felt was mental acquisitiveness. It had been some time since the alliance between the Nerazim and the Khalai, but for those old enough to remember the times before and be set in their ways, saw it more as a beneficial scenario that did not extend to times of relative peace. Times were changing, however.
As more of the Nerazim was revealed, it became clear that this was an unexpected encounter on both parts. His eyes, which had been downcast until now, flew open wide as he beheld Zelaris. For the smallest of seconds, she could feel him touch her mind, seeking her name, curious, though it negated much of the coldness she had expected to feel, the chill of the void it’s self. What they shared next, she would never forget as long as she lived, maybe even longer still.

Recognition...she knew this Nerazim! And what was more, he remembered her.

His name was at the forefront of her mind instantly, flaring to life even as he was trying to retreat into the shadows.

Atargatis!?

He faltered in his retreat, pausing for just long enough that she could close the distance between them and reach out to him, grasping his wrist firmly, surely, forcing him to whirl back to face her.

You are mistaken. But Zelaris wasn’t she knew it, he knew it! For decades others had thought him dead, lost forever, or worse; imprisoned somewhere. All this time he had been alive and she...

The weight of that guilt alone could have crippled her, it felt like invisible hands had reached into her form and closed around each of her strongly beating hearts, grasping them as tightly as she held onto his arm.
She didn’t let go of him, wouldn’t now.

I am not, I know you, Atargatis, perhaps better than yourself....where have you been, what have you become?
Zelaris had not meant it to sound quite so closed minded, so rigid in it’s undertones. But the Atargatis she remembered was no emissary of the void. She could seldom remember a time when he had shown even the slightest aptitude towards wishing to learn more about their ways. So what had happened? Where had he gone to that fateful day?

When she reached out to him again, instinctively, she felt nothing but the barrier’s he had placed up around his mind, keeping it closed to her but for what he was saying. Understandable, considering, and yet it hurt her in some small way. They had been so close, he and her.

A mental sigh, a soft, gentle resignation was her reply. It was him, she knew it, she felt it...he had recognized her too, he couldn’t deny it.

Leave me be, Zelaris.

But she wouldn’t, her grip as firm as ever. He could have made her let go, of course, but even as the shadows began to lick and coil at his feet, he knew he would do anything but. Atargatis’ eyes dropped wearily, and for those moments he appeared far older than the sum of his years. Time had not been so kind to him as it had to most his age. Something he would not wish to share with anyone, much less the female before him. His mind was his own now, what he shared was for one alone, not the thoughts of many.

Coming here was a mistake, I should never have allowed this to happen.

Zelaris’ brows creased in concern, noticing how he had already begun to fade, yet something, maybe her hold on him, was forcing him to linger.

Why did you? She pushed, noting she did not like the way he would not look her in the eye.

Amusement piqued at her thoughts when he did look up though, kindling a small hope. It was foolish to hope, though.

Because I had to know.

Although she stayed silent, trying to keep an even rein on her thoughts, she couldn’t help but let the emotions bleed from her being and felt several protoss at her back inquire about her wellbeing. She shut them down immediately, doing her utmost to keep a lid on the unquenched angst that boiled beneath the surface. Atargatis would explain if he wanted to leave that badly, that or he would be forced to take her with him.

I had to know you would continue what we began.

----------------------------------

The above is a little blurb I wrote to go with this scene here. I dare say I will edit it a bajillion more times along with the picture - I can't leave well enough alone - but for now, I am very happy with this.

A good many hours in photoshop and painter 12, the line work for this was penciled by hand, then digitally inked and can also be found in my gallery

If you are interested in anything you see, or would like to commission new work, please see my pricelist on my journal, or contact me at: B3Creates@gmail.com for more info!