"Forbidden love is always the strongest".
It had been over a week since he had returned. A long eventful week that shook the very foundations of the Clan. Blood-oaths had been absolved, honour had been stripped and yet amongst all of the strife; love had blossomed. Shadowmoon Valley suddenly felt like a very long time ago.
At first Gashuk had been confused. The Soulstone had rendered his Spirit incomplete and that had temporarily affected his memory. Three Orcs stood around him but he knew none of them. Each of them wary, each of them suspicious. At first all Gashuk had wanted was his Mother and Father, his inner child screaming out, but it became apparent that they were not coming. With each aching minute his brain felt assaulted by memories flooding back in, years of his life that whilst lived, felt as if they hadn't happened. Not to him at least. He became angry and lashed out at one of the Orcs; the male one. Peering at the night sky of his homeland Gashuk ripped energy from the stars, from the Nether beyond them, and knocked him clean out. It was like second nature. Yet nothing about him felt natural. His hands were aged, scarred and green. His reflection was not one that he recognised but deep down, he knew it was him. The two females had pleaded, begged with him, one in particular tried to get him to remember her, but the pain was too much. He knew everything, but at the same time, knew nothing.
All of a sudden something clicked. Gashuk started to list names. Orcs he couldn't picture the faces of, but Orcs he knew that he cared for. It felt like literal word-vomit and with every name uttered, he felt some relief. Eventually the pain started to subside and he finally recognised the Orcs in front of him. Steelheart, Windwatcher, the Son of Knulk. His Family. He felt guilty for that now. Sarguk didn't deserve to be blasted aside like a ragdoll, and quite frankly, Gashuk felt the apology he gave him wasn't really accepted. The Blackrock had kept his distance since returning to Orgimmar, likely planning his next steps as he always did. It wasn't truly his fault though; Gashuk had warned them that he may be disorientated when he came back. In truth, Gashuk hadn't really known what the consequences might have been. It was lucky to have gone as smooth as it did. Especially when nothing at all had gone smoothly since.
He hadn't expected his return to the Clan to be easy. He expected the funny looks, the poisonous remarks. After all, quite a few of the Orcs hadn't even liked him beforehand, so why would they now? Trakmar, Groshnok, Nosh'marak. None of them ever appreciated having a Warlock in their midst anyway and now he was even more of an abomination in their eyes. He had however expected them to be more forgiving towards his accomplices. Both of them were Shaman that had contributed more to the Clan's well-being than any other, but even they felt the sting of disapproval from Orcs who had once relied on them to save their lives on multiple occasions. The fact that he had created that distrust pained Gashuk, but what had been done, was done.
The trial was ruthless. Surrounded by an angry biased jury of his kin. Out of the three of them, Kogra had got off lightly with only a slap on the wrist and an order to repent to the Spirits. Gashuk himself got exactly what he had expected; a life of a Pariah. Yet Rhonya had it worse. Not only was she stripped of title and honour, but she had her blood-brother publicly humiliate her by cutting all ties and absolving their blood-bond. Kozgugore had struck her where he knew it would hurt and whilst Gashuk had every intention to boil the Wolfking's blood from within for his actions, he had refrained from doing so. What good would it have done? Since the Trial, he kept himself to himself. Kozgugore had tried to punish Rhonya for choosing Gashuk over him, but all he had done is push them closer together. The only Orc he found himself spending anytime with was his blood-sister; and after a long time of soft forget-me-nots, the pair finally started to show some affection to one another. A development of their relationship that had started long before Gashuk died, and had only grown stronger as they spoke through the power of the Soulstone.
Rhonya and Gashuk had a complicated relationship. They had known each other for years; both saved the other's life, and whilst one was a Shaman and the other a Warlock, they had more in common than any could imagine, they had a fondness for each other that couldn't be questioned and over time, stargazing long into the night until they fell asleep in each other's arms, that fondness was found to be love.
Quick kisses turned to passionate ones. Gazing at the stars transitioned into gazing into each other's eyes. Evenings asleep in each other's arms became evenings doing anything but sleeping.
The Clan wouldn't see eye-to-eye with the pair, they both knew that. There would be more arguments to come, more poisonous looks and whispered curses. Gashuk was condemned to the life of a Pariah, and some within the Clan felt obliged to remind him of that at every opportunity, yet oddly he had never felt more content and accepted in his entire life. He had Rhonya to thank for that.
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