Divination: Ripped Sky

[Gashuk]

"Astrology is a Language. If you understand this language, The Sky Speaks to You.” - Shadowmoon Starcaller

Being an outcast had it's benefits. Solitude was easy enough to come by and none bar his mate-to-be ever came to find and bother him. Gashuk enjoyed that; the shadow cast by his hooded shape was enough to turn anyone's head away from him, he could come and go as he pleased and was rarely approached. It was lonely at times, but he had Rhonya to turn to and she was more than enough for him. Days had been spent around the Crossroads, the bustling town had come a long way since the Legion had first invaded and besieged it. If anything War did bring commerce. Partially destroyed buildings had to be rebuilt and the Crossroads held all the travellers who wanted to lend a hand throughout the Barrens. Plainswind, the Tauren who owned the Inn, must have made a fortune. Well deserved too, after all the locals had been through. The nights were spent outside of the town; Gashuk and Rhonya had found an enclave across a mountain-face to the west, the area was close enough to the town to be rarely frequented by wildlife, but far enough to away to be undisturbed should anyone feel the need to seek the pair out; something that never happened.

Peace came easily now. Gashuk's mind was at ease at long last. Even the prophecy of Akashok hadn't perturbed the Shadowmoon, although he knew Rhonya was anxious about it. "When the currents have changed course and the skies have turned blue, the heart of one close to your own will cease to beat by your own hand. It shall be then, that the debt of life shall be considered repaid in full." -  the words echoed in his head as Rhonya repeated the Patron Spirit's judgement. It was a clear portent; the Spirits were warning that Rhonya would have to kill someone close to her in reparation of what she did to bring Gashuk back. Eye for an eye. Gashuk knew that part of Shamanism particularly well, in some respects it showed their parallel to the Fel. Sacrifice bought power, no matter the source, but Gashuk also knew that the Shaman of the Clan would never see things that way. There was no use causing more distrust and anger by pressing the point either.

As a Shadowmoon, Gashuk was brought up gazing at the stars. His Clan was deeply spiritual, known as the most peaceful amongst all the Clans on Draenor and their Shamanism was deeply ingrained into their culture. They even created the festival Kosh'harg which is honoured still to this day as a time of peace and prosperity. Astrology was a key factor to their faith; they believed that they could glean the future from stellar movements and Gashuk's youth was full of recording the patterns of the stars and interpreting them. Now he had a time of peace, he enjoyed having the time to properly return to that craft.

Through the Stars, Gashuk saw an alternative to what Akashok had said. Gashuk saw all the possible alternatives. After all the Stars were not a book with ink-stained upon the pages to be read, but ever changing with every night sky that gave them birth. Gashuk knew that terms such as fate, prophecy and destiny were fluid. As a Warlock who had defied death he knew more than most that his life was in his own hands, as was Rhonya's. No fickle Spirit could change that.

It was the Stars that Gashuk looked to now. Rhonya was out with the Clan and the sky was free of the pollution of daylight; it was a perfect night to scry them, to track the constellations and divine their nature. He started by finding a suitable spot to sit and from within his robes drew a scroll used to mark the movements he was looking for. He shut his eyes and allowed himself to breath deeply, inward then outward, regulating his heartbeat as a Monk would whilst meditating and after a few moments opened his eyes with his head pointing towards the night's sky; the image was fresh, the stars burnt bright and left impressions in Gashuk's mind. It was like a tapestry woven to perfection and was absolutely breathtaking.

Gashuk quickly found the constellations he tracked; one called the Lady, or occasionally, the Lover. A cluster of stars that changes with each night but always remains in the rough figure of an hour-glass shape with a smaller cluster of stars within it; representing the heart. They had moved somewhat but remained on the right course, a smile crept to his lips as he saw that; it meant a lot to him. Hours passed as he continued to track and note the movement of the stars, and inevitably he slowly drifted to a slumber; one full of vision and fortune.

As he slept, Argus continued to shade the sky with a green-hue above him; a bad omen to most, but Gashuk had paid it no heed. He could feel the rift even now as he slept, pulsing behind him with immense energy. The nature of the rift taught Gashuk that Argus was not truly in the sky he read, but was merely an image of the planet much, much further away connected to Azeroth through a portal of such powerful magic surely only a titan would be capable of it, yet nevertheless it was understandable in theory at the very least.

Suddenly the green was replaced with red; Gashuk woke with a start and spun around, his scroll flying to the side as he re-focused his gaze on the rift containing the fel-ridden planet. It was closing. The power radiating from the rift was immeasurable, Argus' green had been completely overpowered by the deep red of a figure; a figure so titanic that Gashuk could make out details of the features of his face, and the image burned itself into his eyes. His heart knew who this was, but his head couldn't compute it. It felt so real but this had to be a vision granted by the Stars. Gashuk watched in utter terror for what seemed like hours; the figure was being pulled back, defeated but had a look of pure defiance on his face. A sword the size of a mountain, no even bigger, was grasped in his hand and he plunged with it - From Gashuk's perspective, it looked as if the sword was coming directly for him, but it missed. As it struck into the planet he felt a cataclysmic quake and as the figure was finally dragged away and the rift slammed shut on itself, the Shadowmoon Orc passed out and the sky was left as black as ink with no Argus to be seen.

The stars screamed in agony as the sky was ripped apart and no one was there to hear them.