Fractured

Hypocrisy.

The word stuck in the mind of the deranged shaman. His fever burned horribly, his blood felt chilled, and his stomach gurgled and threatened to force his dinner up with every movement.

Hypocrisy is the worse crime one can commit. To chide someone for performing an action and then do it yourself. Worse than a crime because you get away with making people believe what they want for a time.

The blight itched, it swept across his skin like an army of ants, prickling the muscles and stinging. Another wave of nausea filled him and through sheer force of will and a prayer to the spirit of water he defied the stomach's desire to release it's contents.

Of all the times to think about the Duskfury it had to be now. Why? Why did it still stick in his mind?
Because they wronged your clan. Because they lied to you, hurt you, hurt your family, just like THEY did. A blurry memory flashed in front of him, a man with hair the color of ripe wheat glared at him and shouted unintelligibly, he struck out and Murrough felt a flash of pain across his chest. He gasped and pawed at his chest, only to find his tunic intact and the pain to be nothing more than a phantom.

They followed the ways of the old Horde, to them it made perfect sense. Could he hold it against them? Hypocrisy the voice hissed inside him. They claim to know what is best despite letting themselves fall into ruin, they use the words of your own against you, they lie, and then in turn call them liars.

"The words of your own betray you" he remembered Anaxim stating as he glared at his Warmistress. Only to call Talugisgi a two tongued snake the next time they met. You see? For all his claims of honor and the code he will do whatever it takes to enforce his will. Honorless dog! No, Anaxim had performed the deed with consent, he had done so without malicious intent. While he still attached himself to long out-dated rites and ideals he was not a bad man.

They mock us. Claim we are honorless and weak. Despite us being their family, their parents in a way. They held no love for you at all, no respect, no sign of kinship.

Leppender, she loved him. Despite mocking him for his hatred. She understood him when they spoke. She loved him... She loved THEM!

Indeed. She loves the clan that wishes nothing but pain and humiliation on those that gave them a home when they were weak. Now you see what she has wrought? Your friend's humiliation and mutilation. The feeling of being powerless that the bloody one has brought. They claim to be teaching control but look! They let that witch who sought the death of the clan run free!

Hypocrisy.

They claim to know best, yet they keep making the mistakes that are allowed to pass through the patience of the victims. They do not teach control or responsibility, they revel in the madness. Just as their predecessors did.

You are ignorant of their intentions. You let hatred blind you strike out without thinking. Are you not who your clan's shamans see as their role model? It is time to act like it. A voice droned out on the other side of his mind.

Are you saying that they are right? To let the child be cursed? To punish us for trying to keep her out of harms way? To mock our honor because they take their power from a source they cannot possibly control?

No, I am saying that you should not assume because you do not truly know how they think. The voice responded simply.

You are a fool. You allow them to walk away free and hurt you so? You are no better than the beaten whelp twenty years ago! The hissing voice shrieked at him in rage.

His voice was drowned out by another rippling wave of nausea. The spirit of water filled him with sadness, it did not help to remove the plague, it had only spread it to more of him. His toes and fingers felt like ice and his stomach churned even more violently.

Did you not call them family once? A third voice, a younger voice inquired, then fell silent as if it was afraid of being punished for speaking. No tale is black and white, what seems evil to one is good to another. What seems just to one is unjust to many. You are biased, you have only spoke to two people. One is as confused as you are, the other is absorbed into the dark you perceive. Ask the leaders. Understand before you make your judgement.

You are a fool, do not be burdened with thoughts of hatred and revenge. The second voice grumbled.
You are a fool, slay them all! The first voice hissed.
You are a fool, for listening to either of them. The third voice whispered.

A burning pain surged through his veins. Reality flashed into his open eyes, leaving him dazed. The nausea slowly faded and he looked down at the thick digits of the blue hand on his chest. Golden light seeped through it into him. He felt the blight wail in misery as the cleansing light removed it from existence. He felt his body come into control and his sense sharpened.

"Ola der Murr. Lat okee?"

He looked up at the sharp features of Lukou'loa "I don't know..." he said through a clenched throat.