Testing the Waters

Sea water sprayed into the air as the ship cut through the choppy waters, leaving a fine mist hanging in the sunlight. The breeze was warm, but not uncomfortably so and the voyage would have been rather pleasant if not for the dangerous part of the sea in which the ship sailed.

On its deck, sailors peered nervously into the water around them, keeping a sharp lookout for danger as the vessel prowled through the waters of Vash'jir. The ship was destined for the island of Tol Barad where it would deliver much needed supplies to the Alliance encampment there, but it had been forced to take a detour to meet up with part of the Alliance fleet fighting for control of the watery region in order to unload several crates of weapons.

With the delivery complete, the sailors were hoping to make a quick run out of the dangerous waters and make landfall on Tol Barad by the end of the day. Hours had already passed with no mishap, and all aboard the vessel were hopeful that the rest of the trip would continue in the same fashion. Unfortunately, fate had other plans.

It started on the wind, a shimmering sound that was barely perceptible at first and then rose slowly above the creak of the wooden ship and flapping of the sails. Sailors on the deck looked at one another in confusion as the sound grew into a haunting melody that instantly drew the listener in. The song rose higher, wrapping around the sailors and floating through the wind, the enchanting beauty of the words causing even the most stouthearted to pause and tilt their head to listen.

Beside the ship, the water stirred and bubbled until slowly a figure rose from it, floating gently above the waves. She was an elf of exceptional beauty, her deep green hair dripping seawater and her mouth opened in song. She floated gently towards the ship, her bare feet touching down lightly on the deck as she sang on. The sailors looked at her in awe, utterly entranced with the beauty of the elf and the song she sang, the Siren's voice capturing their hearts and minds. They shuffled away from their tasks and the ship began to drift without guidance as her crew became enthralled by the beautiful song.

The elf's beautiful face broke into a smile as she watched the humans gaze at her in adoration, her song continuing to play over them. Ancient words of power hung around her, magic flowing outwards. The humans were helpless against it, and she would soon have the entire ship at her mercy.

Even as she thought this, a second voice joined hers in the song. The lyrics, known only to the most ancient of Highborne elves, were sung perfectly and in perfect harmony with the song she sang, the two female voices intertwined in a beautiful melody. The Siren frowned, slowly letting her voice die away as the second singer continued on, finishing the song, missing not a single note or word. From behind the ship's mainmast another elf stepped forward, her eyes closed as she completed the melody.

The Siren's eyes narrowed in anger and she glared at the newcomer, who had obviously been in the cabins below deck. For her part, Malandrae's eyes opened to take in the other elf, and then opened further in utter shock.

"Innesta Starsinger..." Malandrae whispered.

The other elf gasped and studied Malandrae for a moment before a cruel smile took over her face, "Malandrae Moonwhisper. I cannot believe you are actually here, alive in my presence. The Queen's luck favors me this day."

"W-what are you d-doing here Innesta? Why are you enthralling these sailors?" Malandrae said quietly.

Innesta laughed, her eyes roaming over the other with amusement. "Because they trespass on the Queen's territory Malandrae. They will be killed or used as slaves, as are all who violate her territory. Or have you forgotten who it is you serve?"

Malandrae shook her head in denial, "N-no. The Queen is gone. The empire is gone. You c-can't just...they're innocent men and women who have nothing to do with Her Court. You c-can't do this to them."

Innesta laughed again, her tone mocking, "Ah, so it has been true all this time. I always knew you were a traitor but it's good to hear it from your own lips. To think you denied the High Arcanist AND turned your back on your own House and family. You do know what She does to traitors, don't you? To filthy cowards who turn their back on Her will?"

Malandrae wilted under the stare of the other, her eyes downcast as she avoided looking at the elf on the ship's deck. She responded in a quiet voice, "I'm NOT a traitor. It was She who betrayed us. And I won't let you hurt these sailors."

Magic crackled in the air around Innesta as she grinned wickedly. "Oh really? Do you know what kind of reward I will receive if I drag you...or your corpse...back with me? I don't really think there is much you can do to stop me, Second Advisor. You were always inferior in every way. Time to show you that once and for all."

Malandrae barely had time to shout the words to a shielding spell before arcane bolts slammed into it. She stumbled backwards as magic flared and missiles were hurled at her by the other elf. She brought her hands up, and the missiles arced around her, slamming into the mast behind her and shattering the wood with a concussive blast that sent her staggering. She could see her shielding weakening as she stumbled, and she desperately hurled a bolt of arcane magic at Innesta. The ship listed for a moment as the broken mast plunged into the water, rigging and ropes snapping and landing all over the deck.

"Do you REALLY think you've got even half a chance?" Innesta gloated as she casually batted the magic out of the air. "You were always a terrible student, and never a match for me. Just surrender Malandrae and I'll see to it that you don't get killed before you have a chance to see your family, so they can spit their curses on you for the disgrace you brought to their House!"

Malandrae's eyes widened and she fell back against the splintered stump, unable to say anything as Innesta hurled more spelled into her shielding. The last missile struck a ward and Malandrae's defenses failed with a brilliant flare of purple and blue light. Innesta's laughter rang out over the sound of groaning timber as the ship righted itself.

"You didn't know? Of course your family is alive. The Queen protects her LOYAL followers and their Houses, didn't you know that little fool?" Innesta laughed. "Oh how your mother wept when she heard of your treachery. Her stupid little daughter, betraying the Queen herself. House Moonwhisper was lucky that every member was not put to death thanks to your actions. Your father publicly disowned you though after the disaster, and the Queen spared them. You are nothing but an idiot who could not even do the few tasks that her House required of her. It's a wonder the High Arcanist even touched you. He probably felt dirty afterwards, to have such stupidity near him."

Malandrae slumped against the wood behind her, her mouth working wordlessly and tears streaming down her face. There was no answer to the utter bile that Innesta was hurling at her, because in the end the elf was right; Malandrae had done exactly that, she'd betrayed her people and everything her House stood for when she chose to flee rather than join them in their continued depravity and magic abuse. There was no defense against the truth, but seeing Innesta and hearing the words only made Malandrae wish she had done it so much sooner, when she had a chance to have made a difference.

Innesta smiled, magic gathering in her hands as she looked at her defeated foe. "Poor little Malandrae. You have nothing to say, do you traitor? Don't worry, I'll make this quick, and your family will reward me for removing the stain you've placed on their name. I almost feel I should cast a spell so they can watch your final moments."

Open a spell. To communicate...

Mellery SunCog's voice drifted through Malandrae's mind, "Mine's got a case hard enough to crack a skull. It would make a good projectile."

Forgive me Miss Silveria, and thank you Miss Mellery.

Malandrae's hand shot down to her belt and back up. Her body arced forward as she hurled the object she had grabbed as hard as she could. A glimmering flash of pink flew through the air as Malandrae's buzzbox hurtled forward and connected squarely with Innesta's nose, shattering it and throwing the elf to the deck.

Innesta blinked back tears as a shadow fell over her, Malandrae's tear stained face looking down on her. She gasped, spitting out a broken tooth, "W-what is wrong with you. You HIT me. W-what have these barbarians been teaching you."

Malandrae scowled as she bent down, her face inches from the other elf's, "How to do the right thing."

Her hand snatched a necklace from around Innesta's throat and she held it above her head. Magical energy arced through her palm, little bits of lightning visible as the enchanted necklace was taken. A beautiful song floated across the wind again before it faded. When the song ended Malandrae threw the necklace into the air and hurled a magic missile after it, destroying it utterly.

Innesta's form shimmered, and the illusion she had placed upon herself shattered. Instead of a wounded but beautiful elf lying on the deck, the scaly form of a Naga was now seen. The sailors around the ship who had stood entranced blinked and began shaking their heads, seeing what they had been enthralled with clearly for the first time. Angry shouts began to rise up, and crossbows and spears were picked up as they shook themselves free of the remaining magic.

Innesta sprang upwards, hissing at those closest to her. "Thissss is not over Malandrae. I won't forget your treachery. Your Housssse will know of it soon enough. You and everything you love will die fool." She flipped herself backwards, landing in the water and quickly disappearing beneath the waves.

Malandrae watched the spot where the other had sunk as the water cleared, whispering softly, "It already has..."

She slowly turned and looked behind her to see the the sailors taring at her in awe. They knew she had broken the Siren's spell on them. Slowly they moved towards her, several of them offering her their thanks before moving off to begin clearing the damaged mast.

As they worked to repair the ship, their eyes kept going back to the elf who now stood at the bow of the ship, looking into the water. On the air, the song she had sung hung again over them, without the magic this time but still as beautiful as it had been before, the sorrow in her tone haunting them for the rest of the day.

When they arrived at Tol Barad, they found Malandrae's cabin empty. She had used a portal to take herself somewhere far away where she could be alone for a time. She wasn't yet ready to face what lay beneath Vash'jir, not until she could come to terms with the way Innesta's words had made her feel.

Simple Minded Things

It had all gone downhill rather quickly, at least to Malandrae's limited memory of the events. It started in the morning, when she had met with a group of druids on their way further down the slopes of Hyjal. The two druids had been assigned to assist her as they found some rogue fire elementals that were trying to reburn some of the area that had regrown on the slopes, and together they had tracked the creatures in the wilderness.

Around mid-day, they encountered a band of three other druids, heading back up the slope and the entire group had decided to make camp for lunch. As the three druids passed around their water skins, they told stories of the Twilight's Hammer further down the mountain, and how their power was growing to an unstoppable force. Malandrae found the talk odd, and soon she felt herself tilting over, a drowsy, sleepy feeling overcoming her.

She only became alarmed when she found herself on the ground, lying beside the two other elves that had accompanied her. She realized she couldn't move her limbs, even as one of the druids they'd met grinned down at her, slipping a sack over her head and blocking her sight.

Her last conscious moment was the sound of the druids chattering away about how easy it had been to slip them the herbs, and how useful they would be to the cult.

*****************************

Malandrae awoke in a cage, in the center of a busy Twilight's Hammer camp. The two druids that had been with her shared the cramped space, and all had their hands bound in front of them, with ropes going to their feet. As she blinked the last of the herb-induced sleep from her eyes, she shared a terrified look with the other two elves.

"W-what...?" She began, only to be interrupted as two Twilight's Hammer guards forced their way into the cage. They grabbed one of the two druids and dragged him out, pulling him along through the dirt towards a nearby tent. As Malandrae and the druidess within the cage looked on, agonized screams came from the interior of the foreboding fabric shelter.

It went on for some time, with the sounds coming and going as whatever was happening within the tent continued. Finally, after an hour or so, the druid emerged, his eyes wide with madness. He was unbound, and the guards ordered him off to begin arranging supplies for the camp. He went without question, clearly having been indoctrinated somehow while he was in the tent.

Malandrae's eyes met those of the druidess in the cage even as the two guards headed back towards them. They banged the cage door open and grabbed the druidess. She begged Malandrae to help her with her gaze, but there was little that the Highborne could do with her hands bound together so tightly. She was soon hauled off out of sight, plunging into the darkness of the tent and out of Malandrae's sight. The sounds resumed from within, and the Highborne shuddered as she contemplated what the cultists were doing to the other elf.

She didn't have long to wait; the druidess took even less time to break than the druid had, and soon she was shuffling out of the tent, happily following the commands of her new masters without question. The guards turned, trudging back towards the cage, reaching in to pull Malandrae out.

She was dragged towards the deep purple tent, knowing that something awful was going to happen once she got in it. The flaps were pushed aside and she was roughly ushered in and placed on a wooden stool that sat before a running machine. The device had a number of floating gears with eye-searing symbols etched on them, and pulsed with a dark light. As soon as she made eye contact with it, the device reached out to her, contacting her mind.

She realized in a moment that it was a sentient device, and that was the last thought she had as it plunged deep into her mind with its magic.

*************************************

The device, which called itself Xxsss, had served the Master for a very very long time. It had been used countless times to crush the will of those brought before it, creating servitors for the Twilight's Hammer in preparation for the glorious day when the world would be unmade. It knew its business well, and immediately began the process of assaulting the elf's mind.

The first thing it noticed was that her thoughts were filled with a rather annoying, and repeating, Highborne song that she seemed not to be able to remember all the lyrics to. It looped over and over again in her train of thought, and it took some moments for Xxsss to even get her full attention. It was time to break her, and tempt her into the path of the cult.

"Relax, join with me, and you can have anything in the world that you desire," Xxsss purred at Malandrae, offering her images of gold, precious gems, expensive fabrics and spices. It paused, reading the surface of her thoughts as the images swirled through her.

In her mind, Malandrae was picturing the things she already owned. Endless racks of shoes in her closets, fancy dresses strewn all over her room, piles of imitation jewelry which looked nice but was really quite worthless, and two nightstands full of cosmetics that she had acquired already since she had returned to Azeroth. There was absolutely no interest in obtaining wealth for the sake of wealth in her mind, and Xxsss nearly hissed in frustration as it was shown endless images of the things she owned and liked but which were fairly common and valueless items. Clearly they meant much to her though because they had been given as gifts by her new friends or purchased with money she'd earned; a novel concept to her.

"I can see that you will be a difficult case," Xxsss murmured. "If you do not want material possessions, then perhaps power will be more to your liking."

Her mind was immediately bombarded with images of power, of magic so incredible that she could do anything with it. She saw herself flying, she saw herself defeating entire armies and claiming their lands in the name of the Master. Nothing could stand before her if she would submit and claim the power that Xxsss offered her.

The device peered into her thoughts, it's soft voice whispering to her, "And what would you do, if you could have all of this power little elf?" It paused, watching as her mind formed thoughts of what she would do with endless power, ideas racing past her until her entire consciousness clamored for the single thing she would do with such power.

She would heal Chelody Smallwing's eye and face.

Xxsss actually did hiss this time, it's displeasure at the elf growing by the moment. It could not possibly tempt her with power if her only plan for the use of such endless might would be to selflessly heal someone else with it! It gathered it's energy around itself, prepared to assault her mind directly.

"If you will not take possessions or power, than perhaps you need to learn true fear!" Xxsss spoke to her. It began to press its will in all around her, bombarding her mind with images of the Cult as it overpowered her friends and allies. She saw the people she had recently met and befriended assaulted by fire elementals, burning them alive as they stood powerless again the tide of destruction. She saw cities burning and continents covered in burning flames.

Xxsss snarled at her, "Submit, and your friends will be allowed to join with us and will not suffer this fate." It paused, waiting for an answer from her thoughts, still pressing her with the images. The response was not what it expected.

"At least they will die cleanly," Malandrae's voice floated outward.

"What was that..?" Xxsss pressed. It peered into her mind, puzzled. How could she dismiss such images of violence and death so easily? As it searched her memories and thoughts, it came upon a portion of her mind that was sealed off, even from herself. The answer had come from there, from within the black, dead part of her mind that she dared not look into. Xxsss pressed it's energy against it, trying to see what lay beneath it that would allow her to shrug off the destruction of the Twilight's Hammer. Malandrae's mind resisted, and Xxsss pressed even harder, trying to force it's way in.

A moment later it realized that it had made a fatal mistake as Malandrae's subconscious reflexively defended her mind from having to experience again whatever was within that dark chunk of her mind. Arcane energy flared in her brain as a part of her mind that she didn't control called upon her magic to shut out whatever was trying to tamper with that mental block.

Light flared, and Xxsss felt the full force of a Highborne Sorceress as her magic lashed out blindly all around her.

**************************

Malandrae blinked and shook her head, opening her eyes. She felt dizzy and she smelled smoke. As her vision cleared, she saw the device that she had been placed in front of. It hissed and sparked and small fires flickered from it. In the air around her, a song was playing over and over again. It made Malandrae shiver as she realized the song was being sung in her own voice, and that it was coming from the machine. It was a simple Highborne melody, one she had been thinking of earlier.

"So THAT's what the words were!" she said after listening for a moment. She shrugged her shoulders and leaned forward, pressing her bound hands to the flames on the machines. The fire chewed through the ropes around her wrists and she was soon free, rubbing the limbs to restore circulation.

Rising, Malandrae slipped from the tent, and then paused in shock. All around the camp's perimeter, the previously enslaved men and women that the cult had captured were lying on the ground, shaking and holding their heads as the power of the device that had controlled them failed. Even as the guards in the camp tried to bring things under control, several fights broke out.

The two guards near the tent shouted and began running towards Malandrae as she emerged. In a panic, she reached to her belt, only to realize she had been disarmed and that her things were in a box beside the nearby cage. She didn't have her buzzbox to call for help! Fortunately, she kept a backup on her at all times, and reached up to remove one of her earrings. The moonstone on it glowed brightly as it powered up with magic, allowing Malandrae to speak into it like a buzzbox.

"Hello?! Can anyone hear me?! I need help! I'm at a..." Malandrae yelled frantically. Unfortunately one of the guards reached her before she could continue, backhanding her and knocking her down.

The moonstone sailed through the air, landing near the tent that contained Xxsss, and the second guard walked up to it. He smirked and brought his boot down on the stone hard, shattering it.

For a brief moment in time, Malandrae's gaze locked with the eyes of the guard who had crushed the moonstone. The air became thick with arcane energies as the shattered magical device catastrophically failed from the pressure on it.  Power arced in the air and Malandrae threw herself on the ground, knowing what was coming next.

The moonstone exploded.

The guards, the tent, Xxsss, and ten feet of soil in a ten foot radius were instantly vaporized in a brilliant flare of light that was almost blinding to those not even looking at it. Everyone in the camp was hurled to the ground, and many took a few moments before they got back to their feet. Cultists and freed prisoners alike stared at the center of the camp, gaping at the sight.

There, where the tent and evil device had been, was a smoking crater with a rather perturbed looking Highborne standing in the middle of it, her hair in disarray and soot covering her clothing. On the wind, the sound of her wailing something about her 'shoes being ruined' was carried to the furthest corners of the camp.

The cultists took one look at the devastation and the now angry and free slaves and decided that it would be wise to withdraw. They ran for it, followed quickly by an angry mob made up of people from every race on Azeroth. Within moments, a fully functioning Twilight's Hammer camp was left barren and ruined, with only Malandrae left in it, picking her things out of a scorched box on the ground. She smiled as she found her pink buzzbox in the pile, holding it up triumphantly.

Sometimes it was the simple things in life that made your day good after all.

What I'm Made Of

The glass tumbled slowly through the air, twirling as it fell, the dying daylight reflecting from it in flashes as its angle changed. Malandrae's eyes watched it's almost surreal fall, her gaze locked on it as if in a trance. Around her, screams erupted and men burst into action as the Argent Crusade's camp was assaulted by rogue scourge forces deep in the heart of the region known as Zul'drak.

The wine glass had slipped from the hand of one of the crusaders who had been celebrating with his companions. With the scourge mostly defeated, there was a laxity to the camp's perimeter that had resulted in the surprise attack. All of this was lost on the Highborne though as the tumbling glass shattered against the ancient stones upon which the camp had been set. The destruction of the glass sent her mind into it's own shattered nightmares.

******************************************

The glass slipped from her hand, tumbling in the glowing light of the magical orbs that lit the room. The bottle of wine she'd been carrying followed quickly after it as she stared in shock at what stood before her. Behind her, framed in the doorway was the devastation of Zin'Azshari, something she could not bear to look upon. She'd continued to serve her master faithfully, using her service as an excuse and distraction from what her Queen had allowed to happen. Using the daily routine to block out the screams that now echoed through the city as the Queen's plans fell to ruin.

Her master, her instructor and occasionally her lover stood before her, and yet he was not what he had once been. His noble body was once the image of Highborne perfection, and despite his glaring arrogance and presumption that he owned her, Malandrae had always found him attractive. But no more. He had allowed himself to become something unspeakable in exchange for power, his handsome features twisted into the foulness of a satyr.

The wine glass shattered on the floor, breaking the moment as he reached out a hand towards her, inviting her to join him in his glorious destiny. Her mouth worked, but no words came out as her eyes widened in horror. He expected her to submit to him, but she'd seen enough.

She fled.

*****************************************

There was nowhere to go. The camp was surrounded by the scourge, giests leaping at the mixture of races in their bright white tabards with the familiar sunburst design across the front. Men, elves, and orcs cried out as they engaged the vicious creatures in battle, many falling in the first moments as the surprise attack created chaos.

In the center of the swirling battle, Malandrae stood trembling, desperately trying to keep the broken pieces of her mind together as she looked around her in shock. Fear churned in her gut like acid, eating away at her even as she tried to surpress the memories that threatened to cast her into an even darker place.

"N-not now...oh heavens please not n-now..." she moaned. Behind her, a woman screamed as a ghoul tore into her with it's claws. Malandrae blinked, holding her hands to her head and trying to keep herself under control.

*****************************

Elves screamed in the distance as demons carved them up inch by inch while they were still living. The pitiful cries for mercy would never be heeded by the minions of the legion. Even those who had died would rise again in some places, as they had done in Suramar. She'd seen it in her scrying orb, she'd forced herself to watch, knowing that it was something she had to witness to understand what her Queen had done.

All of these thoughts flashed through her mind as she fled, desperately seeking her friends, hoping there was a way to escape the city even as the ground rumbled with the first cataclysmic quakes that came from the spell failure at the Well of Eternity. She could see it in the distance, the dull green light flowing from it dimmer now as the magic faded and it began to unravel, threatening to take the city and much more with it. She looked away, not wanting to watch the end of everything.

******************************

Malandrae grit her teeth and visibly shook. "No! I won't let it control me!"

With an extreme effort of will she managed to force herself to move, her eyes turning and searching. A piercing scream rose up over the general sounds of battle and her eyes focused on a group of civilians that had become trapped on one end of the camp's perimeter. They had come to resupply the Argent Crusade soldiers and amongst the small group of smiths and merchants were children.

Malandrae did not hesitate. She began to dash towards the edge of the camp as the unarmed adults with the children fought giests with their bare hands, falling one by one. Halfway to her objective a body collided with her; an Argent Crusader thrown to the ground by his ghoulish foe. Malandrae stumbled and fell hard on the smooth stone of the ancient troll temple.

*******************************

The ground shook and she stumbled, falling to the floor of the smooth marble courtyard. Ahead of her, Eldre'nor turned and grabbed her hand, helping her to her feet. Just ahead Tyavel shouted, waving for the two to hurry as angry shouts erupted from the door where she had come from. They were after her; the Master would never stop until she gave herself body and soul to his plans. She knew it. She knew that if she turned to face him, that if she paused for an instant to help anyone but herself, she would fall and die.

She knew that it made her a coward. And maybe she was.

********************************

Malandrae's head shot up and her fingers splayed out on the stone below her as she forcibly pushed herself from the stone. A look of grim determination came over her face as she lurched back into motion. Her eyes locked on the conflict at the perimeter of the camp, her will not allowing her to turn her gaze from the doomed people fighting the undead there.

Terror pumped through her body like a fine wine, mixing with her blood and making her quake as she sprinted the last few feet towards the men. Visions flitted through her mind, images from the past mixing with what was right in front of her, making it hard to separate reality from hallucination. Fear enticed her to turn away, to flee, to curl up into a ball and hide until it was over.

She pressed on.

The last of the adults fell and one of the giests lept towards the three children huddled in the center of the camp. A brilliant bolt of arcane magic slashed the creature from the air before it reached them, shattering it and throwing it away.

The other giests turned and snarled, leaping towards Malandrae as they recognized the threat. Her hands came up, her unseeing eyes not needing to aim as instinct sent multiple missiles of arcane magic into the beasts as they flew towards her. Four fell in ruin between her and the children, one slammed into her, knocking her down and pinning her to the stone. It snarled through the rotted hood over it's face, claws extended towards the elf beneath it.

Malandrae saw none of it. The creature meant nothing to her compared to what she saw in her mind. Her blank gaze met the unseeing eye beneath the hood as magic erupted from her body, the arcane explosion throwing the creature off her and into ruin. She forced herself back to her feet, stumbling towards the children and standing protectively before them. Her limbs quivered as her mind was wracked with disturbing images and she found herself unable to stop the flow of them. Tears streamed down her face.

But still she stood over the children, her magic in her hands.

*******************************

Hours later the camp was silent. The Argent Crusaders had managed to push back the roving band of scourge and found the necromancer that had been leading them. With his death, the will had gone out of the creatures and they had disbanded, most of them disappearing into the trollish ruins around them.

Dozens had fallen in the attack, and the Crusaders carefully went through the camp, looking for survivors and wounded.

At the far perimeter of the camp several of them paused, looking at the scene before them in shock. Lying on the ground admist a cluster of destroyed tents was a night elf. Three children stood protectively over where she lay, gently shaking her and trying to wake her up. Her eyes stared off into the distance, seeing nothing. They could tell she lived though by the rising and falling of her chest.

Around her lay the remains of over two dozen giests and ghouls, all burned to ash with magic.

Carefully they gathered her up and lead the children to a safe part of the camp. Malandrae was placed with the other wounded, and didn't move or speak for a full day. After a time, her gaze became focused again, and she slowly came out of whatever it was she had been lost in. The Crusaders didn't ask what had happened; she had saved the children and that was all that really mattered in the end. Whatever demons she had faced in her mind had not stopped her from doing what had to be done.

A day later Malandrae left the camp. She never spoke of what she had seen or done to anyone. It was enough for her to know that she hadn't fled this time, despite the cost.

Night of the Dead

She should have been studying or completing her research paper, however as was her nature, Malandrae had gotten distracted, and her distraction had turned into an adventure of it's own. It had all started when she overheard some of the citizens in Stormwind discussing the Day of the Dead; a two day celebration of honoring the dead and the lost loved ones of the past. Apparently the custom had spread far and wide, and many were taking these two days in solemn remembrance of the past.

The idea had immediately began to stir Malandrae's thoughts about her own loved ones, and although her thoughts tended to be dark, she decided to do something positive with the concept and use the holiday as a time of healing. She immediately headed to Darnassus to pick up supplies for her venture. It had been a trial, but she'd managed to obtain everything she needed from the Temple of the Moon, despite the dirty looks and outright hostility that she'd received while there. She had shrugged off the hostility, knowing that her plan was a good one and that the Goddess would be pleased.

And so she found herself standing outside, the pale moonlight shining down on her as her boots crunched on the frozen snow. With each step she pressed deeper into the silent ruins of the Moonrest Gardens, nothing but the mournful wind to accompany her trek, at least to the visible eye. With her magical senses though, Malandrae knew that she was not really alone, and that the serene sight of the moon's light glimmering on the untouched snow had a hidden danger within it. All around her she could feel the restless spirits of the ruins pressing in, seeking out the source of intrusion in the place where they met their fate.

Malandrae smiled to herself, pushing on towards a tall, half-ruined marble structure up ahead. It had once been a small shrine set in the center of Moonrest; a place of peace and serenity in this portion of the settlement. It had been nestled amongst the most beautiful gardens that the night elves had ever created and the beauty of this place was renowned in Malandrae's time. It was here where she would perform her own little celebration for the Day of the Dead.

Malandrae had no loved ones to mourn. She was separated from them for countless thousands of years, and yet to her it had been only four or five weeks since their parting. She knew in her mind that they were gone, although she questioned whether or not they were actually dead. It was likely that they lived on, serving their Queen in the most hideous of forms as Naga, or perhaps living on eternally, cursed with the fel powers that they had embraced. All of her friends, her family, her lovers and those she worked with, all of them had taken these paths. None remained now to mourn, and she couldn't find it in her heart to face it anyway. She had come for another purpose.

Reaching her destination, she knelt down in the snow, taking her pack off and opening it. Slowly she took out a small golden stand, placing a glowing moonstone upon it. Before the stand she placed a bowl, and with a deft motion she took out a vial of softly glowing water, pouring it into the vessel. It was water from a moonwell, placed before a moonstone within a shrine that had once been dedicated to the Goddess. The pale light flowed out, bathing everything around it in a serene, soft glow. Malandrae's smile widened and she closed her eyes, feeling the soft radiance on her skin.

She could feel them behind her, besides her and all around. The restless dead, the Highborne who had fallen when half of Moonrest plunged into the ocean and the other half was shattered. They had suffered, had been drown and crushed, had starved to death as the world around them became impassable and they were separated from the other two continents, trapped forever in Northrend. They suffered still, their spirits unable to leave this place, unable to find peace with the disturbance of the Scourge all around and intruders within their ancient halls.

Slowly Malandrae rose and turned to face them. She could see them now, their pale forms shimmering in the light of the shrine she had made. Men, women, children; all had suffered and died, their spirits unable to move on. A scant few seemed to find the light of the shrine pleasing, their twisted faces seeming to relax slightly, but the rest stared at Malandrae with malice, as if she had actually done worse than simply intrude on their ruins.

Malandrae sighed, half reaching towards them as several drew closer, "It's alright. You can feel Her presence again. You don't need to suffer any longer. Tonight I honor the dead, as the other races mourn their lost ones. Come forward my brothers and sisters, and feel peace for a short time."

Several of the specters drifted towards Malandrae, their ghostly hands reaching for her. One brushed it's essence through her hair, stirring her cyan locks. She closed her eyes and sighed, "I am one of you. I know what you suffered."

The undead creature lashed out, striking Malandrae across the face. The blow stung, hurling her backwards into the snow. She lay there for a moment, blinking up as more of the dead spirits crowded forward, seeming almost to hesitate as they passed through the light of the shrine. Malandrae rubbed her cheek, soothing feeling back into her face where she had been hit.

"B-but I don't understand,  I'm one of you. I simply survived. Is that why you hate me?" she murmured.

The specters ignored her for a moment, turning and thrashing at the shrine she'd built. The moonstone shattered under their blows, the water from the moonwell splashing into the snow and freezing as they overturned the glass bowl and shattered it against a nearby marble pillar.

Malandrae nodded slowly as she watched them, pushing herself up out of the snow and facing them. "I understand now. You think She abandoned you. You think that there is no where to go now, and that is why you linger on in hatred here. You are wrong though, She never abandoned us, WE abandoned Her. WE turned our faces from Her when we put our Queen in Her place. WE are at fault. Maybe...maybe she sent me here to show you, to release you."

A cold hiss rose up around the Highborne Sorceress as the words left her mouth. The spirits writhed in the air around her, their hatred and anger howling into the night. Malandrae sighed, a tear on her face even as the creatures lunged at her. "I'm so sorry, but I will not let you suffer longer. I release you."

Brilliant light filled the small ruined temple as Highborne magic flared in that space for the first time in over ten thousand years. Unearthly shrieks and howls trailed off through the night as Malandrae's arcane magic slashed spirits from the air before her, laying them to rest finally and allowing their tortured forms to disperse forever more. After she had cleared the space around her she paused, her eyes glowing silver-white with the arcane magic she held in her hands.

The eyes of the dead met her gaze, and she saw only sorrow, hatred and anger within them. There was no redemption, no peaceful release of the spirits of her people who had been trapped here. There was only malice, and the magic in her hands needed to give them peace at last.

Malandrae strode forward, the power of her people in her hands and her Goddess within her, guiding her. As her quest took her from the building, her voice rose in song, an ancient dirge for the dead flowing mournfully over the ruined buildings. It mixed with the howling of the wind, carried far from where she did her work, her own personal ceremony for the Day of the Dead. A ceremony she would repeat each year for the rest of her life, until ever one of her restless people were laid to rest and given peace at last.

**********************************

In the nearby ruins of Stardust, several night elf sentinels shivered and peered out into the night. A storm was coming, promising to drop more snow on the region. It was not the temperature drop that made the elves shiver though. Far from where they stood in the distant Moonrest gardens, unnatural lights flickered and flashed as magic flowed through the ruins.

On the winds their keen hearing could easily pick up the sound of a mournful song flowing over the ruins, the meaning of the words lost to time but filling their hearts with sorrow none-the-less. They exchanged glances and silently agreed not to investigate. It would not be right anyway, the spirits of Moonrest were finally being mourned after all this time by someone, and perhaps they would rest more easily in the years to come.

A Spooky Lesson- A Letter to Silveria

*A letter is written in Malandrae's messy script, sealed and delivered to Silveria Silverleaf*

Dear Miss Silveria,
I hope this letter finds you well! I have given much thought to the 'conversation' that we had at the party last evening. Please forgive my sudden departure and know that it was not your words or our 'debate' that caused me to feel ill. After recovering, I came to find my thoughts drifting back to lessons I've learned before, and wanted to share a few things with you.

I'd like to relate a short fable to you, something handed down to me as a child. You could say that this is a piece of your own heritage in a way, for it is a story passed on amongst our people for many generations. I think you will see the point of it after I write it down, so please bear with me. It is entitled, The Sorceress of Eldareth.

Long ago, in noble Eldareth, there lived a Sorceress fair and powerful. Her tower rose above the others, her spells known far and wide for their might. Many envied her, looked up to her, and respected her. Only the Queen herself rivaled her in power, and it seemed as if all the world was at her fingertips, at her beck and call.

Despite all of this, the Sorceress knew that she could have more power, more even than the Queen if she could but gather as much magic as possible to herself. To that end, she reached out far and wide, looking for power dangerous and deadly. Her search took her to an abandoned tower, sitting alone in the hills far from her home. It was rumored that this tower contained the remains of a powerful enchantress, one who possessed a necklace that would grant power beyond any the living now controlled.

Excited, the Sorceress broke open the ancient seals upon the tower, and found within it many empty halls, filled with the dust of ages. In the lowest rooms she finally came upon a crypt, sealed away and revealed only with magic. As the tales told, she found the body of the enchantress, preserved as if she had simply laid down to sleep, the necklace around her neck. Quickly the Sorceress grasped it, pulling it from the long dead enchantress, watching as her body turned to dust in a second.

Triumphant, she returned to Eldareth, and the necklace granted her great power. Seas moved at her command, mountains flattened and crops flourished or withered at her whim. And yet, the Sorceress found her newfound joy in the power fading. Each morning she would look at herself in her mirror, and her reflection would stare at her, accusingly. The power she had taken was not hers, was not earned but rather stolen her own reflected eyes would accuse. She would dismiss her inner voice, despite the tingling warning it brought. Why would she heed it, when she was the most powerful magic user in all the world? She had made herself more powerful than the Queen, more powerful than Elune.

Still the eyes stared, haunting her now in her dreams, when she closed her eyes she would see the reflection, the image changing from her own appearance to the enchantress whom she had stolen the necklace from. What reward did the power bring her, except a lonely untended tomb?

As her use of the necklace grew, her ability to use her other spells dwindled, and she found no joy in her work any longer. Never again did she need to research a spell, or learn a new art. The necklace provided all, and everything became a dull gray drudgery as the thrill and joy of discovery was taken from life. Years passed, and she was spoken of far and wide, but it meant little. Each day she would rest her head on her pillow, and each morning it became harder to awaken, to face the dull nothingness of a power unearned, of magic stolen selfishly.

Finally, one day, she found herself laying down in her bed, her will to continue the endless monotony of her life fading. Her joy in everything gone forever. As she closed her eyes, she knew then that it would be for the last time, for what was the point in waking?

But she did wake. Her eyes opened on blackness, and she used the feeble remains of her magic to cast a dim light. It revealed only gray stone over her head and all around her, rather than her bedroom. Try as she might, she could not move the stone, and her magic had decayed to uselessness in the years of her reliance on the necklace. She cried out, only to hear her own voice echoing back from the stone around her, and the light, beautiful laughter of another elf on the other side of the stone.

It was the enchantress, and her mocking laughter rang through the tomb, the tomb that the Sorceress now resided in. The necklace was gone from her neck, and everything that had come before was but a dream, a nothingness used to drain her magic. The footsteps of the enchantress faded away as she left the Sorceress in her place, and the light that the elf had conjured faded, the last of her magic gone, sealing her in darkness forever more.

It is a dark tale, as you can see Miss Silveria. But it has a very important lesson in it, one that I think my people forgot long ago. We have retold this story countless times, but even we fell victim to the crime of grasping at power that was never ours, of using the lazy method of siphoning energy without the work required to truly appreciate what it was we were doing.

I have been tested twice so far. To you, the answers to the tests might have seemed obvious, but to me they were the most difficult tests I have ever taken.

The first test was when I had to choose between fleeing my life forever, or staying with my family, friends, and other loved ones. They had chosen a dark path, and I had the option of staying with them, or running and forfeiting both the power they offered and my connection with them forever. With great pain and reluctance I chose to leave them behind, and passed that test.

The second test was at the end of the world as I knew it. I had the option of dying with my world, and remaining undiminished as I passed from this world, or of using every last ounce of my power to save my life, knowing I would never again hold that power in my hands. I chose to diminish myself, and in the moment you call the Sundering, I too was sundered by my own hand. The spell that kept me alive cost me everything, all of my magic and power, and no matter how hard I study now, I will never be that same Sorceress again. I chose life, and a chance to redeem myself, over my power.

Our conversation yesterday shows me now what my third and final test will be; I will have to choose to remain as I was and be destroyed by my own hand as in the fable I just related to you, or strive to become something new in this new world. Do I work towards a new future, the new life that I already gave up so much for? Or do I allow old habits to draw me down the easy path, siphoning power from this Sunwell that the pink elves have created, easily giving me magic that has tainted their entire race? Did I sacrifice everything only to throw it away now?

I will pass this test, as I passed the first two. I did not live so that I could die pointlessly now. I lived to change my destiny, and I will do that. Our conversation has shown me how much further I have yet to go, but also that there is a way, should I open my eyes enough to see it.

I hope you do not mind that I sent you this letter, but I had to put these thoughts down on paper. I think writing this to you is as much a way for me to release these feelings as an explanation for my thoughts and an apology for still faltering in my steps. I hope you can understand, and that you will continue to lend me your support which has meant so much so far.

I leave you with this final thought; I am neither the Enchantress nor the Sorceress. I am simply Malandrae, and I will diminish and fade to nothing before that fate takes me, before I make the same mistakes as SHE did.

Your faithful friend,
Grand Apprentice Malandrae Moonwhisper, Former Second Advisor of the Queen's Research Council

The Most Valuable Treasure

*Over 10,000 years ago, minutes before the destruction of Zin'azshari*

His boot struck the door hard near the lock, splintering the delicate doorframe around the portal and hurling the wooden barrier inward. The highborne elf paused as he stepped into the doorway, grabbing the doorjam for support as a distant rumble caused the building to shake. Ketheron Starstrike shook his head, his lips set in a grim line; there was little time left, and soon everything would be consumed by the madness of his Queen. He peered into the chamber he had just breached, knowing he had to hurry.

The room made his lips curl in distaste. It was a large bedchamber, with a luxurious four post bed set in the center, silken sheets strewn messily across it. On the end of the bed, on the floor, hanging out of closets, and draped across fine chairs and divans were a variety of clothes ranging from expensive and fancy dresses to alluring skimpy underthings that momentarily distracted him as he imagined their owner wearing them; a sight he'd seen many times since he was one of her lovers.

Shaking his head, he stepped into the pigstye of a room, dismissing the thoughts of Malandrae Moonwhisper from his mind. Her bedroom was a disaster area, and it was going to delay him at a time when he couldn't afford to tarry. His eyes quickly scanned the room, desperately seeking a specific object amongst the clutter. Her bedchambers in the base of the High Arcanist's tower was the only place he had not yet searched as the world fell to chaos around him. He knew that Malandrae had taken one of the High Arcanist's spellbooks; she had whispered as much to him while sharing his bed only a week before. He had to find it and escape before it was destroyed along with the rest of the city.

His eyes caught sight of the object he was seeking on her writing desk. There amidst a stack of papers sat an open book as well as a thick, closed book beside it. He concentrated, detecting ridiculously powerful and dangerous wards covering the closed book. He grinned and snatched it up, whispering the words to a spell.

Long ago Ketheron had planned to steal the book, using his love affair with Malandrae as a key to gain access to the High Arcanist's private collection. He'd prepared a way to whisk himself to the far corners of the empire in a moment's notice once he had it in his hands. That spell came in handy now as he was taken far from Malandrae's room by the magic.

Seconds later the ocean poured in, the death of Zin'azshari taking Malandrae's things to the bottom of the sea forever.

**************************************

*Current time*

In the early morning light, Ketheron stared at the wall of the house deep in the middle of the Mage District of Stormwind. After all this time his chance had finally come. He could feel his pulse racing as he stepped closer to the structure. Whispering the words of an ancient Highborne spell, he pressed himself against the brick, passing through it as if there was no barrier at all.

He stepped into a rather messy bedroom with two beds in it. His lip curled in distaste as he saw clothes strewn all about, but the look quickly passed as he noticed one of the beds had a sleeping occupant in it. Quickly he pulled out a wand and pointed it at the sleeper. A fat glob of what could only be described as magical spiderwebs hurtled from the end, wrapping around the elf on the bed, who squeaked in fright as she was awakened.

Ketheron grinned, stepping forward and yanking the covers off the elf's face. His grin faded as he realized who it was that was lying on the bed.

"Eldre'nor Moonrunner!" he snarled. "I should have realized you would somehow survive with your vapid little friend. Tell me, where is Malandrae? Where is the Second Advisor?"

Eldre'nor blinked in shock and squeaked again, barely able to form words as she recognized Malandrae's former lover. Ketheron rolled his eyes and muttered a word, causing his wand to crackle with dancing electricity. "You WILL answer my questions Eldre'nor. I need Malandrae to undo some wards, and she will comply with my desires or I'll see you both horribly maimed. Do I make myself clear?"

Eldre'nor shook her head, which caused Ketheron to bring the wand down towards her, the energy on it hissing. "Very well then, we'll do this the hard way."

Just as he was about to press the sparking magical device to the helpless Highborne on the bed, the bedroom door slammed open. Ketheron looked up in shock to take in the face of Ilhedith Knox. She stood in the doorway, her eyes narrowed in rage. "You dare to enter my home and threaten one of my apprentices?" She said, her voice calm but chilling.

Ketheron merely sneered, bringing his wand up and pointing it at the human. Before he could utter the command word a bolt of arcane magic flew through the air, shattering the device and sending the shards slamming into the furniture on the other side of the room, leaving hissing trails of smoke. The Highborne shook his hand, his face a mask of rage as he shouted and pointed with his other hand.

Several missiles trailed from his finger, flying through the air towards the human. She strode forward, magic crackling around her as her wards absorbed the barrage. Her own energy built in the air, and a heavy scent of ozone filled the room as she prepared to do battle in earnest.

Ketheron frowned, taking a step back and then whirling. He blinked across the bedroom, reappearing before the window and hurling himself out to make his escape, glass cascading down around him. Ilhedith wasted no time, repeating his action and re-appearing where he had been standing a second before. She passed through the now open portal, landing neatly on the paving stones outside and then rolling. An arcane barrage slammed into the stone side of the home right where she had been standing, sending rock chips flying.

"Begone human!" Ketheron shouted. "This is a personal matter. I simply want Malandrae Moonwhisper, and no one need be injured."

Ilhedith's hand shot up and a half-dozen orbs of arcane energy were hurled through the air, sparking against the magic shielding the Highborne. "That's funny, I don't recall in any way saying you could touch one of my apprentices. In fact, I think you're the only one who is going to be injured here."

The Highborne became enraged, shouting words of power and slamming Ilhedith's wards with a series of concussive arcane blasts. She stumbled, her magic barely holding back the fury of the angry elf. "You play games with powers you cannot even comprehend human. You will be a pile of ash and I'll have Malandrae anyway. Be a good wretch and die now if you will."

Ilhedith strained, calling more magic to herself as wave after wave of powerful energy slammed into her. Her foe had been casting spells for tens of thousands of years, and it was all she could do to stop his magic from slicing through her. Her own spells ineffectively were absorbed by his wards, and she knew it was only a matter of time before he won unless she did something. In desperation, she concentrated on her enemy, studying him through the rippling magical shielding that kept death inches from her. Her eyes widened as she spotted something.

The brooch on his cloak had a delicate arcane symbol etched into it, the same symbol that Malandrae had drawn on one of her homework assignments; a highborne rune that she had placed next to the normal spellrunes for her wardwork. Without a moment's hesitation, Ilhedith blinked again, her smaller form slamming into the elf and physically pushing him back. She followed this up with a burst of arcane missiles that pounded into him, painfully bruising his arm and shredding the pouches at his belt. Arcane spell components burned to ash or fell to the ground around him, leaving little wisps of spent magic in the air.

Ketheron reeled backwards, a smirk on his lips. "Is that all you can do human? Highborne magic is far more powerful than your pathetic craft."

Ilhedith merely smiled and held out her hand. His brooch lay nestled in her palm, the magic on it glittering in the light, his wards gone with it. "I've learned a thing or two about Highborne spells. Malandrae was kind enough to show me, even as I've taught her proper respect for magic, something you clearly lack. Allow me to show you one of the spells she taught me."

Before he could respond the human mage pointed, a chant on her lips. Energy swirled in the air around him, Highborne runes dancing before his vision. His movements slowed, and then halted entirely as his mouth opened in horror. His body paled in color, and then his clothing and personal effects also faded, everything becoming a dull gray color as the stasis spell that Malandrae had once used on herself took hold of him. Within seconds, the statue of a Highborne male adorned Ilhedith's front porch.

Ilhedith paused, taking a deep breath. Her hands came up and looped some of her hair behind her ear where it had come free of it's clip. She examined the elf-statue carefully; it would be several years before the magic wore off as she'd not put full effort into the effect. She had remembered how much it had cost Malandrae after all! Her eyes paused in their examination, seeing an object lying on the ground by the defeated foe. She bent down, scooping it up and holding it in astonishment.

In her hands was a heavily warded, ancient looking book.

*************************************

Malandrae squealed in delight, holding the book to her chest and jumping up and down. Ilhedith glanced over at Eldre'nor, the two sitting at the kitchen table. The other Highborne shrugged at her and the Professor returned her gaze to her excited apprentice.

"I can't believe you found this!" she exclaimed excitedly. "This is amazing! I thought I would never see this book again! Let's get the wards off!"

Ilhedith took a deep breath as the Highborne began to chant, prepared to leap to her feet and end the spellwork if need be. Fortunately she had no need to worry; the wards on the book had clearly been placed there by Malandrae in the first place, and they fell away one by one without incident. The elf opened the cover and let out a giggle, holding the book up.

Immediately Ilhedith covered her face with her hand, not wanting to look directly into a Highborne spellbook. She could image the wards and deadly traps set on each page and the amount of work it would take just to survive a glance. After a moment, when no explosions happened, she allowed her fingers to open a crack and peered through. Her eyes widened in shock as she lowered her hands.

It was a cookbook.

For ten thousand years, the male Highborne had carried the book, unable to break Malandrae's wards and believing he had stolen one of the most powerful of the High Arcanist's spellbooks. For ten thousand years, he had carried nothing more than a cookbook that Malandrae had warded with some of the most deadly spells Ilhedith had ever seen for no apparent reason.

"B-but I thought it was a very special, powerful book..." the Professor said, trailing off.

Malandrae smiled, "Well, it's very special I suppose! To me anyway! I wonder what became of the High Arcanist's spellbook? The last I recall, I had left it right beside this one. I was transcribing pages from it!"

She shrugged, looking back into the book. Ilhedith and Eldre'nor just stared at her in surprise. After a moment, Malandrae squealed with delight again, jabbing a manicured finger down to the pages before her.

"Oh Professor! You're going to love this! This is my mother's recipe passed down for generations! With this, we can make one of the most delicious cakes you could ever possibly taste!"

Ilhedith leaned forward, her interest suddenly piqued, a beautiful smile on her face. "A recipe for delicious cake you say...?"

Malandrae smiled and nodded, sliding the book towards her teacher and friend. Sometimes the most valuable treasure is not powerful magic, gold, or artifacts, but a simple smile passed on through the long years.

A GREAT Idea!

The figure walked slowly down the ramp leading from the Temple of the Moon, a cowl covering her head and cloak flowing out behind her. Dressed in tight-fitting laced up cloth armor, the night elf's outfit was complete with a hunting knife strapped at her belt and bow strung across her back. Her footsteps were loud as her thigh-high boots clicked against the smooth stone pathway, heading deeper into Darnassus.

As the huntress passed other night elves, most gave her only a glance at best, and she secretly smiled to herself, relishing in the ability to mingle amongst them. Malandrae had spent a very long time putting together the PERFECT outfit that was a cross between what a sentinel might wear and one of the adventuring hunters that often visited the city. Except for the immediate glances when she stepped through the portal in the temple, no one else had paid her any mind at all! It was a fantastic idea she'd come up with!

She headed deeper into the city, passing through the Craftsman's Terrace and towards the outskirts of the city where a shop was located that she needed to visit. As she approached it, she heard a growing rumble of voices as they neared her. Curious, she turned her head, her cowl having obstructed her vision of the peaceful pathways between the natural tree-houses and shops. There, heading straight for her, were over twenty night elves, all shouting at each other and looking worried.

"There! There's one! Sentinel! We need your help RIGHT AWAY!" one of the people in the crowd shouted.

Malandrae blinked in surprise as one of the elves grabbed her arm and started to drag her towards the forest. "W-what...?"

For a moment, she couldn't make out individual words as everyone attempted to shout over each other, all the while half-dragging her along with urgent tugs at her arm. After a minute or two of this confused chaos, one of the other elves managed to shout down his companions and explained the problem to Malandrae, even as they continued to bring her deeper into the forest on top of Teldrassil.

"A child's been taken by one of the spider matriarchs deep in the forest's heart! We need to rescue him right away, before he's poisoned by the creature," the elf said, almost out of breath from hurrying. "We need your bow!"

"B-but I..." Malandrae trailed off as she was tugged along even more urgently. "W-where are the sentinels...?"

"Why do you think we got YOU?" Another elf said. Even as he spoke, the group entered a large clearing that was surrounded by high trees on all sides. Towards the far end of the clearing the ground dipped down, forming a natural cave of the tree roots. Before it loomed a huge spider, many times the size of an elf, with a tiny cocoon on the ground before it. "There's the beast! You have to do something!"

Malandrae felt herself roughly shoved forward. One of the elves even took her bow off her back and thrust it into her hands. She stood there for a moment, gaping at the spider and then back to the bow in her hands; a bow that she had absolutely no idea how to use. Even as she watched, the spider reared up above the trapped child, it's fangs dripping vicious looking green venom.

The crowd behind Malandrae began to scream, and something in her mind broke down. The screams triggered a memory buried deep within her, something she subconsciously blocked. Like a lock snapping, the door to the memories in her mind opened, and the screams of the elves around her mingled with the screams in her memory, the images of Zin'azshari's last days playing through her. Her eyes focused on nothing, lost in the episode, her body numb.

Her dazed mind focused her eyes on a single object; the drop of venom that fell from one of the spider's fangs. It glimmered in the light, seeming to slip off the protrusion and tumble in slow motion, as if it would take forever to strike the ground near the child. She watched it in bemusement, her mind filled with terrible thoughts and far from her body.

The drop struck the ground and splattered.

Her mind snapped back to NOW, her numb body shaking with the force of the return of her consciousness. Screams assailed her ears as the spider lunged. The bow tumbled from her nerveless fingers to the leafy ground. A single thought floated through her dazed mind.

Do the right thing this time.

Her hands came up and the ancient power that she once commanded crackled in the air around her, building up as if it had never been gone. For a single moment she was whole again, as before her stasis spell drained all her energy, before her world was unmade. She pointed, her magic a beautiful song on the wind. The huge spider's lunge was slowed to almost nothing as time itself bent around the creature. Malandrae dashed forward, the song of her spells floating with her and surrounding her in power. She bent down and scooped up the child, cradling him in her arms as time snapped back into place.

The spider's fangs slammed into the magical shield she had erected around herself, and without even consciously doing it, Malandrae spoke a word and teleported herself and the child over a dozen yards away from the creature. With its lunch taken, the spider gave off a hissing sound, lunging after the Highborne. Malandrae's hand came up and again a song floated on the air, dozens of orbs of arcane magic slamming into the spider, the ground, and the trees behind it. Pulped spider guts sprayed everywhere and the ground was torn to pieces as she expended the last of the power she'd touched when her dissociation episode began.

In the stillness that followed the destruction, the elves stepped forward, two of them taking the child and quickly unwrapping him from the spider's webbing. Rough hands grabbed Malandrae, yanking her cowl off and spinning her around. There was no mistaking the fading glow of arcane magic in her eyes as she looked at the other elves.

"It's a dirty arcane user!"
"Highborne!"
"She was pretending to be a sentinel!"
"I almost wish the child had died rather than have her filthy hands on it!"
"We should toss her off Teldrassil and be done with her!"

Other words pounded against her ears, unheard in the general rumble of the angry group of elves but unmistakeable in their intent. One of them spit on the ground in front of her, and most gave her dirty looks before turning and striding away in anger. She just stood and watched them go, her mind still trying to comprehend what had happened.

A hand touched her shoulder.

She turned and looked, seeing the two elves who had been freeing the child still standing nearby. The nearest, a female, smiled at her and nodded. "You saved my son's life. I can never repay you for this. The Goddess bless you and watch over you." Behind her, the man, presumably her husband, nodded and smiled as well.

Malandrae was at a loss for words. Her mouth opened but nothing came out as the various emotions she'd just experienced warred within her. Finally she closed her mouth and just nodded, bowing her head.

The other elf squeezed her shoulder before turning back to her son. She and her husband began to walk slowly away, but over her shoulder she gave Malandrae final parting words, "Don't ever let them make you doubt that you were a hero today. It doesn't matter who or what you are."

Malandrae watched the two as they walked out of sight, the silence of the forest surrounding her for a time. Finally a smile lit her face and she sighed, "Well, that could have gone a LOT worse I guess! Could have gone better too! And to think I dressed down for nothing!"

She whispered a word and a portal opened before her, leading her back to Stormwind, and a world that she at least was partially beginning to understand. It would take far longer for her to understand her own people, for they were as alien to her now as the humans were. With another sigh she stepped through the portal and was gone.

Oh So Sorry

Her hands were shaking again. Malandrae paused in her task, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. Her hands shouldn't be shaking. She shouldn't be feeling the gut churning fear and anxiety, but it was there, irrationally tearing at her mind like a beast with claws. She held her hands up in front of her face, opening her silver eyes and trying to focus on them.

They kept shaking, although less now. Her skin was dirty, and little lacerations covered her from the tips of her fingers to close to her elbow. It was evidence enough that she had no working knowledge of what she was doing; a professional would not have injured herself.

Then again, a professional would not want to die at this moment either.

The fear bubbled up inside of her again and she gave a little groan, trying to keep it contained within her. She felt like a shell wrapped around the fear, her skin a paper-thin layer that contained beneath it nothing but endless nightmare. She couldn't explain it, and it had not always been this way, but the simple task that she was currently engaged in made it build up until she could scream.

It had taken her hours to build up the nerve to do what she was now doing. She had thought about it endlessly, questioned the wisdom of facing what was most likely a mental disorder. She wasn't so blind as to not be able to recognize that there was something seriously wrong with her, but there was no cure for it and no one she could share it with that would possibly understand. Despite these misgivings though she decided to press on with the plan, and hours later she found herself kneeling on the ground, her hands shaking.

For a moment, she smirked at her own state. How the merchant in the nearby shop had looked at her when he saw her! She must have been about eight shades too pale, and had already quietly gotten sick in the gutter on the way to his store. But she'd had gold coins, and the determination in her stance had convinced him that her purchase was serious.

He'd even politely ignored the choked off whimper she gave off when he handed her the first of his wares to cart away.

It had all been necessary though. She had done something terrible to a person who deserved nothing but kindness and thanks. The atonement she paid now would not be the full price after she confessed her mistake to Professor Knox, but she had to do something to make up for it before then, in her own way. She had to do the most distasteful and horrifying thing she had done since awakening from her spell several weeks ago. It was the only answer for her crimes.

She pressed her shaking hands down to the ground again, making the final touches, completing the task that she'd spent the last four hours toiling at. Quietly she whispered words of magic, spells that she had pre-planned spilling from her lips with the ease of long use. Song-like words floated through the air, and ancient highborne magic flowed around her, the pattern of it as natural to her as breathing.

When it was finally done, she stood up slowly, not wanting to look at what she'd wrought. She reached to her belt and took a small piece of parchment from a pouch. Quickly, she stepped up to a nearby door and with a whispered word of magic stuck the letter to the wood. It would be easily removed by the recipient, the spell failing once the letter was handled. Malandrae rested her dirty palm on the wood of the door for a moment.

"I'm so so sorry...please forgive me," she whispered to the closed door.

She sighed, curled her hand into a fist and knocked loudly on the door three times. A second later she whispered the words to a spell, and her image blurred and faded to nothing as she became invisible. A muffled sob escaped her as she walked away, unseen by the citizens of Stormwind. Many would report hearing the cries of a lost spirit as she made her way home, weeping to herself both from the relief of being away from what she had made and from what she perceived as a loss of friendship due to her own foolish mistakes.

******************************

The door that Malandrae had knocked on belonged to Chelody Smallwing, amongst others. Upon opening it to the knock, several things would be noticed. The first was that a crowd of bystanders had gathered at the front of the house, their mouths gaping open in shock, and the second would be that a note was tacked to the door with magic.

Any who lived in the house would find, upon stepping outside, that the front of the structure had been altered. Lining the front of the home were now gorgeous beds of blooming red roses, each flower perfect and planted in gardens that had not previously been there. Above them, four orbs of magic hung, glowing with a golden light and shaped themselves like roses. They gave off a warm radiance that would keep the flowering plants warm even in the colder months of autumn and winter, beaming down on the beautiful display of color.

Amongst the blooms small little wisps of blue light could be seen moving between the plants. Upon closer inspection it became obvious that they were glowbugs conjured from magic, each wandering amongst the blooms and carefully collecting water from the air, delivering it the plants as needed and keeping them free of pests and perfect looking. Rather than taking away from the scene, the gently glowing spells flitted to and fro amongst the roses and added to the beauty of the display.

The citizens who had stopped to stare could not help but agree that the garden was one of the most beautiful they had ever seen, and certainly a precious gem in the city. The highborne spells used to create it were unique to Malandrae's power; little things she had picked up from her instructors or borrowed over the years of her training in another lifetime. A gift to a friend who she'd harmed. A gift given through sheer determination and stubbornness to prevail over the almost paralyzing fear that gripped the highborne mage every time she saw a rose.

The note read:

Dear Chelody,
I found out what happened with the letter I sent you. I cannot believe how foolish I was to do something that would injure you when all you have done is show me kindness. I can only hope that one day you will forgive me, and that you have taken no lasting harm from my actions.

I am beyond embarrassed to know that I have repaid your friendship with injury and ill actions. All along I knew that I did not belong here, but the kindness you and others showed me allowed me to feel comfortable with this place. Enough that I could try and learn the ways of things. And then I go and do a stupid thing like forgetting that not everyone here handles magic as my people used to.

Perhaps I will never fit in here, maybe I am incapable of learning. I do not know, but I regret deeply that I would ruin the friendship you willingly gave me. I have never been so ashamed and disappointed in myself.

Please accept this small gift as an apology for what I did. I know I cannot make it up to you, and was asked not to come over to help clean up the mess I created. I will also help you find new clothes. I know none of this can make up for my mistake though. I hope that you don't hate me utterly.

This letter will NOT catch on fire. Please do not fear my gift either; I have placed no harming magic on it. I just wanted to give you something to make up for what I ruined. Again, I am so very sorry.
Your extremely apologetic friend,
Malandrae Moonwhisper

Research Journal- Personal Observations

*Along the shores of Azshara lie the remains of various Highborne structures and pieces of their once great empire. One of the buildings, thousands of years old, once again glows with light as the wards on it are renewed by one who has done such things for centuries. There, on the soft sand covered floor of what was once a beautiful home, Malandrae sleeps fitfully, her journal open on the ground beside her.*

It is not Zin'azshari. It is not the ruins of my home. That is the first thought that came to mind, the first relief I had when I came to this place. I had no idea that any more of our cities still existed, and when I heard the people at Druidess Smallwing's meeting speaking of such a place, I had to come and see it. I had to know if any of it survived.

It is Eldarath. I knew it from the minute I set my eyes upon it, even from a distance. Who would not recall the grand temple of Zin-malor? Who could possibly forget the thousand glowing points of magic that had illuminated the structure? The grand towers that looked down upon the land around it, bathed in magic? They were beautiful works of art, and it was a place I'd visited many times before. It is all in ruins now, a sad reminder of what once was and what will never be again.

After this weekend, I think that many would be overjoyed to look upon these ruins and see them. They would think "Here then is an example of folly, of a people who knew nothing and went into the sea where they belong." I know this because several people made comments at me, called me names and told me terrible things. They wish I wasn't here, and they don't know that I wish the same thing. I don't belong here, in this place. I belong back then, back when this city was a wonder to look upon. Sometimes I wonder why I lived through it when beautiful places like this didn't survive. By what chance did Eldre'nor and I manage to escape when so many others didn't?

I'm not sure how to face the children of the people who survived what we did. Those who fling angry words at my kind because they know what a danger we can be. They act like I'm too stupid to realize what happened. In the end, I saw what the Queen was doing, even if it was too late and my eyes were blind until the last moment. I know. That is why I accept the words they cast at me. Because they're right.

During my exploration of the ruins I was attacked by Naga. I had some very strange feelings go through my mind when I was forced to fight them. The first was that Silveria was right; you have to fight in this world, or you'll simply be killed. It is not like where I came from where safety was assured (but was it?). You have to protect yourself. I don't know if I can do it. I don't know if I can take lives with my magic. That's not what it is for!

And yet, when the Naga attacked me, I realized that I was fighting the great-children of my friends and loved ones. At least the ones who stayed with the Queen. Each one that fell was like a little piece of solace. I didn't stop them when I had the chance, but I am stopping their descendants from continuing the same destructive course. It is like time cast me forward to this place to undo the wrongs that we made.

Maybe that is the answer then? Is there such thing as fate? I don't even pretend to have the answer to that question. I don't even understand the world that I've been placed in, but I do know that I have little time to learn. I have to decide to act, instead of sitting and cowering like I've done before. I have to do SOMETHING to help. I'm thousands of years too late to stop a disaster, but the people that have claimed the world in our absence have done wonderful things, and have created beauty that I can help protect now.

Even so, I sit now in the ruins of a home and look out over the sea from the balcony and wonder if I don't belong drowned under the waves with everything I knew. These thoughts are alien to me; I'm never this sad but tonight just brought it all crashing down on my head. The comments, and then seeing this place were almost too much.

I have to believe there is a reason why my bones don't rest in the sea. I have to believe fate has a purpose for me. Maybe the Goddess herself does. I do not know, but I intend to find out. I have another chance, and this time I will do the right thing.

The home of my new friends will never be ruins like these.

Current Research Projects- A Summary

*The paper is left in a neat stack on Professor Ilhedith Knox's desk in her study; the study that is supposed to be off limits to her apprentices... *

Current Research Projects- A summary by Grand Apprentice Malandrae Moonwhisper

Current theories/research points:

1) Male pattern baldness- With the help of Eldre'nor, we have developed a partial cure for male pattern baldness in the human male. Attempts at using worgen fur to assist with male pattern baldness in other races has met with mixed results. While this treatment seems effective, lycanthropy appears to be a serious side effect ranging in conditions that vary from becoming a worgen to becoming an inanimate pile of goo. Additional research is suggested for this field. Despite suggestions otherwise, I have not sampled the goo to determine if it is edible.

2) Ward application- Much progress has been made in this field of study. While my wards do still have a fifty percent chance of delivering a lethal effect, I believe that with further study and testing I can reduce this to forty percent! I continue to practice this field of magic by applying wards to any objects which appear to need protection. My latest target objects have been the spoons in the kitchen, as they are made of silver and are prime targets for thieves. I saw Eldre'nor use one for her breakfast this morning, and she didn't die, so I'm taking this as a sign of success!

3) Buzzbox operation- I have been given a buzzbox by Miss Chelody Smallwing! Unfortunately I spilled wine on it, and it seems to turn on at random/inconvenient times. I am researching how to repair this device and possibly enhance its capabilities to assist me in hearing things that I cannot currently hear. I would be interested to listen to the sound of an insect breathing for instance, and am working on further developing this device. Unfortunately, I'm not even really sure what it is made out of or how it was created.

Future research/information points:

1) I would like to develop a spell that prevents my heels from sinking into sand. I have had quite a difficult time exploring parts of the world when wearing my favorite shoes and boots. I was advised to wear more 'appropriate' footwear but then I would be unimaginably short and that would be intolerable. I believe a spell to either repel the force of gravity or perhaps something to add downward thrust to my footwear should alleviate this problem. My work is ongoing.

2) Twilight's Hammer- This appears to be a cult of humans and others who wish to destroy the world while they are still ON it. This makes absolutely no sense to me whatsoever, but several reliable sources have insisted this is the case. I believe that studying several test subjects from this group will allow me to better understand how they could be so very stupid. Stupidity is not to be tolerated after all! We must educate them! And also they attempted to injure Professor Knox, which is unacceptable.

3) Corrienda Windwhisper- This Druidess has provided me with excellent conversation as well as milk and cookies. I propose that additional research should be performed as to the proper depth of cookie dipping into milk that should be performed with each motion of the wrist. The study will require a large batch of cookies and milk, and may take some time to complete since the dipping process would need to be completed and measured and then the cookies tasted to determine which depth was best. I am hopeful that the Druidess would be willing to participate in such an experiment since she has such wonderful cookies.

4) Eyes- I have noted several people missing eyes. Professor Knox indicated that this is not common. I would like to determine a way to regrow these organs, but first must conduct more research into the resilience of the eyes of other races to determine which type of eye is best to concentrate on. This work is ongoing.

Upcoming interviews/information gathering exercises:

1) Silveria Silverleaf- This wonderful elf has offered to allow me to interview her. Topics of conversation should include the current state of the night elf empire, the lack of a queen, and reasons why Chelody Smallwing would not make an appropriate queen since she indicated that this was the case. I would also like to ask her about the pink elves and why I heard a druid refer to them as 'traitors'.

2) Mellery SunCog and Jazari Swiftblade- Miss SunCog has proposed that I interview Jazari Swiftblade to learn more of the gnomes and specifically to allow me to examine a male gnome in detail. I spoke briefly with this Jazari and he seemed amiable to having such an interview; he will not require a hat as a gift. I should also point out that he claims not to be suffering from male pattern baldness, although I will need to collect hair samples to verify this point. Miss SunCog believes that I need to learn more about both gnomes and dwarves. I will follow and observe her as much as possible whenever possible in order to do so.

3) Vomher Wyrmcurse- This is a pink elf. He apparently believes he is surrounded by idiots, or at least that is the impression I got from the brief conversation we had using the spell medium earlier. I will need to study him in depth to determine why he is so very pink in color. Hopefully some conclusion can be drawn from this. I would also like to examine his eyes to see if they are resilient to damage when compared to normal eyes, as per research point four.

4) Chelody Smallwing- While no interview is scheduled with Druidess Smallwing, I believe I should observe her closely to better learn her likes and dislikes. If she is to be my future queen, it would be appropriate for me to learn all there is to know about her. I have already drawn several images of her (attached) both in her traditional druid garb as well as a queen's raiment. Since I only saw her the one time, these drawings are currently only stick-frame, however I plan to enhance them at a later date. I will make a note of the method in which she wields power and help her find the best course towards queendom.

Summary

All research is progressing well. I am highly enjoying the lessons taught by Professor Knox. I believe that the future is bright, and am grateful to the Professor and others for giving me the opportunity to learn about this new world. If Eldre'nor would stop hiding my research documents I think that I would have progressed even further. I will put non-poisonous serpents in her bed while she is sleeping later to ensure that she ceases this activity at once.

*The rest of the page contains doodles, magical formula, poorly completed math equations, and a stick figure drawing of Chelody Smallwing wearing a crown.*

Talking About Your Feelings

They had always been close. It was only natural after all, sharing a womb and then sharing the first years of their lives would naturally make two sisters grow closer together. Although they didn't look alike, the twins often shared the same mind, the same interests, and they liked the same things. It was a bond that had always been there, as natural as breathing, and one that had seen them through adversity large and small.

Biara often recalled one of the earliest examples of the bond between herself and Kyliska. It was a memory that stayed with her through the years, and in this moment it came to mind most clearly.

They had been little children at the time, often working or playing beside the building where their father kept his forge. All Castanics were good at crafting things, and their father had been no exception; his weapons had been known far and wide for their quality and beauty. Even as children he had encouraged both of his daughters to take up their own crafts, and Kyliska especially had seemed well suited for weaponsmithing with her attention to detail and innate strength. Biara had been smaller of course, more agile but less strong and it was clear her path would be different; perhaps crafting beautiful jewelry or other items which required less strength and more delicate handling.

Regardless, it had been on one of those occasions where Kyliska was working the forge and Biara was sent to fetch water for the cooling troughs within the building when the first example of their sisterly bond had played out. While on her way to the well, Biara had been intercepted by several of the other children who had taken it upon themselves to first trip the running Castanic child and then steal her water bucket. The teary-eyed Biara had returned to the forge building where Kyliska had stood with her fists on her hips as her weeping sibling explained what had occurred.

Biara remembered clearly the look on her sister's face, even after so many years had passed. The child-Kyliska had marched from the forge to find the children clustered in a group, one of them using the stolen bucket as a seat. The indignant Castanic child had kicked the other off the bucket and snatched it up. As the group of children surrounded her in anger, she had used it to systematically bludgeon the other children until they became a pile of crying, bruised and runny-nosed miscreants lying on the ground.

Biara would never forget the look on Kyliska's face as she slammed the bucket down on one of the ringleader's heads, shattering it. Her sister had risen up and looked at Biara sternly before stating, "Never let others take what is yours Biara. When they strike at you in order to steal from you, you strike harder."

******************************

The words echoed strangely in Biara's mind as her sister's voice whispered in her ear, "Never EVER try to take something of mine Biara."

Kyliska's hands firmly gripped Biara's horns as she violently guided her sister's head against a cupboard in the kitchen of their guild hall in Velika. Biara saw stars for a moment as her head collided with the wood, bouncing off of it with a dull thud. Her red hair fell in her eyes as she tried to blink back the tears that formed naturally. Kyliska was not quite done though, using her grip on her smaller sister's horns to pull and then shove her towards the dining room table.

Biara staggered into the furniture, using her hands to balance herself and quickly flipping over the wooden surface, putting it in between herself and Kyliska. She grinned across the table at her fuming sister.

"A person is not a thing Kyli," Biara responded coyly, "And besides, it's not like I MADE Andissiel go on a trip with me. He REQUESTED to come along into the Cathedral."

It was, of course, precisely the wrong thing to say to Kyliska. Biara knew it. She had said it on purpose. She didn't expected her sister to lunge across the table quite so quickly however. Kyliska's plate armor covered very little of her flesh, giving her far more mobility than the other races. She quickly reached the edge of the table and then was flying over it; Biara's look of surprise comical to the blonde-haired Castanic.

The collision of their bodies made little noise as nearly naked flesh hit soft leather. Biara winced as she felt the few pieces of Kyliska's armor that covered her bust dig painfully into her side as her sister's weight brought them both down to the ground. Slammed beneath her larger sister, Biara's breath whooshed out and Kyliska took the opportunity to grab a fistful of red hair, using it to hold Biara's head in place, her other hand pressing her face against the floor.

"I've had enough excuses from you!" She snarled. "You had better not TOUCH him. He's mine! I expect that next time you decide to take a trip with him, you damn well better take me along. Got it?"

When Biara didn't respond, Kyliska leaned forward, snarling into her ear while pulling her hair, "GOT IT?"

Biara rolled her eyes, her lips parting to say something sarcastic to the other Castanic when her eyes widened and she gasped, her gaze fixated on the doorway. Kyliska's head whirled, blonde hair whipping around her as her gaze came to rest on the Castanic man leaning against the kitchen's doorframe.

Andissiel smirked as he watched the sisters, his hand bringing a juicy red apple to his lips. He took a bite, chewing slowly, the sound of the apple crunching the only noise in the suddenly quiet kitchen. His eyes conveyed hint that he'd been listening to the entire conversation with wry amusement.

"Biara," he said innocently, "I've filed those reports you asked for. They're on your desk. Should be more than enough information for you to report our findings to the Federation."

Kyliska's hands, still intertwined in her sister's hair, quickly released her sibling as she lurched to her feet, "Andissiel! We were...er...we were just having some combat training! Come, let's go for a walk! I've missed you so much and we have so much to talk about now that you're back in the city!"

Andissiel smiled as Kyliska practically bounced over to him, his eyes roaming over her tanned skin. Behind her, Biara slowly got to her feet, watching the two and biting her lip. For the briefest moment Andissiel's gaze met hers and an electrified look passed between them before he wrapped his arms around Kyliska.

"Yes, let's do that Kyli! I'm sure Biara won't mind cleaning up in here. Besides, she's got so much paperwork to complete now that she's the Captain," Andissiel said, amusement tinging his voice.

Kyliska's gaze whipped back around to her sister, speaking volumes about future conversations the two would have. "Yes. Yes she does. She should probably stay here ALL DAY completing that work. It would be a shame if she were penalized by the Federation for not properly filing her reports."

Biara rolled her eyes, dusting her clothes off, "Yes of course. Why don't you two go and have fun. I'll take care of things here. I'll talk to you later about your reports Andissiel."

Now it was Kyliska's turn to bite her lip and frown at her sister. There was little more to be said though as Andissiel chuckled and nodded, "Very well Captain. We'll return later!" With that, he casually guided Kyliska from the room, the Castanic woman all too eager to spend some quality time with her lover.

Biara smiled to herself after the two had left, her hands coming up to straighten her hair out. "You'll need to strike much harder than that sister. Besides, not everything is yours. Sometimes you have to share."

With that she shrugged, beginning the process of straightening up the kitchen. She had much paperwork to do, paperwork that her sister and Andissiel didn't want to be bothered with. It didn't bother Biara though; it would lead her to more power, and perhaps prestige in the eyes of some. Maybe enough to impress them and win them over.

The smile stayed with the Castanic woman for the rest of the day as she filed her reports.