At Night

The scream cut through the stillness of the evening, shrill and filled with desperation and pain.

Biara sat up in bed her heart pounding and her reverie broken, the sheets held tight against her body as she stared into the darkness of her bedchamber. She had returned to her spire after the battles in Arathi and Stormwind to recover from them and rest. Kyliska and her daughter had also returned, and each slept soundly in the cool stillness of the winter's night. It took a moment for the Magistrix to realize she was shaking, and that the scream had come from her own throat.

The nightmares had come again. It always happened after a battle. She always had to face this in the darkness, left alone to cope with the memories of what she had experienced. Images of the nightmare stirred in her mind. Scenes of her sister being forcefully pushed away by a wave of armored humans as she fought back in the trade district of Stormwind. She saw the broken bodies of her fellow Sin'dorei, their blood running between the paving stones of Wrynn's city, hands reaching out to clutch at her robes in desperation, agony written on their faces. She saw the spells hurlting through the air, glancing off her defensive wards as more and more foes surrounded her, seeking her blood.

Biara shook her head and slowly slipped from her bed, leaving behind the warm comfort for the cool marble of her bedchamber. As she made her way to one of her closets she paused before a floor length mirror and stopped to look at the reflection cast back at her. Her pale face was drawn tight with tension, the wards on her cheek glittering dully in the darkness. Without makeup and with her unbound hair flowing freely behind her, she looked so much less the powerful Magistrix and so much more like what she really felt at this moment; a scared young Sin'dorei who had seen far too much in her years. She frowned at her reflection, noting the dull pink spot on her upper arm where a spell had burned her and she was later healed, as well as the bruises on her collarbone from a blow that had only failed to kill her thanks to her magic. The battle had been harsh indeed.

She turned away from the mirror and walked to one of her closets, pulling out a heavy robe and donning it before proceeding out to one of her balconies. Water elementals stood silent vigil on the lonely, windy platform as she leaned against the railing and looked down over Silvermoon City below. It sparkled with a thousand points of magical light, alive and merry. Perfection itself as far as she was concerned.

"No matter the price, no matter the horrors I face, I will never stop giving of myself for you," she whispered to the city below her. Her words went unheard, but it mattered little; as long as those lights continued to glitter in the night her work was worthwhile. As long as Silvermoon lived, she would bleed for it, and suffer the horrors in the night.

A wind picked up, swirling her red hair around her like a wreath of false flame. She tilted her head back and let it flow over her, let it take her grief and sorrow with it into the night.

No one was there to see the tears glitter on her face as she turned and went back to her bed alone.