*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.
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.
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