Now and Then

The night elf strode through the ruins of Ravenwind, pausing now and then to duck down behind the tumbled stone of the ancient buildings, peering ahead cautiously to check for harpies as she made her way towards the shrine in the heart of the ancient city. Her progress was slow and she had to dart forward in spurts to avoid the roaming harpies who were defending the nests they'd built amongst the ruined dwellings of the Highborne.

Unknown to the night elf, a pair of burning yellow eyes watched her from a distance, tracking her movement through the rubble and ruined buildings, never losing track of the lithe figure even when she tried to hide herself.

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The gowns of the dancing elves swirled around them as the music played in the background. Sparkling with magic, each of the dancers was almost like a work of art, their beauty heightened and perfected by their sorcery, their grace unmatched by any other creatures to have lived or ever to live again on Azeroth.

As the dance picked up its tempo, the most skilled of the elves were naturally isolated in the center of a circle of admirers, their forms whirling in perfect harmony with the music. Cyan hair waving around her, one particularly beautiful elf's laughter rang out over the group as she twirled and moved her body in perfect step, all eyes upon her.

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As she approached the center of the ruins, the number of harpies grew. Their nests were along the cliffs, and the flapping of their wings could be heard now as they gathered. The elf kept in a low crouch, moving swiftly now so they couldn't see her, the muted colors of her battle dress blending into the growth that had overtaken the ancient city. She paused as she neared her objective, studying the shrine from a distance and inspecting its carvings as best she could without physically approaching the structure.

The yellow eyes followed her, drawing nearer now as they studied her, a hint of some ancient memory held in their gaze.

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Soft lips painted a light blue pressed against his, bringing with them a thrill to be so near the delicate creature. Her eyes sparkled silver, playfully reflecting the light of the dining hall where the gathering had taken place. Most of the other guests had wandered off in pairs, or dozed lazily where they had been sitting, the wine overpowering their senses. But it hadn't overpowered hers, or made her any less graceful in the tender moment when the two touched. The things that were said of her were true; she could stir even the coldest heart to flames of passion with just a touch, and he found himself lost when he met her gaze and took in that sweet smile.

It didn't matter that he would not be her first, or even her last lover. Only that they were there together, in that moment. He would have given anything to hold that moment forever in his hand.

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She smiled to herself, whispering the words to a spell under her breath. The magic reached out, stretching through the ruins and heading to the west where they stirred amongst the ancient buildings. A deep vibration could be felt through the earth as the spell touched a latent enchantment held deep within one of the buildings, stirring it to light for the first time in ten thousand years. Magic flared around the structure, lighting it dully now but showing that it must have once lit the building with a brilliant radiance long ago; the spell once a work of art.

The harpies immediately saw the light and felt the vibration, becoming agitated. They flew up into the air with cries and squawks of irritation, hurtling through the ruins towards the distant disturbance, leaving the shrine unattended. The elf waited a moment and darted forward, heading towards the tall stone column.

The eyes followed her every movement, locked on her body with a familiarity that sent a slowly building rage through the creature that watched her.

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It had been so simple to use his power and influence to ensure that she would be working within his tower amongst the Queen's best researchers. Here he could keep an eye on her, could claim her for his own and never have to fear that she would wander or that her eyes and touch would seek another. He would watch her sometimes, admiring the way she brushed her hair out of her face as she tried to puzzle out a simple spell here or catalog an important fact there. She had never been the smartest of the spellcasters within the list of those he could have selected, but he didn't care. She was his, to have and use as he saw fit. He thought of her almost like a treasured pet, a thing that he could show others to enhance his own image. Image was everything after all; image, beauty and power.

Of course, it was not her nature. He knew that. He watched with ever increasing anger as she slipped from the tower to attend a ball here, or a gathering there. Always with her two companions, always laughing. It made him angry to think that he could not own the entirety of her attention, and he knew that she had other lovers, even while she loved him. She was known for it; a flighty creature of unnatural beauty. She was not to be owned, and yet that was his only desire, his only goal.

When the offer came to join with the other Highborne who were gaining new powers, it was not even a question to join with them. With enhanced power, he could finally attain his dream. He could have her entirely to himself. She would be his.

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Her hand reached out, almost reverently touching the stone of the shrine. Her delicate fingers traced the carvings on the stone, her eyes reading them over slowly. Although the structure had been built many thousands of years in the past, she read the inscriptions as if they had been carved only the day before, time meaning nothing to her or to this place. The words were hers, as she belonged to the words. The Shrine gave up its secrets to her, a lost daughter of a time long since gone to dust.

He watched her. He watched her press her hands on the Shrine. He watched her eyes light up as she brushed hair from her face to better read the carvings. He watched that same expression of confusion come over her as she tried to puzzle out something written on the stone; something that was likely easily explained.

He raged that after all the others who had fallen, she still drew breath and still stood there, her vapid mind trying to comprehend something that he could figure out in a moment. It wasn't fair.

It had to end.

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His surprise was absolute when she saw him, when her face took on that expression of disgust. How could she spurn him when he had gained so much power? How could she resist the allure of his perfect new form, of the energy that flowed through him now? And yet...she did. He could see it in her eyes. In the way she hesitantly backed away from him. He reached out to her, his hands elongated and monstrous to her, but perfect and beautiful to him. He was the future, the next evolution of the night elves. How could she resist?

And yet she did. She turned and fled. She ran from him. From him, her master. He knew she would run to them. To her friends and lovers and all of those who drew her attention away from him. It was intolerable, but she was quick, so very quick. Even as disaster fell around them, as the plans of their Queen unraveled, he could not catch her. His last sight of her was of a delicate purple ankle, of her shoe's heel as she turned a corner. And then she was gone forever.

Forever.

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He raced towards her, his hooves digging into the soft soil that covered the ruins and propelling him forward. She had little warning; he'd been very quiet until the last moment. As he crossed the remaining ground between them, she whirled at the sound of his approach, her eyes widening in terror.

His mind was elated! She feared him! In that moment, after ten thousand years, he finally had caught up to her, had reached her before she could slip away again! She stood rooted to the spot, unable to comprehend how he could be there, how after all of the centuries the two could meet again. What fate could be so cruel?

And yet it was destined to be. He had discovered that she lived. He'd found the tower where she must have sheltered for all that time, and the traces of her magic. How could he not know? How could he not taste that precious flavor that all of her spells had on them? He had known it oh so well, had pined to claim it. And now it would be his.

Her fear made him laugh as he passed the last few feet towards her.

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He'd found her again. She'd run to them, just as he predicted. He'd managed to gather others of his kind, other newly created Satyr to help him subdue her. She would join them and would not be given the chance to refuse their offer. She was too stupid to understand what it was they would give her, what she could become. She would be his, and together they would produce a powerful legion of their offspring, her magic combined with his and the two ruling over a minor kingdom of demonkind. He laughed aloud at the thought, his hooves clacking against the stones as he rushed towards her and her two friends.

It was not to be though. Her bitch of a friend Tyavel reached out her hand, throwing out a spell. The air shimmered around the elves, and a portal opened. He barked a command and one of his Satyr leapt at the elves, knocking them aside. Behind them battle erupted as some of the Highborne betrayed their Queen, fighting with the demons of her legions. Tyavel was knocked down and with a desperate spell whisked herself across the courtyard, darting behind a wall.

Tyavel didn't matter. He didn't care about her, or the other foolish elf Eldre'nor. He wanted her, the object of his desire.

Even as he watched though, she grabbed Eldre'nor, holding her tight. With one last look at him, at his legions and at the flames rising up in their once beautiful city she stepped forward, pulling Eldre'nor into the portal with her. The air shimmered and they vanished, gone forever. He had failed.

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He was expecting her to use magic of course, and so using his own natural power as a Satyr he had warded himself carefully, confident that her spells would never overcome him. She had always been a poor student, had always been incapable of learning spells of sufficient power, and now she had no one here to protect her. She would finally be his after all this time.

Predictably her hand came up, her palm extended towards him. He smirked as she shouted a word, as the arcane energy built in the air around her hand and flew towards him. The smirk stayed on his face as it struck the wards around him, but it faded an instant later as it pierced his wards, slamming into and then through his chest and throwing him to the ground. His demon blood pumped out of his ruined form, coating the ground around him with its cursed essence.

Malandrae Moonwhisper stepped closer, looking down on the Satyr with an expression of pity. "I told you before, I am not yours. I don't care how many centuries go by, how many eons that must pass, I will never accept your 'gift'. Look at what you are, what you've become. Maybe I am not smart enough to appreciate what you were offering then, but I think that's not the case. I think that I made the right choice then. It may have been the smartest thing I've ever done, the one thing I am most proud of."

She sighed, shaking her head and stepping away from the dying Satyr. As his blood flowed and he began to feel himself slipping away to be banished from Azeroth with his death, his last sight was of her pale ankle, stepping out of view, her heel digging into the soft earth of the ruins.

He had failed again. Forever.