The Sigil

The small fire crackled as Tylirel threw one last branch on it, letting it heat the dell in which she sheltered. She'd spent a few days in the forests of Eversong, simply thinking about the things she'd come to realize while watching the pirates fight. Memories drifted through her mind; her many kills, her adventures at sea and the years of deprivation she'd suffered as a slave. All of these things made up a little piece of her, a bit of a puzzle that was the soul of a Sin'dorei assassin.

As she settled down near the fire, she pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, huddling down. Assassin. Is that all that she was now? All that the future could possibly hold? After all of the lives she'd taken, did any of it mean anything anymore? The idea of a few days ago had been a startling revelation. To apply her skills to a different course, to take lives not for pay or the desires of some noble but for a just cause, was very appealing after the decades she'd spent serving the spoiled upper crust of Silvermoon.

Once upon a time she'd dreamed of a better future for her people. As she watched the fire crackle, her gaze roamed to an object that was placed in the very center of the small blaze. A metal chain, almost red now from the heat, ran from the object and lay across the ground near her feet. The object within the flames represented that dream, the dream that Kael'thas had given them all for a time. All she had to show for it now was her fel green eyes and the sigil-enscribed golden disc lying in the heart of the fire.

As Kael'thas had brought her dreams to life, he had also shattered them with his underlying betrayal. It had made Tylirel what she was today; a violent assassin fit only to take the lives of her foes. For the longest time, she could recall caring for nothing but the next assignment, obeying nothing but the commands of Biara Dayfire when HER dream had come to replace the one that Kael'thas had torn away with his treachery.

She would dream another's dream no more.

She carefully unfolded her arms, removing her leather bracers and placing them on the ground beside her. With a spare piece of leather that she used while cleaning her daggers, she yanked the chain that was connected to Kael'thas' sigil, and pulled the glowing golden disc from the flames. Her eyes took in the red-hot sun emblem that the disc contained on one side; the image rising above the flat of the disc. With the metal so hot, the sun looked as if it were real, the heat dancing across it's surface.

"Belore" she whispered, before quickly pressing her right arm down on the disc. The flesh of her wrist came into contact with the searing hot sigil, the magical artifact burning her with its heat.

The sun. The sacred and ancient symbol of her people. A symbol of hope and power. The perfect thing to describe the wild thoughts her heart had given her over the past few days. A new sun would dawn. She would see to it. A new purpose would be given to her lost people.

She lifted her arm up, the pain of the burn giving her a rush of excitement. Burned into her flesh of her wrist was a perfect emblem of a sun, the magic of the disc having turned the wound black. She felt elated at the sight.

The Sigil of the Dawning Sun had been born.