Erasing the Past

It was never entirely dark in Silvermoon City. Even in the deepest part of the night, magical lights glowed along most of the streets and illuminated runes directed travelers amongst the splendor of red and gold. It made it difficult for one to slip unnoticed through the streets, and even more difficult when one was doing something that technically could get a person in a lot of trouble. There were times when it was best not to be observed while you were undertaking an important task.

All of these thoughts were in the back of Balarae's mind as she made her way into the center of the restored portions of the city, her steps taking her up the broad walkway that lead into the Sunfury Spire. Dressed as she always was and appearing as any other spellcaster in the city, the guards paid Balarae little mind as the entered the spire proper. It was, after all, not unusual for Magisters to send their apprentices or associates to the spire at all hours of the day to consult with the Magistrate or to relay messages.

Once past the guards, Balarae relaxed somewhat, her pace slowing as she navigated the complex series of corridors within the spire itself. Although she had been there many times in the past, quite a few years had passed since those days and she found it difficult to remember the way. In the end, her hesitancy and apparent confusion would lend itself well to the image of an apprentice sent to perform some duty for her master. Balarae smiled at the thought as she turned another blind corridor; she had not even conversed with her brethren in the arts since her return to the city other than to volunteer for a few minor tasks in Eversong and later the Ghostlands. She preferred to keep a low profile until she could determine how best to apply her skills, and that is what she was going to do.

Her thoughts quickly shifted to the task at hand as she turned one final corner and came up to a decorative door in the passageway. The elf paused, her head tilted to listen for the sound of anyone coming from either direction in the hall or for sounds beyond the door. She stayed motionless for a few moments, not even a stand of platinum blonde hair moving as she concentrated. Finally, convinced that she was truly alone, she murmured the words to a spell; a spell that was far beyond the skill of the simple apprentice that she appeared to be.

Magic hummed in the air for a moment before the door in front of her glowed in response. With a soft sigh a latch clicked as the lock disengaged and the wards on the door fell silent. Balarae had activated those wards many times in the past, and she knew exactly what she was doing as she slipped into the room. Beyond the door was a small chamber that was filled from wall to wall with shelving that reached to the ceiling. Books, scrolls, manuscripts, and other items were neatly stacked and organized within the room. There were thousands of such objects; enough for a person to spend months looking for something. Balarae had come prepared though, and again murmured the words to a spell. A small orb of magic flashed into existence in front of her, slowly drifting across the room and hovering before a specific set of papers. Without hesitating, Balarae hurried to the shelf, scooping the papers up. She gave them a brief glance, easily recognizing her own writing on the papers.

She slipped the entire stack into one of her pouches and then extinguished her magical orb. With one last glance at the huge magical archive she hurried from the chamber, resealing the door and retracing her steps from the spire. Despite her anxiety, she forced herself to walk casually out of the spire and into the city before mounting her hawkstrider and riding out the Shepard's Gate. It would not be until she was out of Silvermoon City that she would relax, breathing a sigh of relief.

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

Hours later Balarae sat in front of a small camp fire in Eversong Woods. She threw some wood on the fire until it was of a decent size and then withdrew the papers from the pouch. She stared at them for a time, her own handwriting on the pages a haunting reminder of what she had become, of the things she had done with her life. Each word, each penned letter on each of the hundreds of pages was like a screaming condemnation in her mind. Slowly she took the first of the pages in her hand and gently laid it down in the fire. Her blue-green eyes would occasionally catch a brief glimpse of the writing as the parchment curled and blackened in the flames, and her own voice echoed the words in her mind.

"We must remain true to our cause here. We cannot allow the risks to make us fearful and hold us back."
"If we are to be reborn as a people, our work here must proceed. We need to obtain new sources of power as the Prince ordered. His orders were clear and we need more resources to ensure that we can carry them out."
"Initial tests have shown great energy potential. I am fascinated by the results and plan to further this line of work."
"Demonic energies can be used as the focal point for the energy source if needed. As it is, we will need to obtain some stronger materials for the weapon housing if it is to be effective and easily deployed. I would suggest fel iron."
"We lost several of our warlocks to the thirst today. Their sacrifice will be remembered when this project is done. We must push forward, no matter the cost. Our Prince is counting on us. The salvation of Quel'Thalas is all that matters now."

The words echoed in her mind as page after page was consumed by the fire. Balarae shook her head and sighed as she watched the pages burning. Each of the letters had been sent to the Magistrate or to the commanders of Firewing Point as the project there had moved forward. Balarae's reports were not the only ones from that venture of course, but they were a vital link to who and what she was and had already been perused by others. If she wanted to change the future, it had to start by erasing the past and starting anew. It was the only way.

With a sigh, Balarae took up the entire stack of papers and hurled them at once into the flames, no longer desiring to read them. She stood, turning her back to the fueled fire and simply watching the embers drift into the air; the ashes of her past blowing away on the wind. The physical remains of who and what she had been could be destroyed easily; it would be another matter for her to bring peace to her own mind.

In the flames behind her, one last letter began to blacken and curl atop the flaming pile, the last words slowly being consumed by the fire...

"....ninety percent effective. We have completed all of the initial testing, and access codes have been provided only to the individuals selected during our first trial phase. Our warlocks report that the device is relatively stable at this point, and that the results can be easily reproduced on a larger scale in the future. 

As you have ordered, I have prepared our magic to energize the device for our first trial run. I anticipate that the weapon will be prepared in twenty-four hours at the latest. I will compile a complete report of the results of the test trial. We await instructions on where to deploy the Mana Bomb for testing.

In the name of Kael'Thas Sunstrider, I remain your humble servant.
Magistrix Balarae Sunhaven
Sub-Commander of Research and Development, Firewing Point"