Rifts and Healing

Faleseth sighed, stretching her back and bringing her arms up over her head to get some of the aches out of her shoulders. She had slept fitfully that day, both from the events of the previous day and the pondering that came with them as well as from the fact that she had been sleeping on a park bench on the outskirts of Darnassus. She had no home, no coin, and none of the comforts that she was accustomed to. Going from the plush life of a Highborne to the part of a forgotten relic of the past was difficult at best to adjust to.

She began to walk as the sun crept towards dusk, having slept most of the day away. Unlike 'modern' Kaldorei, she would likely never be comfortable with being awake in the daylight hours, and it was difficult for her to even begin to take in all of the ways the Night Elves had changed while she was imprisoned. She resolved to begin anew, to find a way to re-establish the lifestyle that she was comfortable with or to at least obtain an acceptable living space.

To do this, she knew she'd need resources or something of value. She had only her Faith and knowledge that was centuries out of date. It seemed a hopeless task until she realized that her knowledge would be the key to realizing this goal. She knew first hand where a cache of magical Highborne artifacts were kept as her personal items and those of the other prisoners and criminals the Highborne had either sealed away or executed likely still existed near where she had been imprisoned. It would be a trek but she could revisit the location and liberate some of these items, selling what would likely now be rare collectibles in exchange for coin.

The other Highborne would hate it of course. Faleseth had seen them, walking through Darnassus in little groups, keeping themselves distant from the other Kaldorei and having a general air of superiority about them. Their opinion meant nothing to her, for in her eyes they were the dregs of society as much as the druids that now apparently ruled. They had either betrayed or failed their Queen, and their loyalty and courage was questionable. The fact that there was no Queen now had little impact on Faleseth's first impressions and she had already decided to plot her own course.

Before she could do any of this however, Faleseth needed to reconnect with Elune. The events of the previous day had shown her that the Goddess had not forgotten her lost daughter, and her divine magic was slowly trickling back to her. It was a positive sign, and possibly the only positive thing she had to cling to in her gloomy thoughts. With this in mind, she steered her course away from Darnassus, walking into the forests of Teldrassil with a singular goal in mind.

It didn't take her long to find one of the moonwells. They were fonts of magic, their waters connected to the most ancient of magics that Faleseth's own people had once used. That they were now sources of druidic power and places of peaceful meditation were curious facts that the priestess noted only distantly as she approached the glowing waters. She had her own purpose, her own need to make use of the sacred place. She looked around, ensuring that the forest was quiet and waiting as the darkness of night fell before proceeding.

The first thing she did was remove her clothing. She took everything off, from her designer boots to her golden jewelry to the expensive dress and undergarments she wore, laying them in a neat pile on the stones beside the moonwell. Fully divested of her clothing, she dipped her toes into the glowing water, testing the warmth of the liquid and finding it to be cool and refreshing in the summer's heat. With a nod to herself, she stepped into the well, walking carefully so as not to splash the water from the sacred space and standing in the knee-high water in the center of the pool.

Faleseth sank to her knees once she was in the precise center of the water, letting the liquid surround her as she closed her eyes and began to sing. Her voice flowed out into the forest, the words not music but an ancient prayer to her Goddess and one she had not been able to voice for centuries while trapped in her prison. Immediately moonlight began to shine down on the pool, the glowing water around her sparkling as if the well itself were the source of the light. Drops of moisture on Faleseth's skin reflected the light away, leaving glittering reflections in the forest around her.

As Faleseth sang, she changed the tone and pitch of her song, the prayer becoming one that she had practiced for over a thousand years. It was not one she had learned in the temple though, but rather her own private communion with the Goddess. Long ago when the Highborne ruled, many had not understood Faleseth's special connection with her Faith and she had been something of an outcast and fringe witch amongst Elune's priestesses. That fact became obvious as the light in the pool began to darken, swirls of shadowy purple energy flowing from the Kaldorei and slowly covering the surface of the water. To someone observing, the moonwell began to resemble a moon that was being eclipsed, the dark eclipsed moon all around the praying elf.

Faleseth revered the New Moon, the Eclipsed Moon. Elune had many facets, and just as the moon brought light to the night, the New Moon still watched over the land even in darkness. And so Faleseth's faith was in that darkness, and many who revered the light that Elune brought failed to understand how important the cycles of the moon were and believed she dabbled in evil magic. In her own time she had often worshiped alone as she did now, deep in the forest in the night where others would not interrupt her vigil. She would commune with her Goddess in the way that she felt most proper, and if others called her a witch and shunned her gifts, then so be it.

Power ran through her body, and Faleseth felt a moment of peace as she connected deeply with her Faith. The worship of Elune brought serenity, and it was that sanctuary that she most needed in this hour of desperate need. She sighed, her prayer and song trailing off as a feeling of contentment settled into her, finally putting her fear, sorrow and anxiety to rest if only for a moment.

Sadly, that moment was to be very brief indeed as two hands clamped onto her shoulders and she was violently yanked backwards. Her silver eyes popped open wide in shock as she was lifted from the waters of the well, her bare feet kicking at thin air. She felt herself being whirled around and was set roughly on the ground, two druids standing there glaring at her and a third keeping her arms tightly clamped against her body.

The fact that she was naked didn't bother her a bit as she met the gaze of what must have been the group's leader. No armor, no weapon, and no spell was more powerful than her Faith. As long as it was within her she was clothed, her body protected better than plate and her weapons stronger than the sharpest blade. She said nothing as the other druid continued to stare at her in anger.

"You. You dare to enter our forests and defile our well?" he said, his voice menacing.

The druid standing next to him moved, and Faleseth watched silently from the corner of her eye as he rummaged through her clothing left next to the well. After a moment he stiffened, backing away from the garments and turning with a sneer on his face, "She's a Highborne. She has arcane items amongst her things."

The leader of the druids took a step closer, his face inches from Faleseth's, "You will explain what vile taint you were casting over our well Highborne. Explain to me why you should not be executed for the crime of using magic in our domain."

Behind the group the waters of the well had begun to clear, the darkness of Faleseth's worship fading into the moonlight once more. Faleseth merely stared at the druid, saying nothing, her face impassive as the hands holding her in place clamped down painfully on her arms, as if they were trying to force her to speak.

"You believe we are jesting perhaps? You and the other Highborne are not to use magic in our sacred places. The punishment is severe indeed," the druid said, circling her. To his credit he didn't once glance down at her nakedness, despite the fact that she appeared to be in the prime of her life. His voice carried over her shoulder as he studied her things laying beside the well, "You WILL answer to me, or the punishment shall be carried out immediately."

He returned to his original position, standing in front of her and glaring. Nature magic began to build around him, as if to emphasize the threat. Faleseth merely continued to stare. Nothing she said would explain it to his satisfaction, and she was too tired and too distraught to defend herself verbally. She also knew that Elune would not grant her the magic to strike down other Kaldorei, not near a sacred font, and not after she had just finished praying. There were certain lines that even the darkness of her powers could not cross.

He stepped closer, looking almost pleased by her lack of answer, "So be it. If you will not answer, then you will face the consequences of your actions. I sentence you for the cri-"

He was cut off by the cawing of a raven. The sound burst from the nearby forest, unnaturally loud and unexpected in the night. The druid paused, tilting his head to the side and making eye contact with one of the others, who nodded. The sound came again, closer this time, followed by the cawing of another raven.

The group turned, and although Faleseth remained still she could see one of the birds in the trees around them. It was unnatural, made of shadow and night, sitting on a branch and watching her and only her. Her gaze roamed over the tree, seeing a second of the birds, and then a third.

The druids saw them too, and murmured amongst themselves. The leader of the group turned, studying her as if in a new light. "Such creatures do not gather in this place and are an ill omen. And yet....those who use the arcane do not call animals by their sides. Explain this."

Faleseth remained silent, refusing to answer his questions. He had no RIGHT to question her; he was thousands of years her junior. She bit her lip, studying the birds in the treetops. Her lack of answer angered the druid anew, and he stepped towards her, raising a hand as if to strike her.

The forest around them errupted in pandemonium. Ravens cawed from every tree, from every bush around them. Dozens and then hundreds of them, all made of shadows, all screeching as many took flight and circled them. The druids looked up in shock, watching the creatures circle overhead.

The leader of the group lowered his hand, nodding to the druid holding her. She felt the hands clamped on her arms release her, and she reached up to rub her numb skin in surprise. She tilted her head as if in question and the druid stared her down. "There is more to you than meets the eye. You are unlike the others. I am unsure what your connection is with nature or the well, but it would be...hasty...to slay you without understanding first. You will leave this place and will not return. We will be observing you closely."

Faleseth nodded once, turning without a word and walking between them. She kept her strides as dignified as possible for a person who was completely nude and a captive only a moment before. She quickly gathered her things, not bothering to don any of her garments before turning and striding from the moonwell's clearing.

The druids watched her go with some hostility, murmuring amongst themselves again and debating what the birds might have meant. It was only when she was out of sight that they realized that all of the ravens were gone, as if they had never been there. It was a mystery they would spend many hours attempting to unravel, with little resolution in the end.

Spiritual Guidance

The sun shone down on Darnassus, the warmth of summer in the air and the sounds of animals in the forested areas just outside the city mixing with the sounds of people going about their daily business. Malandrae Moonwhisper smiled happily to herself, walking through the outskirts of the city, a toy ball cradled in her arm and wrapped with a ribbon. It was a gift for Corrienda's boy; just a little something that the Highborne thought he'd enjoy. It had been a long time since she'd stopped by to visit and she wanted to surprise her friend with a quick hello.

As she neared the section of the city where Corrienda lived, Malandrae sighed happily, pausing to take in a deep breath of the summer air. What could be better than being alive in this time and place? What was more important than sharing a moment of friendship and enjoying a beautiful summer day? Nothing as far as she was concerned! With a lightness in her stride she resumed her walking, heading towards a ramp that would lead to the upper stories of the building where Corrienda's house was located.

In her happy moment of unconcerned enjoyment of the day, Malandrae never noticed the faint glow that began to emanate from the triple moon necklace she wore around her neck. Despite her wards and skills, she didn't detect the hum of arcane energy that was beginning to build there, a spell specifically designed to escape her notice and beginning to build with fatal, explosive magical energies.

With a smile on her face, Malandrae placed a foot on the walkway leading to Corrienda's door...

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

Faleseth Featherwind stood in the center of Darnassus, her robes gathered about her and a cowl partially concealing her face. All around her the people of the city went about their business, enjoying the day and speaking lightly to one another. Although they were Kaldorei and similar to her, she felt as distant from them as if they were ghosts and she the only thing living. There was a deep underlying gloom that smothered her thoughts and made it difficult to decide what she should do or if she should even bother going on.

Ever since her awakening several weeks ago she had struggled to come to terms with her situation. Her nation, the mighty empire that the Night Elves have carved from the wilderness and that had existed for untold eons was gone. The Queen whom she had adored and who had ultimately punished her so cruelly was no more, and would never again restore either her punishment or her birthright as a Highborne. Faleseth felt as if she were cast out into a raging sea, with nothing familiar around her and nothing to grasp hold of. She was like a puzzle piece with no space to fit, and despite her intellect it was all she could do to just stand in the center of Darnassus, attempting to understand the new world in which she found herself.

The other Kaldorei were not like her. Even the other Highborne were as foreign to her as the creatures she had first encountered that she now understood were called 'orcs'. She had been loyal to the Queen, had lived her life in a time and place when nothing and no one compared to the might of her people. And now... now she stood alone, in a city of strangers whose words she could barely understand, bereft of everything.

She would cry, if there were tears left in her. If there were any bit of her soul that had not endured century after century of agonizing punishment and lonely imprisonment. She had been wrung dry of such emotions, and now had only the gloom and the last flickering bits of her magic and her faith in the Goddess. As she stood silently, her mouth soundlessly spoke the words that echoed through her mind, "Elune...why? Why am I here? Why did you even spare me?"

She didn't expect an answer. The Gods didn't work in such a fashion, and any who said otherwise were either worshiping some vile power or deluded. And yet... in that part of her mind where her Faith resided, in the little spark of Faleseth's spirit that remembered the New Moon, something urged her to turn her head, to look and SEE the signs.

And so the Highborne did turn. She tilted her head and looked across the city of a people who were not her people, and her silver eyes widened in shock. There, along the edge of the city was a glowing moon, shining as bright as it would at night. And yet it couldn't be there, for not a single other person glanced at it or gave any hint that they noticed it. Even as Faleseth watched, it began to slowly darken, its edge growing black as if it were being eclipsed. A sense of urgency began to flow through her, and she took a few steps towards it.

Go. Go now! Before it's too late! 

The words were unspoken, but Faleseth knew that they were true. She could feel it deep within, a sense of purpose that she'd been lacking. The Moon called to her, and as she had done for countless centuries she would heed that call. She began to hurry towards the darkening sign, passing through the city. As she watched the moon starting to eclipse the sense of urgency increased, and Faleseth found herself running, her lean form slipping between the other Kaldorei as she picked up speed. Elves glared at her as she pushed them aside, some shaking a fist at her or muttering complaints.

Ahead a group of Kaldorei had gathered to chat near the local bazaar, but Faleseth could see the Moon was half eclipsed now, and that she was running out of time. She recklessly dove into the crowd, shoving people out of the way, her robes trailing behind her and a string of curses in Darnassian chasing her through the spaces between the dwellings.

She burst around a corner, seeing the glimmer of the fading Moon on a walkway ahead of her, and she ran towards it without hesitation, her high heeled boots pounding on the wood as she hurried up. She reached the top and skidded to a halt, the Moon she had been following fully eclipsing and fading to nothing. But that was not what made her draw in a gasp. It was not what made her reel back as if she'd been slapped.

The elf ahead of her, the elf with the high pigtails on her head. That cyan hair bouncing as she walked. The way her hips swayed, the colors she had chosen to wear. All if it slammed into Faleseth like a punch to the gut, memories of that elf flowing through her, even as pale moonlight seemed to bathe the Highborne, seemed to confirm to Faleseth that this was her purpose for the moment, that this is what the Goddess had intended.

And then she noticed the spell.

How could she not? How would she possibly forget the magic of the one Highborne whom she hated above all others? How many times did Faleseth see Viala Moonwhisper cast such a spell, either in practice or for sport with her slaves? How often did she hear the venomous sound of the voice of Malandrae Moonwhisper's mother flow musically on the air as she casually formed the forces of destruction to do her bidding? How could she forget the one voice that spoke the last words Faleseth would ever hear, damning her to an eternity of horrific imprisonment at Azshara's whim, all because of the filthy lies she told?

For eons Faleseth had slept in stasis, banished from the realm, from her birthright, for a crime that she never committed. All because of the elf who now apparently sought to destroy her daughter for reasons that Faleseth neither understood nor cared about. Although Faleseth cared not a bit for the airheaded Malandrae Moonwhisper, she cared VERY much about making Viala as unhappy as possible. The questions as to why she would want Malandrae dead or how either of those Highborne still existed were irrelevant in the face of Faleseth's hatred and the fact that her Goddess had lead her here to this moment.

Shadows burst into life around Faleseth, the darkness of the New Moon coming to her as if her powers had never waned. A raven landed on her shoulder, the bird silently watching as Faleseth reached out a hand, almost casually plucking the magic from Malandrae's necklace from a distance and depositing it in her own palm. The spell glowed fitfully there, and Faleseth smiled as she understood that Viala had a scrying spell included amongst the other devastating magic; she always did like to see her handiwork.

"And so you will come to learn the pain that I have felt for all these centuries dear Viala," she purred at the spell in her palm. "He loved me before he ever loved you, and he was mine before he was yours. If you think I will ever forget, ever FORGIVE you for what you did, you are mistaken. See now as your works are undone, and know that you will NEVER have what you want ever again for as long as I draw breath. Suffer wretch, suffer and scream in anger you stupid little bitch."

House Moonwhisper had always had extremely gifted sorcerers. The spell that had been used was powerful indeed, and not one that any but a Highborne would have recognized. For all of its power though, House Moonwhisper never had Elune's favor, never had a priestess with the power to guide them.

They had never contended with a witch of the New Moon.

Faleseth grinned, her palm closing as her divine magic snuffed out the spell, the energies disappating harmlessly into the air. She paused for a moment, studying Malandrae Moonwhisper as the other Highborne continued along her way, completely unaware that her life had just been saved.

As if Faleseth had called out, Malandrae paused, her head tilting. She slowly turned, but by then Faleseth was gone, her shadows fading, her power flying away on the wings of a raven that cawed softly above them. Seeing nothing, Malandrae shrugged, turning and continuing on her way to Corrienda's house.

From the shadows of a nearby building, Faleseth watched her go, silver eyes glowing beneath her cowl, her thoughts circling around what Elune had brought her to do, and why. There would be many nights of quiet contemplation after this.
 

Rude Awakening

The sounds of combat echoed through the hollow chambers of the barrow den, steel clashing on steel mixed with cries of triumph or defeat. Beneath the earth the sounds were eerily distorted, making it difficult to determine if a battle was taking place around the next bend in the tunnels or in a distant part of the caverns.

Throughout the barrow were the resting places where druids once maintained their vigil over the Emerald Dream. Cruelly severed from their slumber when the Forsaken used plagues in this part of Ashenvale, some of the spirits still roamed the halls as angry spirits. For the Sentinels who struggled to carry one of their wounded comrades through the long dark tunnels, the spirits of their brethren were not as pressing a concern as the heavy footsteps of orcs in fast pursuit behind them.

"Turn left here!" Alaya shouted. As the leader of the Sentinels it had been her task to get the scouting party close to a nearby Horde lumber camp, but they had been ambushed long before their destination and she now questioned whether any of them would escape alive. Besides herself, she had only three other Sentinels in any sort of fighting condition, with a third carried between them, her leg pierced by a lucky sword thrust. "We have to find a chamber with a narrow opening so we can hold their greater numbers!"

Already despairing, Alaya's heart sank as she and her sister Sentinels rounded a bend deep within the barrow and found their way blocked by an ancient stone wall. Eons old, the chipped marble must have been part of a larger Highborne structure that was long since buried beneath the soil. The barrow tunnels had partially broken into the space the wall occupied, and the cold stone spelled an end to their progress. It was clear that there would be no escape this way, and with the orcs pursuing them it seemed the chase was up.

"Quickly, set Salana down and ready your weapons!" Alaya barked. Her Sentinels responded quickly, knowing they had little chance against the swarm of orcs that were about to flood the small space. The wounded Sentinel was gingerly lowered against the wall, her blood smearing the ancient surface as they eased her to the ground. After ensuring that she was at least upright, the others grabbed their weapons, preparing themselves for the end.

Just before the orcs came into sight, a strange thing happened. The purple blood smeared against the ancient stone wall had begun to run down the smooth surface, gathering in shallow indentations that might once have been carvings. As if by design, the carvings flared into fitful light, a bright blue glow of magic appearing across the surface of the wall. The Sentinels watched in awe as the glow spread, outlining runes and then a small archway on the stone surface. The glowing arch shimmered and then faded, the stone disappearing as if it had never been.

Beyond the arch was a lighted stone chamber, and Alaya immediately took stock of their options. Certainly forcing the orcs through the narrow doorway would prove a superior defensive position. Quickly she nodded to the other Sentinels and the Kaldorei filed through, dragging their wounded companion with them. Beyond the arch the elves found themselves in a circular chamber, the center dominated by a large marble slab with a figure resting upon it. Magical torches lit the interior of the chamber and runes were carved on every surface of the stone walls.

Alaya paused, her eyes wide in awe as she surveyed the room. Gently she rang slender fingers along the runes, reading the ancient elven script with some degree of difficulty. The words carved into the stone were not flattering and would, at best, be considered unflattering. She saw runes representing the words 'traitor', 'whore', 'criminal', and many other variations of these themes upon the marble. Slowly she turned, her eyes drawn to the stone slab and the figure upon it.

It was the body of a Highborne elf, the lifeless figure laying with her arms crossed upon her chest. She wore an elegant dress that was embroidered with threads made of precious metals, and a wealth of jewels decorated her fingers, wrists, ears, and even her ankles. Although the body was likely tens of thousands of years old, the moonlight pale skin and light blue hair of the reposed elf were not touched by decay or rot, and there was no hint other than the lack of breath that the Highborne was not merely sleeping.

Behind the stone slab upon which the Highborne lay stood a floor length mirror, its polished surface completely coated in dust and the golden frame that held it upright glittering fitfully in the flickering blue glow of the magical lights in the chamber. Atop the mirror's frame was an emblem of a feather cradled by the moon. In the dulled glass Alaya could almost see the reflection of an elf; perhaps one of her Sentinels who had caught the light just right.

Alaya shook her head, trying to put her curiosity at rest as she nodded to the other Sentinels, preparing herself for battle. She could feel a chill up her spine as she prepared her bow, as if something was with her. The chamber thoroughly unnerved her, as most Highborne relics did. She could swear something was watching her, and out of the corner of her eye she would catch shadowy movement, even though nothing was there when she looked. She shook her head again, taking aim at the doorway.

They came seconds later, the orcs barreling through the opening with their weapons held high. The first two died to arrows before ever making it into the chamber, the next making it only a foot past the doorway. Firing rapidly, the three combat worthy Sentinels used their bows until the last moment, only taking up glaives as the orcs closed with them. Again steel rang against steel as the combatants locked in deadly combat, the chamber instantly turned into a battleground.

Alaya found herself dodging and slashing, desperately attempting to put down the attackers even as she struggled not to be overwhelmed by their numbers in the narrow confines of the chamber. Even as she fought the unnerving feeling of something watching her continued to grow, and she could swear that she saw a bird flutter from the top of one of the glowing magical lanterns to another.

Behind her a Sentinel cried out as she was cut down, the savage roar of an orc's warcry drowning out the sound. Alaya whirled, narrowly parrying a blade directed at her back and receiving a slash to her leg from the first attacker. She cried out, falling back and taking another blow to the side. Across the chamber she saw another of her Sentinels cut down by an ax, even as the last of them ducked behind the gilded mirror. Alaya rolled across the floor, her blood spilling from her wounds as an orc jumped up on the marble slab, straddling the Highborne's body and glaring down at her.

Behind the orc one of the other attackers hurled a hand ax at the Sentinel who was sheltering behind the mirror. She ducked back and the weapon struck the glass, shattering it into a thousand glimmering shards. Throughout the chamber the tension in the air seemed to fade, and Alaya could swear she heard a sigh of relief, as if the chamber itself was finally at rest. She watched in horror as a second thrown ax took down her last Sentinel, knowing that she had failed those under her command and that she was about to die herself. The orc on the slab grinned down at her, holding an ax high above his head.

And then one of the Highborne's hands grabbed his ankle.

The orc looked down in utter shock, the surprise on his face turning to horror as he saw something that was out of Alaya's line of view. His hands trembled and his ax fell from nerveless fingers as he stiffened on the stone slab. Alaya watched in shock as his skin faded to a pale gray, the flesh rotting off and the bones sticking through. Lifelessly the orc tumbled to the ground as cloth stirred on the slab above her. She felt her heart skip a beat as the Highborne sat upright, the elf's eyes blazing with dark magics.

One of the attacking orcs acted quickly, raising a spear and hurling it at the elf on the slab. Alaya watched the weapon pierce the space where the Highborne was sitting, but instead of steel striking flesh as she suspected, the form of the Highborne burst into a thousand shadowy ravens, the birds flapping and cawing as they scattered into the air and flew erratically around the room. The orcs stared at the flock with their mouths agape, several ducking to avoid flapping wings or talons as one by one the lanterns in the room began to be extinguished by the riled birds.

Alaya felt a thrill of fear pass through her as the room gradually dimmed into pitch black, the cawing of ravens replaced with the screams of orcs as something began to kill them in the dark, using terror and bursts of magic to cut them down. She heard armored forms hitting the ground and the sounds of weapons striking stone as orcs flailed blindly in an attempt to slay their attackers.

Gradually the sounds diminished, the last orc letting out a chilling death rattle before the thud of his corpse striking the ground could be heard. Alaya curled up in a ball, hugging her knees to her chest and trying to staunch some of her wounds as she could. She could barely see in the gloom, but the form of a Kaldorei clearly stood upon the slab now, as if surveying the area.

The lanterns rekindled instantly, the light blazing up and forcing Alaya to shield her eyes. For a moment she blinked through tears before she saw the Highborne standing over her, staring down at her with a predatory look in her eyes.

"We must hurry, the Queen will know you've breached the wards," the voice was melodic, the tone betraying little urgency despite the words. "I've no idea what sort of creatures these are, but it is fortunate that I was able to awaken the dregs of my power. I doubt I could do so again so quickly."

Alaya blinked, shaking her head, "Q-queen..? What...you mean...n-no, no. There is no Queen now. The Queen is gone. I don't know how long you've been sleeping here, but there is no Queen."

The Highborne reeled back, looking at Alaya as if she'd been slapped. "You come here, to one of Her prison cells, and dare to speak such treason? You are fortunate that none of Her guardians are here to witness this, lest a far worse punishment befall you. Who are you, that you would dare to gainsay me?"

"I-I'm Alaya. I'm a Sentinel of Darnassus and these are orcs. There are many more of them in the chambers above this one and we need to work together to get out of here al-"

Her words were cut off by a gesture from the Highborne, "Nonesense! Such creatures cannot have invaded the entirety of Her domain. She would know of it and they would be crushed. Do you have any idea of who I am, of who you are lying to? I am Lady Faleseth Featherwind of House Featherwind, Courtier of the Queen's Court. You will cease your falsehoods at once!"

Alaya shook her head, "No. There is no Queen. There has been no Queen for thousands of years. You need to listen to me before they c-"

This time Alaya's words were cut off by a stinging pain in her temples. The pressure began to build, feeling like her skull was going to cave in. She gasped, her eyes tearing as the Highborne glared down at her, shadowy magic at her fingertips.

"If you will not speak the truth, then I shall TAKE the truth," Faleseth growled menacingly. She focused, increasing the power of the spell and piercing the other elf's mind, ignoring the blood that began to run for Alaya's nose.

"I s-see....yes....there it is...the truth will be exposed shortly..." Faleseth murmured. After a moment her eyes widened in horror and she gasped, releasing the spell. The Sentinel's lifeless body crumpled to the ground next to the marble slab where the Highborne had slumbered for not several hundred years as would have been her punishment, but century upon century.

"I-it can't be....it can't be...." she said softly, the room quiet now. After a moment she looked around, studying the dead and shaking her head. After having seen the inside of the chamber for an endless eternity, it was far past time that she left. It seemed that things had changed drastically since she had been punished, and that the world very well might have no Queen now.

Whatever time it was, whatever this place was now, it seemed Faleseth had a new opportunity, the gift of a new life. Her painted lips curled into a smile and she lightly stepped over the corpses in the room, heading for the exit.

It was time to see what this new world had to offer.

Sunfire, Glorious Sunfire!

Her heart skipped a beat, or at least it felt that way. It was a dull thud in her chest, the sound pulsing in her long ears. Above her she could see the blue skies over the Barrens, the smoke from the nearby burning wagons drifting lazily into the air currents above, the embers glittering like stars that were trying to come out during the day.

It hurt. It always hurt when it happened, but it was to be expected. A Magistrix that goes to war should expect to be wounded. Even so, the arrow protruding from her shoulder made Biara's vision blur for a moment as she lay on the soft grasses, her head propped against the side of a dead kodo. She reached up to touch the shaft that protruded from her flesh but quickly withdrew her hand as the pain grew tenfold. Her blood ran down her fingertips and she watched it in detached fascination. She was distantly aware of yelling around her, of other Sin'dorei crouched behind the dead pack beasts using them for cover from the hail of arrows that continued to fall amongst them. She could see the burning supply wagons that, until a few moments before the ambush, had been driven by Tauren intent on bringing aid to the troll rebels.

Those Tauren were dead now, their corpses scattered within the center of the circled wagons, arrows protruding from them as one did from Biara herself. Either that or they lay outside the protective circle that the convoy had made, their bodies laying in the grasses where Kor'kron with bows continued to circle, firing into the outnumbered defenders from the backs of their wolves.

An armored form appeared from the swirling smoke, hurrying to Biara's side and hunkering down beside her, pressed against the dead kodo. Kyliska looked at her with concern on her face, her armor streaked with soot from the nearby fires and her blade in hand. She set her weapon down for a moment, reaching out to gently touch the arrow in Biara's shoulder.

"This is going to hurt Biara," she said softly. Her fel green eyes met Biara's and Biara nodded, silently communicating her readiness without words. Her gaze remained locked on Kyliska's freckled face as she steadfastly forced herself not to look.

Kyliska grasped the shaft tightly and with one swift motion pulled the arrow free. Blood spurted as the barb was removed and Biara cried out once despite her resolve. In a moment the weapon was discarded as Kyliska pressed a hand over the bloody wound, Light flowing into her sister and quickly stitching flesh back together. Biara sighed with relief as the wound was mended, nodding her thanks to Kyliska and remaining where she was for a moment, her breath coming hard and fast.

"We're not going to live Kyli," she said in a low tone. There was little need to state it; it was obvious to both sisters that they were outnumbered and that their pinned forces were being whittled down quickly by the harrassing assaults of the wolf riders. "There are too many of them, and we are too few."

"Hush Biara, don't talk like that," Kyliska replied. She looked around the small space that was walled off by dead pack beasts and burning wagons. Within the smoke she counted less than a dozen Sin'dorei from their patrol and maybe a handful of Tauren left from the wagons. Biara's words rang true, but it was in neither of their natures to surrender so easily.

Kyliska reached out, taking her sister's bloody hand in her own, their fingers laced together for a moment as a look of determination fell across her features. "You may be right, but we're not giving up that easily. It's been too long since we've been in a battle like this. We've forgotten our spirit, our heart. What is it that the orcs say, that they made their motto for so long? I can't remember the words."

Biara grinned, squeezing her sister's hand, her blood lubricating their fingers, "I believe you are referring to their warcry, 'lok'tar ogar'. Victory or death."

Kyliska nodded, her own face breaking into a grin. She turned, slipping her fingers from Biara's and searching in the swirling smoke. Spotting what she was seeking, she crawled through the grass, grabbing the end of a long spear and dragging it back. The spear had a banner with House Sunfire's burning sun and crossed blades on the end, and Kyliska held it firmly in one hand, letting the banner fall free.

"Well then, as you've said we're not the traitors here, it is those orcs out there who betrayed what the Horde is supposed to be," Kyliska said firmly. She raised her voice, the sound cutting through the sound of arrows striking dead flesh and the crackle of burning wagons.

"Are we going to let them take that away from us? Are we going to cower here, picked off like dogs while the actual dogs prowl about us, putting an end to everything we've fought for?" Kyliska was almost shouting now, and she reached down to pick up her sword, bringing it up in her other hand. Biara could see the battle rage growing, and she nodded once, gathering her warstaff and preparing herself. Kyliska would charge; it was her nature. No, it was THEIR nature. They would do battle for Quel'Thalas until the very end, regardless of the cost and despite the fear and the odds.

"NO! WE ARE THE TRUE HORDE! IT IS WE WHO REMAIN LOYAL TO THE IDEALS WE FOUGHT FOR!" Kyliska bellowed. The other Sin'dorei looked at her, all of them taking up their weapons now. "LET US SHOW THEM WHO THE TRUE WARRIORS ARE! THE ORCS BELIEVE THEY HAVE WON, THEY BELIEVE WE ARE WEAK AND UNWORTHY! LET US SHOW THEM WHAT WE ARE MADE OF! LET US SHOW THEM WHAT LOK'TAR OGAR TRULY MEANS!"

The other beleagured defenders raised their weapons, roaring at Kyliska as she whirled, snatching up the banner in one hand and her sword flashing in the other. Biara took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself to die before she rose and followed her sister as the blonde elf jumped up and over the dead kodo they'd been sheltering behind. Biara jumped up behind her, her boots hitting the grasses of the barrens and her heart pounding as magic built around her, the other Sin'dorei following bravely.

It was unbelievably dangerous. Arrows flew at them, wolves circled them and axes whirled through the air as wolf riders attempted to slash at them. With Kyliska leading, Biara would remember only brief flashes of the next few moments. She would recall spells flying through the air, cutting wolves out from beneath their riders. She would recall arrows striking Kyliska's plate armor and bouncing off, the same projectiles slamming into the frozen air her magic created as a shield around her. She would recall Kyliska's sword sweeping through the air, cutting a rider from his wolf's saddle and hurling him into the tall grasses by the wayside.

But always that red banner lead them on. Even as Sin'dorei cried out, arrows striking them down Biara saw that blazing sun ahead of her, the tail of the banner rippling in the wind above Kyliska. Even as their charge began to falter it plunged deeper into the thick of battle, always there, always moving forward, heading towards a pack of wolves that stood on a slight rise above the battlefield. Fearlessly it moved, as if it had a life of its own, and Biara kept her gaze focused on it even as she released devastating magic all around her sister to allow her to continue forward.

And then they were there, atop the rise with the orc commander who had orchestrated the ambush. Biara didn't know how long it had taken them; she had no idea how many other Sin'dorei had made it or if she and Kyliska were alone. It didn't matter now, all that mattered was the final battle, the glorious end that she and her sister had always fought for. Blades slashed at them and Kyliska's sword deflected them. Spells rose up from the orc commander's retinue only to be shredded by her counterspells. Orcs were hurled from the hillside as flaming magic detonated amongst them, the very sky raining razor sharp chunks of ice as blinding Light flared from her sister's hands, striking down honor guards.

The critical moment came as the Kor'kron commander brought his ax down on Kyliska, her greatsword coming up to deflect the blow. In horror Biara watched her sister's sword shatter, watched Kyliska's armored form fall backwards with a thousand spinning shards of metal floating in the air around her. She watched the banner fall, landing in the grass beside Kyliska, powerless to help as the orc stood over his victim.

It was rage that ended it, the ultimate weapon in Kyliska's arsenal. The one thing that Biara could never match that Kyliska possessed above all else. The warcry that burst from her lips would have made the largest, most powerful orc warrior proud as Kyliska rose again, her hand taking up the Sunfire banner. It rang across the plains, across the sounds of combat and the explosions of spells. The words stunned the orcs, so used to shouting it themselves and unused to the passion that they contained in that moment.

"LOK'TAR OGAR! VICTORY OR DEATH!"

The banner was on a spear. The spear rose up even as the Kor'kron commander brought his ax up. He was fast and strong, but he wasn't as fast or as strong as an enraged Kyliska. The spear surged forward, striking plate armor and peeling through it as if it were mere cloth. Blood spurted from around the shaft, splashing into the grasses as the Blood Knight plunged the spear as far as she could.

The Kor'kron commander faltered, his ax falling from nerveless fingers as he fell backwards into the grass, the spear rising from his heart like a flagpole, the Sunfire banner rippling atop it and unfurling in the smokey afternoon sun. Biara would remember that moment forever as the colors fluttered in the winds. She would recall the orcs faltering around their fallen commander as Kyliska snatched up his ax from the grass and continued her charge. She would remember using spells to flay the orcs with ice, even as some tried to surrender or flee.

It was all or nothing, victory or death. The Sunfire sisters had seen enough death in their lives, had suffered through enough defeats to understand this. There was no holding back. No mercy or compassion. Only the absolute perfect application of violence and the obliteration of their foes.

Although only a handful of their patrol would survive to speak of the battle in the barrens, for years to come a bloody, soot-stained banner would hang over the dining hall in Sunfire Estate, a chipped, dented ax hanging opposite to remind all who saw these artifacts of the glory of House Sunfire and its Scions.

Rebel Talk

The gavel fell with a loud bang, the sound echoing throughout the marble chamber and bringing murmured conversations to a hush. Set in a giant oval, the chamber featured stadium rows of seats along the two longer sides, polished hardwood desks in front of each seat to give the representatives space to take notes or place personal effects. At one narrow end of the oval space were a row of three desks set lower to the floor, the presiding Magisters directing the flow of the meeting from their impressive high-backed chairs.

"Order! Let us bring the proceedings to order!" one of the Magisters said, waiting until the chamber had fallen completely silent of even the echoes of conversation. "Before we proceed with today's agenda and a review of the doctrines in place for arcane guardian power crystals, we have several speakers who would like to address the Magistrate. Without further delay the floor will now go to our first speaker of the day. Please welcome Magistrix Biara Sunfire, of House Sunfire."

There was a spattering of polite applause as the red-haired Magistrix rose from her place amongst the other assembled magi, slowly making her way down the marble steps to the open space in the center of the floor. She glanced around, her fel-green eyes missing little and noting that applause did NOT drift from the portion of the magi who represented House Dawnsea. She also noted with very little surprise that the seats that would ordinarily be occupied by House Sunhaven magi were empty.

As the Magisters directing the proceedings had done, Biara waited until the applause died and the echoes of the sound became still, her posture straight and her hand clasped together before her as she studied the others who watched her. Unlike many who had attended the day's meeting, Biara had chosen to forgo wearing a fashionable dress or expensive jewelry, instead choosing to wear her combat armor. The blood red robes glittered with a deadly array of wardstones, magical foci, and carefully wrought spells designed to protect the wearer from enemy combatants. As with the wards that sparkled on Biara's right cheek, the spells selected for her armor were woven with an expert hand, and the outfit made a bold statement about her capabilities as well as her intentions with her words.

It was, of course, exactly what she'd planned. Biara did nothing, absolutely nothing without considering the political ramifications these days.

Biara took in a deep breath, her voice coming out in a steady, confident tone that made it seem as if she were addressing each individual Magister and Magistrix present. There was no hint of anxiety or worry as she carefully turned while she spoke, looking many of the other Sin'dorei in the eyes.

"Esteemed colleagues," she began. "It is indeed an honor to stand before you on this glorious day and address such a powerful representation of Sin'dorei might. All of you within this room represent the true meaning of what it is to be a Sin'dorei. You hold within your hands and minds the power of thousands of years of progress in the magical arts, and are the very finest examples of what a spellcaster should be. In all of Azeroth, there are no others and no other body that can compare to all of you, and to address such an august group leaves me humbled."

It was, of course, a carefully prepared charade and they all knew it. Biara had addressed the Magistrate many times before, in fact almost daily, but there were proprieties to consider and niceties to observe when addressing such a gathering. Biara began to pace slowly in a cirle as she continued to speak, the high heeled boots she wore in combat making a light clicking sound with each footfall on the marble.

"With that said, there is a simple fact that I fear must be given the utmost attention, especially by such knowledgeable minds," she continued, a serious expression on her face. "For many years now we have furthered our arts. Even in the darkest of times when Quel'Thalas was on the brink of destruction, we plied our trade, expanded our knowledge, and used our spellcraft to protect our noble nation and people. We have made great sacrifices, and lost many of our fellows in order to see to it that we would still sit within these chambers and study magic. We have even created an assembly of Sin'dorei dedicated to discovering and collecting artifacts to further our cause. Of course I refer to the Reliquary when I speak of this."

Biara paused, turning to look at the three Magisters at the chamber's head. She spread her hands wide, as if enjoining them to embrace her next words, "This organization has done much to advance our cause, has collected much magic over the years. But I ask you, where now are these artifacts? Where now does the fruit of the Reliquary's labor go? Do their finds grace our halls and enrich our Houses? Is Quel'Thalas safer for their gathering of power, or does such magic slip from between our fingertips?"

Biara's hands fell to her side, and she shook her head almost sadly, "No my fellow Magisters, we do NOT benefit from their labors. The magical artifacts they gather do not reside in Silvermoon, but instead are taken by the orcs to further the goals of the Warchief. While such a cause could be considered noble, I need not remind you all of the consequences of powerful sources of magic being located in the hands of others outside of Quel'Thalas. We have ample evidence just outside these very chambers of the destruction that such a situation could bring about."

There were murmurs amongst the assembly as Biara's words sunk in. From one of the galleries a single word fluttered down to where Biara stood on the central floor, her long, slanted ears easily picking it up. The word was 'Treason'.

Biara whirled towards the source of the word, jabbing a manicured finger towards that general area of the assembly, "This Magistrate was formed for the sole purpose of governing magic in Quel'Thalas at the will of the royal line. Though we have now a Regent only, we still fulfill this purpose. The Horde are our allies, but they do NOT rule this nation, the Regent Lord does. The Blood Knights do. We do. It is inconceivable that we would even allow the thought of outsiders influencing the decisions we make in the council to come to pass. Inconceivable that we would allow others to influence the Reliquary and STEAL objects that not only rightfully belong to the Sin'dorei, but that threaten Quel'Thalas itself."

Biara let her hand drop, her heated words echoing in the chamber. She nodded, spreading her arms wide again and turning towards another portion of the group, "My friends, it is a simple choice that we face in the near future. The time is coming when we Sin'dorei must look to what is best for our nation, our people. A time is coming when we must consider what loose magic in the world can do to us, and remember the lessons that history has taught us. I am not asking you today to decide one way or another whether or not the orcs are truly trustworthy. That topic is one better reserved for those higher than ourselves. No, instead I am simply restating our purpose; to serve Quel'Thalas as the guardians of its magic. I only ask that you think long and hard about the artifacts that have gone missing, about how much magical power we wish our allies to possess, and how we might benefit from ensuring those resources are in reliable hands."

Biara let her hands drop, her breathing somewhat labored from the passion she had poured into her words. She turned to face the three Magisters at the head of the chamber once more, bowing her head, "Magisters, given that a lack of action could lead to the loss of precious resources, I wish to propose that a committee be created to carefully catalog those items that the Reliquary has collected, and how many artifacts have been shipped into orc hands in the past few years. The strength, location, and description of such artifacts may become extremely important in the near future."

She turned, offering the assembly a curtsey before concluding, "I thank you, my Lords and Ladies, for giving me the opportunity to address you this morning."

With that she turned and proceeded back to her seat, thunderous applause and heated debates instantly springing to life amongst the crowd behind her. As Biara headed back towards her chair, her lips curled into a smile as her motion was seconded.

It would take only a small bit of maneuvering to ensure that she was assigned to the committee that would most likely be created. She would be quite useful for such an endeavor after all. And once the committee had begun the catalog the artifacts gathered by the orcs...well, suffice to say she would have a list of the locations of such artifacts ready at hand in the case of an emergency.

Biara's smile widened as the debate began to unfold within the galleries around her, plans flowing through her mind like water running its course down a river. When the true rebellion started, House Sunfire would be there, aiding the Sin'dorei at every step of the way, and enriching themselves on the spoils of war.

After that? Nothing would stand in their way, and Quel'Thalas would be protected as never before, with the removal of certain evils that threatened its safety. Biara would see to it personally.

Sleeping Sisters

Eversong Woods
Forests Surrounding Sunfire Estate
Midnight 

"Are you sure your information is correct?" the voice growled, the discontent obvious. The orc that spoke had been displeased with the assignment from the moment it had been given to him, but he had vowed to see it through, even if it meant working with weak elf filth like the Sin'dorei he was addressing.

On the other side of the map that was unfolded on the ground, the black-haired Sin'dorei nodded, pretending not to notice the condescending tone in the orc's voice. Around them over a dozen additional orcs huddled, their armor dulled with ash and their weapons ready for war. Beside the male elf stood a second, more slender female Sin'dorei with bright red hair.

Although she had not been addressed, the female Sin'dorei stabbed a finger down at the map and spoke quickly in a low voice, "Yes, our information comes from the most deeply placed spies. The right side of the central tower is where Kyliska Sunfire retains her quarters. She is known to engage in practice bouts in the training yard down below just around sunset before retiring for a bath and a meal. If we hit the tower here and enter through this window, we can take her unawares while she is without her armor and weapons in her bed."

The orc grunted, his eyes pouring over the map again, "There is little honor in slaughtering a hapless foe in her bed. Even so, traitors get what they deserve. Perhaps I will let her beg for a few moments before I slaughter her."

The male Sin'dorei cut in, shaking his head, "Kyliska Sunfire is a vicious killer. She'll fight you to the death, likely even while naked. Be glad we've found a way to strike at the first of the Sunfire sisters while she is vulnerable."

The orc nodded, pointing to the map again, "And what of her sister, the Magistrix? You believe your distraction will work?"

The female Sin'dorei nodded, smiling as she responded, "Yes. With my spells I'll create a fire that will trap her near the top of the tower. She'll be so busy fighting it that when you set real fires in the floors below she'll be unable to escape in time. I've got spells that will prevent her from teleporting out, and her tower will become her pyre."

"You had better be right," the orc responded, glaring at the two elves. "The Warchief does not tolerate failure. Your House Dawnsea was wise to come to us with news of the betrayal of this Sin'dorei family, but we cannot afford to make a mistake here. Other pathetic blood elf traitors have been making a stand alongside the trolls, and while we cannot respond directly, little lessons like this will go far to teach the others the price of betrayal. The Warchief will remember those who aided him when this is over."

The two Sin'dorei bowed before the orcs, knowing his words carried the weight of a Kor'kron commander. As they straightened up, the female Sin'dorei frowned, tilting her head, "There is something amiss here...I sense...a spell? Quickly, stand back."

The orc commander took a step back as the elf began to chant, waving her hands in the air. The orcs within the small clearing watched tensely, looking for signs of betrayal. Small little blue sparks of magic drifted over the clearing, glittering in the night. "This spell will counteract any magic here and dispell it. Likely the Sunfire sisters had some defenses in place even within the forest."

As the sparks settled, the air in the center of the camp near the map began to shimmer as the magic there was dispelled. Space seemed to warp for a moment before solidifying, an invisibility spell collapsing and revealing the presence of a cowled elf in red robes that had been standing amongst the group the entire time in secret.

Although the elf's face was partially concealed by the cowl, her lips curled into a tight-lipped smile and blue wards began to glitter on the face hidden within the cowl. Her voice came out in an almost sensuous tone, a bit of playful mocking hidden within it, "You know, if you are going to be such amateurs you really should select an easier target. Perhaps House Sunhaven? Their estate is much more easily breached I've been told."

For a moment the clearing was completely silent, the orcs and Sin'dorei looking at each other with wide eyes. A second later it exploded into action as orcs drew weapons and howled, even as the two Sin'dorei prepared their own spells. All of the attacks were focused on Biara, who stood calmly in the center of the clearing with her hands by her side. Weapons arced out and spells flashed, all reaching for her.

Only there were two of her. And then three. And then four.

Spells slashed into mirages, hitting nothing but the orcs standing behind them. Charging attackers staggered through non-existent foes to impale their comrades. All the while, lancing bolts of razor sharp ice began to fall amongst the orcs, slaying an assailant here or tearing through a limb there.

Around the edge of the clearing lights suddenly sprang to life, the flames of lit torches throwing the clearing into stark relief. Throughout the woods around the would-be assassins were Blood Knights, their armor gleaming in the torchlight. Amongst them Kyliska stood, her helm in her hand and a grin on her face. She placed her helmet on her head and drew her greatsword with one swift motion, a warcry already on her lips as she began to dash towards the fray.

It was over in less than a minute. Completely surrounded and outnumbered, the surprised assassins found themselves crushed by the Blood Knights even as spells continued to slaughter them from amongst their own ranks. The Kor'kron leader did what he could to rally his men, but there was no one direction in which to engage the foe, and one by one his orcs were cut down.

He turned, deciding to cut his way through the attackers and into the forest beyond, his blade coming up in preparation to behead one of the Blood Knights blocking his path. With a roar on his lips, he charged, only to feel a terrible agony settle over his weapon hand. He looked down in horror to see that it had been severed, his blood dripping from Kyliska's blade as she stepped closer. With one hand she reached up, ripping her helm free again and watching him with her glittering fel green eyes.

"You know, I'd make you beg for a few minutes before killing you, but you made me miss my bath this evening and I'd really like to get back to my 'normal routine'. You understand, right?" Kyliska said in a mocking tone.

The orc roared, drawing a dagger and leaping towards her, only to find his charge intercepted by a flaring of Light that left him dazed. A gauntlet slammed into his throat, crushing his windpipe and forcing him to his knees. Choking and sputtering, he looked up to see Kyliska standing over him, his last sight a view of her sword as it arced down towards him in the torchlight.

A moment later Kyliska turned, flicking orc blood from her blade as she sought her sister out. Biara stood in the middle of the camp, watching as House Sunfire troops cleaned up the rest of the assassin nest. As Kyliska joined her sister, two Blood Knights came forward, a slumped Sin'dorei held in between them. It was the female spellcaster, looking a bit worse for wear with bruises on her face and blood running from a cut on her lip.

Biara smiled, nodding at her sister before studying the captive closely. Around them the howls of Blood Knights putting the wounded to the sword echoed through the dark forest. "Magistrix, what shall we do with the prisoner?"

Biara reached up, pulling her cowl down so she could get a better look at the elf. Fel green eyes studied the prisoner, and the prisoner spat on the ground at the sisters' feet. "Do with me what you will. I did what was right for Quel'Thalas. I'm not the traitor here!"

Biara reached forward, lithe, manicured fingers holding the elf's chin upright and forcing her to meet Biara's gaze. She squeezed, her nails digging into the prisoner's cheeks, "No. You ARE the traitor. I am a Magistrix of Silvermoon City, and I will decide what is right or wrong. By bringing Kor'kron into our forests you threaten the safety of our realm, and I deem that you ARE a traitorous little bitch."

The elf tried to speak again and squealed as Biara's fingers began to heat up with magic. The Magistrix snarled, stepping closer, her voice a low and venomous whisper, "I will never allow traitors and criminals to threaten the safety of the Sin'dorei. I have sworn my life to this cause, and now I will take yours in order to see to it that we do not fail. You should have thought twice before crossing House Sunfire."

Biara pushed the elf's head down, turning away condescendingly. She nodded at Kyliska, who gave her a grin before turning to walk with her. Biara gestured as the two departed, speaking over her shoulder, "Bring her to the dungeon. I have a few....questions to ask her later."

With that the Scions of House Sunfire departed the clearing, heading back towards the tower that stood above the trees in the distance, a red banner depicting a burning sun with two crossed swords behind it fluttering in the cool evening air above it, the starlight shining down from the sky above.

Doubt and Confidence

Kor'korn Mining Operations
Northern Barrens
 Midnight

The figures moved silently through the night, only the soft sound of their footsteps in the tall grass of the barrens whispering around them. Wearing light plate and scale mail armor, the group had used thick cloth as a sound absorber by lacing the material in between each piece of metal to prevent the plates from clinking against one another. Each of the lithe Sin'dorei forms also carried a large sword or axe, and all wore full plate helms that covered their faces and heads completely.

Along the outskirts of the Kor'kron mining camp, the sentries walked their normal routes, searching for intruders amongst the operations set up by the Warchief to fuel the army that was bearing down on the troll uprising in Durotar. Although the orcs had keen eyesight, the Sin'dorei kept low in the tall grass and were able to get within feet of them before springing their ambush.

It was over in a matter of moments, squads of highly trained and well prepared Blood Knights pouring from the high grasses and cutting down the sentries before they could rouse the rest of the camp. In the lead group, Kyliska Sunfire grinned behind her helm as she brought her greatsword down in a slash, cutting down another of the orcs. Long away from true battle, she gleefully continued the charge, her men pouring into the encampment behind their eager leader.

Ahead of her Kyliska saw activity begin to erupt amongst the outer tents and guard towers that perched above the mine opening in this part of the Kor'kron holdings. Orcs poured from their bunks as the sounds of combat echoed through the night. Disorganized and unprepared for such a large force to strike at them so quickly, the orcs found themselves hurled back as Kyliska continued to advance with her men.

Her heart raced as she cut down another orc, the thrill of battle flowing through her like fire in her veins. Kyliska felt as if she could fly as the adrenaline pumped through her, making her feet move faster and her warcry echo loudly into the night. Around her the Blood Knights under her command took up her shout, the sound overwhelming the clash of blades as they met more resistance. The further into the camp they pushed, the more the orcs began to resist, their numbers growing as they grabbed weapons and wiped sleep from their eyes. It mattered not a bit to Kyliska however; she was in the moment and ready to face whatever might come her way.

Her primary objective was to capture the area around the base of a Kor'kron observation tower that overlooked the mine's entrance. To this end she began to direct her men towards the structure, her shouted commands coming in between bouts of furious hand to hand combat. Although the orcs were much larger than her and highly trained, the pure raw fury pumping through her at that moment made Kyliska more than up to the task of gutting them as they charged at her. Around her the other Blood Knights fared equally well, the Light they wielded flashing brightly in the darkness of the night and sending orcs scattering away from the front of their advance.

Just as she reached the base of the tower, Kyliska observed the largest group of orc fighters she had yet seen gathering near the mine's opening. Amongst them she saw several orcs in robes and holding staves or armed with strange, flickering orbs that rippled with fire. Her eyes widened within her helm as one of them brought an orb up and began to chant, fire growing in the air around the object. Kyliska braced herself to be struck by the spell, silently urging her men forward in her mind and hoping they could reach the main enemy force before they were cut down by spells.

Just as the magic was about to build to a critical mass the air around the orc began to warp and spark strangely as the leylines were shredded by arcane magic. The orc howled as his spell fizzled away to nothing, harmless flares of fire shooting up into the air from his deadened orb. Kyliska turned her head, looking back over her shoulder to see three robed figures striding over to a small rise that her men had already secured. Although she couldn't identify all of the Sin'dorei due to the large hoods they wore to cover their heads, she could see the sparkle of blue runes on the face of one of the spellcasters and she knew that Biara Sunfire was there with her own magic to defend her sister.

Kyliska grinned as a fel green eye gave her a wink from beneath the hood before she turned and continued her charge, blade held high. Behind her she heard a musical voice begin to chant and a moment later deadly shards of ice flew over her shoulder and slammed into one of the spellcasters, hurling him to the ground. Kyliska roared another warcry and darted down the rise towards the mine's entrance, her Blood Knights following her into battle eagerly.

On the rise behind her, the magical battle began in earnest as several more robed orcs began to hurl spells at the trio of Sin'dorei holding their ground. Arcane energies flickered into life as Biara's wards absorbed several of the spells, the magic arcing into the air and absorbed into her own spellwork. Her apprentices chanted in unison with her, deadly shards of ice flying from the position they held and slashing into the ranks of orcs milling about behind the main combat. Kor'kron fell left and right, pierced by shards of ice or frozen to death where they stood, their own magic deflected and exploding harmlessly in the grasses around the Sin'dorei spellcasters.

Beneath her hood Biara grinned, reaching out with both hands to conjure a swirling ball of magical energy before hurling it amongst the orcs. The orb expanded, razor sharp shards of ice flying from it in all directions as orcs dove for cover behind supply crates and tents. Several explosions rocked the encampment as mining supplies detonated, the howls of orcs rising up from the flames and debris raining down on the combatants. Biara strode forward, her apprentices following her and magic on her fingertips as she pushed the enemy spellcasters back, destroying the best line of defense amongst the surprised orcs.

Kyliska continued her own push, her charge meeting fierce resistance and placing her in the midst of the largest melee, just where she enjoyed being most. Her blade dripping gore now and her armor dented and battered, she whirled and dove between the orcs, slashing and cutting them down one after another. With a roar one of the Kor'kron overseers charged her, his own form massive as he brought his axe down towards her. Kyliska merely laughed again with her helmet, all concerns vanished in the unending thirst for blood that pounded in her temples. She dove to the side as the axe bit into the soil next to her, her own blade coming up and embedding itself in his chest even as her Light lashed out to blind a second orc that had been coming up behind her.

With the overseer's fall, the morale of the orcs broke and they began to run. Kyliska struck out, cutting the legs out from under one of the fleeing orcs as several more shards of ice flew over her and struck a few in the back. Within moments the battle began to end as orcs streamed away from the victorious Sin'dorei, their forms shrinking in the distance as they abandoned that portion of the mining operations. Kyliska could hear horns calling in other nearby encampments as the orcs roused more of their warriors, and she knew they had only a limited amount of time to complete their objective.

As she turned to go back towards where Biara was consulting with her apprentices, a strong hand gripped her ankle. She looked down in surprise to see a mortally wounded orc glaring up at her, blood on his tusks and staining the ground around him.

"F-filthy traitor!" the orc growled. He futilely tried to grasp a dagger with his mangled arm, spitting his words up at her as she looked at him in surprise. "You b-betray the Warchief! You will die for this scum!"

With her bloodlust waning and the orcs words ringing in her head, Kyliska found herself unable to answer the wounded creature at her feet, her mouth opening and closing within her helmet as she tried to form a response. The realization of what they were actually doing began to dance in her mind, and she felt a shiver go up her spine as the word 'traitor' echoed in her thoughts.

"You think he won't k-know elf scum?" the orc spat again. Unable to hold his weapon, he could only apply pressure to the plate armor around her calf. It hurt a little, but wouldn't cause an injury. "The Warchief will wipe your people off of the face of Azeroth for this! W-we...we will kill all of the traitors and make a stronger horde! Y-you are weak and pathetic!"

"N-no! We're not traitors!" Kyliska heard herself bark out. "We've always fought for the Horde! Y-you...we...."

Her voice trailed off as she looked at the wreck of a creature at her feet, her hands trembling now and her grip on her sword weak. What were they doing? They were killing orcs, their longtime allies and people they had fought beside for years against the Alliance. How could it have come to this? Why were they here? Without the bloodlust to cloud her thoughts, the cold reality of the treachery they had just committed made Kyliska's heart sink like a stone in a pond.

She plunged her sword into the soil, reaching up to lift her visor out of the way so she could speak more clearly with the orc. She wanted to kneel down beside him and explain to him that they were NOT traitors and that her loyalty could never be in question, but the words wouldn't come to her. As she opened her mouth to speak again, a lance of razor sharp ice shards flew through the air and slammed into the orc's chest, slaying him instantly and splattering his blood on her face. She blinked her eyes, reaching up to wipe the gore from her cheeks as best she could.

Biara stood beside her, looking at her quizzically and speaking softly, "Sister. We agreed that there would be no prisoners. What are you doing? We've only a limited amount of time to finish here. I've set the men to burning as many of the supplies as possible."

Kyliska paused, looked at her sister miserably and shaking her head, "Why Biara? Why are we doing this? What made it come to this point? These people are our allies. They've always been there for us and now we kill them? I just don't understand what is happening. I know there have been problems with the Warchief but this...this is just wrong..."

Biara reached up and pushed her hood back, her fire red locks falling around her face as she shook her head and patted Kyliska's shoulder, "No sister, what is wrong is when a leader decides that his allies are disposable tools to be used and cast aside. What the Warchief has done has resulted in the deaths of Sin'dorei, and worse it has lead to him stealing magic that rightfully belongs to us. He has tarnished our image and threatens to destroy everything we've worked to rebuild in Quel'Thalas. Some of the orcs may still be our friends, but when it comes right down to it I will slay ANYONE who threatens the Sin'dorei, even traitors amongst our own ranks. You know this. It is what we've always fought for."

Kyliska sighed, nodding as her sister spoke and looking at the dead orc on the ground between them sadly, "I know that. I know you're right but it just feels wrong. I just....I have a lot of misgivings about this. It's not like it used to be, when we knew who the enemy was without question. This is not like slaughtering humans that we KNOW are trying to kill Sin'dorei."

Biara nodded, taking her sister's hand in hers and gently guiding her around the dead orc, "I know that Kyli, but there's more to it than that. Come, I think you need to see this."

The two walked through the wreckage of the camp even as the Sin'dorei they had lead there continued to burn and pillage as much as possible. Along one side of the battlefield lay more dead orcs, and Biara brought Kyliska over to a few that wore robes, kneeling down and retrieving one of the orbs that the orcs had been using. She held it up, nodding in satisfaction as if flared with deadly fire magic.

"This orb is an abomination. The orcs have stolen objects like this from across all of Azeroth to empower their magics. With it, they are harnessing the earth and tearing the leylines in this area. If you look in the pit beyond, elementals rage at what has been done to them and the very soil is burned and scorched," Biara said in an almost professional manner.

Kyliska looked beyond the dead and into the mining pit below, seeing the magical damage her sister had pointed out as if for the first time, noting the raging elementals that thrashed against the walls of the mine's entrance. She nodded, biting her lip and looking back at Biara, whose own gaze was affixed on the orb. The wards on her face glittered brightly as Biara snuffed the orb's power, absorbing it into her body with a shudder. When Biara looked back at her sister, there was a smile of satisfaction on her face and her fel green eyes glowed just a little brighter.

"There is also the Sha to consider," Biara said, tossing the now dead orb onto the ground behind her. It shattered into a thousand dull fragments as she lead Kyliska away from the dead and towards the center of the camp. "I do not know what Garrosh is doing, but he has breached the wards on a Titan chamber that contained some relics dealing with the Old Gods. We have already seen that he is willing to employ deadly magics to slaughter soldiers and civilians alike. I will not allow him to have such power unchecked when it could be turned against Quel'Thalas. It is time we seized this magic for ourselves once more."

"I think I see Biara," Kyliska said slowly, turning her sister's words over and over in her mind. Although doubt still nagged at her, she knew that what the Magistrix said was right, and if her experiences in Pandaria had taught her nothing else, she also knew that trusting feelings of doubt lead to empowering the Sha. "No matter what happens, you know you can always count on me. We will do this together, and we will help the rest of our people to see what you've shown me."

Biara nodded, smiling and embracing her gore-covered sister. "I knew you would understand once you saw. While we cannot tell anyone of what we've done here yet, the Magistrate and the Regent Lord both have been looking at the Warchief askance for some time now. It is only a matter of time before we are fully engaged in all out war. When that time comes, the honors we will receive for what we've done here will come to those whose true loyalty is and always has been to Quel'Thalas. Together we will protect the future Kyli."

Kyliska nodded, returning her sister's embrace and then turning and beginning to bark orders to her men. Within moments they had begun to pull back, towards the center of the encampment as planned. Biara began to chant, her apprentices joining in as they opened a glowing portal back to Quel'Thalas. Within moments the Sin'dorei strike force began to pull back, the highly trained fighters disappearing into the portal and returning home.

Kyliska smiled at her sister one more time before stepping through the portal, leaving Biara as the last to enter. The Magistrix turned and studied the now-burning encampment with a critical gaze before reaching into a pouch and pulling out a small blue orb. She held it up before her, smiling and leaning forward to place two ruby red lips against it in a gentle kiss.

She turned and tossed the orb over her shoulder, letting it shatter on the ground behind her as she walked towards the portal. Her voice murmured softly as she departed, the words hanging over the now silent encampment.

"House Sunfire sends its regards, Warchief."

Biara vanished, her portal closing behind her as the shattered orb began to spit magic out of it. Arcane energies built up into a hum as the spell grew, magic preparing to fulfill its purpose within the center of the camp. The energy continued to grow, drawing from the leylines all around the area until it reached critical mass, the full force of a netherstorm unleashed in a catastrophic explosion in the center of the dead camp.

The flash of light flickered across the night sky of the Barrens as the Sin'dorei magic destroyed the mine's entrance and sent tons of rock and soil plummeting into the open pit the Kor'kron had made, putting an end to the mining operation along that side of the encampment.