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.