Deals Gone Bad

Braeth'el nodded to the ranger guarding the common area of the suite of rooms that the group had obtained in Silvermoon City's larger inn. The Sin'dorei nodded back at the spymaster as he pushed aside the curtains, peeking into the bedchambers beyond. Laying peacefully in sleep, Telatha Dayfire didn't at all represent what she actually was to the other elves in the suite; a symbol of hope for a better future. Instead, she just seemed like a young lady who was in a dire situation and that had few resources at hand to deal with it.

Braeth'el studied her for a moment from the doorway, ensuring that she was well and that her chambers were empty of any threat before sighing. Over the past few days, Telatha had more and more come to represent something to him as well; not just hope for the future, but actually someone whom he could support without the quagmire of moral dilemma that had so plagued his career as a spy. When he had sworn to defend the Dayfire family long ago at the start of his career, a part of his vow had been to ensure that Quel'Thalas prospered. Under Telatha's father House Dayfire had prospered, but so too had the common citizenry of Quel'Thalas. Tel'athar Dayfire had been a great man, and it was only in his illegitimate daughter that Braeth'el once again saw the spirit and drive that had made him so.

"I will not fail you, my Lady," Braeth'el whispered to no one. He looked at Telatha's sleeping form one last time before turning away. She needed resources and assistance and there were ways for him to obtain them, but it would be dangerous. The time had come though to put some effort into this if he wanted her to succeed, and he'd already decided that he did. It was no longer a choice, just another task to check off his list.

As he walked away, he never saw the glowing green demonic eye perched above the doorway peering at him. He never saw the fel magic fade as the eye faded, nor the fel green glow of a pair of eyes opening on the bed behind him as the curtains fell closed once more...

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

The alley was dark and dingy and not at all typical of much of Silvermoon. Near the edge of the ruins where the Wretched still often held sway, the safety of the place was questionable and was even more questionable at night. As Braeth'el waited impatiently, he considered the two escape routes from the place and frowned; it was far more enclosed than he'd prefer, but there was nothing he could do about it.

"Ah, there you are Braeth'el," a voice called out. Braeth'el turned to see a Sin'dorei walking down the alley towards him, his red and gold leather armor only glinting slightly in the dim light.

"Ketharis," Braeth'el said, feeling somewhat relieved. "I didn't think you'd actually come."

The other elf paused near him, grinning, "I didn't think that you would come. You've been in a bit of trouble there, my friend."

Braeth'el nodded, feeling the weight of the words, "I know, I know. Events have moved beyond what I would have imagined a mere month ago. But I have discovered that there are always options if one knows where to look. That's why I've called you here tonight."

Ketharis held up a hand, shaking his head, "I don't want to know Braeth'el. You're poison right now. You know that you've got House Sunfire and House Dawnsea looking for you? You're a loose game piece now, a piece of unfinished business. No one is going to deal with you."

Braeth'el's face hardened, "And so that's the end of it then? After all the favors I pulled for you and some of the others, I won't be 'dealt with'? Lives are at stake here, Ketharis. This goes beyond the normal games that the Houses play. Things need to change, and for the better. This is a new start, a chance to do that and put an end to all the misery. The fact that I didn't see it before now shows how wrapped up I was in all of it."

Ketharis grinned, "You can't change the world, Braeth'el. Whatever you think you've found, it won't make a difference. Things are as they are, and as I said, you're a loose end that needs to be tidied up."

Braeth'el paused, studying the other elf, suddenly feeling ill at ease. His tone was stern and one of his hands drifted to his belt, "I see that we won't be able to deal then. I am sorry for that."

Ketharis shook his head and Braeth'el noted two shadows detaching themselves from the gloom at the end of the alley, heading towards the group. He could hear similar movement from the other end of the alley behind him as Ketharis spoke, "Sorry Braeth'el, but they pay an awful lot for loose ends. Way more than you could ever pay me. Come along peacefully and these lovely House Dawnsea guards will treat you well. You'll be an honored guest. And me? I'll be rich."

Braeth'el drew his weapons, dropping into a crouch as he prepared to sell his life dearly. His heart sank as he realized he'd failed. Not only had his attempt to reconnect with the spy network of the city been thwarted, but now he'd been exposed to the worst of his enemies, all before he could obtain the information and supplies that Telatha needed. His one regret was that she'd never know what happened to him; he'd simply disappear. His jaw locked in a grimace as he prepared himself to make sure that a few of House Dawnsea's men also disappeared this evening.

Ketharis drew a blade, grinning as he stepped towards Braeth'el, "Bad choice Braeth'el. Just give it up and you won't be hurt too badly."

As he stepped forward with the House Dawnsea guards behind him, he paused, his eyes growing wide. To Braeth'el's surprise he began to shake, the blade falling out of his hands and clattering on the stones of the alley as he fell to his knees and began to howl in pain. The other two guards looked down at him for a moment and then their eyes widened. One of the screamed and turned, running headfirst into the narrow alley's wall while the other threw his blade down and lowered himself to the ground, curling into a fetal position and mewling pathetically.

Braeth'el blinked once as the trio engaged in their bizarre actions before he looked past them and saw a petite, robed and cowled figure standing in the shadows of the alley. A pair of fel green eyes stared at him from the cowl, and fel runes marked the side of the elf's face. Braeth'el found himself smiling despite himself, whispering her name, "Telatha....of all the foolish..."

He had little time to finish the thought as he felt stirring behind him. He dove forward into a roll, moving between the incapacitated elves and coming up in a crouch, narrowly avoiding the blows of the two attackers behind him. To his surprised they were armored Blood Knights; it was clear that House Dawnsea was taking no chances with his capture.

As he prepared for battle, he felt Telatha moving up behind him and shook his head; now he'd put her in danger as well with his foolish attempts to meet his contacts. He'd need to ensure she was safe and get her out of there. Telatha though apparently had other plans, surprising him again as she marched past him, fists planted on her hips. Braeth'el noted that one of the elves she had incapacitated was beginning to stir, reaching for his blade where it had fallen in the alley. He moved forward, acting quickly.

Telatha's voice rang out in the narrow alley, echoing from the stones, "I order you to stand down at once. This man is under my protection and you will not lay your hands on him! By the name of House D-"

Telatha's rather stern orders were interrupted by two events, the first being that Braeth'el had clamped a hand over her mouth to avoid her giving away her identity. The second event was that his other arm had let go of his blade and wrapped around her waist, heaving her up into the air and backwards like a doll. He acted just in time as one of the Blood Knights attempted to lunge at her with his blade, the weapon narrowly missing the noble.

As he whirled and set the now squealing Telatha down, Braeth'el's mind noted with amusement how light and fragile she felt. This thought was followed up with regret at that fact, given that two of the elves she'd originally struck with magic had now risen up with their weapons in hand, hemming them both in as the Blood Knights pressed their attack. That someone so small and fragile would meet a bloody, violent end in an alleyway seemed wrong somehow.

Of course, Braeth'el didn't realize that Telatha had more tricks up her sleeve. As he turned to offer her an apologetic look, she shouted a word in Demonic. The harsh sound echoed through the alley, and Braeth'el felt it settle in the pit of his stomach. The elf he was staring at no longer resembled the petite young woman, but now had glowing red eyes and flames shooting from what was a maw rather than a mask covering part of her face. He looked down to see insects crawling all over the alleyway and all over his body, his heart pounding in his chest as fear nearly made him fall to his knees.

The spell was not cast at him; he'd merely seen the barest edge of it. The others around them screamed pathetically and ran fleeing from the battle, their boots pounding away on the wet stones of the alley as they fled, weapons left behind and their coarse shouts echoing into the distance. Braeth'el took a deep breath, trying to calm the raging terror he felt, blinking once and forcing himself to look at Telatha again.

There was no fire breathing monster, no insects and no flaming red eyes. There was just the young Sin'dorei again, her eyebrow arched in concern as she studied his face. She reached out, placing a reassuring hand on his arm and he took a deep breath, nodding to her to indicate that he was alright.

"We need to go now, Braeth'el," she said in a low voice. "The spell will not hold forever. Back to the center of the city and the safety of the inn."

To Braeth'el's surprise, he felt Telatha's hand reach down and her fingers entwine with his own as she turned to lead him to safety. Still trying to catch his breath, he let her lead him away, the novelty of being rescued by her when it should have been the reverse making him smirk at himself as they left the darkness of the alley and returned to the walkways of the city proper.

They wouldn't speak of the event again that evening, but each of them would come to realize that they could count on the other in the days to come. For the first time in his career, Braeth'el began to think of his employer as a friend rather than just a House name.

It would make all the difference in the end.

Tempting the Scion

Telatha sighed, running the brush through her long, flowing red hair one last time before setting it down on the vanity and looking at herself in the mirror. The reflection staring back at her was not displeasing, but the young noble in the mirror was certainly one that Telatha believed should not be carrying such burdens as the ones she bore, at least not at her age. It was for older, wiser heads to lead Houses and delve into politics. Unfortunately she was given little choice in the matter though, and she would do what she must.

With another sigh, likely from tension, Telatha rose and walked the short distance to the luxurious bed behind her. The suite of inn rooms they'd rented in Silvermoon were not lacking for creature comforts, although Telatha would have gladly traded the extra luxury for the security of returning home to Dawnslight Isle where her friends and those she cared about awaited news from her anxiously. It would be difficult to sleep with such heavy thoughts going through her mind, but Telatha knew she had to try; the next few days would be busy with trying to locate and contact members of House Felo'melorn to seek refuge. She'd need to be focused and calm when speaking with them and knew she needed as much rest as she could get.

Slipping out of the robe she wore, Telatha climbed into bed, pulling the silken covers up over herself and whispering a word of magic to dim the magical lanterns in the room. As darkness settled around her, Telatha found herself relaxing slightly; possibly enough to catch a few hours of sleep at least. She closed her eyes, starting to drift off towards slumber.

An hour or two slipped by as Telatha slept fitfully, her mind not ready to surrender all of its worries even in her dreams. As she tossed and turned, a deeper pool of shadow fell over her, and she found herself abruptly awakened as a hand was pressed over her mouth. She gasped as she awoke, finding two pairs of fel green eyes staring into her own from mere inches away.

"Shhhh, be very quiet, my Lady," Braeth'el's voice whispered to her. Telatha's heart was pounding in her chest as she realized he held a dagger in his hands. She nodded once, not making a sound to indicate that she'd understood what he said, placing her trust in him.

After a second he removed his hand, his head dipping closer to hers, his lips almost pressed to one of her long ears, "Someone has been investigating our quarters here in the inn. A spy. I'm not sure who they work for, but I've lost track of them. I need to check your quarters to ensure your safety, my Lady. Please remain still and silent. Pretend you are sleeping."

Telatha nodded again and Braeth'el offered her a reassuring smile before moving off her bed and stalking across the room, blade ready. As Telatha watched his shadow moving, she saw him search her closets and the bathing room attached to her bedchambers. Despite his advice, she found herself nervously slipping out of her bed, her magic coming to her fingertips as he moved out of sight into the adjoining room.

After what seemed like an eternity, Braeth'el reappeared from the bathing room, his blade sheathed as he shook his head to indicate that he hadn't seen any enemies. As he approached Telatha, she had to pause and give him credit for the fact that he didn't even look at her despite the fact that she was wearing nothing more than an extremely short nightgown. At best he'd glanced once at the glowing runes visible through the sheer material on her right hip and on her left ankle, but it was all a very professional assessment.

"It appears that whoever it was either never entered your quarters or has departed before we were able to corner him," Braeth'el said. "It's concerning, but I don't think that the person gleaned any intelligence while here. They likely are just trying to figure out who we are. It does add a bit of urgency to your mission though. I advise you to contact House Felo'melorn as soon as possible, my Lady."

Telatha nodded, her voice still low, "I will try my best Braeth'el. And...thank you. For seeing to my safety I mean. It is appreciated."

Braeth'el paused, as if he were surprised that she was thanking him. He shook his head, offering her a slight bow of respect, "It is my pleasure to aid you, my Lady. Get some rest."

With that he turned and departed, closing the privacy curtains that blocked the room off from the rest of the suite. Telatha sank down on the edge of her bed, still feeling ill at ease despite his reassurance; she was in a dangerous situation, and she knew it.

A voice stirred behind her, female in tone and sultry, "He's cute, isn't he? And he obviously cares about you."

Telatha rolled her eyes, saying nothing as she sensed the presence of the succubus drawing near to her. The demoness sat on the edge of the bed, close behind Telatha, her voice nearly purring into the young noble's ear, "It's okay to think about it you know. I can tell that you still are. You still feel him pressed down on top of you, don't you? You can still taste his fingertips on your lips."

Telatha sighed, saying nothing and trying to ignore the creature. She knew what its goal was; the same as any other demon. Even so, the words were difficult to completely tune out, and she found herself staring at the empty doorway where Braeth'el had departed.

"You wonder what it would be like, I know you do," the demoness continued, moving closer to Telatha and running a hand down her back, feeling the soft young skin of the Sin'dorei. She could see the goosebumps her touch raised and feeling the beating of the elf's heart through her flesh. "It is only natural. And you've no experience with it. It's almost sad to think that you've spent all of this time, and never really had any fun."

Telatha bit her lip, trying to ignore the creature as she leaned even closer, her hot breath in the elf's ear now, "You know, I can show you what you're missing. I can even show you what it would be like with him. You have but to command me, and you know it."

The demoness smiled, feeling Telatha's heartbeat pick up in pace, hearing her breath draw in suddenly at the suggestion, and feeling her shoulder quiver beneath her touch. It was so easy to tempt those who didn't know any better, and the noble's flesh would be delicious. There was nothing quite like corrupting the pure and innocent as far as such demons were concerned!

The demoness leaned forward, her lips practically pressed to Telatha's ear now, about to whisper some further little nothings to sway her. As she moved forward, the young noble suddenly turned, the fel runes on her face blazing with power as her hand lashed out. To the succubus's everlasting surprise, she found her tongue forcibly held between two of Telatha's manicured nails.

"Don't listen to them," Telatha said. The demoness could tell that she was not really talking to her though, but instead reciting something from one of the silly little tomes that Telatha's coven had made. She squeaked a protest, the sound meaningless with her tongue in the pincer-like grip of the Sin'dorei.

Telatha stared the demoness down, power flickering in the air around her as she shook her head, "You do not control me. I am the one with the power here. It is clear that you have forgotten your role as a tool. I cannot complete my objectives with such foulness whispering in my ear, so I'm afraid you'll have to go for a time. I do hope you enjoy your banishment."

The demoness's eyes widened in shock and she tried to protest, but it was far too late as Telatha spat out several words in demonic, the spell flaring to life in the air. Through her contact with the demon the spell flowed from Telatha and then back, purple energies surrounding the creature. With a shriek the demoness was swallowed by the spell, her form shrinking into a purple haze that coalesced in Telatha's hand in the form of a glowing purple gem.

Telatha sighed, shaking her head at the gem as the runes on her face slowly faded, "You really should have known better. I've warned you several times before about attempting to choose a mate for me or even suggesting such things. When the time comes, it will come. I have other things to worry about right now. Like the lives of my people."

With a shrug, Telatha rose, setting the glowing gem down on the nightstand beside her bed before slipping under the covers again. Through the purple glow of the gem's side, she could see the succubus screaming silently at her imprisonment. It meant little to the trained warlock however; demons were tools and were the enemy, they were not things to take advice from.

As she settled down on her pillow again, Telatha found her thoughts drifting back to Braeth'el, and everything he'd done for them so far. Despite herself, Telatha found herself smiling as she recalled the several occasions that he'd been there for her so far. Whether the demoness was right or wrong about what she said, he was at the very least going to become a dear friend.

With a secret smile Telatha closed her eyes and sighed, her last thought of the day that Braeth'el also was rather cute, as spymasters went.

Fel Energy and You- An Introduction to the Coven

*Penned neatly by Telatha Dayfire, a tome is provided to new members of the House Dayfire coven when they begin learning the Fel arts. The letter below is the first page of this tome.*

Greetings! You have been provided with this introductory primer in order to help you begin learning about Fel magic and your role in House Dayfire's coven. As a coven member, you will channel and make use of powers that are both fantastic as well as dangerous. This introductory course will list the basic elements that you should keep in mind as you begin your journey of learning.

To begin, the rules below are fundamental to your understanding of the Fel arts. While the rules are in no particular order of importance, the first rule is considered the 'prime' rule, and should be kept in mind above all others.

Rule 1: "Don't listen to them." Fel magic is composed of dark energy that is shared with powers both vile and demonic. During your studies, you will encounter many such entities and external forces. They are never to be trusted, never to be heeded, and never to be listened to. They provide no advice, no council, and no wisdom. They seek only to lay you low and corrupt your soul. Your will and your will alone determines your course; never listen to outside forces.

Rule 2: "They are not Sin'dorei." You will summon, control, and speak with many foul creatures while using your powers. It is natural to think of others in a personal sense, and to give elven traits to objects and creatures that otherwise do not have them. "A bunny is cute, therefore it must be friendly." Pressing elven traits onto demonic entities will only weaken you to the reality of what they are; creatures made of vile energy bent on your destruction at all times. Do not personify your tools and instead realize what they are.

Rule 3: "Together we stand strong, alone we fall to corruption." You are a part of House Dayfire's coven. Together the coven works towards a better future for our people as a whole. We do not stand alone, mighty towers against a sea of foes. Instead we stand side by side, hand in hand, from the greatest of us to the least of us, as equals. Through your fellow coven members you will gain wisdom, understanding, and protection. You will watch them for corruption, as they will watch you, and you will accept their guidance and words of caution when they have seen dangers to you that you have overlooked. As a whole we prosper, grow in power, and remain safe from the magic we wield. 

Rule 4: "Fel magic is fire." Fel magic, like fire, is a valuable tool that can be used to do wondrous things. It can empower our creations, fuel our realm, and defend us from harm. Like fire however, Fel magic can burn. Unlike fire, it can burn not only your flesh, but your very soul. When wielding it, never forget that you wield fires that would rage out of control but for your will. It is you who decide its course, and you who are ultimately responsible to keep the fire in check.

Rule 5: "They are not pets, nor beloved companions." During the course of your work, you will summon many foul creatures. Some may pretend, in their own devious way, to be friendly, likeable, or even beautiful to the eye. These creatures are not pets. They are not loyal to you. They are not beloved companions to which you should attach emotions. At every moment, they seek your demise. They are not to be trusted, not to be thought of as guards or protectors. You order them to do your will, and you must order them with great care lest they lay you low.

Rule 6: "Do not bow to the will of the Legion." Fel magic comes from dangerous sources, and the Burning Legion seeks to use this energy to destroy much of creation. When wielding your magic, do so with valid purpose. Do not destroy out of hand, do not apply the magic when it is not needed, do not seek to create the very destruction the Legion would commit on its own. Your power is a responsibility and burden, and should be looked on as something you wield with honor for Quel'Thalas. To do less is to risk all that we have worked to build. 

Rule 7: "Let no outsider abscond with your power." Your creations, your magic are yours to wield and yours alone. Others will seek to wrest such power from you, or steal that which you have created. Those outside of the coven should be monitored with care to ensure that dangerous magics are not removed from your sphere of control. Innocents may be injured if you fail to act. 

Rule 8: "Say your fears." The coven is a community wherein you are safe to freely speak what you will. It is here that you should bring your fears, your concerns and minor worries. What may seem like a simple, vexing thing to you could be more dire when looked at by the eyes of all. Together we defeat problems, alone they build up unchecked. 

Rule 9: "The coven united." The coven is a place of safety, wherein you should feel free to express your ideas, learn, and grow in the arts. It is not a place to test your magic against others, or for boastful talk or demonstration. We all learn together, and together we grow in power. Your magics shall never be used against those in the coven, nor shall they use their own against you. Bonded by more than blood, we are united as one.

With these basic rules in mind, the rest of your lessons will build upon the spells contained within this primer. Always remember these nine rules, for they will keep you safe from harm and see to it that you gain both in power, and in fame as others appreciate the work you do to better all of Quel'Thalas. We are proud to welcome you, our new brothers and sisters, into our coven and our home. Let us work as one to make a better future.
~Felmancer Telatha Dayfire, Scion of House Dayfire

First Contact

Braeth'el checked his daggers one final time, turning to look over the group with him. From House Dayfire's limited manpower, a total of six would be accompanying him on their journey to Silvermoon. Three were rangers, with one of them being the elf that Braeth'el had met during the conference and later come to learn was named Kesteran. He was the leader of House Dayfire's military forces and had many years of experience in the field; simply having him and his well trained rangers along for the trip put Braeth'el somewhat at ease.

The other three included Telatha herself, and two other members of her coven including the elf Laerille that Braeth'el had met during the meeting. The other elf was named Bellemasra and, like Telatha and Laerille, had Fel runes decorating her face and arms. As for Telatha herself, Braeth'el had insisted that if she were going to accompany the group, she would need to at least hide her face so as not to be mistaken for Biara and attacked by the enemies of House Sunfire.

The noble had agreed to Braeth'el's suggestion, adorning her face with a red and gold half-mask that obscured her features. As Braeth'el turned to look over the group, he could tell she was smiling at him from beneath her mask by the way her eyes scrunched up at the corners. Rather than looking fierce as a half-masked warlock with visible Fel runes might, Braeth'el thought she looked almost cute beneath the disguise, her petite form and simple robes hiding how important she was and any powers she might have.

Shaking his head to clear such thoughts from his mind, he nodded at Kesteran and then addressed the group, his voice firm, "Alright everyone, we're ready to proceed it seems. I need you to all stay close to me, as there may still be foes in the ruins that this portal connects to. We need only win free of the ruins and enter the city proper to achieve some level of safety; there is no way that either House Sunfire nor House Dawnsea will openly attack us on the cobblestones of Sunfury Court."

The other elves all nodded, several looking solemn or grim, and Braeth'el took a deep breath before turning towards the portal, muttering to himself, "Well, here goes nothing."

With that he slipped through the portal, the magic swallowing him up and depositing him back within the ruins of Dayfire Spire, the empty portal room around him looking much the same as when he'd left. The others quickly appeared behind him, staying close and the rangers holding their weapons ready. With silent hand signals to Kesteran, Braeth'el indicated that the rangers should keep a wary eyes on their surroundings and began to lead the group further into the ruins.

At first all went well, and the party moved swiftly through the ruins without incident. As Braeth'el rounded a corner, something alerted him and he held up a hand to halt the group. He dropped down into a crouch, peering ahead along the path. At first he could not identify what it was that had alerted him, but after carefully looking over the rubble strewn path he saw what it was finally; there was freshly fallen rubble blocking a path off to the right. It was clear that someone had altered the path away from the portal room, funneling any travelers down a narrow corridor of fallen stone.

Braeth'el was about to warn the others behind him when he felt someone crouch down beside him and a delicate hand pressed against his shoulder. Telatha's voice came to him over his shoulder, "Is there trouble?"

For a moment he was surprised that she had come forward herself, and then he was struck by the faint but pleasant scent of mint that she perfumed herself with. He shook his head, having to clear his thoughts for the second time that morning before replying, "I think we're being herded down a specific path. They were probably expecting me to come out this way and have prepared an ambush. I'm sorry, my Lady. I may be responsible for leading you into danger."

He felt her hand squeeze his shoulder in reassurance as she answered, "Nonsense. This was always going to be dangerous. And please, call me Telatha or Tela. You are not my vassal, Braeth'el."

He smiled at this, nodding, "Very well...Tela. We're going to need to run from one section of cover to the next. If you look a head, there are fallen arches that we can shelter beneath. I would suggest we hurry to them and assess the situation before proceeding further into more open spaces."

She nodded, turning and whispering the instructions to those behind her. Braeth'el took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come before rising and dashing down the narrow corridor ahead. Behind him he could hear the others doing the same, their footsteps pounding on the rubble. Just as he'd expected, the minute they moved out into the open heads appeared above them on the rubble 'walls' of the corridor, spells and arrows beginning to fall. Fortunately they space they had to dash through was not overly long, and all of the party managed to hurry beneath the shelter of the broken rock arch, each of them gasping for breath.

"Is anyone hit?" Braeth'el asked. Behind them, the narrow corridor where they'd run had scorched and smoking spots where spells had hit and spent arrows laying along the path. The party checked themselves over, each shaking their heads to indicate they were well. Just as they had done this, a bolt of fire was hurled down into the opening of the archway, striking one of the walls and sending chips of stone flying in all directions. A ranger grunted as he was hit by shrapnel.

Telatha hurried over to the ranger, checking his wound, "Are you alright?!"

The ranger nodded, pulling his ringmail away from his skin to examine the wound, "It's just a scratch, my Lady. Please, let us hurry and get you out of danger."

Braeth'el grunted, seconding the opinion and looking to the path ahead. Above them he could hear the shouts of their ambushers and the sounds of boots scurrying on stones as they attempted to cut off further retreat through the rubble. "We need to hurry! The next part is longer, and we will be under fire the whole time. Everyone move as quickly as possible and stay together!"

With that he was off, dashing down the narrow corridor of stone as arrows came down around him. Behind him the rest of the group ran as fast as they could, narrowly avoiding the deadly rain of fire from the elves above them. As Braeth'el made it to cover, he turned and watched as Kesteran joined him, another ranger and Telatha's coven member Bellemasra arriving quickly behind him. Trailing further behind was the last ranger, Telatha, and Laerille.

Just as it seemed the others might make it, a bolt of ice from one of the ambushing spellcasters on the wall struck the stones in front of Laerille. With a scream she threw her hands up and skidded to a halt as she was pelted with stones. It was too late though as a section of the rubble broke away and fell on her, hurling her to the ground and pinning one of her legs beneath it. Her voice cried out in terror, "I've been hit!"

Telatha and the last ranger skidded to a halt, both of them having just reached the edge of the archway. In horror, Telatha looked back, seeing her friend fallen on the path behind them, "Oh Light we need to help her!"

Braeth'el reached out, grabbing her shoulder and shaking his head, "Leave her! You can't go out there again, you'll be murdered!"

Kesteran nodded his agreement, his voice sad, "Aye, my Lady, there are too many foes!"

It was in that moment that Braeth'el came to know that Telatha was truly of Dayfire blood. With anger marring what features of her face he could see, she shoved him away, her voice venomous, "I will NOT leave her! Stay here if you like but I am going back!"

"My Lady! NO!" Kesteran yelled. Braeth'el tried to reach a hand out to stop her but it was too late; she easily avoided his grasp and ran back out into the open, her boots pounding on the stones as she dashed towards Laerille.

To Braeth'el's everlasting surprise, he found himself dashing after the foolish young noble, shaking his head at her audacity and his own stupidity. He shouldn't care; he knew what was going to happen and he was only adding to the body count by putting himself out in the open. And yet....he had to help her. Her bravery deserved at least that much.

Ahead of him Telatha reached Laerille, spells slashing into the ground around her and arrows clattering from the stones. She skidded to a halt, futilely attempting to lift the stone from her friend. Laerille cried out, shaking her head, "My Lady! Go! Get away! They'll kill you too!"

Telatha steadfastly refused, continuing to pull on the stone as her voice echoed out, "No! I will not leave you behind!"

Braeth'el's heart jumped into his throat as he saw two Sin'dorei rise up on the walls above, magic already flaring in their hands. Ahead of him, an assassin jumped down, blades drawn as he dashed towards Telatha's unprotected back. Another jumped down on the far side, speeding towards the two elves struggling in the ruins.

He didn't even think. Fully into his combat awareness, Braeth'el did what he was trained to do; he killed. His blades flashed out, a knife hitting the would-be assassin in the back and spinning him around. Braeth'el's blade parried the next blow, and he lunged, impaling the elf whom he recognized as a House Sunfire assassin on his blade.

Even as his foe fell, Braeth'el's heart sank. Magic flashed on the walls above him, trailing down towards the struggling noble. He had only a second to call out before the spells struck, his voice almost a dirge, "Telatha! WATCH OUT!"

He saw Telatha fall over her friend in the second before the spells hit, explosions rocking the stones and creating a vortex of fire that filled his view. Already mourning, Braeth'el almost turned away but paused as the fire began to swirl up into the air, whipping in a frenzy.

Within the fire stood Telatha, Fel magic surrounding her like a bubble, the flames not reaching her or Laerille who she sheltered beneath herself. In that moment Braeth'el saw her power, saw the runes on her face flaring so brightly he could barely see the young noble. He could tell from where he was that she was angry though, and her anger finally was given release.

Fire rained down upon the walls as she pointed, Fel magic conjured in a second and sweeping her foes from their perches. Elves screamed as they were burned alive, Laerille reaching out to grasp Telatha's leg and feeding more magic into the flames. The coven members had trained together for years, and together their spells were more than enough to drive back the would-be assailants.

Behind Telatha the second assassin lunged, his blade arcing down towards her head. It was halted an inch from her flame-red locks as a voidwalker appeared, its claws grabbing the assassin's wrist and hurling him backwards. From behind the flames and spells Braeth'el could hear him screaming as the vicious demon began to tear him apart, Telatha standing amidst the destruction, directing her magic one final time to drive those who would kill her people...no, her FRIENDS, away from the battle.

And then it was over. The flames died, the Fel magic receeded, the demon disappeared back into whatever hell it had been conjured from, and there was only Telatha and Laerille remaining. With magic flaring on her runes again, she turned and reached down, using some demonic strength to hurl what was probably a boulder weighing a few hundred pounds off of her friend, kneeling down to embrace the fallen elf.

Braeth'el finally reached them, skidding to a halt as he watched Telatha apply a glowing fel-green stone to Laerille's wounded leg, hearing the elf sigh as her injuries were partially mended. He shook his head, reaching down to scoop up the wounded elf before meeting Telatha's gaze.

There was determination in her eyes now, and he got a sense that she would let nothing stop her from saving her people. They said nothing, there being nothing that needed to be said in the silence between them. He merely nodded at her, and she turned and walked towards the rangers who were even now securing the area, their bows at the ready.

As she walked away, Braeth'el found himself admiring Telatha, his voice barely a whisper, "She's...something isn't she?"

In his arms, the wounded Laerille nodded, smiling up at the assassin, "She'll be the best friend you will ever have, if you let her be. I promise you that."

Braeth'el merely nodded, walking after the young noble, the wounded coven member clinging to him as they continued to make their way to safety from the ruins.

Dark Times

Braeth'el sighed as he walked down the corridor, feeling somewhat anxious. Physically he was in much better shape than he had been only a day before. Having been attended to by a skilled priestess, his wounds were on the mend and he was only a little stiff now. He'd been given comfortable quarters, several delicious hot meals, and even the opportunity to stretch a bit in a practice room and training area that the estate had on its grounds.

Although he'd had only a little time to explore, he understood the basic layout of the place where he found himself now. The estate was a large complex that sat atop a rise on a tiny island. There were only a few acres of land beyond the estate itself; just enough for a few small gardens and the like. The island itself rose from the sea, the water crashing against jagged rocks that formed its coasts, making landing a ship near it difficult if not impossible. How the estate even came to be on the island in the first place was a mystery that likely had an answer involving the word 'magic' in it somewhere.

Braeth'el brushed the thought aside as he came to a double door. His escort, the same priestess that had been tending to his injuries, stepped forward and opened the doors for him, leading him into a small council chamber. In the center of the elegant room was a long, polished hardwood table designed to allow a group to speak in conference. The priestess guided Braeth'el to an empty chair at the conference table, pulling it out for him and waiting for him to seat himself comfortably before pushing the chair in for him and leaving. In front of him Braeth'el found a glass of wine and a small empty journal with an attached pencil should he wish to take notes. It was all very formal and business-like, and he found himself grinning at the strange situation.

After situating himself, he glanced around the room, taking in the other elves who were also seated at the table. At the head of the table stood a large, high-backed chair that was currently empty. The two seats closest to this chair were occupied by two female Sin'dorei, both of whom were wearing intricate robes and had magical Fel markings on their faces. One of them had similar markings running down her arm where her sleeve allowed him to see her skin. Clearly the pair were part of a coven of warlocks that were present on the island.

Braeth'el turned, studying the next Sin'dorei along the length of the table and the one sitting opposite from him. An older elf, he was equipped with fine golden and red chainmail armor, a captain's rank pin affixed to his brilliant red cloak. It was clear from the look of him that he was the island's captain of the guard, and would be advising on military matters.

Towards the end of the table sat two older Sin'dorei with somewhat graying hair, a male and female that were both wearing robes but had no sign of magical artifacts on them. The female seemed to radiant a calming presence, and Braeth'el's keen eyes caught sight of a holy symbol at her throat as she turned and spoke to the old elf across from her in a soft whisper. He smiled at her, reaching to pat her hand as he replied, and it became obvious the two were likely a pair.

Just as Braeth'el had completed his evaluation of the elves in the room, a second door leading into the chambers opened and Telatha Dayfire entered the room, walking to the table with a confident stride. She sat elegantly in the large chair at the table's head, smiling at the others in the room. Braeth'el was again struck by her similarity to Biara Sunfire, and found his eyes traveling down to the Fel markings on her face. Did she know how similar they were to the Magistrix's own markings? Did she do it on purpose? With a start Braeth'el realized he'd been staring and when he brought his gaze back up, he found Telatha's eyes affixed on his. She offered him a smile and wink, seeming to confirm his thoughts before she turned her attention to those at the table.

"Good morning everyone, thank you for joining me today," Telatha began, her eyes looking over the others in attendance. "As you all know, the portal to our island has been reactivated after all these years, allowing us to easily reconnect with Silvermoon City and the rest of Quel'Thalas. This momentous event has the potential to be a great boon for our people here, but may represent great harm as well."

Braeth'el shifted in place, stunned to realized that not only had Telatha invited him to a meeting, but to what would likely be a top-secret, extremely important meeting with her advisors. And yet she didn't know him at all. The naivety of the gesture was unbelievable; it was clear she had never navigated the cut throat politics of Silvermoon. Either that or she was overly trusting in nature, which clashed with the fact that she was literally covered in Fel magic. It was almost surreal to the experienced spy, and yet he found himself already starting to like the young noble.

Telatha looked around the room, studying each of the people seated there before continuing, "I have gathered you here today to discuss what our next steps should be. As you know, we have many needs here that must be met, and I do not believe we should throw away the opportunities this event offers us. However, I know some of you will have concerns that we must all discuss."

To Braeth'el's surprise, the older elf at the end of the table actually spoke without being asked; clearly Telatha allowed her advisors freedom to speak their mind, "My Lady, as you know, our little island contains one hundred twenty three souls. One hundred twenty four once Galadry gives birth. Since the fall of the Sunwell the spells that once allowed us to magically grow food and produce fresh water have been waning. Even with our efforts to reinforce the spells, other momentous events such as the Cataclysm damaged the wards and even the anchor stones that were used for this magic. In time, the spells will fade completely, and we will no longer be able to provide for those who live here. I urge you to consider this situation carefully as a result."

Telatha nodded, turning to look at one of the warlocks sitting nearby, "And what of the portal, Laerille? Has the coven managed to secure it on both ends? Will it remain stable and can we open and close it as needed?"

The Sin'dorei she addressed nodded, smiling, "Yes, my Lady. Our spells have been effective and control of the new portal is now established. In addition it seems that when our guest, Mister Braeth'el, arrived he unwittingly destroyed the portal wards that had been present over the island. With time and materials we will be able to open additional portals to other parts of Quel'Thalas. The one we have now leads to the ruins of the Dayfire Spire, and is not entirely useful for transporting large amounts of goods and materials."

Telatha took this news in, smiling at her coven leader before looking at the others, "It is my belief that we must take advantage of this situation. As Astrael indicated, our food and water supplies must be seen to first. We cannot allow what remains of House Dayfire to die out due to the lack of basic necessities. We either need to establish new portals to other parts of Quel'Thalas, or make arrangements for ships to arrive to deliver the needed supplies."

The elf across from Braeth'el stirred, clearing his throat, "My Lady, I should point out that entering Silvermoon could put our people at risk. There are clearly going to be hostile Houses that would not wish to see you succeed, not the least of which is House Sunfire. I would recommend we send diplomats first to make arrangements for such materials. We cannot fend off an attack by one of the other Houses with the few men we have here."

Telatha opened her mouth to respond and the elf named Laerille cut in before she could answer, "He's right of course! We should send a diplomat first as it might be dangerous. I will volunteer to reach out to some of the other Houses to see what aid we can gain."

Telatha smiled and then shook her head, "No, I will not allow any of you to put yourselves in danger for me. I will do this task myself, although others may accompany me."

This was met by a chorus of objections, the old elf at the end of the table the loudest and talking over the others, "My Lady...you represent the only hope that the remnants of House Dayfire have. If you are killed or captured, the rest of us will be bereft of our homes. I urge you to reconsider this course. You do not even know for sure if the other Houses will accept you given your weak blood line. They may dismiss you out of hand."

Telatha smiled, holding a hand up to silence the objections. Braeth'el noted with some surprise that the others at the table fell silent not because they feared this noble, but because they respected her. He could see it on their faces, see it in the pride the older couple had for her, or the joy of friendship the two coven members had for her. It was completely alien to Braeth'el given his dealings with Telatha's half-sister Biara.

"Please, everyone, I understand your concerns," Telatha said softly, looking at each of them in turn. "I know that this course is dangerous, but I believe that if we are to prosper, if we are to truly restore the Dayfire name, that I must be the one to step forth. The other Houses will not respect me or aid any of us if they do not believe I am willing to take matters into my own hands for my people. I will, of course, defer to each of you in terms of making sure we have security and the like, but I know in my heart that I must do this."

This was met with silence as each of the elves looked at each other. After a moment, there was a general nodding of heads as they fell into agreement. Into the silence, Braeth'el spoke, his voice still somewhat froggy from his injuries, "My Lady Dayfire, if I may speak?"

Telatha turned to him, smiling happily, "Of course, Braeth'el, that is why I invited you here. Your insights may aid us in choosing the right path. I do not wish to come into conflict with your former employer unless she challenges my rights to a name that she cast aside."

Braeth'el nodded, looking at the others, "I would suggest then that you consider carefully who is most likely to aid you, and who might seek to destroy you. You will likely be safe in Silvermoon for a time, as the other Houses are unaware of your existence. Once that changes, then your concerns will come more to the fore. Before that happens, you need to secure alliances, or at least friendships, lest they come down on you like a hammer."

Telatha nodded, obviously soaking in the advice, "What do you suggest then, Braeth'el? I am open to hear anything you would recommend."

Braeth'el smiled, leaning forward as if sharing a secret with the young noble. He spoke only two words, but he knew he was steering her in the right direction, steering her to the safety that she deserved. The fact that he actually wanted her to be safe went to show how charismatic she was.

"House Felo'melorn."

Telatha smiled, nodding at Braeth'el and then looking at the others again, "So be it. Let us begin our preparations then. We will take steps to begin establishing new portals, begin taking inventory of what supplies we need, and each of you shall prepare suggestions for who will be accompanying me on our expedition. We shall set forth in a few days and seek to contact this House Felo'melorn. If need be, I shall beg them to aid us. House Dayfire will not fade while I guide this ship, I promise you that."

The others all smiled, each of them rising and bowing as Telatha herself did. Braeth'el rose with the others, watching in wonder as the noble walked from the room, the doors closing softly behind her.

In that moment, he actually believed she might be able to redeem the name of Dayfire.

Shameful Secrets

Sunfire. Felo'melorn. Dawnsea. Sunhaven. The names ran over and over through Braeth'el's mind as he stumbled through the ruins and tumbled stones. Like curses that had descended upon the Sin'dorei, the Houses had directly impacted his life in many ways, mostly bad, and now it seemed they would be the end of him. He cursed bitterly as a loose stone made him trip and he leaned hard against a standing bit of broken wall. He looked down, shaking his head in disgust as his blood dripped onto the grey stones and ran into the dust.

They were coming for him. He could hear their boots scuffing against fallen rocks and other bits of debris that made up the ruins of Dayfire Spire. With the wounds he'd taken, they would likely catch him before much longer, at least if he wasn't fast. It was getting hard to see, his vision greying around the edges as his lifeblood pumped from the stab wound in his kidney. Even so, he pressed on, hoping to find that which he sought.

To think after all of my years of service, it has come to this.

He had made a crucial mistake; he had fought with the Scion of House Sunfire. Biara had not been pleased to hear his opinions about her sister, Kyliska or the recent events between House Sunfire and House Felo'melorn. She had dismissed him in a bit of a rage, and he had left to give her time to calm herself. Had he left it at that, perhaps none of this would have happened, but he'd gone and pressed the point by attempting to get to Kyliska herself to talk to her. It was this crucial error that resulted in his present situation; being hunted through Silvermoon by Biara's men as well as the enemies who had outed his identity in House Dawnsea. As a spy, he had failed, and a failed spy had little time to live in the long run.

There is one more option. I will not let them catch me if I can help it.

He'd been trained from a youth to spy for House Dayfire, which later became House Sunfire. Through all the years he'd recalled his training, he'd memorized the secrets of the House passed down to him from the older spymasters that Tel'athar Dayfire had employed. He'd been a good student, and now he prayed that within the ruins of the spire he could find one of the secrets he'd been taught long ago.

As he coughed up blood, he steeled himself for one last effort, the sound of his pursuers drawing closer. The top of the spire had fallen upon the ruins of the rest of the Dayfire holdings, the structures near the very top crushing those beneath. It was in this part of the ruined edifice that Braeth'el hoped to find his salvation. As he ran, his efforts were rewarded when he encountered a ruined arch sticking up from amongst the stones; part of the lattice of arches that had once surrounded the portal room. He darted beneath the arch, seeing the small insets where the portals had once been activated within the spire.

Behind him he heard shouts as the trail of blood he'd left was discovered, and he increased his pace, hurrying to one of the small spaces where a portal might once have stood. This one contained a statue, and had obviously not been used even in the spire's glory. With a grunt he leaned on the statue, pushing it over all the way and shattering it on the broken marble floor. With a shout he slapped his bloodstained hand on the statue's base, the word of magic he'd uttered activating spells that had been long dormant.

A portal ripped a hole in space, forming as the runes hidden beneath the statue came to life. Without waiting to see if his enemies had found him, Braeth'el hurled himself through the portal, sighing as the magic whisked him away. He didn't know where the portal lead, only that it existed and wherever it lead would be better than being hunted through the ruins of Dayfire Spire by elves that were once his allies.

His vision blurred for a moment as he was taken from one place to another, the old portal's magic still working perfectly well. With a flash of light Braeth'el rematerialized, falling forward on his knees and then collapsing on what appeared to be a cool marble floor, groaning as his wounds finally overcame him.

Through dimming eyes, he looked up, shock snapping him from the brink of unconsciousness as he realized he had appeared in a small audience chamber. His shock was mirrored on the faces of several Sin'dorei who were within the chamber, a half dozen pair of fel green eyes locking on him.

But that was not what made him gasp, what made him claw his way back up to his knees and gape with open mouthed surprise. It was not the small but richly appointed room. Not the spellcasters standing around him. It was her. It was the elf that rose from the throne that sat in the center of the room, her perfect green eyes widened as she looked him over.

He was staring at Biara Sunfire.

She walked towards him, her form graceful as she approached. He braced himself to be struck down with magic, only to feel a hand gently caress his face before tilting his chin up to look at her. As he gazed into glowing green eyes, a singular fact assaulted his dazed mind; the runes on the elf's face glowed fel green, not the light blue of arcane magic.

"You are injured, friend," the elf said softly. To Braeth'el's everlasting surprise, the obviously noble elf fell to her knees beside him, her hands gently supporting him so he didn't fall over, concern on her face. "I can aid you, but it may be painful. I am sorry."

He tried to speak, but found it difficult to breathe let alone force the words out. As he watched dully, she snapped her fingers and one of her attendants dashed off, returning a moment later with a glowing green stone. She took it in her hand, her gaze holding his steadily as she firmly gripped his shoulder, her other hand bringing the stone to his chest.

Fel magic flared around the stone, the power burning through him. He grunted in pain and felt the elf holding him squeeze his shoulder in sympathy as the fel energies torn into his flesh, knitting the worst of his hurts back together. Although the pain was exquisite for a moment, once it faded he felt much better than he had, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

"That should hold you for now," the strange not-Biara said, smiling at him. "You've had a rough time of things, and will need rest before you are well enough to travel again. I will see to it that arrangements are made for you."

"T-thank you...my Lady," Braeth'el said. For the first time in a while, he actually didn't feel the need to lie about how he felt. "I'd be gone if not for you, and I am grateful."

"No thanks are needed," the noble elf said, rising slowly. "The Sin'dorei must support one another if we are to move forward as a people. I would do the same for any in Quel'Thalas."

To his surprise, he saw his own blood on her hands and staining the elegant gown she wore. She seemed to not be overly concerned with this fact, wiping her hands on her dress. She paused, looking at the portal before speaking again, "It has been long since that has been activated. Far too long. Does it represent hope, or does it portend darkness falling upon us at last?"

As if to answer her words, the portal flickered and spat magic, forms appearing from it an instant later. Like Braeth'el, they blinked in surprise, weapons in hand as they assessed the situation. There were four of them in total, three assassins and one of Biara Sunfire's hand picked apprentices.

The apprentice  pointed at Braeth'el, triumph in his voice, "You. The game is up. You will be taken to Sunfire Estate and will meet your punishment there. Surrender yourself now."

Braeth'el opened his mouth to answer when the noble cut in, her voice firm, "This Sin'dorei is under my protection now. You will disarm yourselves at once in my presence."

The apprentice sneered at the elf, shaking his head, "This does not concern you. House Sunfire will have this elf for crimes against the Scion. Stand aside or we will take him by force."

From his position on the floor, Braeth'el saw the noble stiffen, her back ramrod straight as she glared at the intruders, "You have entered MY domain now. House Sunfire has no claim, no power here. Those who cast down our name, cast out our people, will not dictate terms to me. Know that this elf is in the custody of House Dayfire now... as are you."

The apprentice blinked in surprise, the others with him growing wary as they realized they were somewhat surrounded by potentially hostile combatants. He pointed at the noble, his voice condescending and magic forming in his hands, "And who are you to dare challenge the will of Magistrix Sunfire?"

The answer that came next would stun Braeth'el for hours to come. To his everlasting surprise, the red-haired elf glared at the apprentice, fel magic glowing brightly in her eyes and on her fingertips as she pointed at the one challenging her, "I am Telatha Dayfire, and you have illegally entered the holdings of House Dayfire. You WILL surrender to me. Now."

Gasps arose from the intruders, and they looked at each other warily. Amongst the four, the spellcaster shook his head, bringing his hands up to cast a spell at Braeth'el, "You are an imposter. This elf belongs to Magistri-"

His sentence was never finished as Telatha Dayfire pointed at him, fel magics flashing in the air. He stumbled once as the magic struck him, fel energies eating away at him from the inside. As the others watched in horror, his skin began to shrink into his body, his vitality sucked out by the vicious spell. A moment later a barely fleshed skeleton collapsed to the ground, the rest of the room dead silent.

Telatha's voice spoke into the silence, the fel runes on her face glowing wickedly as she looked at the other three elves, "I am the Scion of House Dayfire. You may choose to surrender to me, or you may choose as he did, but choose quickly for my patience grows thin. You have trespassed upon what little domain those of the true blood of Tel'athar still hold, and I will tolerate no fools in my presence."

The other three looked at each other, their weapons clattering to the marble floor of the audience chamber as they surrendered, retainers stepping forward to grab them and presumably haul them off towards some dungeon. Braeth'el simply stared, trying to come to terms with everything that had just happened in the past five minutes.

Telatha Dayfire smiled, turning towards him and again kneeling beside him, her eyes level with his, "You will be tended to, and allowed to continue your journey as you choose. I will not let the machinations of the other Houses decide my course of action. For too long I have remained trapped on this island, unable to make a move for fear of obliteration by those who have held titles that they no longer deserve. Choose as you will, friend, but you will always have sanctuary here should you desire it."

With that she rose, turning towards several of her retainers and nodding. The bowed, turning and walking over to the double doors that lead to the chamber, opening them for their Lady. In the distance, Braeth'el could hear the ocean crashing against stones, the sound almost soothing. As Telatha walked away, he called out, his voice echoing in the chamber, "My Lady!"

She paused, turning to look at him, her movements so identical to Biara Sunfire's that Braeth'el could only shake his head in wonder. When she arched an eyebrow in question, he quickly sputtered out what he wanted to say, "I will choose to stay here, my Lady. I owe you for saving my life, and...I wish to learn more."

She smiled, the look identical to another noble he knew, her musical voice containing a hint of sweetness that Biara had never shown him, "Then learn you shall. Get some rest, and we will talk again. I must convene with my advisers to discuss the portal and what it might mean for the true House Dayfire."

With that she turned and walked out of the room, the power in her stride and confidence in her tone leaving Braeth'el with little doubt that he'd just encountered one of Biara Sunfire's blood relatives. The question remained as to whether or not this would be a good thing, or a terrible thing.

Time would tell.

Memoirs of Light- Part 5

"In preparation for another trip to the North, I stopped at several of our holdings in the Plaguelands in order to make arrangements for the necessary supplies. Of course, I could not leave the region without first visiting Light's Hope for the inspiration that it can give me. I find it especially helpful to visit that place before undertaking a difficult task, as it reminds me of how much has been sacrificed by so many for our cause. It makes my own sacrifices seem easier to bear and lets me understand how each little bit adds to the whole.

While approaching this holy place, I encountered an unusual situation. It seemed that a Knight of the Ebon Blade had decided to stop and observe the chapel and our Crusaders who were working in the area. While it is not unusual for their Knights to sometimes stop by our holdings to exchange information or seek assistance with matters, it is quite strange when one stops simply to observe and understand what we are doing. In general, it is my understanding that such creatures do not tolerate the touch of the blessed ground there very well, so I was surprised when I found her lingering there.

Her name was Galidora Brightsong, which she herself admitted was a rather ironic name for a Knight of the Ebon Blade. Although I have had little contact with those of her Order, I have enough experience with them to have come to expect the somewhat dour and grim outlook and words that such a creature will speak. I say 'speak' but in actuality, the poor soul was unable to form words verbally, her throat having been clearly torn out at some point. She indicated that this was by her own hand, and I did not press the issue. It is not my place to question or judge such blighted souls, only to adhere to the Accords that joined us together once in mutual purpose. 

Interestingly enough, I feel that I could fight beside this Galidora should such an eventuality come to pass. She did not seem eager to use her weapons and ride to war, but rather she was calculating. She indicated that she applied such methods where appropriate to seek the continuation of life. I will admit that although I did not say this aloud, it made me hopeful that there is still something of a soul left in these creatures; something that can be saved or brought back into the Light one day.

Many of my fellow Crusaders and even those who follow the Light believe that such creatures should be destroyed, or should immolate themselves in order to purify their forms. I believe that this is a short-sighted view however; for how can a spirit gain redemption simply from being burned out of a corpse? There must be a reason, a purpose for why such men and women still walk the world with their own free wills. I believe that the Light yet has a path for them, a way for their very spirits to be free of the darkness that has swallowed them. Perhaps it is a blind hope, but I would prefer to hope than to risk such a possibility with harsh words and actions.

After my encounter with the undead elf, I returned to Hearthglen to complete my preparations. While there, I bumped into Fred and mentioned it to him. I recall from our conversations that he has some experience with these creatures and was curious. I was somewhat disappointed to hear him say that such an elf is beyond redemption and to rebut my suggestion that the souls of the creatures could be saved. He was adamant that I was incorrect, and it was disheartening to argue with him over the matter so I let it lie for the time being. 

We have much work left to do in this world, and there will be ample time to study this further. First we strike down the evils that actively endanger our world, then we look into ways to cure, heal, and soothe the wrongs that such evils have wrought. It will be a long road, but one that I am prepared to walk for the rest of my days. Light grant me the strength to do so for a very long time."
 ~An excerpt from the memoirs of Britanielle 'Britany' Dawnblaze, Paladin of the Argent Crusade.
 

Journal Entry- October 17th

Beckyann smiled, leaning forward to apply the brush containing the nailpolish to one of her toenails one last time, checking to make sure the black polish was just right before capping the bottle and setting it on the nightstand beside her bed. With that task complete, she leaned back against the over-sized pillows on the bed, bringing her knees up to her chest for a moment as she glanced around the room, the fabric of her dress laying around her on the top of her black silken sheets like an even blacker pool.

Her new quarters were easily twice the size of her old ones; Colonel Nis'tara had not been lying when she said officers got the best pick of the Hold. Beyond just being a bedroom, the enclosed set of quarters actually contained a bathtub set off in a side room, as well as a walk-in closet. Clearly it had once been used by one of the Cult of the Damned's living necromancers and it had all of the necessities that a living person might need; perfect for the frivolous vanities that Beckyann herself required in her room.

The center of the floor in the room had a marble inlaid motif of a skull, the circular pattern it made drawing the eye immediately. With as much space as she now had, Beckyann had been able to shove her writing desk off to one side of the room and actually had a table and chairs where she could sit and work if she felt like it, or even entertain guests...not that she'd ever have guests!

She smiled again, leaning back further into the fluffy black pillows behind her. Although she couldn't feel the material against her skin, she knew that she was surrounded by luxury and it gave her a vague sense of satisfaction. She looked up and examined the huge banner of the Ebon Blade that hung over her bed, admiring the decoration for a moment before sitting back up and reaching over to her nightstand to grab her journal.

The battered little book had seen better days. Covered with ragged leather and stamped in the center with a skull surrounded by a heart, the little book had a number of deadly wards set into the cover that would outright kill a living person and would be extremely unpleasant for any undead that might attempt to handle it. She whispered to words to unlock the wards, grabbing a pencil that had been sitting beside the journal on the nightstand.

Once the wards were unlocked, she turned the book to a fresh page, sliding her legs out in front of her a bit so she could lean it on her knees and write. She bit the tip of the pencil for a moment, chewing on it thoughtfully as she considered what she'd say. After a time, she set the pencil to paper, letting her thoughts out finally.

 This is the first time I'm writing here in some time. I fell out of practice with it, maybe because I got lazy or maybe because I just had nothing to say. Certainly years ago there'd have been nothing of interest to record in this book other than a few spells I was researching or my most recent battle. Now though, things are a little different I think. Probably for the better if I have to admit it privately here.

First off I should mention my promotion. Did it piss me off? Of course it did. Red knew I didn't want to be an officer and so did the others I suspect. But whatever, if they want to take the risk I pose to the patrols then that's their business. I'm tired of trying to convince them that I'm bad news when it comes to leading others. I'll just have to grin and bear it and hope I don't mess up as badly as I did when I'm alive. At least the Knights can take a bit more damage before they are destroyed than living men can. And I can't make mistakes like forgetting to arrange for enough food or water for them eh? So it should be easier than that ill-fated expedition I lead at least.

I will admit that the change in quarters has been nice. This place has way more room than the old place did. I mean, I've already filled up the closets but there's plenty of space in the main part of my bedchambers to put things. So there's a bright side to everything eh?

I think I'm kind of stalling as I write here, because there's something else I need to touch on. I think it'll be important in the future, either for me to look back on, or for someone else to look through this should something go wrong. It has to do with the girl, Almaria. I saw her again this evening; she returned to Stormwind for some sort of holiday from her classes.

I can't explain why I care about this. Why did I go and intervene when I saw her potentially getting in trouble? Why do I check to make sure she's attending her classes, or look in on her when she's traveling? Red would say that it was the spell she used on me, some residual effect or something. I know he worries about it; I can see it in his expression even when he doesn't say it. I don't think that's it though, because all of us, every last Knight, knows what it was like to have our will dominated by the Lich King. Although the girl Almaria did cast a similar spell on me, the idea that there would be a residual effect seems wrong. I don't, after all, feel any residual loyalty to the Lich King. Far from it, my will is as strong as it has ever been.

So if it's not a spell, what is it? Why DO I care about what she's doing? She is a living person, and not my responsibility. And yet she writes to me, and I find myself happy to receive a letter from her. And I am concerned about what happens to her, even knowing that she and I are nothing alike and that I will be here long after she's gone. Why?

Maybe she represents something that I could have had with Fred? The way she looks up to me, respects me, and listens to my advice makes me think of what could have been. What my own child would have been like. It's hard to even think of that, and I could never tell anyone else such things, but there it is, here for my journal to know and no one else. I don't think I could ever explain it to Red or the others. There's no way to put that into words really. It just is. 

And so there it is. I feel like I have to make sure the girl at least survives and learns enough not to get herself hurt by some prick that thinks he's doing the world a favor. She's in the same position I was in once, and she can become so much more than what I became. I'll do what I have to in order to ensure that comes to pass, one way or another.

I just hope that all of this is not insurmountable. The dead are not meant to be parents, and she is not really a child. I sense that she will put us all in great danger of the span of the next decade. Even so, if I've helped to save even one soul from darkness, then maybe I've made a chip in my own debt. We'll see what happens.

Going to end this here. I think I've written enough crazy things for one evening. I have to make sure to put extra wards on this. Last thing I need is everyone laughing at me or acting all concerned over what I'm doing, thinking its the remnants of that spell. 

With a sigh, Beckyann closed the book, running her hands over the emblem burned into the cover and then holding it against her chest. She shook her head, whispering the words to re-apply the wards before leaning over and slipping the book into her nightstand drawer. Getting it out on paper always helped, even if she didn't fully understand why she thought the way she did. Now that it was done, she felt a bit lighter.

With a smile, she rose from the bed and walked into her closet, looking for her shoes. A bit of shopping would help clear up the rest of her mind, she was sure of it!

The Awakening

*Several weeks ago, as the Siege of Orgrimmar begins to unfold in Durotar.*

It is said that when a person passes from life, the Light comes to claim them. It surrounds their spirit, embracing them in its brilliance and lifting it up and away. The spirit becomes one with the Light, with the very force of life that populates the universe. It is like a dream, a heaven that cannot be described by mortal words.

Just as the finality of life is met with this brilliance, so too is the time between that moment and true death met with a darkness, a loss of consciousness into which the spirit is plunged. Confused, bereft of that blessed moment and of the senses of life, it is a soup of conflicting emotions and glimpses of one's life. A haze of emotion and fear, it is blessedly short lived for most.

For some though, this moment is extended indefinitely. Lost in the mire of darkness, they struggle on, waiting for death to claim them and fearing it all the same. Assaulted by emotions and images of life, they fight against the currents, floundering without guidance. It was in this place that her spirit resided, awaiting the end of all things.

If there was one overriding thing about Devasha, it was her struggle for survival. If she had wished to idly sit and accept death, she would have allowed her beloved and her children to cut her down long ago on Argus. She would not have begun a journey that would span millennium, always seeking sanctuary against the encroaching darkness of the universe. Surrounded by a piece of that darkness, Devasha struggled on, images her life and its jagged pieces cutting her again and again.

She saw Argus, she relived the moments there, both happy and terrible. She saw Draenor. She relived her people starting anew, relived all of the moments between the two points in the terrible, wonderful journey that her life had been. Darkness threatened to choke her as she remembered the horrors that she'd seen, and yet that darkness was quickly driven back by points of light as the precious moments of happiness glowed brightly in her mind's eye.

More and more quickly the images assaulted her thoughts, each demanding her attention until she was surrounded in a cacophony of thunderous sound, the moments clashing together in an unintelligible hymn that made up her life, that made up Devasha.

In that moment, when she could stand no more, she opened her mouth and shouted at it all, “Enough! ENOUGH!”

Silence reigned, sweet, blessed silence. In that silence, Devasha willed her eyes to open, and light flowed into her. It was not THE Light, but rather ordinary, everyday light provided by crystals that were illuminating the space in which she was laying. So bright was the light to her unused eyes that it took a moment for her to even make out the vague objects a few inches from her. After a time, she came to realize it was a crystal screen that was over her; the tell-tale construction of a pod from the Exodar.

She blinked a few times, the echoes of her shout still ringing in her mind as she tried to process what she was seeing. The partially see-through crystal screen glowed with magic, symbols flashing on it as it evaluated what was beneath it. She vaguely came to realize that she was looking at a med-pod, and the fact that she was beneath it meant she had been injured. The thought was followed by wry amusement as she realized the flashing red symbols that were on the exterior of the screen probably boded poorly for her.

Her consideration of this fact was interrupted by the sound of hooves pounding on metal as someone approached the pod in which she lay. A moment later a figure peered over the edge of the pod, looking down at her in alarm. Although Devasha could barely make her out, it was clearly a priestess of her people, the look on her face making the still groggy mage believe that perhaps something amazing had happened. Quickly the priestess pressed some arcane symbols on the pod's screen and the entire assembly powered down, sliding out of the way. Blue hands reached into the pod and pressed against Devasha's shoulders, sending a flood of the Light into her.

She sighed happily, feeling the healing warmth as it eased the pains that she had not been aware she'd had until that moment. It also cleared the haze from her eyes, allowing her to see more clearly. She blinked a few times, looking up at the smiling face of the priestess leaning over her.

“Thank the Light! It's a miracle!” the priestess exclaimed, her hands coming together happily. “We did not believe you would recover.”

Devasha opened her mouth to speak, a croaking sound coming out before she was able to finally articulate some words, “W-what...happened? I...I remember being on the Exodar. Something...the engines failed! I remember there was an explosion. We were falling, falling so fast. I...I think I used some magic...my wards to protect us. After that...there is only blackness.”

The priestess nodded grimly, reaching out to rest a hand on Devasha's arm, “First, tell me. Do you remember your name?”

Devasha blinked in surprise at the question, frowning as she answered, “I am Devasha. But...how could you not know this?”

The priestess shook her head, frowning, “I am Laayna. I am pleased to finally speak to you Devasha, it has been far too long. I fear that the portion of the Exodar where you were was heavily damaged during the crash. I am sorry.”

She had not answered, but she didn't need to say it. Devasha's intellect provided the unfortunate answer that she didn't want to say aloud. There were no other survivors. All of her apprentices had perished. They had not known her name because there was no one left alive who could identify her.

Her mind changed tracks quickly. She looked up at the priestess, fear suddenly gripping her and plain to hear in her voice, “How long, Laayna? How long?”

The priestess sighed, shaking her head again, “Years, Devasha. Not so many years that we have changed as a people, but enough that you have missed momentous events.”

Devasha took a moment to process this, coming to terms with it. She'd been injured. She'd lain in a coma for Light knew how long, while her people struggled on without her. Worse, she had lain here as a burden to them, an unknown survivor who they did not know would ever awaken.

To Devasha, the universe was a simple place; a group lived or died based on their ability to anticipate the next disaster. The survivors were only as strong as their weakest link, their weakest members. She had spent countless years keeping herself and those around her prepared for the worst eventuality, and now she'd failed in that mission. She could lay idle no longer, for she had already risked everything with her weakness. The Legion could have come upon them while she slumbered, could have destroyed her people without her lifting a finger, or worse, could have taken her while she was powerless to flee.

She steeled herself, sitting up abruptly. As she rose up, the world spun around her crazily, and she was forced to grip the edges of the med-pod tightly to avoid falling over. She took a deep breath, fighting off the nausea that her tilting vision brought her.

“Devasha, you should not be trying to rise yet,” Laayna scolded gently. “We have infused your form with the Light while you lay here and your muscles will work, but they and everything else will be weak. You must give yourself time to recover.”

Devasha closed her eyes, letting the spinning room settle for a moment before she took a deep breath and opened them. It had mostly stopped now. Good enough.

“No, I have lain here long enough. There is much to be done. If you would though...can I please have some tea and something to eat. I feel famished,” she said, her mouth set.

The priestess studied her for a moment, coming to understand her resolve on the matter. After a moment she nodded, patting one of Devasha's knees and rising, “As you wish, Devasha. Rest a moment and I will return. I shall send a Vindicator to you to brief you on what has happened while you have lain here.”

With that she rose and walked away, the clatter of her hooves on the metal floor fading and leaving Devasha sitting in silence. She drew in another breath, feeling the fire that burned in every muscle in her body. She would recover and she would learn of the circumstances she found her people in before deciding her next course of action.

Minutes later the sound of someone approaching could be heard, and Devasha smiled as she turned to see an armored Vindicator walking towards her, the familiar look of his plate armor almost comforting as she realized she had not lain idle without champions watching over her. In his hand he carried a tray with a teapot, a cup, and some muffins on it. He smiled at her, setting it down on a small table beside the pod and pouring her a cup before sitting on the edge of a neighboring pod.

As Devasha drank her first hot beverage in years, she listened to the tales the Vindicator told. She learned of the triumphs and defeats of her people. Of their journey back to the world they'd been forced to flee beside new allies. Of a horrible King of death in some frozen north that had threatened the world, and of a dragon that had almost laid waste to a planet.

As she listened on, hearing the horrible tales of orcs acting as she knew they could not help but act, there was one thought that formed in her mind. As she heard the tales of mighty heroes who had stood beside her people and fought back the darkness time and again, she began to smile, coming to understand that it was here that her people had finally made their first stand. That for the first time, darkness had been sent reeling back by the righteous blows of those who would not stand for it.

In her awakening, Devasha felt the seeds of hope blossom within her for the first time in what seemed like forever.

An Important Decision

*In ancient history, Argus*

The room was supposed to be a soothing place where one slept. The gently sloped walls were a light blue color, matching the sky and designed to let the sunlight reflect within the space during the day, or the moonlight in the evening. Now though, the bedroom and it's thick bed surrounded by curtains that had been drawn back was a place of tension, of rising anxiety.

The Eredar named Devasha stood in the center of the room, her lean form draped in sheer silken robes that allowed her porcelain white skin to feel the cooler evening breeze that came from the open window. The softness of the fabric and the comfortable temperature did little to ease her though as she stood at the foot of her bed, her hooves shifting in place on the smooth marble floor.

Like many of her kind, Devasha adorned the tendrils that framed her face with golden rings. These clinked together lightly as she shook her head, the soft magical lights that illuminated the room twinkling on the gold and the smooth surface of the horns that curled from the top of her head and framed her face. She sighed, bringing a carefully manicured hand up to run through her deep blue hair, staring down at the source of her concern where it lay on the bed.

For such a momentous decision, the object was small and unassuming in appearance. A simple crystal set in some type of dark metal, the artifact glowed and pulsed with a bright green energy; a type of magic that she had never seen before despite having studied magic for longer than she could recall. Some had called it Fel energy, some had simply referred to it as the 'gift', but to Devasha's eyes it was a wild and unpredictable new thing in a world that had remained peacefully unchanged for eons. While some of the other Eredar had proclaimed it as the herald of the next era of grandeur for their civilization, Devasha had many doubts and questions about whether or not her people should take up such magic.

She stepped closer to the object, a hand reaching out to poke at the metal frame that held the crystal. Merely being near it sent a shiver up her arm, increasing her concern. It was not that she feared power, not at all, but power was something to be earned. Something to be gleaned through difficult study, careful manipulation of one's magic, and through the wisdom that such learning brought. This reeked of a shortcut, of reaching out to grab something external to oneself, and she didn't like it one bit. Like it or not though, besides for a few naysayers, most of the Eredar were partaking of this energy, including her family in the housing complex that she was in. To be part of the bold new world they hoped to shape, she would have to use the Fel energies of the crystal.

And yet...she could not. Doubts and misgivings continued to plague her, and so she stood immobile, lost in thought as the time to make the decision slipped away from her. Never one to act rashly or quickly, she waited, weighing the matter over and over again in her mind, until behind her the bedroom door opened, sliding into a recess in the wall through the magic that controlled it.

"Devasha! You have not used the artifact yet!" came the voice of Xavuus behind her. "You cannot possibly imagine what you are missing!"

Devasha turned, her silver eyes widening slightly as she took in the form of her beloved. They had all agreed that tonight would be the night, and he had kept his word on that. She could see the change in him already, see the way his form seemed larger, more powerful. His skin had begun to darken, the first hints of a reddish hue appearing here and there. All of this would have gone unnoticed though, if not for his eyes. Within them glowed the magic of the crystal, the green fire that sparkled near her on the bed.

"I...have not prepared myself yet," Devasha said slowly. The answer was calculated to give her more time to think, to give her a way to find a reason to avoid making the decision now. It was far too late however.

"Nonesense!" Xavuus declared, marching over to her. His hooves pounded on the stones, his larger form looming over her as he grinned down at her. "You must use it! Take it into yourself and feel the power that we've been missing!"

She studied him for a moment in silence, the pause communicating much. She looked down again at the crystal, shaking her head slightly, "I have misgivings, my Heart. I do not know if I can go down this path."

His laughter was almost mocking, and made her turn her head to stare into his glowing eyes as he replied, "You speak foolishly, for you have not tasted of the power! Take it up and feel its energies and all will be answered, I promise you that!"

The response increased her anxiety, and her mouth drew down to a frown, "My Heart...please, I need more time to consider it. I am not ready to take such a step."

To Devasha's surprise, he leaned forward, gripping her arm roughly, his voice no longer pleasant, "You delay when you should be doing! Take up the crystal and put an end to these pathetic doubts! You weaken yourself voluntarily with each minute you delay!"

Everything about the situation was wrong. He had never, in all their many years together, laid a hand upon her in such a way. He had never spoken roughly to her, never displayed such reckless haste or unneeded anger. It was not their way, it was not expected, and it turned her feelings from anxiety to alarm in an instant.

"You are hurting me, Xavuus," she said quietly. When he did not release her arm, and instead dug his fingers in more tightly and pushed her towards the bed, the surprise of it turned to anger. "Please...release me so that we may talk about this..."

"You will take up the crystal NOW, Devasha," he said, his voice now full of actual menace.

Hurt, upset, and not fully understanding why he would treat her this way, Devasha shook her head, looking down at the artifact and snapping her fingers. A tendril of her powerful arcane magic wrapped about the fragile crystal matrix, crushing it to a fine dust that settled over the bed. That such power would come between them, that it would sit atop the place where they made love, was unthinkable to her, and yet it had happened in that moment.

He pushed her then. Shoved her against the edge of the bed, her hooves scrambling for purchase and deep blue marks appearing on her arm where he'd bruised her. He glared at her, his tone vile, "And so you would deny your destiny, deny power. You are a weak fool, Devasha. I cannot believe I hadn't seen this before now."

Devasha had been a mage for a very long time. She had studied magic for so long, had engaged in magical experiments that could potentially be dangerous so often, that it was second nature for her to keep wards prepared for such eventualities. As she stared Xavuus in the eyes, something in the back of her mind screamed at her in warning, some little instinct that she did not know she possessed. In that fraction of a second, she murmured a single word, a word that she'd used many times when one of her experiments had failed and she needed to protect herself.

It saved her life. In less time than it would take one to blink, Xavuus sent a stream of green flames at her, the magic bending around a bubble of protective wards that shielded her body. It seared the furniture behind her, setting the bed alight and destroying smaller pieces of furniture. While the spell did not harm her, the shock of it, the fact that he had tried to kill her, was almost more than she could bear.

"Xavuus...my Heart...why?" was all she could utter.

"Because you are weak, and unworthy of joining us. Our race must be purged of those who refuse to take power when it is offered. Die, Devasha!" he shouted at her, hurling more magic at her.

Unfortunately for the newly corrupted Eredar, his grasp of his new powers were not as strong as one who had studied her art for so long. Although his spells did indeed have great power, again the flames curled around her wards, this time reflecting backwards. Half the room was consumed in a fiery explosion, blasting a great hole in the wall and sending him falling.

Devasha took a hesitant step towards him, seeing that he was still breathing. In that moment, she realized that she could not help him, that he would simply attack her again once he regained his senses. That same voice that had screamed at her to protect herself now screamed at her to flee while she had the chance. She drew in a deep breath, and then she ran, dashing through the hole in the wall and into the corridor beyond.

She did not know where she was going, she knew only that she had to escape, had to get away from those who had taken in the magic. She could feel the magical energies spiking in the complex all around her and she knew that others were taking in the power, willingly embracing what must be a most vile evil. She knew that if she stopped running, stopped to think about it, that it would drive her to immobility.

She passed many doorways, her hooves pounding on the stones as she ran, the corridor opening up ahead into the common area that joined the various parts of the complex where her family resided. As she entered the open space with its curved chairs, she skidded to a halt, seeing two figures standing there, their eyes glowing and their skin already partially red.

It was Keltuun and Taara, her son and daughter.

"Going somewhere, Mother?" Keltuun asked, his tone matching that of his father's. He grinned at her, the Fel magic glowing in his eyes as he gazed at her.

"It seems she did not take up the Gift," Taara said, shaking her head. "What a stupid thing you've done, Mother. Why couldn't you see reason? Now you cannot join us as we prosper!"

Devasha simply stood before her children, her mouth agape and unable to form all of the words she wished to say to them, unable to tell them how sorry she was for what they'd done to themselves. Behind her, she could hear the hooves of Xavuus as he ran down the corridor, eager to catch her. In that moment she felt her heart breaking as she realized her beloved and her grown children had been severed from her forever by what they'd done, what she'd refused to do.

They saw it in her eyes. She didn't need to speak it; no words were needed to convey the depths of her sorrow or the rift that had suddenly come between them. Both of them brought their hands up, Fel green fire dancing on their fingertips as they hurled deadly magic at her, intent on ending her before she could stop others from taking up the power.

Although Keltuun and Taara were fully grown, they had not had the experience with magic that Devasha had. Combined with their lack of familiarity with their new powers, this lack of experience proved to be the undoing of their spells. The flames danced around Devasha, again colliding with her wards and curling up around her. Through the crackling gout of flames, she could see them glaring at her in anger, could see the disappointment that she hadn't died from the spells.

She was left with a terrible choice; fight her own children, fight her beloved Xavuus, or die. She had no experience with combat, had never lived in anything but peace, and in that moment she realized she couldn't bring herself to do it, not now, not here. She realized she was going to die.

Sometimes, when we least expect it, we find strength within ourselves that we did not know we possess, however. Deep in Devasha's mind, primal instincts took over where her will was unable to cope, her body crying out for survival even as her mind gave up. Barely even thinking now, Devasha brought her hands up, murmuring words of magic and directing the angle of her shields up and away from herself.

The flames that her children had hurled at her curled up, colliding with the ceiling and exploding there. Flaming wreckage came down all around them, crashing into the floor as the roof above began to cave in from the blast. Devasha watched in a dazed state as her children fell back away from her, fleeing the destruction, and she shouted a word of power, her arcane magic whisking her away from the rain of fire and teleporting her a short distance to the door that lead out from the common area to the street beyond the dwelling. She stumbled out, leaving her cursing, demon-infused children behind.

Devasha ran as she'd never run in all her years. Around her she could feel the energies as they rose in the town, the other citizens either taking up the magic or discovering that their friends and families had turned on them as Devasha's had. In the back of her mind, she mourned what was happening to her people, her heartbreak coming to the fore. She shook her head, continuing to run and not knowing where to turn.

In the distance she saw something that caught her attention, snapping her out of her misery and focusing her. It was a beacon, a column of light. That others had not seen it surprised her, for it glowed more brightly to her eyes than the sun itself. In that dark moment, it represented hope, represented reprieve and safety, and Devasha could feel it calling out to her and to all of those who had chosen as she had. Crying now and not knowing what else to do, wearing only her robes and bereft of her family, she turned towards it, fleeing.

Fleeing forevermore.