Blast from the Past- Finale

She stood on the edge of the pinnacle of stone that made up the Stormspire, the warm breezes blowing her red hair and fluttering the hem of her dress and her cloak. Far below, the lush jungle that the Ethereals had created beneath the protection of their dome was bathed in the purple glow of the shielding above, the colors a beautiful blend to Biara's fel-tainted eyes.

She head him as he approached, his footsteps crunching the gravel as he walked, his steps slow and steady, as if walking towards a specific predetermined point. And perhaps he was, perhaps he was walking towards a destiny, a fate that had been changed. One that was now filled with the unknown since its moorings from time had been undone.

He paused behind her, maybe twenty yards away. She could feel his gaze on her back, but she didn't bother to turn to look at him, still staring at the forest below; a forest that had had its fate changed by the intervention of magic. When she spoke, her voice was low and unafraid, "I knew you would come."

"You know what you've done. It cannot be allowed," the voice replied. It sounded like a male Sin'dorei, but Biara knew better, knew what she would see if she turned around. He continued, as if sensing what she was thinking. "If we allowed an exception, then everything we have worked to protect would be undone. You are intelligent enough to know this, and I ask that you submit to the fate that was allotted to you."

Biara finally turned, her gaze taking in the form of a Sin'dorei dressed as a Magister might be. His guise was nearly perfect, and he would have blended in on any street of Silvermoon City except for the golden glow in his eyes. Many would not see it unless they were searching for it, but Biara knew that he was not hiding now in respect for her. For a moment, silence hung between them, a tension in the air that both recognized as conflict brewing.

"I shall not submit," Biara said finally, the wards on her right cheek beginning to glow with arcane magics. "There are many wrongs that I have yet to undo, and I will not suffer you to stand in my path. You think you are here to put an end to one mistake, but you are here at my bidding. You can submit to my will, or you can be brushed aside like the beast you are. I will leave this place however, with or without your aid."

The strange Sin'dorei tilted his head, staring at Biara hard now and a menacing tone to his voice when he replied, "You are decided then? This course is your will?"

Biara smiled, bringing her hands up as arcane magic began to glow at her fingertips. She nodded once, her voice firm, "It is my will. Let us begin."

The Sin'dorei nodded, bringing his own hands up and shouting a word of power. His form began to expand and shimmer, the magic that had created it fading as he took on his true form. Rising up until he towered over the insignificant elf that had dared to challenge him, he glared down at her with reptilian eyes.

A huge bronze dragon towered over Biara, its wings flapping as it drove its head down to destroy the elf in a single blow.

In a flash Biara was gone, the dragon's snout slamming into the ground where she had been standing, the blink spell having relocated her behind the creature before it could react. With a shout flames shot from Biara's hands, the spell slamming into the dragon's flank and sending bronze scales flying off as it burned part of the creature's hide. The dragon roared in pain, it's tail slashing out and forcing Biara to duck to avoid being beheaded.

The creature turned faster than a cat, its claws lashing out and slamming into the ground where Biara had tumbled. A mighty limb slammed down on the hapless blood elf, the ground around her shattering with the force of the blow, the impact not reaching her as the attack rebounded off of the barrier of ice that had formed in the air just above her.

The dragon quickly followed up its attack, rearing its head up and beginning to inhale to draw in enough breath to breathe a deadly stream of magic on its target. Even as it did so, Biara sprang to her feet, one of her hands coming up to her ruby red lips as she blew air across her palm. The wind of her breath ignited, turning to flames and flying up into the dragon's face and mouth as it inhaled, causing it to rear its head back and roar as the fires burned its nostrils and the inside of its mouth.

The bronze lunged forward, slamming into the ground with all four limbs as it shook off the effect of the spell, its cries echoing across the Stormspire and the shaking of its weight colliding with the stones sending Biara tumbling to her behind again. She shouted, hurling a ball of flames at the dragon, the creature forced to shield its smoldering head with its wings. The spell impacted harmlessly against the leathery barrier, flames fanning out around the dragon as it roared again and surged upward, its head lunging down and its jaws snapping at Biara.

The Magistrix rolled, narrowly avoiding being impaled on the razor sharp teeth of her foe. Dust rose around her as she struggled to her feet and dove foward, one of the dragon's claws slamming into the ground behind her. She shouted a word of power and ice flared around her, freezing the very ground solid and entrapping the dragon's talons in a crust of ice that adhered to the rock.

The creature roared, drawing in a quick breath and sending a dizzying spray of magic directly into Biara's fleeing back. She shuddered as her wards struggled to contain the power, the hot breath flowing around her and narrowly avoiding the effect of aging her to dust. In a flash her ice barrier shattered, bits of razor sharp ice flying in all directions as she tumbled to the ground.

Behind her, the dragon shook its paw free finally, blood flowing from wounds where the scales had been ripped free by the ice. With an almost apologetic tone, the dragon shook its head, its voice booming out, "I am sorry, Magistrix, I truly am, but your time has come to an end."

He uttered the words to a spell, magic flaring out and slamming into Biara's body, a spell that would freeze her in place in time such that he could kill her at his leisure. She shuddered, slowing to a halt as the beast loomed over her, looking almost sorry as he drew in a great breath, preparing to burn her to cinders.

In that moment Biara stirred, the same magic that had pinned her to this place in time causing the dragon's spell to fail. She pointed up at the creature, a bolt of burning hot flame slamming into the dragon's chest and causing it to fall backwards with a roar of pain. Quickly Biara rolled, coming to her feet and attempting to dodge the dragon's thrashing.

Unfortunately, the Magistrix was not fast enough, the dragon's tail coming around and slamming into her midsection, forcing the air from her lungs and hurling her ten feet away to land in a crumpled heap. Biara gasped for air, a bit of blood running from a cut on her lip as she struggled to sit up. A shadow loomed above her as the dragon stood over her, looking down on her and shaking its head, looking worse for wear.

"Rest in peace, Magistrix Biara Sunfire," the dragon intoned, bringing one of its claws up. Time seemed to slow as the claw began to descend, and Biara stared up at her death defiantly as it approached, not wishing to look away in her final moment. 

Halfway through the descent of the dragon's claw, a massive ball of fire flew in from the dragon's flank, slamming into its side in a catastrophic explosion of flames. The creature roared as hundreds of its scales flew off, the magic burning it with deadly heat and throwing it sideways, the pyroblast having nearly pierced all the way to its heart.

Biara blinked in utter shock, her head whipping around to stare in wonder at the figure standing in the distance. There, at the edge of the clearing where they fought, Biara's past self stood, a battlestaff in hand and her cursed blonde hair fluttering in the wind of the heat that her spell had generated. The head of her staff glowed with brilliant arcane light, and she glared at the creature where it lay on its side.

"Don't ever touch me, dragon," Past Biara intoned menacingly.

The creature wheezed, thrashing again as it tried to get to its feet unsteadily, blood pouring from wounds on its side. It glared, staring down the distant figure and growling, "This is not your fight, nor your place in time. I cannot slay you, but you must understand that her existence here, what she has done, is wrong. It cannot be allowed."

Past Biara grinned, stepping closer, magic building on her fingertips as she replied, "Dragons do not tell me what is right or wrong. You chose poorly when you decided to challenge me, beast. Past, present, or future, I loathe your kind and you will serve your purpose or die and serve it anyway."

The dragon roared in fury, turning abruptly and lashing out with more of its deadly breath weapon. Biara shouted, her blink spell transporting her from the path of the magic and near to where Past Biara stood. In unison both past and present Biara shouted, and suddenly there were eight copies of Biara standing amongst the scorched stones, four with blonde hair and four with fire red hair.

The dragon roared again, lunging at the crowd of Biara's that stood facing it, but with two opponents and more than a half dozen copies to contend with, it could not locate its target. Flames spat out from amongst the crowd. Ice fell from the sky, pelting its already damaged hide, and arcane spells slashed into its flesh.

Despite its size, despite its power, the creature could only take so much. As spells slammed into it, it began to falter, falling to the ground in a heap of half burned, half frozen scales and reptile flesh, its last dying twitches setting the ground to shuddering.

Biara stood over the creature, sending one last bolt of deadly ice into its eye socket to put it to rest at last. When she turned, Past Biara stood staring and her, studying her closely.

"You will return with the magic afforded you by the creature's remains," Past Biara stated, knowing she was correct. "Use the heart, it will work best."

Biara smiled and nodded, "Of course, that was my...our...plan all along. Although unfortunately I do not have anything to cut it with, so this may take a while."

Past Biara smiled, stepping forward and removing a spellblade from her belt. She handed it hilt first to Biara, nodding at her, "Take this. It will cut through the flesh easily."

Biara's eyes widened as she took the spellblade in hand, realizing it was one she had lost long ago in the fall of her spire. She turned it over and over in her hands, remembering it and smiling, "This...does not belong in my time. If I take it..."

"Then it will be both a part of your time and not," Past Biara finished for her. "Meaning that whatever foe you face then...and I know you are facing some foe as I can tell by the look on my own face...that foe will have no way to defend against the point of this weapon."

Biara grinned, bending over the corpse of the dragon and beginning to cut away the scales and flesh there. She nodded as she worked, her voice pleased, "And then they will find that their hearts are as vulnerable as this one."

With that, she plunged her hand into the side of the dragon's corpse, her nails digging into and then ripping free the organ she sought; the dragon's heart. With the heavy, bloody trophy in hand, she turned towards her past self, nodding her thanks.

"Fight well, and make them pay for daring to cross us," Past Biara said.

Biara grinned, holding the bloody dragon's heart up in one hand, the spellblade held in the other, "Oh, I will...I assure you that they will be very sorry when I return."

With that, Biara plunged the spellblade into the dragon's heart, intoning words of magic designed to shield her with temporal energies. Using the heart of a bronze dragon, a master of such magic, she empowered her own spell, her magics reaching far into the future. In the back of her mind, Biara heard the faintest echo, and she focused on it.

It grew in intensity, the sound rising up to become the sound of Kyliska shouting her name in despair somewhere in a future that had not come to pass yet. The spell traveled through the bracelets the two sisters wore, surrounding Biara and giving her a time and place to focus on with her magic.

Fierce energy began to glow around Biara, and her past self stepped back, shielding her eyes as it enveloped her. In a flash of brilliant light, Biara was gone, whisked away to her sister's call in a time far in the future.

Past Biara grinned, turning away from the corpse of the dragon, her voice a whisper in the silence, "My will be done."

Suffer Not, Kyliska

Novae awoke on the cot, her eyes half-lidded as she took stock of her situation. She had scheduled herself for a double shift of guard duty within Sunfire Estate to ensure that the guard patrols were operating efficiently. Between patrols she'd had two hours to catch a quick nap; more than enough time for the veteran soldier, and she had gone to one of the rear armory rooms where cots were set up for commanding officers and extra guards to rest at such times.

For a moment, she lay perfectly still, her entire body tense as if listening to something. She was not sure why she was awake, but over her many years of battle she'd developed almost a sixth sense for anomalies around her. She knew better than to mistrust her honed experience, and so she lay perfectly still as if still asleep, trying to sense what had triggered her concern.

Perhaps it was the strange silence that had descended over the corridors beyond the small armory room, or maybe it was the unusual chill in the air that seemed to flow from beneath the door. Regardless of the source, the longer that Novae waited, the more sure she was that something was amiss. She ever so slowly began to move her hand beneath the thin blanket that covered her, her eyes still mostly lidded as if in sleep.

There was a slight shuffling sound outside the door to the armory room. It was the only warning that Novae got before something large kicked the door in, sending the wooden barrier to swinging wildly and banging against the doorframe. A dark silhouette filled the doorway for just a moment before it took the shape of an armored warrior charging across the room, a two handed blade held high and glowing with foul blue magics.

The attacker, a death knight, got the surprise of his unlife as he brought his runeblade down to slay the 'sleeping' captain. Even as the blade descended on his supposedly startled and helpless victim, Novae was already moving, one arm tossing the blanket aside as her other arm brought her sword up. She braced it with both hands and met the blade with her own, parrying it across her armored chest.

The death knight stumbled backwards as Novae thrust her blade upward, forcing his runeblade away from hers. Like a cat she slid sideways out of the bed, one leg sweeping low and knocking into his, causing him to stumble further and flail away from her. It bought her the time she needed to get to her feet, and she grinned as the fight began in earnest.

Death knights were extraordinarily powerful opponents, with magically augmented strength and a host of deadly spells available to them. Even still, Novae's undead opponent found himself surprised as she gleefully began wailing away at him. What she lacked in strength compared to him, she made up in sheer rage and agility, her blade striking at him again and again and forcing him to parry the blows rather than take the offensive. After a few moments of this, his armor had begun to look worse for wear and he'd been forced back several feet across the room.

Realizing he was losing, the death knight charged forwards, shoulder checking his lighter opponent and sending Novae crashing into a wall. Her armor made an awful squealing sound as it crashed into the hard surface, and the death knight followed up by thrusting his blade directly into her face.

Unfortunately for the death knight, Novae was not really harmed within her steel carapace, and she dropped down below the blade as it slammed point first into the stone over her head. With a grin on her face she swung her blade hard, slamming it into the death knight's leg and sheering through the armor. The creature tumbled sideways, black ichor spewing from its armor as it fell over, and Novae gave her opponent no respite as she whirled around, her blade intersecting the creature's neck as it fell, beheading it.

As her undead opponent fell to the floor, lifeless at last, Novae smiled, stabbing her blade's point through its armor and into the space where its heart would be. She then rose and brought one of her armored boots down on the creature's skull over and over until it was crushed; it never hurt to be thorough when dealing with the undead after all.

With her task complete, Novae wiped her blade on the creature's cloak and sheathed it before looking him over. She frowned as she realized he had no insignia on him to identify who he was.

"No emblem of the Ebon Blade, no scourge-stone," she murmured. "Not a Knight of the Ebon Blade, and not a random scourge attack. Undead assassin. It's the only answer."

With this in mind, Novae reached out to a nearby weapon rack, taking a wickedly bladed halberd from amongst the other weapons and proceeding into the hall. As she had already suspected, the hallway was filled with a cool mist from the use of recent necromantic magics, and she could see several crumpled forms laying on the floor along the way. Worse, some of the lanterns in the garrison area had been extinguished, and further down the corridor she could see shambling guardsmen who had obviously been turned into the undead moving slowly along. Beyond them, another dark, armored figure was continuing up the hallway.

Novae gave the situation little thought, a grin crossing her face as she began her charge, her pointed weapon extended in front of her. She dashed through the slowly moving, newly created undead, roughly shouldering them out of her way as she ran. Ahead of her, the target of her wrath had only a moment's warning to turn and see her approaching before the full momentum of her charge drove the pointed end of the polearm through his sternum, pinning him to the wall.

He tried to speak, black ichor gushing from his mouth as he thrashed against the constraining force of the weapon in his chest, but Novae didn't really care to hear what he had to say. The death knights had entered her garrison area, had slain her men, and they were going to die. It was that simple really. With a brutal twist she yanked the weapon free and then plunged it into his neck, sidestepping an attempt by the creature to bring its blade up to slash her.

"Always remove the head, that's what we learned back in the city," Novae murmured cheerfully, twisting her weapon again and doing just that. She retracted the long handled weapon and then deftly spun it around her torso, using the pole to increase the momentum of the weapon's head until it whirled around her. The bladed edge struck several of the slow moving zombies at neck height, and three more corpses fell to the floor. Novae abruptly stopped the weapon's spin before jabbing it forward into the chest of the last zombie, dropping it amongst its companions and leaving her alone in the silent corridor atop a pile of corpses.

Her head jerked up as she heard screams coming from a nearby stairwell, and she knew instantly that the attack was far from over. She dashed past her victims, running towards the sounds of fighting and yelling ahead. As she passed through a doorway and into one of the estate tower's main spiraling staircases, she caught a glimpse of her guards battling what looked like two more death knights and a number of house servants that had been turned into zombies. The death knights were fighting to prevent the guards from moving up the stairwell, and alarms immediately triggered in the back of Novae's mind.

She grabbed one of the nearest soldiers, a sergeant, and barked orders at him, "You have to get this stairwell clear NOW! They're going after Lady Sunfire! Go down to the eastern garrison and if it hasn't been compromised, bring that entire force here. You're in charge until I return. I'm going to try to circumvent them before its too late!"

Even as the soldier nodded, the tower was rocked by a distant explosion. It seemed that the attackers had begun to do battle with Biara's apprentices, meaning that they were further up the tower than Novae would have preferred. It was clear that they had made much progress by killing and then raising their victims as quietly as possible, slowly filling the lower floors with undead. Before the sergeant could leave, Novae grabbing him by the arm one more time, "Nevermind what I said. Go and get the Blood Knights. We're going to need holy magic to clear the lower floors. I'll be with Lady Sunfire!"

With that Novae dashed away, leaving the beleaguered guards to their battle. She ran into a room stemming off of the main corridor and passed through it to the balcony beyond. This particular floor was only the second story of the structure, and she looked up above, seeing the lights of Kyliska's chambers far above. The tower face was smooth plaster and would be impossible to climb without a rope.

Or handholds.

With a grin, Novae tossed her polearm away, reaching to her belt and pulling a pair of brass knuckles. She slipped them on and then began to punch a hole in the wall. Satisfied with the damage after a moment, she grabbed, punching another hole above the first, slowing moving her way up the side of the tower handhold by handhold.

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

Kyliska was in dire straits, and she knew it. The enemy had come flooding through her doors on the heels of Astariel, and awoken her from a troubled sleep. Not one to be unprepared, Kyliska had grabbed a sword that she kept near to hand at all times and had pushed the young Sin'dorei child behind her, bravely standing against three death knights as they burst into her room. The corridors beyond were filled with the sounds of fighting and the echoing clash of blades as the assassins made their attempt on her life.

The death knights had tried their magic first of course, bathing half her room in a frigid cold and attempting to slash into her with death magic. Light flared, burning away the spells and shielding Kyliska and her young charge. Wearing only a nightgown and standing on the frozen remains of her bed, Kyliska struck back, her Light lashing out and burning one of the unholy creatures to ash as it filled him with her power.

The other two death knights surged forwards, their blades rising up to meet Kyliska's, metal clashing against metal as she struggled to maintain her footing while barefoot on the frozen sheets. Although Kyliska would not surrender, her arm began to ache almost immediately from the sudden use and she knew that she couldn't hold them long. She parried blow after blow, being forced back with Astariel clinging to her calf as she desperately tried to defend herself, her undead Sin'dorei opponents grinning beneath their black helms.

When Astariel was pushed into the headboard and let out a squeal, Kyliska knew that it was over; she'd run out of room to retreat, and her opponents knew it. The advanced slowly on each side of the bed like predator animals, stalking their victim. They brought their blades up, prepared to deliver the inevitable blows.

Neither of the attackers could ever have anticipated what happened next. From seemingly nowhere, Kyliska's bedroom window shattered inward, an armored form tumbling through the shards of glass and landing with a metallic clamor in a heap next to the bed. From the broken glass a Sin'dorei rose, the grin on her face in stark contrast to the bits of glass sticking out of her skin here and there. Almost gleefully she roared, her blade coming up and forcing one of the death knights to turn in a hurry to parry what would have been a lethal blow.

It was his undoing. As he attempted to fend himself off from the Kyliska's unexpected reinforcement, Kyliska's blade slid into his back, holy magics burning a fiery trail through his heart. The undead creature screamed, the noise cut short as Novae's blade beheaded him, spattering dark ichor across the floor and bed.

The second death knight growled and shouted, one of his companions in the hallway turning towards the sound and then pointing at Novae. Dark magics wrapped around the warrior, yanking her across the room and into the corridor beyond. The death knight in the hallway smirked before slamming the door shut, leaving Kyliska to her fate.

"I'm sorry Lady Sunfire, but I'm afraid that victory will not be yours today," the death knight growled, hopping lightly onto the bed and advancing on her. "Fear not though, you will still walk this world as one of us, a puppet controlled by our strings. We will ensure that House Sunfire is run the way it is supposed to be run."

He lashed out, his blade connecting with Kyliska's hard enough to make her cry out from the pain in her wounded arm. She grit her teeth, shaking her head, "I'll never serve you. I don't think you know who the fel you're dealing with. I'll fight you to the end."

The death knight laughed, grinning, "But if you do that, then I will kill the child as well. Surrender now to the inevitable, and we'll let her live."

Kyliska paused, her eyes widening in horror as she felt the little girl gripping her left begin to panic. Memories flashed through her mind of the girl's first death, of the death of her own unborn child. Her blade wavered in her hand, her voice bitter, "You wouldn't..."

"We will," the creature hissed. "Surrender now and spare her your fate. Unless you wish her to be one of our slaves in undeath."

Kyliska's mouth opened and closed, searching for the right words even as the creature advanced. Just as she was about to answer, the door to her bedchambers exploded inward, the wood splintering from a blow that had been delivered from the outside. The shattered barrier fell inwards and crashed to the floor, exposing the corridor beyond.

Novae stood in the doorway, a grin on her face. She and the corridor beyond her were entirely spattered with gore and black ichor, the evidence of a brutal massacre that had just taken place in the narrow space.

Not a drop of it was Novae's.

With an almost lustful sigh, Novae stepped over several severed limbs that were in her way, taking care not to slip on the blood that was everywhere, her footsteps making an almost final booming sound as she walked into the suddenly silent room.

The death knight blinked in surprise, completely taken back by the sight of the gore-covered warrior. His eyes widened as she pointed her blade at him, her free hand beckoning him as if to dance. He growled, whirling to bring his blade up, the weapon spinning towards Kyliska's throat.

It was met in the air by Kyliska's blade, her face contorted into rage, her eyes blazing with the power of the Light. Golden wings seemed to sprout from her back as holy Light flowed around her, "I hope that whoever created you can hear me right now. I hope that they can understand that they've failed, and that I will not suffer fools and assassins. My sister may be gone, but the enemies of House Sunfire need to realize one thing."

She whirled, bringing her blade around and into the death knight's side. He tried to parry and his blade shattered as holy Light surged through the paladin's weapon. He gasped as the blade tumbled from nerveless fingers, Kyliska standing over him in nothing but her nightgown, but armored with the Light itself nonetheless.

"I'm Lady Sunfire now. As my sister used to say to her enemies before they died, my will be done."

Kyliska brought her blade down, the holy weapon slamming into the death knight's helm and shattering the metal and the skull beneath. The creature howled once as it was burned to ash, the dust-filled armor tumbled away and off the bed with a clatter.

The room was still, with only Kyliska's panting breath making a sound. She looked up and Novae met her gaze, two almost identical grins breaking out as they stared at one another.

"That was fun," Novae purred, flicking blood from her blade before sheathing it.

"It was....it really was," Kyliska said with a smirk. "It's going to be even more fun once we find out who was responsible, because they are going to wish they had never been born."

Novae's grin widened and she brought a hand to her heart, saluting Kyliska orc-style, "As you wish, Lady Sunfire. Your will shall be done."

Kyliska grinned and set her blade down, picking up the frightened eight year old that was still clinging to her leg and watching as her guard captain turned and left, leaving a bloody trail of boot prints behind her. It would take a while to clean up, but whoever had just attempted Kyliska's assassination had made a critical mistake. The attack looked like a scourge invasion, and in Eversong that meant that she had the right to requisition more troops from the city to see to the defense of their ancestral forests.

Someone was going to pay once those troops were trained.

How to Keep Good Subordinates

The room was dark, lit by only a few candles placed strategically around the edges of the large stone bathing pool. A few of the candles were clumped together and placed on a stand near a second, golden stand that held an open book in place. The book was worn, with many pages earmarked as if it had been read over and over again which was not far from the truth. A book of strategies, it was one of Novae's favorite classic novels to study, and she often would read a chapter by candlelight before relaxing in a hot bath.

One of the luxuries that one gave up while on a campaign was the ability to bathe regularly, and certainly the ability to bathe in burning hot water that would nearly scald one's skin. It was almost a sinful delight for Novae to feel the hot liquid around her, and she sighed contentedly as she sank deeper into the steamy water, the bubbles on the surface coming up to her neck. In the background an enchanted music box played the music of a quartet of violins, the sound low and pleasant and helping to further relax House Sunfire's guard captain.

It was rare for Novae to get such time to herself. Most of her life was dedicated to preparing for or engaging in war, and such luxuries that many other Sin'dorei enjoyed regularly were not to be had in her rough lifestyle. Whether she was attending to the logistics of those troops she been put in charge of, seeing to the maintenance of the vast array of weapons she owned, or actually out on a campaign, she was frequently busy and no longer enjoyed the luxuries that her station would once have given her.

It was, of course, possible for her to assign others to the many duties that occupied her time. She could step away whenever she wanted to go and purchase fine dresses or attend balls, but the fact of the matter was that she saw her duties as her responsibility, and beyond that, her profession. She was not just a soldier, not just a warrior of Quel'Thalas, she was a professional soldier. One whom others could look to for guidance when push came to shove. She was proud of what she did, and so she gave herself little respite, at least in terms of totally disconnecting from her duties.

She sighed again, closing her eyes and letting the heat soak into her body, listening to the music and pondering the book she'd just read. Predictably in House Sunfire, such peace and serenity was not to last long, and after only five minutes her bath was interrupted by loud pounding on the door.

For a few moments, Novae elected to ignore the banging, seeing if the person would go away. When they persisted, she mentally rolled her eyes and yelled across the room, "What the fel do you want? I can't hear you through the Light-forsaken door so come in and report!"

The door opened hesitantly and one of her Blood Knight sergeants came into the room quietly, mumbling something that she still could not hear. With a sigh of exasperation, she brought her hands up and clapped them, silencing the magical music. She brought a leg up and wrapped her toes around the faucet to the bath, cutting off the trickle of water that was adding to the noise.

"What the fel do you want? Can you not see I'm busy?" Novae grouched, staring the sergeant down. Despite her gruff tone, he was actually one of her favorites. Tall, blonde, faithful to the Light and not too bright, he had all of the qualities that she liked in her Sin'dorei soldiers and none of the faults.

The object of her intense scrutiny shuffled closer to the edge of the bath, and Novae smirked as she caught him attempting to see through the fragile layer of bubbles that floated on the surface of the water. He gave her a salute by bringing his hand to his heart, orc-style, before reporting. "Novae, the replacement saddles we requisitioned for the chargers have been delayed. The leatherworkers are saying it's going to be another two weeks before they have the supplies needed to fill the order. I tried to find alternate sources but there are none to be had. The war's used up a lot of material over the past few months."

It was not uncommon for the soldiers of House Sunfire to refer to Novae by name, and in fact it was something she encouraged since it allowed them to view her more as one of their companions than a commander. It was not the way he addressed her that set the frown to her face and the irritation to her voice, "We need to ensure that the entire battalion is ready for battle. Lady Kyliska may need us at a moment's notice, and I'll not have fifteen of her best fighters out of the battle because they couldn't get saddles of all things. No, you'll have to requisition them from our contacts in Orgrimmar. Get those materials here right away and get the leatherworkers working on it."

The Blood Knight sighed, looking distraught before nodding. Novae caught the look on his face and deftly flipped herself over in the water beneath the bubbles, floating to the edge of the large bathing tub and leaning against it's edge with her arms crossed before her chest. She smiled up at him, studying him, "You do realize I don't want you to personally go to Orgrimmar, right? Now that we're home you can send one of Lady Biara's old apprentices to go with a spell. It'll take like an hour."

It was clear from the way the other Sin'dorei perked up that he had not considered this idea at all. Novae's grin widened as she saw him smile, and she shook her head slightly.

At least he's nice to look at. And good with his blade.

Indeed, this very sergeant had stood back to back to her in a burning tower for almost an hour while they fended off Kor'kron reinforcements at the siege of Orgrimmar. He was quite good with his blade and definitely reliable in a fight. It was one of the reasons Novae kept him under her; she ensured that her commanders knew their work well.

"As you command then, Novae," the blonde Blood Knight replied. "I'll have those saddles repaired as quickly as possible. We'll not let Lady Kyliska down."

Novae grinned before she suddenly reached up and grabbed the front of the Blood Knight's tabard, pulling him down abruptly. He fell to his knees by the side of the bath, one arm plunging into the water by accident. For a moment only, he had a scowl on his face as he realized his clothing and uniform had just gotten soaked. That was before he realized that Novae's face was inches from his, and that her arms were no longer crossed in front of her body.

She smiled before pressing her lips to his, enjoying a passionate kiss with him before gently pushing him away and sliding back into the water, "I knew I could count on you. Now go about your work and if you get this done as I've asked, I'll give you a...commendation...later."

He grinned at her before rising a little unsteadily to his feet, saluting her again and hurrying out of the room. Novae smirked and then returned to her place in the center of the bath, submerging most of her body in the scalding hot water. Her hands came up, clapping together and causing the violin music to resume.

She'd gotten in trouble numerous times before for fraternizing with her underlings. Some Houses didn't allow it, some chapters of Blood Knights found it scandalous. She couldn't be bothered to give a damn really. The men she fought beside risked their lives just as she did, and they all had tensions and needs just as she did. Those Knights she fought beside would do anything for her, risk their lives for her, and now and then perhaps even love her. And in return, she would love them as her charges, love their spirits and fire, and she would do as she damn well pleased. They knew that she would die for those who gave their all in battle, and they would give her the same.

When Biara Sunfire had hired Novae, she'd known about the Captain's habits, about how she lead battalions to war, and she had hired the Sin'dorei because Novae got results. Because she was a professional. Because in the end, if that Sergeant were to betray House Sunfire, Novae would just as soon gut him as kiss him.

Loyalty was priceless.

A Typical Bar Outing

The sun was setting over Quel'Thalas, both literally and symbolically. In the distance, roaring fires consumed parts of Silvermoon City, the once mighty spires there crumbling in the city's center as the enemy army laid waste to every living thing in its path. 

On the outskirts of the city, the beleaguered survivors fought on, desperate to break free of the endless tides of undead that washed over them. It was a rout, and yet they could not afford to turn and run lest the few remaining civilians trapped amongst them perish as well. And so they fought, block by bitter block, through burning homes and down avenues filled with makeshift blockades and choked with the bodies of the dead, and still the undead came on, relentless in their quest to exterminate all life.

Novae fought amongst those who were withdrawing, her weapon a spear that she'd managed to snatch up from a fallen spell breaker. Around her other defenders fought with blade and spell, each in their own way and none of them organized as an army might be. The time for organized resistance was far past. 

For a moment, the fighting paused, a lull in the constant death that allowed more of the survivors to slip away from the lines, to flee for their lives. Novae stayed where she was, stayed with those few who were brave enough to face not only death, but enslavement in undeath as well. Without their stand, there would be no survivors at all.

The undead came again, a black mass of rotted corpses and festering abominations that had no end. Wearily the defenders brought their weapons up and felled more of the creatures, each minute taking the lives of more of those who remained.

It was Novae's first, and likely last, battle. Trained from a young age by her father, she fought bitterly, feeling a rage building within her. She focused entirely on the task at hand, mechanically cutting down a zombie here, or crushing the bones of a skeletal warrior there, trying not to recall the fact that it was highly likely that everyone she ever knew or loved now walked amongst the armies of the enemy.

The rage grew, and so too did the power of her swings. Now a skeleton crumbled to dust as the flat of her spear smacked it apart. Here a zombie's head was detached by the razor sharp edge, Novae's warcries echoing over the groaning of the undead hordes. Around her, the other defenders took heart, their blows falling true and driving back the undead, their little cluster of defiance buying precious time for those behind them.

But it was not to be; Quel'Thalas was doomed and their efforts only delayed the inevitable. A mass of skeletal archers gathered in the distance, their hollow bones rattling as they took up position and drew necromantically created bowstrings back. In that final moment, many of the defenders broke and fled, knowing they would be cut down by the deluge of arrows.

Novae stood atop a mound of corpses, roaring defiantly at the undead horde, her weapon raised high. If they fled, they would only be struck in the back with arrows, their shame visible for all eternity as they roamed as mindless undead. It was little consolation, but at least she would stand firm until the end.

The archers let loose their deadly ammunition, the shafts flying up into the sky and darkening the last rays of sunlight that sparkled across a dying land. In her final moment, Novae stared at the sun, drinking in the last taste of life as death rained down upon her. And then everything went black.

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

Novae jerked and gasped as she came back to reality, shaking off the terrible memory after a moment. She looked around the bar of the Wayfarer's Inn to see if anyone had noticed her sudden motion before reaching out to grab the shot glass in front of her. In one smooth motion she downed the potent drink, her third for the evening, enjoying the warm feeling of it in the pit of her stomach and the pleasant way the room tilted for a moment before righting itself.

She was off duty for the evening, which meant that she could do as she pleased and what she most pleased was to get roaring drunk. She'd had a good campaign, and had lead the Blood Knights of House Sunfire well. The group had earned much honor in the battle, and she was satisfied with a task well done. A little celebration was in order, both at the tavern and later back at the estate in Eversong Woods. Novae was an opportunist with such things whenever possible.

As she was about to ask the bartender for another round, she felt an elbow collide with her back rather abruptly, bumping her forward. She glared as she turned her head, seeing three Sin'dorei walking along the row of barstools. They came up to a patron sitting beside her and roughly shoved him from his chair, laughing as the drunken elf tumbled to the floor. The elf that had bumped Novae settled into the seat, while what she assumed were his goons settled into positions on either side of him, leaning against the bar. He shifted in position, about to order a drink, when Novae's eyes caught on something at his collar.

A House Dawnsea Captain's rank pin.

Novae's eyes nearly dilated as her stare bore into the shiny piece of metal. Within, she could feel the engines of her rage slowly igniting and beginning to churn, the beast that she kept within her starting to strain against its restraints. With a grin on her face, she rose from her barstool, walking unsteadily towards the three elves and nudging one of the goons out of the way.

Staring down at the Captain, she grinned, shaking her head, "Don't have too many manners, do you? It's a shame what kind of trash Dawnsea is elevating through the ranks these days."

The elf she had addressed blinked in shock, his eyebrows shooting up so far that Novae nearly laughed right in his face. He rose slowly, deliberately taking on a threatening stance. He was slightly taller than her, and he scowled down at her, "What did you just say, wench?"

Novae grinned, her stare meeting his without fear, "Ears don't work too well either, eh? Pretty sad state of affairs for that House of yours."

Around her the other patrons shifted uncomfortably, sensing the growing tension. The Dawnsea Captain's goons also shifted, moving away from the bar in case they had to intervene. For a moment there was a tense silence between the two before the Captain abruptly brought his hand up and backhanded Novae hard across the face. Her head rocked, her short black hair whipping around and hiding her face from view for a moment as she bowed her head.

Blood dripped from a cut on her lip. She could feel it, taste it as she ran her tongue across the cut. The coppery taste was like lighter fluid sprayed over a fire, her entire body warming to the sensory input and the stinging pain that came with it. She shivered once, a smile breaking out as she licked the blood again, her head tilting up so she could stare at the captain with one eye through the hair hanging over her face, "Baby, if you wanted to play you should have just asked in the first place. You're a fine piece of meat but I hope you know what you're getting yourself into."

The other elf looked scandalized for a moment and abruptly brought his hand up to strike Novae again. This time however, he was far too slow as her right hand whipped a bottle up from the bar and brought the glass object rather forcefully down on his skull. The glass shattered and the Sin'dorei's eyes began to roll up in his head as he slid towards the floor. It happened so fast that his two goons didn't even have time to comprehend that a fight had broken out.

As the elf fell to the floor, Novae grinned down over him, her voice a husky whisper, "That's right, on your knees now if you want to play rough."

A second later a patron behind Novae grinned and hopped up on his barstool, his drunken voice echoing through the room, "BAAAAAAAAR FIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!"

Pandemonium broke out as patrons sprang to their feet. Several struck out at each other, House conflicts broiling over in a second into physical confrontation. Behind Novae, one of the goons grabbed her by her hips and tried to hoist her into the air to throw her, even as the first goon charged over his unconscious boss and right into her kicking boots.

Struck in the face, the first goon collided abruptly with Novae, his weight knocking her backwards and adding to her own weight to overbalance the Sin'dorei that had tried to lift her up. With Novae's thrilled laughter echoing out as they fell, the three tumbled to the floor, barstools flying overhead as some of the patrons began to launch projectiles at each other.

In the tangled mass of bodies on the floor, the two Sin'dorei began attempting to punch Novae, even as she used her boots to brutally kick one of them in his crotch. She laughed again, rolling on top of one of her victims as the other pummeled her with blows to the side, her drunken stupor making her ignore what would probably be a number of serious bruises in the morning, "You guys are actually pretty fun. It's a shame I'm going to have to break your faces."

The elf beneath her attempted to squirm free and Novae cheerfully started punching him in his face over and over, completely ignoring the other goon who had elected to stop punching her in favor of getting to his feet to grab her neck. So enraptured was she by the sight of the elf's blood on her knuckles that she didn't notice her second opponent's moves until he had an arm around her neck.

He tipped his weight over on her, driving her off her victim and slamming her face into the bar floor. Around her she could see other elves engaged in a general melee, the bar fight having spread to all corners of the bar now. The noise was almost enough to drown out the ringing in her ear from where her head had contacted the floor.

"I'll teach you a lesson, bitch!" the Sin'dorei pinning Novae growled. She merely grinned as he attempted to grasp at the hair on her head to slam her head into the floor again. As he gained a grip, she delicately and gently guided her head towards his thigh, her teeth sinking into the flesh beneath the fabric.

He howled, rolling back off her as she rose up with a grin on her face. Above him now as he grasped at his wounded leg, she brought her boot down on his stomach and then proceeded to kick him over and over, enjoying the sound of her foot contacting his flesh.

"I've really learned so much from you," Novae mocked as she kicked him. "Thank you so much for the lesson!"

She had to duck as a glass bottle hurtled through the air, shattering on a table behind her. Now that the three elves were practically comatose on the floor, her fight was over and she realized the escalating brawl was going to draw attention soon. She scanned the crowd and quickly caught the eye of one of the other House Sunfire soldiers that had been out drinking in the tavern. He gave her a nod before wading into the crowd to gather up the rest of Kyliska's men.

As a group they pushed their way through the fist-fighting patrons, making their way out of a back exit just as the city's Blood Knights burst in through the front entrance and began clubbing unruly drunks into submission to bring order to the chaos. Outside in the red and gold plaza beyond the inn, Novae and her men grinned and laughed, each recounting their tales of fighting within the tavern.

Novae looked back at the dark opening of the tavern and grinned, her split lip dripping more blood before she wiped it away with the back of her hand. It was always good to come home after a rough campaign, but even better was beating the snot out of her House's enemies when one was looking for a good time or to forget bad times.

The Troops Come Home to War

Kyliska was practicing in the training yard of Sunfire Estate, her heavy armor set aside in favor of a lighter leather set designed to give her flexibility while she was training. Despite the injuries to her shoulder, she was beginning to recover nicely and her weapon bit into the training target time and again with nearly perfect accuracy. She would be fully fit for combat within another week or two at the rate she was progressing, and the thought brought a small measure of comfort to her in the otherwise gloomy times she was facing.

Around her other Knights trained on target dummies or worked on repairing their gear. Although each wore different equipment depending on the training they were doing, all of them, like Kyliska herself, wore a black armband of mourning in honor of Biara. Some of Biara's apprentices had taken to dressing in all black to signify their loss, and the banners of Sunfire Estate hung at half-mast and likely would for some weeks to come.

Just as Kyliska's arm was beginning to twitch with renewed pain from her healing injuries, a commotion arose on the far side of the compound. Kyliska turned to peer in that direction, seeing the gates surrounding the estate's grounds opening as guards moved to allow elves outside to pass into the fortifications.

Even in Kyliska's grim state of mind, the sight that greeted her eyes was glorious. Row after row of Blood Knights rode on their chargers, each in perfect formation with all of the others, each wearing full plate armor, bearing a lance, and wearing a tabard of House Sunfire on their chests. The sheer martial power that the group projected as they rode into the compound was heartwarming, and Kyliska found herself grinning as she watched them enter the grounds.

Her Knights had returned from the front lines!

The group slowly filled the training grounds and were greeted by a chorus of cheers from those who had been outside training in the chilly morning air. Kyliska watched as the group formed into a long, narrow column, horses held steady as she walked towards them. To her surprise, one amongst the group was not riding a charger, but was instead mounted upon what appeared to be a captured Kor'kron war wolf, the creature loping around the rear of the formation and then passing back and forth in front of it, its rider barking orders that echoed through the compound as she brought her men to a full halt.

As Kyliska walked up to stand before the Knights, the wolf-rider guided her mount to the fore of the group where Kyliska could see her better. Dressed in black armor rather than the shining armor of her Blood Knights, the Sin'dorei had short cropped black hair and enough piercings that her ears and nose glimmered from a distance in the morning's light. As the elf brought her wolf to a halt, it was clear that it was indeed a captured Kor'kron wolf, and a rabid one at that if she could judge by the foam coming from its mouth. Its rider gave its reins a hardy jerk, and Kyliska began to consider that perhaps the beast's attitude simply matched that of its rider.

The elf hopped down from the saddle, her black armor gleaming dully as she moved. To say that she had an array of weapons on her person was an understatement, and Kyliska lost count of the number of blades she saw after she reached five. To Kyliska's amusement, she also noted that the strange elf was wearing what looked like a captured and tattered Kor'kron war banner as a cloak. The elf walked up before Kyliska and bowed deeply before bringing a hand to her heart in an orcish-style salute.

"Lady Sunfire," the elf said formally, "I am pleased to report that all regiments of your Knights are accounted for and have returned from the front at Orgrimmar. They have attained much glory in the fighting, and have honored this House and their heritage."

Kyliska nodded, looking the other Sin'dorei over. She was obviously in some position of authority although Kyliska did not recognize her since she was not one of her Blood Knights, "And who are you, Captain?"

The Sin'dorei gave Kyliska a half-smile, her black painted lips almost looking smug as she replied, "I'm the bitch your sister put in charge of the expeditionary force, Lady Sunfire. The name's Novae Summergale, and it is a pleasure to serve you and this House."

Despite her mood, Kyliska found herself smiling at the Captain's brusque way of speaking. Combined with her obvious martial prowess and the fact that her Knights were rigidly in formation and awaiting command, it was clear that Biara had chosen well. The thought of her lost sister sent a wave of sorrow across Kyliska's heart, and the emotions danced across her face briefly.

Novae saw it and immediately stepped forward, her hand placed on Kyliska's unwounded shoulder and her voice low enough that it would not be heard by the Knights awaiting orders behind them, "I am truly sorry for your loss, Lady Sunfire. Biara was a good leader, and honored the ways of our people and our nation. Although I have not been with your House for very long, it was a joy to fight under her command and you have my solemn oath that my blade will continue to serve you in her place."

Kyliska nodded, unable to speak for a moment before regaining her composure. When she managed to meet Novae's stare, her eyes had a fire in them, "Your blade will serve me soon, Captain. Make sure the men do not grow weak and idle, because I already know who is responsible for my sister's death, and once I have the evidence and support I need, they are going to die in the most horrible way possible."

Novae grinned, giving Kyliska's shoulder a squeeze before lowering her hand. Her voice had a husky undertone that made Kyliska smile when she replied, "Lady Sunfire, I don't need evidence. You tell me that you want someone dead, and I will bathe in their blood. You have my word on that, my Lady. The soldiers will be ready at all times. When you call, we will slay in your name."

"Thank you, Captain," Kyliska replied. At least there was still some loyalty left in her shattered world. "Please, send the Knights to their barracks and allow them time to rest. They will be drawing their blades again very soon if I have anything to say about it."

"As you command, Lady Sunfire," Novae replied. She placed a hand over her heart again before spinning around to face the men. Her voice bellowed out, clear as day to everyone in the courtyard. "Knights! Fall out to the barracks! You are dismissed! Welcome home you bastards!"

The Blood Knights gave a wild cheer before breaking ranks and dismounting, moving towards the stables and barracks. For a few minutes, Kyliska watched them as they departed, studied the way the light gleamed on their blades, the way their chargers stamped upon the ground as if eager for the battles to come. In that moment she realized they were her weapon, her sword to wield as she saw fit.

In due time, I'll plunge this blade into your heart Seluna. All the way to the bloody hilt.

As she turned to head inside, Kyliska found herself feeling much better, and much angrier at the same time.

Choosing a Destiny

In the outer offices of one of the Explorer's League buildings in Ironforge, a door opened and was slammed abruptly, the sound echoing through the stone chambers. Deeper within the structure, the booming sound of the wooden door striking the stone doorframe made two gnomes jump in startled surprise. One of them jostled a pile of maps and the parchments tumbled from a workbench, drifting lazily to the floor.

On the other side of the room, a flame haired dwarf rolled her eyes before exchanging a knowing glance with a third gnome that had been working beside her to check off a list of provisions that the two were going over. The dwarf, a young woman who had likely just seen her naming day within the past decade, took in a deep breath and sighed, her lips moving as if she were mentally counting something down. She reached up and removed the glasses she used when reading, setting them on the workbench amongst the provisions before turning and waiting, her eyes glued to the door that lead to the chambers they were in.

Sure enough, when the dwarf's countdown reached zero, the door burst open and an older dwarf with similar flame colored hair and a beard down to his waist charged through the opening, bellowing at the top of his lungs, "THARISSA! WHERE ARE YA, LASS?! I WANNA SEE YA THIS INSTANT!"

He abruptly stopped as he realized that the object of his search was standing only a few feet away, her arms crossed as she leaned against one of the work benches. He also quickly noted that there were three gnomes in the room as well, two of them looking quite timid. He shook his head, his beard waggling as he pointed an accusing finger at Tharissa, "What's this I hear o' you puttin' in yer resignation at t' forge? I told you before, no daughter o' mine's walkin' away from respectable work to be practicin' magic in it's place."

Otin Runestone's tone was angry, and his glare had a fire in it that matched the color of his hair. Unfortunately for him, however, his daughter was bred true and when she snapped back she demonstrated that she was more than willing to meet fire with fire.

"And I told ya I'll do what I want!" Tharissa yelled, her own finger jabbed towards her father. "I'm nae a little girl runnin' underfoot! M' naming day's come and gone and I'll be decidin' my course! I already told ya this day was comin', and you'll nae change my mind on the matter!"

Otin blinked once, surprised at the the fire in his daughter's voice and the stance she was taking. They'd fought about the subject more than once, with him encouraging her to continue her studies at the forge so she could work within Ironforge adding runes and magic to weapons. She was insistent on leaving however, convinced her path lead outside of their home city and to the wider world beyond.

Realizing that she was fired up, he quickly attempted to change his tactics, lowering his voice, "Tharissa...ya know I'm gettin' older now. I just want ta see ya settle down and find somethin' ta make ya happy 'fore I take my rest. Yer skills are well known and could make a life here. I'm just tryin' to make you see what's best for ya, lass."

Tharissa was not having any of the old argument, shaking her head, her eyes blazing, "Ya want what's best for you papa! Ya want ta know I'm here somewhere, workin' a bit at a forge and raisin' little ones. And maybe that'll be me fate one day, but not 'fore I see what's beyond this. There's things to be learnin', and I can do more than stay at t' forge. Ya need to let go sometime."

Otin sighed, shaking his head. He paused for a moment, looking around the room, seeing the two cowering gnomes who were still picking up maps and all of the equipment laid out. His daughter had planned her first adventure well, preparing herself with knowledge of her path and the equipment she'd need to survive in the wilderness or at a dig site. He hadn't raised a fool, and he knew it all too well.

With another sigh he looked back at the still fuming young dwarf, finally nodding at her slowly, "Aye then, lass. Yer decided on this then? Ya won't give yer old papa's objections any more considerin'?"

Tharissa's expression softened as she realized the true nature of the argument. Her father might be gruff and put on an act, but inside he was soft-hearted and actually worried over her. When she replied, her tone was a peace offering between them, "Aye, I'm decided on it. I'll be leavin' in the mornin'. But I'll be comin' back, papa. And when I do, I'll be bringin' fortune and fame t' the Runestone name. Once I discover what I was meant ta find out there anyway."

Otin nodded, his voice low and gruff like gravel, "Fine then. Ya have it yer way. Just don't be disappointin' me out there. Don't want everyone thinkin' the Runestones're craven. And don't be forgettin' what you've learned here, both 'bout yer magic and about the work at t' forge."

Tharissa smiled, realizing that this was as close as she was going to get to receiving her father's blessing, and that in his own way he was telling her to be careful. She nodded, walking over to him and patting him on the arm, "I'll remember, papa. You've nae reason t' worry, and when I'm comin' back I'll buy ya a drink and tell ya me tales o' adventure."

The older dwarf nodded, looking around one last time before turning and tromping off out of the room. Behind him he left his daughter, a beatific smile on her face as her dreams of adventure bloomed before her.

Tharissa Runestone would leave Ironforge and seek out the unknown beyond. She would learn more about her magic, about the wondrous people and places of Azeroth, and when she returned she would bring all of that wealth back with her to help her people craft even more amazing things. It was the start of her life, and in the morning she would take her first steps in the grand adventure.

She could not be happier.