Writing to the Past

*A letter is sent from Sunfire Estate. It is surprisingly lacking in any fancy seals, markings, gold-leaf envelopes, or the like. Instead it simply has 'Lord Aeranor Runesong' written in neat script on the outside. The letter is sealed with a single drop of wax, a heart shaped stamp having pressed the wax closed.*

Dear Aeranor,

I have spent many long years thinking about writing this letter, about what it would say. I am not even sure if a missive can reach you now, where you've gone, but I believe the time has come to finally put quill and ink to paper and to let the words come forth. It is amusing to think that the contents of this letter would have changed so dramatically over the course of the past several years.

When first I would have written to you, it would have been to beg you to come back. To offer profuse apologies with promises that the things that drove you away would be kept in check in the future. Promises that we both know would have been in vain, and in fact in many ways been outright falsehoods, for I had no intention of changing who I was, despite whatever poetic words would have surrounded such sentiments.

Later, this letter would have contained bitterness, anger, perhaps even accusations or demands that requested your presence, your support in difficult times. This too would have been an error, for how could I lean on you in times of trouble when such troubles were caused by my own hand, exactly as you predicted would be the case so long ago? How could I accuse you of abandoning me when you sought only to preserve your own people, your own good name?

Now though, now this letter contains a more simple sentiment and one that could not have been made in the past before the fires of my own creation had burned away my child-like ways and opened my eyes. For now I see that you were so very right to turn from me and walk away. The dangers you foresaw were not even half of what my power and my blindness wrought not only on myself, but on those who followed me, on my friends and family. How could you have stood beside me and burned in those flames? No, you were right to retreat, and though my heart has ached for years I no longer wonder about the why of it all.

There are a thousand excuses that I could give you for my actions. I could tell you how my mother raised me, how her love for me was but a dim, guttering candle in the darkness that made up her soul. I could tell you that the loss of my parents at such a tender age lead me to do things that I would later regret. All of these words would be excuses though, merely a way to throw a covering blanket over the truth of the matter; I am responsible for it all. My actions, my deeds, my disasters, my fault. There is no simpler truth than this, and the light of it shines so clearly in my eyes now.

In my early life there was an example that I could have lived up to. I think that you would have liked my father, Tel'athar Dayfire. He was an honorable Quel'dorei and had the interests of our people at heart. He loved those who served our House, and spent time looking after their well-being. He loved me freely, and as a result I had to put little effort into making him happy. Had I remembered the lessons he taught me, had I not allowed my mother's ambitions to overshadow them, perhaps things would have been different between you and I. That they were not is again my fault however, and I will never again cast the responsibility on others when it should be mine alone to bear.

So why do I write this letter to you now? It is not to beg your forgiveness any longer. It is not to beg for you to return, for why would you return to a life that was such poison to your own well being? No, it is instead to tell you that I forgive you, that I understand why you did what you did. I release the bitterness I held in my heart for your final parting words, for I see now their truth. I still think of them, and of you, as you have made up a tiny piece of my heart for such a long time. You have shaped my experiences, my goals, my dreams. I feel that I can now let go of all of that, and simply hold on to the memory of a friendship that was brief, but was still a glowing light in the timeline of my past.

The future will not be the past. I have surrendered my power and wield magic no longer. I have responsibilities to my sister, to the House that I will eventually fully bequeath to her name that she may carry on the legacy of our friendship, of what my father truly would have intended for us had he lived to see the fall of Silvermoon. Further, I have a daughter to care for now, one whom I have challenged the powers of time itself to reclaim, and who I love more truly, more fully than I have ever experienced in the past. I see now what was missing, and what I allowed magic to overshadow for all of these years.

I hope that if this letter reaches you, wherever you may travel, it finds your own life similarly filled with such love, such happiness. I hope that you have found new companions to stand beside you, or perhaps rediscovered ones you thought long gone. I hope even that you have found love, and that your heart sings even as your arrows fly. I hope that the road has not been a harsh one, and that it brings you good luck and better memories. Finally, I hope that one day you are able to look back and remember the few moments in time where my ambition, my magic, did not overshadow a friendship that meant more to me than I can possibly say. I hope that, now and then, it makes you smile.

Farewell, Lord Runesong. May your path be green and golden, and when your travels come to an end, may the gates of Quel'Thalas open for you.

With all my heart,
Biara'thiel Sunfire

*The letter is lacking any titles, honorifics, or official seals in the signature.*

Learning Anew

The sound of wood slapping flesh roughly echoed through the stone chambers, closely followed by a yelp of pain from Biara. Kyliska smirked and shook her head, shifting uncomfortably on her padded divan and trying to find the best position to watch the proceedings where her aching wounds would not trouble her. She brought a hand up, the apple she was holding making a loud crunching counterpoint to the silence that fell over the room. Beside her, the child Astariel sat up, her eyes wide as she watched the center of the floor before them.

Biara Sunfire lay on the ground, a practice mat beneath her having taken the brunt of the impact out of her fall. Above her stood Novae Summergale, House Sunfire's primary guard captain. The upright elf grunted, leaning down to offer Biara a hand and help her to her feet. The former Magistrix gratefully accepted the help, coming to stand unsteadily before Novae.

To Kyliska's eyes, the entire thing was an amazing and unbelievable situation. There they were, in a practice gym on the estate grounds, Biara wearing a leotard and standing barefoot in the center of the large hall, her hands clutching two small wooden daggers and a bruise forming on her upper arm and likely her right side beneath the stretchy fabric.

“Biara...maybe you should reconsider this idea...” Kyliska said hesitantly.

Biara firmly shook her head, her mouth falling into a grim line, “No. I am firm with this decision, Kyli. I have to do this for you, and for all of those in our House. Even it if takes years. Even if it's a little painful. Novae, start again. Do not 'go easy' on me please.”

Novae grinned, nodding and circling around Biara, her voice barking out like a drill sergeant's would, “Get into battle readiness! I want to see those daggers extended properly. Make sure you've got a good grip, and set your feet properly.”

As Kyliska took another bite of her apple, she watched with some amusement as Novae circled Biara, her wooden practice longsword reaching out to slap Biara's form here and there whenever the Captain found one of her limbs out of position. It was all Kyliska could do to not laugh outright when Novae slapped Biara's inner right thigh in an effort to get her to set her feet properly and the former Magistrix turned beet red.

“Good, you've memorized the basics of body posture. It will take some time before it becomes natural to you though,” Novae commented, looking her employer over critically. “Prepare yourself. Remember what we discussed about basic defense.”

“I am ready, Captain. Please begin,” Biara said firmly.

As Astariel cheered beside Kyliska, Novae launched into a blistering assault on Biara with her wooden weapon, the longsword moving quickly and firmly towards Biara's sides, head, and upper legs. To Biara's credit, she did manage to fend off several of the blows, the click of the wooden sword striking her wooden dagger echoing through the room even as she was forced to give up ground to the powerful Captain. After several more near misses and one miraculous (and lucky) dodge, the wooden longsword came down hard and fast from Biara's right, her wooden dagger just barely missing it in its arc. The flat, hard object struck Biara in the cheek, sending her reeling backwards and causing her to lose her grip on her own weapons as she tumbled to the mats once again.

“Oooo, sorry about that, Lady Sunfire,” Novae said. She actually winced as Biara rolled over and sat upright, displaying a large red mark across her cheek where she'd been smacked. “Maybe we should pause here so you can absorb your lessons for the day...”

Biara held up a hand, licking a bit of blood from a split in her lip and shaking her head, “No. We practice every day for three hours at a minimum. Every. Day. If this had been a real battle and I had been beside Kyliska, I would have fallen and then she would have fallen as well. Our lives depend on this, and I will put as much if not more effort into it than I did with my spell studies.”

With that, Biara dragged herself to her feet, bending down to pick up her wooden daggers and then falling into, surprisingly, the correct battle posture once more. “Begin again please.”

Novae grinned, studying Biara's posture before shaking her head, “You've got the basic defensive stance down. What we need to do is improve your agility so that you can better avoid blows. If you cannot use a sword like I or your sister do, then dodging attacks will be even more important. I know you are going to bring other experts in, but basic physical fitness is key here, and your training sessions will not simply involve being beaten with sticks all day.”

Biara blinked once, standing upright and relaxing a bit. As Novae set her wooden longsword aside, Biara put her own on the ground, her face curious, “What do you mean?”

Novae grinned, walking around behind Biara and taking her arms gently, putting them up above her head before placing her hands on her hips, “I mean basic gymnastics, Lady Sunfire. You ever do a cartwheel? You're about to do them until your head spins.”

The look on Biara's face was more than Kyliska could bear, and this time she did laugh despite the pain in her ribs and the aches of her wounds. As Astariel clapped happily beside her and cheered again, Kyliska's laughter echoed through the gymnasium.

It was going to be a long three hours today, and a long three hours every day for the next several months, not counting the sessions with other professionals that even now Biara had put out notices to hire.

The Final Act- Part 2

*Dawnsea Manor, Silvermoon City Outskirts, Midnight*

They had put him in a cage of black iron, the kind that one might temporarily keep a prisoner in before moving them to a more permanent cell or to the gallows. What was unusual about Andithiel's location was that he was not in a dungeon somewhere, but instead in an open, circular room with a small square foyer near the double doors that made up the entrance. The bars of his cell were actually seated deep in the marble floor, and not a single one of them was loose in its mooring; he'd already tried each one separately.

The rest of the room was almost completely empty with the exception of a stone dais in the center of the circular part of what he knew must be Seluna's conjury room. Atop the dais was a column of purple light, within it floating not a tattered, torn book but instead a completely restored necromantic tome, complete with a sparkling red jewel set in its cover. The book, the phylactery, had been restored by Seluna some time ago. She had had Andithiel unceremoniously deposited in the cell and then mostly ignored him for an hour while she had plied her spells on the two torn halves of the tome. Once she was done, the restored book rested in the field of magic as it did even now.

The silence in the room was broken as the double doors opened and a line of robed figures entered. Inter-spaced between them here and there were half-naked, bound figures who stumbled along as best they could in the procession, their hands and feet fettered to prevent their escape. Although they were gagged, Andithiel frowned as he recognized the faces of several of his men that he presumed must have been captured during the raid on Felo'melorn Spire.

As more and more of the robed figures filed into the room, Andithiel realized that some major event was about to unfold; each of those entering the room had similar clothing and ceremonial daggers strapped to their belts, and they formed neat, organized circles around the central dais, those who were not prisoners forcing the captives into alignment with the pattern they were creating. Andithiel's frown deepened as he watched several of the robed figures begin to chant, the foul words of their magic echoing in the stone chamber.

As the last of them filed in and took up their position, Seluna Dawnsea entered the room, her flowing black gown trailing after her as she paused, nodding to the guards behind her who closed the doors with a final sounding boom. With a smirk on her face, Seluna walked towards the cage where Andithiel stood, looking him over in a predatory fashion, “Ah, there you are, Heir of Felo'melorn. Do you like your new accommodations? Fear not, you shall not remain in them for long.”

“What is the purpose of all of...this?” Andithiel said, keeping his emotions in check.

“Why, this is the moment of my triumph,” Seluna said, gesturing behind her with a flourish. “You are witnessing my rebirth and my freedom from the shackles of magic that bind my spirit. Soon enough I will complete my ritual, and then I will be free and I will grant the same gift to you.”

“I want nothing from you, witch,” Andithiel said. “This is all temporary; my sisters will not long allow you to live after what you've done to our spire. Your threats and promises are empty.”

Seluna laughed, shaking her head, “Empty? I think not. By the time your sisters organize themselves this will all be complete, and then any actions they take will be futile. There is no one who will stop me.”

“My sisters will not come alone!” Andithiel said in a stern tone. “Our allies will rise to aid us! You will not be allowed to just assault and destroy Houses in Quel'Thalas without consequences.”

Seluna smirked, leaning close enough to the bars that Andithiel involuntarily pulled his head back. Her voice was a low whisper and almost sensual when she responded, “You speak of your precious Kyliska and her 'house'. You think she loves you truly? She doesn't even understand what it means to love. I have shouldered the burdens of true love. I have given of myself, made sacrifices for love that you and she cannot even fathom. If you believe her feelings for you will allow her to somehow aid your sisters in undoing my work, your thoughts are laughable at best.”

Andithiel spat on the floor of his cell, openly glaring now, “You are a thing of darkness, and you do not know what love is. I do not know what it is that passes between Kyliska and I, but I know the difference between foul evil like you, and something with light in it like the heart she offers.”

Seluna snarled, one of her hands snaking through the bars and clenching the front of Andithiel's tunic, “I have given all of myself for love. I have loved so deeply that I have died for it. I have sacrificed time and again for my beloved Tel'athar, and all without reward. I carried a child for him. I raised her as he wished. I allowed him to lead our House without complaint all because I adored him and cherished him above all else. Do not think to tell me that your precious Kyliska would do the same for you. She could not even keep her wayward eyes in check for a short score of years. She did not even bother to protect or care for herself enough to birth your own child. Do not ever speak to me of love, for you know nothing of true love, true passion. It is only once I have brought Tel'athar back and he is within you that you will know love, for you shall see my love for him that is stronger than death itself, than the Light itself!”

With that she shoved him away, retracting her hand and tilting her head once. Andithiel's heart pounded with rage, but he kept it in check, noting the way she watched him as a dangerous animal might, her eyes wild and unfocused. After a moment the emotion passed and her blue eyes faded to a greenish color. She reached up and put a few wayward strands of hair in place before offering him a smile and gesturing behind her, “Behold now the power of devotion, the power of my magic. BEGIN!”

To Andithiel's horror, the figures surrounding the dais in the circular part of the room rose, each holding up a knife. Those standing closest to the prisoners began to systematically stab their sacrificial victims in the heart, while those who were standing alone impaled their own beating hearts on the daggers, their chanting turning to gurgling as their blood rushed across the floor. And all the while, the gem on the cover of the spellbook began to glow with foul blue light as it absorbed soul after soul.

“No! NO!” Andithiel shouted, backing away from the bars as Seluna began to laugh, the sounds of corpses hitting the floor offering an eerie counterpoint to the musical tone.

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

*Sunfire Estate, Eversong Woods, Half-past Midnight*

Kyliska sat solemnly upon her warhorse, her armor cinched tightly in place on her body, her best ax strapped to her back. In her hand she held a weapon that she did not ordinarily use, but that Tyavel had insisted she equip. Behind her, the rest of her Blood Knights were similarly armed, the lances each of them carried tipped with the blunt ends that would be used in practice jousting. Kyliska understood what their purpose would be, but she still questioned the sanity of the daring plan.

“Kyliska, are your men prepared?” Tyavel's voice carried up to Kyliska.

Kyliska looked down, seeing the stern looking Magistrix standing beside her, bedecked in battle robes and nearly glowing with fatal magics, enchantments, and wards. Kyliska took a moment to stare into Tyavel's eyes, as if to gauge her dedication to their cause. What she saw made her almost flinch; where the Magistrix was outwardly calm, her green glowing eyes swirled like a storm of magic, the rage within her held under a tightly controlled mask of serenity that hid the potential for massacre beyond words.

It fit Kyliska's own mood perfectly.

She wiped at her face, removing the tears she'd cried for the past hour at hearing of Andithiel's capture. The time for sorrow had passed. The time for mourning was gone. Now was the time for revenge, the time to put to the sword the enemies that had for so long tormented her family and loved ones. She would live with the consequences of tonight's battles, for she knew in her heart that her enemies would not live to see the dawn. Her voice firm, she responded finally to the Magistrix, “We are ready. You may begin.”

Tyavel nodded once, standing back a bit in front of Kyliska's horse, her voice raised and commanding now, “Seluna Dawnsea has taken that which belongs to my House and has harmed my family. She has harmed your family as well. She is well aware of what she has done and what our response will be, and so has prepared her defenses for a counter-attack. She thinks to trap us when we portal into her domain, to lead us into ambush and magical terrors that will put an end to us.”

Tyavel paused, looking over the assembled Blood Knights, her own apprentices standing silently behind her, “Tonight she will learn that she lives in the past, and that we Sin'dorei live because we have learned to survive, to think beyond the boundaries of our limitations. Tonight she will pay for her arrogance.”

Tyavel's hand came up, her fingers snapping and sending her apprentices scurrying behind her. They began to chant, their spells combining to form a huge portal that glowed in Sunfire Estate's courtyard. Tyavel did not bother to look back, her eyes meeting Kyliska's once more. She brought up her other hand, spouting a word of magic and creating a small, illusionary hourglass that floated in the air before her. The magical sand within it began to pour from the top, emptying into the bottom.

“When the sands are empty, you begin. No sooner, no later,” Tyavel said, her voice lowered once more.

With that she turned, walking towards the swirling portal behind her, her apprentices falling into line with her, each of them disappearing into the glowing magic and leaving the courtyard. Kyliska watched the sands as they emptied out, knowing she had to trust in the magic and wishing desperately that her sister were there to guide her.

A hand fell on Kyliska's shoulder and she turned to see Selenthiel there, smiling from the back of a white hawkstrider, her blessing settling in on Kyliska's shoulders like a soft blanket, “We will win this night, Kyliska. Have faith. We will not let her continued wrongs go unpunished.”

Kyliska nodded, her face grim as she remembered all of the horrors that the Dawnsea family had unleashed upon her. As she recalled all of the death and destruction. As she remembered her sister's face in her mind. She turned her horse, holding her lance high before her men, her knights saluting her as she began to speak.

“Tonight we ride not just for vengeance. We ride not just to free the heir of House Felo'melorn. Tonight we ride together as one, House allied to House, to put an end to a threat to all of Quel'Thalas. We ride to bring justice to the unjust, to put wickedness to rest so that our lands never again are scarred by the evils of necromancy and those who would practice it. Tonight we honor the name of Sunfire, we honor the memory of my fallen sister, Biara. Tonight, we will put an end to this plague upon us and a sword to the heart of darkness! FOR HOUSE FELO'MELORN, FOR HOUSE SUNFIRE, FOR QUEL'THALAS!”

The Blood Knights roared, their lances held high as Kyliska turned towards the portal, her eyes watching the sands as the very last grain fell into the bottom of the timepiece and the magical construct disappeared. With firm motions she kicked her warhorse into motion, her lance coming down in front of her and the sounds of hundreds of Blood Knights spurring their mounts into a charge behind her rising up.

Kyliska rode onward, the tip of her lance plunging into the portal and quickly followed by the rest of her, magic rising up around her and whisking her away.

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

*Dawnsea Manor, Outer Gates, An hour past Midnight*

The magic flared and spat Kyliska out, her warhorse moving at full speed even as she blinked to clear her eyes of the remaining flashes of power. In front of her rose the forbidding gates of Dawnsea Manor, the thick wooden structure set into a wall of stone twenty feet high. She was about two hundred yards away from it, her speed picking up quickly as her horse found its traction on the smooth manicured lawn outside of the gates.

Ahead of her and all around the gate were Tyavel's apprentices, all of them busily hurling magic at the structure not to destroy it, but instead to freeze it solid. Blistering cold magic slashed into the wood over and over, the guards within unable to open the huge gates due to the ice on the hinges and the apprentices keeping their men from the walls with vicious spells. Seluna had expected Tyavel to launch a counter-attack, but she had never expected Tyavel to attempt to breach the gates in a traditional fashion, and her men were badly out of position, her wards completely useless against such an assault.

Kyliska brought her lance up, the only sound in her ears the pounding of her horse's hooves beneath her and the roaring warcries of a hundred Knights echoing from behind her. Plunging towards the gate at full speed, there was no way she could turn or stop herself, and she didn't even try, trusting completely in Tyavel's word that her plan would work.

The gate rose up quickly before her, the towering structure dominating her sight. Kyliska brought her lance into perfect alignment, the blunt tip aimed directly at the center of the gates. She closed her eyes, feeling the momentum as she crossed the last few feet and the tip of her lance slammed into the center of the gate with all of the force of a battering ram, the blunt tip striking the wood like a thousand hammers.

The wooden barricade had been struck with frozen ice that was well beyond natural temperatures for over ten minutes. As the lance struck it, it shattered like into a million pieces of crystallized icy and bits of splinter, the weight of Kyliska's warhorse slamming the rest of the barricade out of the way and her lance tearing out of her hands from the force of the impact. The pain in her shoulder was almost unbearable, her vision turning white for a moment from the shock of it even as the shattered barricade fell to ruin around her and her horse stumbled into the courtyard beyond, her Knights hot on her trail, their own lances pummeling any resistance out of the way.

Ahead of Kyliska she could see the main structure of Dawnsea Manor rising up across a small lawn, dozens of House Dawnsea elves scrambling to get into defensive positions as their magically weakened gate collapsed and allowed attackers to pour in. Ignoring the screaming pain in her arm, Kyliska reach back and drew her great-ax, her heels digging into her warhorse's flanks and driving the wounded beast onward, her voice belting out over the sounds of battle, “FOR ANDI!!!!!!!!”

A House Dawnsea guard rose up before her and Kyliska decapitated him, not even slowing the momentum of her charge. She could see the doors to the manor house being pulled closed ahead, and knew she had to hurry. She spurred her mount faster, trampling those hapless enemies that had been milling about in her path beneath its iron-shod hooves. Her ax whirled, elves ducking or dying if they were not fast enough, the estate house looming up over her.

Without pausing, Kyliska spurred her charging mount onward, the beast clearing the front steps and riding all the way through the double doors and into the foyer beyond. Elves scattered before it even as the beast's horseshoes slid on the marble and the creature slammed into the far wall of the foyer. Kyliska winced as her leg was pinched between horse and wall and then she kicked her leg free and leaped from its back, landing amongst the guards that had been trying to close the door, her ax swinging wildly and her blood-curdling cries making them flinch.

Elves fell around her. A guard tried to impale her with a pike and had his legs cut out from beneath him. Another guard slammed a sword into Kyliska's shoulder pauldron and she turned and body checked him, her armored boot crushing his windpipe as he fell to the ground. She was in a killing frenzy, those around her falling to her deadly blade, her rage calling forth the Light and blinding her enemies even as golden wings sprouted from her back.

Down one of the hallways connecting to the foyer Kyliska saw reinforcements running, several of them spellcasters who paused at the end of the hallway, pointing wands in her direction. She knew she had to buy time for the rest of her men to take and hold the foyer, and so she stood firm, her teeth grit at the inevitable death that would come to her this night.

At least Andi will be free.

Even as Kyliska thought this, the air beside her began to shimmer and Tyavel appeared, her invisibility spell falling away. She stepped in front of Kyliska just as the enemy spellcasters hurled bolts of fire down the hallway, holding her hand palm outward. The fireballs slammed into an icy barrier that surrounded the Magistrix, the flames washing harmlessly past the two elves. Without saying a word Tyavel brought her hand down and then back up, as if trying to lift something, her face a mask of cold calculation.

The end of the hallway detonated, a fiery explosion consuming the three spellcasters that had tried to slay Kyliska, their screams echoing down the hallway as they were immolated. Tyavel pointed, shards of razor sharp ice flying from her finger and ricocheting down the narrow corridor, shredding the armored elves that had tried to run up towards the two and spilling their blood all over the marble.

Behind the two, Kyliska's Knights finally caught up, dozens of them dismounting and pouring into the now-forced manor doors, some turning to hold the corridors behind them and others bunching up behind Kyliska. She wasted no time, offering Tyavel the briefest of nods before bringing her ax up and charging down the hallway, her warcry echoing through the narrow stone corridor.

Behind her Tyavel followed, Selenthiel close behind with the bulk of Kyliska's Knights and a handful of Tyavel's apprentices, magic glittering on their staves as they backed up the armed fighters that had breached the gates. Like an unstoppable tide they poured down the hallways Kyliska always in the lead and always covered in gore, Tyavel right behind her, a silent and deadly force of nature that laid low any who dared challenge her magic.

Several more hallways lead off from the main entrance, and these were cleared with little resistance, the Dawnsea defenders wisely attempting to fall back towards better defensive positions. Kyliska eagerly pursued her foes, knowing that they would have to turn and fight her when she neared Seluna's inner sanctums. As she rounded a bend, the last of the retreating Dawnsea soldiers slammed a door in her path, and she ran towards it, burying half her ax in the wood.

Tyavel walked up beside Kyliska as the enraged Blood Knight pulled her ax from the wood, a smirk on her face, “Allow me, Kyliska dear. Save your ax for what lies beyond.”

Tyavel pressed her palm to the wooden door, chanting something under her breath. There was a pulse of magic from her body and the barricade blew inward, the arcane spells hurling the door into ruin in the center of what was obviously a dining hall. Kyliska charged through the opening, Tyavel on her heels and Knights pouring in behind the two, only belatedly realizing they had run into a last-ditch ambush.

On the far side of the dining hall a row of archers brought their bows up, their aim true as they let their shafts fly. Kyliska gasped as arrows struck her armor, denting it in places and getting caught in her left pauldron. Tyavel's face had a mildly irritated look as the arrows bounced off of her magical wards, weakening them slightly before she wisely took cover behind a small round table that had been set near the doors. Kyliska noted the Magistrix's actions and took cover herself, both of them flipping the tables upright as more arrows slammed into their targets.

“What now?!” Kyliska yelled as her Knights attempted to seek cover in vain. Several were struck with arrows while others found similar shelter behind overturned tables.

“We need some way to close the distance without being struck!” Tyavel shouted back. “I can hit them with my spells but not while I need to focus on keeping their arrows from my flesh!”

Kyliska grinned, an idea coming to her as the Magistrix spoke. “Arrows from our flesh! Right!” She sheathed her ax on her back, reaching down to grasp the legs of the table in front of her. With a heave that sent stars dancing through her vision from the pain in her shoulder, she lifted the table up, holding it steady as she began to advance towards the archers. The wooden barricade shuddered as it was struck by shaft after shaft, the table a pincushion before Kyliska had crossed half the distance.

“Primitive, but effective,” Tyavel conceded, rising from her place of cover and pointing. As the archers focused on Kyliska's advance, they had little warning before shards of ice crossed the distance, slamming into them and slaughtering several of them outright. One of the archers actually had his bow snap as the heavy, cold projectiles slammed into the fragile wood, the bowstring whipping him across the face and rendering him unconscious.

Kyliska reached the far side of the room, hurling the arrow-filled table at her enemies even as her Knights jumped over their own barricades and rushed the remaining defenders. A few Knights fell, but by then it was too late, Kyliska's ax was back in her hand and more corpses fell to the elegant hardwood floor.

With a roar Kyliska moved past the bodies, kicking open the door on the far end of the dining hall and plunging into the hallway beyond, noting how the décor became more expensive and decorative in the space beyond; it was exactly what she was looking for. With a grin that foretold nothing but absolute slaughter, Kyliska dashed ahead, her Knights struggling to keep up with her and forced to often break off to cover openings and doorways that Kyliska ignored in favor of following her own inner voice. Behind her Tyavel and Selenthiel followed, the Magistrix on guard for magical traps and the High Priestess frowning as she sensed something in the estate ahead.

After a moment Selenthiel came to a halt, her voice carrying to Kyliska ahead and causing the three of them to pause, “There is something amiss in the hallway to the right. The first door. I can sense...evil. Some sort of dark power there.”

Tyavel closed her eyes, concentrating and murmuring. After a moment her eyes snapped open and she nodded, her voice grim, “Andithiel is in that direction as well. He still wears a ring I gifted him and I can detect its presence at such a close proximity.”

Kyliska's eyes widened, her voice strained, “Is he..?”

“He lives. The magic would not function if he did not,” Tyavel replied, her voice firm. “We must hurry.”

Kyliska needed no goading, her boots already pounding on the lushly carpeted floor as she dashed down the hallway Selenthiel had indicated. She shoulder slammed the first door she came to, bursting into the room beyond and stumbling into it in horror.

It was a charnel-house. The circular conjury room beyond was filled with corpses that lay around a central dais in the center of the room. The stone dais was empty, blood from a hundred elves covering it and defiling it. Before it knelt Seluna, her back to the doorway as she completed some spell she was working on.

Kyliska stumbled forward a few steps, almost retching from the stench of the place. Her head whipped around as she heard Andithiel's voice cry out from his place in the cage, “Kyliska! She's completed some dark ritual! Watch out!”

Tyavel and Selenthiel rushed into the room behind Kyliska, the three preparing themselves for whatever defenses Seluna had in place in her most private sanctum. Seluna herself rose slowly, turning to face the intruders with a grin. She brought hand up, her magic reaching out across the room and slamming the door shut behind the trio.

“Welcome to the dawn of a new day for Quel'Thalas,” Seluna said happily. “I am so glad that you decided to come to me, and have saved me the effort of hunting you down in your own estates.”

“YOU WILL DIE FOR WHAT YOU'VE DONE TO ANDITHIEL! FOR WHAT YOU DID TO MY SISTER!” Kyliska's rage-fueled cry echoed through the room and she immediately charged forward, her boots nearly slipping on the blood-soaked floor.

Seluna merely smirked, bringing a hand up and then whipping it downwards. Tendrils of shadow magic crossed the distance between Kyliska and Seluna in an instant, slashing into Kyliska's thigh and punching through the armor there. With a cry the Blood Knight fell, her form clattering to the bloody marble.

“I think not. Your time has come and gone, and I will usher in a new era for the people of these lands. Those that defy me, like you, will pay the ultimate price for your arrogance. You will not be allowed to ruin this nation any longer!” Seluna replied, her voice scolding.

Tyavel stepped around the fallen Kyliska, her voice firm as she replied, “Seluna Dawnsea, as a representative of the Magistrate of Quel'Thalas, I hereby charge you with the crime of practicing necromancy within our domain. I charge you with the crime of assaulting the citizens of Quel'Thalas. Finally, I charge you with the crime of abducting a member of one of the noble houses of Quel'Thalas. Surrender now, or be thrown down in death.”

Seluna laughed, pointing at Tyavel and lashing out with her magic again. This time the shadowy tendril struck a magical barrier, and Seluna frowned as she lashed out a second time. Tyavel immediately reacted, hurling bolts of razor sharp ice at the empowered High Priestess, even as Selenthiel began to chant, her healing magics soothing Kyliska's wounds and shielding her sister.

Kyliska groaned, rising from her place on the floor and gathering up her ax, advancing towards the dark priestess even as Tyavel continued to hurl bolts of ice at her. The spells seemed to slam into an invisible barrier in the air before the priestess, and Kyliska quickly found her own advance halted as more shadowy tendrils began to lash at her. It was all she could to do shield herself, even with the Light surrounding her in a protective bubble.

Seluna snarled, a dark word of power lashing out and dispelling Kyliska's holy shield, her magics again slashing into Kyliska's flesh and drawing blood from her arm. On the far side of the room, Tyavel continued to chant, even as her wards began to fail from the constant assault of dark magic, her ice bolts doing little noticeable damage to the vile priestess. It was only through Selenthiel's prayers that the trio even remained standing, and it was clear that they soon would be overwhelmed by Seluna's newly enhanced power.

Kyliska screamed a warcry, rising to her feet again even as she was lashed again and again. She felt the magic tear into her stomach, rip a pauldron from her armor, and rip open her knuckles and still she pressed on, her head bowed as if walking into a vile wind. Seluna merely laughed, increasing her assault further, lashing Kyliska over and over as it to punish the insolent child that thought to challenge her.

As blow after blow rained down on her, Kyliska fell to her knees, her blood adding to the gory mess on the floor of the room. Barely retaining consciousness, she held her ax before her, the cold hard steel offering only a little protection from the relentless assaults from Seluna's magic. The dark priestess was barely visible now, her power so immense that it blotted out the dim lights that illuminated the chambers.

I've failed. After all of this...all of our efforts, she is too strong now. She's going to kill all of us in here. House Sunfire and House Felo'melorn will fall. All because I am too weak, because I did not act soon enough, because I failed. I see now what Biara suffered, the burden she felt every waking moment of her life of knowing that a single mistake would end it all for us. I wish...I wish I could tell her. I wish I could have fought beside her one last time. She deserved to have been here with us, even if we all fell together.

Tears streamed down Kyliska's cheeks, her emotions raging even as blood poured from her wounds. Her hoarse voice cried out across the chamber, a death-dirge that made Seluna smirk. “BIARAAAAAAAAAAA!”

A flash of light and a sudden uncomfortable feeling made Kyliska snap back to full consciousness, her eyes darting down to take in the sight of the bracelet on her wrist that Biara had given her glowing hotly. It became uncomfortably warm in an instant, so painful that Kyliska forgot everything around her and dropped her ax, snatching the jewelry from her arm and hurling it away.

For a moment it went unnoticed, tumbling end over end across the room, its light growing brighter and brighter. Soon it became so bright that even Seluna noticed it, her eyes wide as her spells faltered, Tyavel too holding back her magic as all watched the strange glowing bracelet tumble towards the floor.

Only it never hit the floor.

It hovered in the air, magic pulsing from it in waves, the light growing ever brighter. Sounds began to emanate from it, muted at first and then clearly audible to all in the room.

“Father, when I grow up, I wish to be a fighter like you,” a young female elven voice said.

“Mother, I will finish my spell studies after I go to Kyliska's party!” a slightly older elven child said.

“Kyli, no matter what happens, we're best friends for life. Blood oath and all. You can always count on me. Why, you're like my sister,” a teenaged elven voice seemed to say.

“Kyli...I don't know how anyone could ever replace your mother, your family, but you will always have a place with me, with my House,” Biara Dayfire's voice echoed through the room.

“FOR QUEL'THALAS, FOR THE HORDE!” Biara Dayfire's voice shouted in a warcry.

A thousand other moments echoed, shouted, whispered, confided, and cried from the pulsing magic, as if the life of Kyliska's best friend and sister were being replayed in that moment. Tears streamed down Kyliska's face as emotions ran through her, as each moment of the life shared with her sister was replayed by the magic. She wept openly, even as the sounds rose to a crescendo that was almost deafening.

The magical orb pulsed one more time, the weird bubble of time-space becoming unstable as magic tore it to shreds, the spell falling in on itself and imploding before bursting outward with a blinding flash of light. When the light had gone and everyone's vision had cleared, a figure stood where the light had been.

Biara Sunfire stood in the room, her dress soaked with seawater, her lank red hair hanging limply around her face. Her eyes were closed, as if she were concentrating, and in one hand she held the bloody remains of a heart large enough to fit in a dragon's chest. Her other hand held a dagger that shimmered strangely and was hard to look at, as if it were there but not there at the same time. For a moment Kyliska blinked, unable to understand why the ghost of her sister would appear in the room with them in that moment, her heart pounding in her chest.

And then Biara opened her eyes, and Kyliska knew that she was looking at no ghost.

“Hello Mother,” Biara said, her eyes locking with Seluna's. “I see you're causing trouble yet again. And to think you must have been so elated to know I was dead. Yet here I am to ruin your plans once again. I see that you've brought the others here as well, which is perfect as I believe it is time to put an end to this once and for all, don't you...”

Biara's eyes began to glow, fel magic seeping from them and turning to vapor in the air around her face, her power growing.

“....you traitorous...”

The wards on Biara's face flared to life, similar wards on her body glowing with such a bright blue that they were visible through her robes.

“...little...”

The air above her hand began to shimmer, the dragon's heart turning to ash as a ball of fire grew, hovering in the air above Biara's upraised palm.

“...bitch!”

If Biara had walked up and begun to slap Seluna in the face, her appearance would still not have had a greater impact on the vile creature. Seluna began to rage, her anger flaring to life in the form of shadows that seeped from her body. She screamed incoherently at the ceiling, her fists clenched and shaking, shadowy magic slashing into the walls and ceiling and gouging great chunks out of the stone. Marble fell around her as she stomped her feet like a petulant child, unable to articulate her anger.

After a few moments of this, Biara had had enough and casually flicked her wrist at her mother, a massive ball of fire flying through the air and detonating on Seluna's wards. The dark priestess shrieked as her protective barrier shuddered and nearly collapsed, her mouth opening to spit out angry words and slamming shut as she was forced to concentrate when Biara hurled a second ball of fire, never relenting in her attack.

Across the room, Tyavel saw an opportunity and shouted a word of power, blinking across the space between herself and Seluna, her hands outstretched as she hurled magic at the dark priestess's back. Shards of jagged ice slammed into Seluna's wards, several of the spells severing shadowy tendrils that had been meant for Biara. Even so, Seluna retaliated, lashing out at Biara and shattering her protective barriers after several hits, a shadowy tendril slapping Biara's wrist and causing her to yelp and drop the dagger she'd been holding. Shadowy apparitions arose from the ground around Seluna, their shape matching the priestess's and their inky forms slithering towards Tyavel, forcing the Felo'melorn Magistrix on the defensive as she slashed into the attacking magic with her own spells.

From her place on the floor, Kyliska watched the magical battle as it escalated, the two powerful Magistrixes doing battle with Seluna and holding their own, flames and fire dancing around Seluna's wards and weakening them. Both Biara and Tyavel moved quickly, expertly avoiding attacks or counterspelling Seluna a the most opportune moments, keeping her spells at bay for as long as possible.

Kyliska coughed, her blood running down her chin from a punctured lung. With her last dregs of energy she grabbed her ax, using it as a crutch to rise to her feet. Selenthiel rushed over to her, pressing her hands to Kyliska's badly wounded body but the Blood Knight waved her away, pushing onwards towards Andithiel.

She barely made it to his cage, the last of her strength expended in using her ax to break the lock. It clattered onto the marble floor and was followed by Kyliska herself, her vision turning gray at the edges as she struggled to maintain consciousness. In a flash both Selenthiel and Andithiel were kneeling beside her, Kyliska's head supported in Andithiel's lap.

“A-andi...” Kyliska said, coughing up more blood. “No m-matter what h-happens....K-know that I will a-always love you. Always. I-I'm sorry...I-I couldn't... b-be better for you. B-be what you deserved. B-but I will g-give my life for you. M-my heart is always yours.”

Andithiel rocked Kyliska gently, shushing her and brushing her blood-matted hair from her face even as Selenthiel desperately prayed over her to stem the bleeding from her many wounds, “Hush, Kyli. Save your strength now. I want you to promise me something.”

Kyliska looked up at Andithiel with glazed eyes, her breath coming in short gasps from the pain, “A-anything...”

“I want you to wait for me. Just for a little while. If we are to put the past behind us, to start a new slate, then there is something I must do. Will you do that for me?” he said softly.

“I-I'll wait....forever...” Kyliska sighed. She frowned as Andithiel gently lowered her to the floor, her hand reaching out to him, “A-andi...?”

He reached out, caressing her fingers with his before rising all the way, looking down on her, “Wait for me, beloved. Only for a little while.”

With that he turned and walked way, Kyliska's weak pleas unheeded, “A-andi....n-no...please...”

In the center of the room the battle raged on, Biara and Tyavel darting in and out of danger, hurling spells at Seluna one after the other. The sky rained ice, the ground burned in flames. Arcane explosions ripped through the corpses laying all over the floor, and darts of bright magic fought back against the darkness that threatened to destroy both spellcasters. Although they were powerful, Seluna's completion of her ritual had made her stronger, and both Biara and Tyavel found their strength waning, their wards failing as spell after spell struck them. In the end, Seluna lashed out one final time, ripping through Biara's wards and hurling her to the ground.

Seluna laughed, standing over her daughter even as Tyavel fought in vain against her apparitions, her voice hollow and cold, “And so I now put an end to the one mistake in my life. That I ever thought to raise you properly is laughable to me now. Go, dear Biara'thiel, go now to your death. Go and be-”

Seluna's voice faltered, her eyes wide as she looked down in horror at her chest. There, lodged neatly through her heart was the dagger Biara had been carrying, the spellblade shimmering in and out of existence. Not of this time and place, her wards had done nothing to stop it, and it had cut through her flesh with ease.

Andithiel stood behind her, his grip on the blade firm, his voice echoing in Seluna's ear, “That was for Kyliska. For my men. For Biara. For all of the people that you have wronged in your years walking this world.”

Seluna's mouth opened and closed, blood gushing from it. She slipped to her knees as Andithiel pulled the knife free, his free hand coming to grasp her hair. Biara watched in morbid fascination, her eyes locked with her mother's as Andithiel brought the dagger up again, setting it to her throat.

“And this is for my unborn child, you murderous wench,” Andithiel said coldly, dragging the blade across Seluna's throat and executing her. He released her hair, pushing her forward to fall face first in the gore of her many victims, her body convulsing and pale scourge-fire beginning to glow around her.

For a moment the room was silent, Seluna's magic falling still as she passed, her transformation into a true lich beginning as her soul sought its new phylactery. In that moment there was a blinding flash of light, and all who looked were forced to close their eyes for a moment.

When Andithiel opened his eyes again, they widened in surprise as he took in three figures before him. One was kneeling on the floor, her flame red hair and features so similar to Biara's that he knew without even questioning that this was the true face of Biara's mother. Before her stood the ghostly apparition of a male Quel'dorei, a female Quel'dorei with glowing wings of light standing slightly behind him.

“And so your reign of terror comes to an end at last,” the Quel'dorei said, looking down sadly at the kneeling ghost before him. “Seluna Dawnsea, born Selun'athiel Dawnslight and living as Selun'athiel Dayfire....my wife. Time after time you were given mercy. Time after time you were given the opportunity to mend your ways, to heal your tattered soul and join me in true rest, and yet you were unable to see your mistakes for what they were, unable to see that your passions destroyed you.”

The ghost turned to look Andithiel in the eyes, and he had no doubt that he was speaking to the noble Tel'athar Dayfire. The ghost nodded at him once, his tone softening, “Thank you, champion, for freeing us of the burden of watching over her. The body you destroyed was freely given as a vessel to contain her, and we tried to help her find salvation through the Light. As you can see, her own thirst for power and her inability to grasp the consequences of her actions lead her to this end, to the pitiful state in which you see her. Let this be a lesson to you, and to others...power without wisdom, passion without love, these things are like bitter poison to the soul.”

The ghost turned looking down at Selun'athiel, pity in his eyes, “I am sorry my beloved, but you have gone too far, done too much. Your soul is bound now to the phylactery, but we have been granted one last gift, one last boon of the Light. You shall not rise again, but shall be sealed within it, never to interfere with this world again. Farewell, light of my heart. May your darkness never wax again.”

Selun'athiel's eyes widened in horror and she wailed, even as a column of Light intensified around the trio. In a blinding flash the three disappeared, the ghosts departed back to their afterlife, or punishment.

Andithiel nodded once, throwing the dagger on the floor with a clatter before turning and walking back towards where Selenthiel tended to Kyliska, his heart lighter as if a heavy burden had been lifted from him.

Behind him, Biara slowly got to her feet, walking to the place where her mother had been defeated and bending down to pick up the dagger, studying it thoughtfully, and staring for a time at the empty space where her father's ghost had stood. Tyavel moved to stand beside her, also studying the spot silently for a time.

“And so ends a threat to both our Houses, and perhaps begins a new dawning for them as well,” Tyavel said softly, looking at Biara and beyond to where Andithiel knelt beside Kyliska, his hand firmly holding hers as he leaned down to kiss her.

“So it does,” Biara said solemnly. “Let us never let it come to this point again. Let us stand together against this, so that our families can live in peace.”

“Agreed,” Tyavel said simply. She tilted her head, looking at Biara, “There is a matter of...this place, and House Dawnsea. They cannot be allowed to rebuild.”

Biara smirked, nodding at the other Magistrix, “You are correct.”

“After you then, Magistrix Sunfire,” Tyavel said.

“No, no, you have earned this honor. After you, Magistrix Felo'melorn,” Biara replied.

Tyavel offered a rare smile and nodded, turning away from the group and chanting. Flames shot from her hands, bathing the far walls and ceiling and igniting various flammable objects that had been in the room, catching the supports that held the marble in place in flames. Biara followed suit, her own fires joining that of Tyavel's, until the far side of the conjury was a roaring inferno. With a nod to one another, the two elves turned and walked towards their companions, each of them preparing portal spells.

Minutes later, a magical signal was sent out to Tyavel's apprentices, and all of the attack force began to withdraw towards portals, even as flames began to claim Dawnsea Estate.

Hours later, there would be nothing but charred ruins where the seat of House Dawnsea's power once stood.

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

As the portals flared and died, the surviving attackers returned to Sunfire Estate's courtyard, their jubilant cheers rising up. Tyavel stood apart from the group, watching silently as Sunfire and Felo'melorn alike rejoiced in their victory. She watched as Andithiel carefully held Kyliska in his arms, as if he worried that when he let her go she would be gone from him forever. She watched Kyliska's Blood Knights and her own apprentices congratulate each other, smiles on their faces as they shook hands and recounted tales of their bravery.

And she watched Biara Sunfire as she emerged from the crowd, her eyes looking around wildly as if searching for something, until a small child ran from the estate's main doors and into her arms. She watched the Magistrix pick up the small red-haired girl and hold her close, tears streaming down her face and a thousand “I love yous” passing from Biara's lips.

In that moment, Tyavel allowed herself to feel content again. She forgave herself for allowing her defenses to be breached, and congratulated herself for her cunning victory. A smile even passed over her face briefly as she watched the others, knowing that happiness would become the rule rather than the exception.

As she watched Andithiel kiss Kyliska again, and Biara holding her daughter, Tyavel's smile faded and was replaced by a frown.

She would be damned if she was babysitting any time soon.

With that she turned, slipping from the group and murmuring a spell to whisk her back to her own sanctum and a well deserved glass of the finest wine.

The Final Act- Part 1

*Felo'melorn Spire, Quel'Thalas, Evening*

Selenthiel felt restless and uneasy, as if there were a storm in the air fast approaching Quel'Thalas even though the land was never ravaged by nature. Unable to sleep, she had decided to take a walk through the dark halls of Felo'melorn spire in the hopes that the exercise would ease her mind or at least tire her enough to find rest. Many thoughts circled through her mind; little details of her meeting with Kyliska coming back to her and being turned and prodded as if to study the details. It was rare for her serenity to be so disrupted, and she knew that it was a sign that matters were even more dire than they first appeared.

I may need to bring war to our enemies. War in a time when we have seen so much bloodshed, so much destruction already. It is amazing to me that Biara ever could turn a hand towards this bloody trade, or that she could sleep at night when she did so. Did she have no reservations?

The thought swirled through her mind over and over and she walked down the long corridor, the magical lights illuminating it leaving small pools of cool soft light inter-spaced with long stretches of darkness. She felt as if she floated in the void each time she left the embrace of the light, and her dark thoughts intensified each time she did. Something nagged at the back of her mind, a siren call of warning that she could not shrug off. In the darkness she murmured a prayer of protection to the light.

The spire rumbled.

Selenthiel paused, her eyes wide. She had felt the stones almost lurch beneath her feet, and she reached out to place the flat of her palm against the cool marble of the corridor wall. For a moment, all was silent, and then the spire rumbled again, this time much more vigorously, as if the earth sought to throw the structure into ruin. Selenthiel gasped aloud, stumbling sideways and using her hand against the wall to keep herself upright.

The rumbling stopped a moment later only to renew in intensity. Distant sounds echoed through the hallway, and Selenthiel found herself tensely tilting her head, her long ears picking up the sounds of shouts in the distance. A second later the air before her shimmered, and a floating orb of magic appeared before her, twinkling in the gloom of night.

The voice of her sister Tyavel spat from the orb, urgency and strain in her tone, "Selenthiel! Someone is trying to breach our wards! Our spire is under assault! I will hold them back as much as I am able, but you must get to safety and then rally my apprentices! Go quickly! I cannot locate Andithiel!"

Selenthiel gasped as the orb was snuffed out. She lurched away from the wall, stumbling as the tower rumbled again before bursting into a full sprint down the hallway, her long gown trailing behind her and her footsteps echoing through the corridor. She dashed past closed doors and side corridors, her mind fixated on one singular thought that screamed in her mind.

"Because if we are to attack Seluna, that artifact needs to be kept safe at all costs. She cannot by no means ever get her hands on that artifact. Do you understand me?" Kyliska's voice seemed to yell in Selenthiel's thoughts.

Selenthiel rounded a corner, skidding to a halt as she almost ran into a group of House Felo'melorn guards heading in the opposite direction. She reached out, grabbing the arm of the sergeant in charge of the group, her voice a panting gasp, "We need to get to the eastern sanctum right away! Attackers are breaching our wards and I think I know where they're headed!"

Not even waiting for a response, Selenthiel turned and dashed down the hallway she'd pointed towards, the sounds of the guards' boots pounding behind her as they hurried to catch up with the Lady of the house. Ahead, Selenthiel could hear the sounds of combat as intruders tried to force their way into the corridor through several interconnected hallways.

"Quickly! We need to secure those openings. Three of you come with me into the sanctum! We need to secure that artifact!" Selenthiel shouted.

Her elven defenders responded to her commands instantly, several rushing down the side hallways to reinforce the beleaguered defenders and three of them following in Selenthiel's wake as she ran towards a closed set of double doors at the end of the hallway.

Selenthiel reached the doors and shoved them open, her heart pounding in her chest as she looked into the circular room beyond. With a sigh of relief she saw that the chamber was empty with the exception of a singular column of glowing blue arcane magic. Within the magic hung the half-tattered remains of a spellbook, a fragmented jewel glittering on the cover.

Selenthiel allowed herself a moment to breathe as her men filed into the room behind her. With a grim expression on her face, she slammed the doors leading into the chamber, laying a hand against them and activating wards that Tyavel had been wise enough to add in the event of an emergency.

"We cannot allow them to take this room, do you understand?" Selenthiel said, turning to face her men. "We must defend this artifact at all costs."

One of the elves nodded grimly, offering Selenthiel a salute, "Lady Felo'melorn, our lives are yours. We'll fight for you to the bitter end."

Selenthiel offered him a smile, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder and blessing him with her Light. "Let us hope that things do not become that dire. My sister is even now working to close the breaches in our defenses."

She moved into position behind the men, all four of them watching the barrier warily, hearing the sounds of combat echoing from the corridors beyond. Although Selenthiel mourned that she could not aid those of her House fighting outside of the chamber, she knew what dire consequences there would be if the room fell to the enemies of her House.

A moment later one of the doors shuddered as someone on the outside attempted to pull it open and was repelled by the wards. Muffled curses could be heard and then more pounding as weapons were used to strike the magically-reinforced wood. The barricade shuddered again as it was struck repeatedly, the attackers seeking to break it down.

Inside the chamber, Selenthiel and her men became tense as the assault on the door intensified. Each of them drew weapons, preparing themselves for the inevitable battle to come. A moment later the doors began to glow as magic struck them, until finally they both burst inward in a shower of broken splinters. Selenthiel's defenders shielded their eyes to avoid the flying debris as Selenthiel chanted, weaving protective wards over them to keep them safe from harm.

For a moment the gaping doorway was empty, the darkness of the hallway beyond filled only with faint silhouettes. A second later there was a shout and a half-dozen Sin'dorei attackers rushed into the room, weapons raised as they slammed into the thin line of defenders that Selenthiel lead. Behind them the darkness seemed to stir, vomiting out a black-haired, pale Sin'dorei with glowing blue eyes and a lacy black dress.

Ignoring the physical attackers for a moment, Selenthiel's eyes widened as she recognized Seluna Dawnsea. She brought her hands up, weaving holy spells around her and creating a burst of light in the room that made the other elf hiss in pain and shield her face. A moment later Seluna retaliated, tendrils of shadow whipping from her extended wrist and slamming into Selenthiel's shield, forcing the elf backwards and gouging deep ruts in the wall and floor around her.

In front of Selenthiel her men fought valiantly against overwhelming odds, swords flashing and warcries rising as elf fought elf in vicious melee. Selenthiel attempted to cast a healing spell, only to find Seluna's magical assault intensifying, interrupting her spells at crucial moments. In desperation, Selenthiel lashed out, a prayer to the Light flashing across the distance and slamming into Seluna's wards, making the elf shriek in pain.

Like a beast Seluna growled, the sound deep and echoing as if it came from beneath the ground. With a smirk on her face she quickly switched her focus, her spells slashing out into Selenthiel's men, cutting their protective wards to shreds. One of them was whipped across his torso, his blood spilling on the marble floor as he was thrown backwards. Another found his weapon grasped by a tendril of shadow just as he needed to defend himself, his enemies stabbing him brutally and then falling on the last of Selenthiel's defenders.

As the last elf fell to the marble floor with a clatter, the remaining attackers approached Selenthiel warily. The High Priestess of House Felo'melorn frowned, bringing her hands up in prayer, Light slashing outwards from her and burning those who would dare defile her house and home. Although Seluna attempted to shield her men, her darkness was overcome by the Light, and several of the elves stumbled backwards, immolated by holy flames.

"Enough!" Seluna shouted. With a snarl she extended her hands, whips of shadow magic striking out at Selenthiel's shields again and again. The High Priestess stumbled backwards as her wards failed one by one, gasping as here a tendril whipped her leg and there a spell burned her upper arm.

Seluna advanced across the room, mercilessly whipping Selenthiel with darkness, shredding the remaining defenses that the priestess had conjured, her power glowing purple in the dim room. Selenthiel cried out as she was thrown to the floor, shadowy tendrils whipping her again and again, her blood running from cuts on her arms, her legs, her torso, and even her cheek. Her dress was tattered, and her magic could barely keep her conscious as her enemy loomed over her.

Seluna smirked, reaching into the column of arcane magic in the center of the room. As her hand touched the blue light, darkness flowed from her flesh, corrupting the magic until it had turned purple. With a triumphant look on her face Seluna grasped the tattered book before looking down at the priestess laying on the floor at her feet.

"And so House Felo'melorn learns the lesson that all must learn; you will not stand against my will, my power. Go now into death knowing that you have given me the final key, the final piece I needed to complete my work and restore Quel'Thalas to the glory it once had...under my leadership," Seluna gloated.

She pointed down at Selenthiel, a tendril of shadows extending from her hand and wrapping around the wounded priestess's throat, the magic beginning to choke her as it squeezed her flesh. Even as Selenthiel gasped for breath, a disturbance could be heard in the hallway beyond.

Seluna's head whipped around as one of the guards at the doorway fell, an arrow protruding from his eye. Before anyone could react a second guard fell, an arrow in his heart, the projectiles flying from the dark corridor beyond with unerring accuracy. One of Seluna's men brought his shield up and an arrow found the artery at his groin. Another sought to shelter by crouching low and was struck in the head, falling unconscious from the blow to his helmet.

Seluna snarled, her power wrapped more tightly around Selenthiel's neck as an armored and armed elf stepped into the light of the chamber, a bow held taught in his hand, its arrow aimed at Seluna's heart.

"Ah, and so the favored son of the House seeks to be the hero," Seluna snarled. "Step no closer, or my power will snap your sister's neck like a twig."

Andithiel paused, staring hard at Seluna, his bow held steady and his voice stern, "You will follow her into death, monster." He took another step, circling to the right.

Seluna snarled, her magic tightening and causing Selenthiel to cry out, "If you seek to test my compassion or mercy you will find I have none to spare. I will slaughter her, and your arrow will do little to stop me. This is your last chance. Leave now and you will have lost only a sister and a tattered old book. Test me and you will join her in death."

Andithiel looked down at Selenthiel, studying her wounds and the blood on the ground. After a moment of consideration, he spoke softly, "Take me as hostage in exchange for her life."

Seluna's eyes widened for a moment, and her grip on Selenthiel lessened somewhat, "It has been long since I have seen such bravery. Long ago there was an elf, a brave, strong, handsome elf who displayed such qualities. One who understood honor. Honor that has been lost in these dark days. I am impressed, heir to Felo'melorn. Do you mean these words?"

Andithiel lowered his bow slightly, nodding, "I do. Take me and leave my sister alive. I will not fight you if she lives."

Seluna paused, the tension in the air like a storm between them. After a moment, she loosened her grip further, nodding, "I accept. Lower your weapon and she will go free."

Andithiel nodded, carefully setting his bow down on the ground beside him. Seluna smirked, her magic releasing Selenthiel who groaned in a half-unconscious state on the marble floor. She walked towards Andithiel, a hand reaching out to caress his face and making him nearly wretch from her touch, "Such honor and strength. When I complete my ritual and bring my beloved back, you will make a lovely vessel for him! Come, let us go towards our destiny."

With that she reached out and grabbed Andithiel, shadows wrapping around them and then dispersing. When the magic was gone, the two were gone.

A moment later the tower rumbled one last time and footsteps pounded down the long corridor outside the chamber. Tyavel burst into the room, a number of her apprentices in tow and all of them armed to the teeth with magical artifacts, staves, wands, and with spells at their fingertips.

Tyavel paused, surveying the room before rushing over to Selenthiel. She knelt beside her sister, rolling her onto her back and sighing in relief as she saw that her wounds were not fatal. She glared as she turned her head, seeing the dark purple column of magic where her spells had been corrupted.

From the ground beside her, Selenthiel coughed once, her voice a whisper in the stillness of the chamber, "S-she....took....A-andi....Andithiel...S-seluna...Dawnsea."

Although Selenthiel could not see the expression on Tyavel's face, the apprentices with her could and all took an involuntary step back as they witnessed actual rage pass across her features. Tyavel rose, a storm in her eyes as she stared into the glowing purple column of magic. Her voice was cold and tense, like the most wicked winter wind.

"Get our scrying orb ready to contact Kyliska Sunfire and get the rest of the apprentices ready. No one touches my spire, my FAMILY without paying the price. House Dawnsea dies this night."

With that she turned, kneeling beside her sister as her apprentices scrambled to make preparations. Within an hour, a magical signal would go out from the spire, reaching across Quel'Thalas and awakening Kyliska from her slumber to hear the dire news.

To hear of the last offense that either of the two Houses would ever tolerate from Seluna Dawnsea.