Sunlight slanted down across the dew-laden scrub brush of the plaguelands, the light reflecting back in a thousand broken sparkles in the morning's light. The beauty of the scene was lost on Avielle however as her scourged gaze swept across the ground, continuing to follow the trail of hoof-prints that a horse had left in the soft soil.
She had been tracking the path of the strange Knight from the Ghostlands all night and into the early morning, her lack of need for sleep a boon in moving quickly. Tirelessly she and her undead steed plodded onwards, moving ever further into the more wild regions of the plaguelands.
Hours had passed with nothing but the twisted dead scenery and occasional burned out building that was once a part of the mighty nation of Lordaeron before its fall. Now and then Avielle had encountered roaming undead, but they generally left her be as she herself was undead and far more powerful. Zombies were stupid, but they weren't that stupid.
As she progressed, a shape began to take form in the distance; an old watchtower that was once part of Lordaeron's holdings. Dilapidated now, it rose like a broken, crooked tooth from the brown soil and stabbed up into the sky; a would-be eyesore if any living eyes were present to take in the sight. As she drew nearer to the tower, Avielle began to realize that the trail she was following was heading directly towards it. After another half hour had passed, she was firm in her conviction that this was the case, and she yanked on the reins to halt her mount.
Across the barren, dead earth between her and the tower nothing stirred. No banners or pennants fluttered from the broken crown of the ruined building, and all was in stillness around Avielle. She stared hard at the structure in the distance, unmoving as she studied her destination.
Her patience was rewarded when she spied movement along the tower's base. Distant figures exited from one of the black openings into the structure, moving lazily away from it as if patrolling its perimeter. Even from this distance, Avielle could see the wings and red flesh of demons as they walked, and her eyes narrowed as she connected the creatures with the dead Felhunters she'd found at the battle site in the plaguelands.
With a grin, Avielle drew her horn from her belt, bringing it to her lips and letting forth a long, wailing blast. It echoed across the distance, the mournful sound a warning to all that a death knight hunted now. In the distance, the figures became frantic, pointing at her and running in her direction. She grinned wickedly, snapping the reins and letting her deathcharger begin its dash towards her prey. She reached back and drew her rune-spear, holding it before her like a lance, steed and rider gaining momentum with every thunderous fall of the deathcharger's hooves.
In her battle-lust, Avielle never noticed how the sunlight reflected from her speartip. She never realized how much like a Argent Crusader she must have looked, charging from the rising dawn, lance ahead of her to plunge into the heart of evil.
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Kyliska shifted in her cell, her manacle clinking against the cold stones of the cell's floor. She crawled as far as she was able, reaching the supplies that the imposter had left for her. She sat beside them for a moment, her eyes fixated not on the food and water, but on the hookah and blood thistle that had been left for her.
Once long ago she'd been addicted to the herbs. She remembered vividly how good they had made her feel, how powerful. That they were here now, in her lowest low when all the world had fallen down around her was a temptation she was finding it hard to resist.
What does it matter if I do it? I'm never getting out of here anyway. No one knows I'm gone, no one cares. If I'm going to die here, I might as well enjoy the one thing that can make me forget all of this for a moment.
Her hands shook as the desire to relieve the stress and lose herself in the herb took hold. She didn't care anymore and none of it mattered. If she was to be forced to watch another live her life, enjoy the company of her lover, then she was going to use the herb and go far away from it all to a place where she felt happy and content.
Slowly she took the hookah and slid it towards herself. She opened the top, placing the blood thistle inside and igniting it before closing the lid. Her hands shook even more now as she took up the pipe, preparing to lose herself in the herb's embrace. Her life was over now and it was best to just let it go.
She brought the pipe to her lips, her eyes closing as she prepared to inhale the highly addictive drug. She felt her heart racing as the old feelings for the herb flowed through her again. Just as she was about to inhale, a loud bang startled her and caused her to open her eyes in surprise.
A second bang rocked the room, the sound of something heavy pounding against the wooden door that sealed off the dungeon's cells from the hallway beyond. Kyliska stared hard at the barrier, her heart beating quickly in her chest and the un-smoked herb sending a curl of smoke up into the air from the hookah beside her.
The third bang shattered the barrier as a heavy form was thrown through it. Kyliska dropped the hookah in shock as she watched the very dead, mangled form of a Wrathguard slide across the stone floor and come to a halt against the far wall of the prison block.
The cell room was guarded, as it always was, by demons. A second Wrathguard surged to its feet from further down the line of cells, rushing towards the shattered barrier as a lithe figure entered through the opening. Kyliska took in the sight of her in an instant, seeing a strange blonde-haired elf strolling casually towards the charging demon, a glowing spear in her hand.
The Wrathguard's blades came down, one after another, and the spear-wielder reacted with cat-like reflexes. Her weapon whirled, the weapon deflecting one blow and parrying a second. The elf spun the spear around her body like a top and slammed the point into the demon's chest so hard that it burst out of its back. The creature howled, falling backwards into ruin as the spear-wielder slashed it three more times for good measure.
The intruder turned, rushing towards Kyliska's cell and causing her to cringe back against the far wall of her prison. The elf's blonde hair fell over half her face, messy from combat, but her exposed eye glowed with a foul blue light that fixed on Kyliska with an intensity that made her shudder. The elf set her spear down for a moment, reaching out and taking the bars to the cells in both hands, beginning to bend the solid steel with unnatural strength that confirmed Kyliska's fearful suspicions; there was a death knight trying to break into her cell for some reason.
From behind the intruder came the sound of a foul little giggle, and the death knight blinked in surprise as a barbed whip wrapped itself around her body. Kyliska noted that the barbs dug into the elf's flesh deeply, but only a small amount of blood oozed out of the wounds. Rather than looking pained, the elf actually rolled her eyes in irritation, even as the succubus that had been tormenting Kyliska for so long yanked the whip back and spun the death knight around.
The death knight wasted little time, reaching out and using her power to wrap dark tendrils of shadow around the succubus, dragging her close. The foul demon actually panted in excited surprise as her body was slammed against the dead elf's and she was slowly choked by an icy cold grip on her neck. The panting turned into howls as the death knight reached out and literally tore one of her wings off before spinning the demon around and snapping her neck with her bare hands.
Tossing the dead succubus aside, the death knight picked her spear up and slashed the bars of the cell, causing them to shatter from the cold of the weapon. She stepped through the opening and leveled the spear at Kyliska, her voice hollow and cold, "You. You are Kyliska Sunblade, now known as Kyliska Sunfire?"
Resigned to her fate, Kyliska brought her head up, her voice firm, "I am."
The dead elf reached out, grabbing Kyliska's arm in a firm, icy grip. Kyliska instantly felt nausea pass through her at the touch of the unholy being, and watched in surprise as the flesh on the dead elf's arm began to crack and flake from contact with her holy form. The undead elf released her grip, her voice a soft whisper under her breath, "At last..."
The death knight brought her spear up and Kyliska closed her eyes as the weapon descended, prepared for death. She was utterly shocked when the blade slammed into the manacle on her ankle, the weapon shearing through the metal and sparking as it bounced off the floor of the cell.
Kyliska's eyes opened wide as the death knight fell to her knees before her, her head bowed. She could swear she saw tears in the other's eyes as she spoke, "Kyliska Sunblade, I am Avielle Silverlight, heir of House Silverlight, allied to House Sunblade in accordance with agreements signed by both our fathers. Know that I come now to uphold the vows of my House, and that we of Silverlight have never forgotten and will never forget our oaths to you and yours. My blade, my power, is in your service Lady Sunblade."
Kyliska's mouth opened and closed, utterly shocked. She struggled to come to terms with what was happening, even as the strange elf lifted her head and stared straight into her eyes with her glowing orbs. Her next words rocked Kyliska to her core.
"Know that your father, Kelthias Sunblade, bade me tell you that he loves you. Know that these were the last words he spoke in life, and that his thoughts were ever on you and your mother Sassariel, even as he gave his life to protect the innocent of Quel'Thalas. His sacrifice, his honor, will never be forgotten by those of Silverlight for as long as I exist."
A strangled cry escaped Kyliska as emotions crashed through her, tears pouring freely from her eyes now as she began to sob. She felt elation flow through her, relief at finally knowing how her father had died, at knowing that he had thought of her before his life ended, at knowing that he had died a hero. Questions flowed through her, a thousand points she wanted to ask, beg, shout at the strange undead elf before her. Instead, she managed to croak out only a single sentence, "Thank you...thank you so much. You cannot know what that means to me..."
A look of relief flashed across Avielle's face as she rose to her feet. Her voice was soft now and soothing as she spoke to Kyliska, "Lady Sunblade...the tower is on fire. We need to get you out of here, get you to safety. Are you able to walk?"
Kyliska looked down at herself, at the filth that covered her and the blood on her ankle. She looked back up and nodded grimly, "I can try."
With that, she attempted to rise, a gasp escaping her as her injured ankle gave out on her. She tumbled back towards the floor, only to find the icy cold grip of the death knight holding her. Avielle's face was inches from hers as she spoke, "I will carry you from this place if not. No harm will come to you as long as I exist, this I swear. Come Lady Sunblade, it is time to go home."
With that Avielle hoisted Kyliska up, carrying her across her shoulder. She winced in pain as Kyliska's blessed form remained in contact with her, a soft hiss escaping her lips. For her part, Kyliska's world spun crazily around her, her weakness mixing with the touch of the unholy to make her feel sick. Her nose was filled with the strange scent of dead roses that came from the death knight as Avielle carried her from her cell. Kyliska's last sight of that place was of the un-smoked hookah, a trail of blood thistle smoke coming from its lid fading from view a moment later.
The hallway beyond the cells was long and narrow, the ruined tower's fortifications long since compromised. Beyond the end of the hall daylight stabbed through the broken opening of the tower's side, and in the dim light of the hallway Kyliska could see flames licking up the side of rotting support beams.
The hallway itself was littered with dead imps, their twisted bodies on the ground near a deathcharger. The undead horse was happily grazing on one of the imp's skulls, the sick crunching sound of bone being ground up coming from it as it chewed its meal. Kyliska felt herself being hoisted higher by Avielle's icy cold grip as she was placed gently in the saddle, the death knight leaping up behind her. A saronite plated arm wrapped around Kyliska's abdomen, keeping her in place as Avielle snapped the reins and urged the horse to a gallop.
The flaming hallway passed by them quickly, daylight suddenly surrounding them and making Kyliska squint and hold a hand to her eyes, the world spinning again as sickness stayed with her. Explosions rocked the ground around them as imps hurled fireballs at them from the tower's exterior, and Avielle wrapped her cloak around Kyliska, anti-magic wards shielding the wounded paladin as they galloped away.
Kyliska felt Avielle grunt a few times as she was struck by errant spells before they were clear of the tower's radius. Ahead of them a form rose up, a doomguard cackling as it prepared to hurl a spell at them. Avielle snapped the reins hard, her steed picking up momentum and hurtling towards a collision with the demon.
Kyliska's eyes widened and she cried out as it appeared they would slam into the demon, but Avielle shifted behind her and a spear hurtled through the air, shattering the demon's skull just as the deathcharger jumped, narrowly clearing the falling demon's body. Avielle yanked her spear from the creature's skull as they passed, and they galloped into the open plains beyond, free of their attackers at last.
In shock, exhausted and wounded, Kyliska felt her pulse slowly start to slow down. The questions in her mind continued to buzz, but a lethargy came over her as she finally felt safe for once. She found herself leaning back against the death knight behind her, her head against the solid armor that Avielle wore. The galloping of the deathcharger as they headed back towards Quel'Thalas combined with her exhaustion to slowly rock Kyliska to true, restful sleep finally.
As she drifted off, Kyliska's last thought was amusement at the fact that she heard no heartbeat through the armor of the elf that she was leaning against.
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