Life's Canvas

                The world around her was imaginary, a plain of existence extended within the mind of her captor, and yet, for Seluna, it was the most peace she’d experienced in many years. A portion of the land was a mighty fortress in the distance, standing tall across the empty expanse, watchful, impregnable. Yet a corner of the land had been carved for her, and in her moments of wakefulness she had a beautiful little estate, the gardened lands spreading for acres in all directions, stocked with fruits and berries and filled with things for her to do.

                She still wasn’t sure what to make of it, and it changed each time she awoke. She didn’t know why Kaelus was giving her this space when they were at war, but with each passing day it was easier to think, to be herself for a moment and not the undead creature she’d been forced to become.

                This time she awoke with a surprise; the estate’s normally bright adobe walls were bleached white, with large swathes of them empty and seemingly begging for decoration. She pondered this for a few minutes, bemused. What was Kaelus thinking with this change? What had she intended? Perhaps she’d accidentally forgotten to complete some project?

                The world was one of the mind, and Seluna had some sway in her corner. On a whim she smirked and concentrated, a set of fine brushes and brilliant paints appearing in a case on the ground before her. She picked them up, humming softly to herself, her thoughts far from the strange mental landscape. Slowly she began to dip a brush in the first pot of paint, hesitant with the first stroke but gaining confidence from memories and experiences long since buried. In the peaceful quiet, she painted…

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

                Hours later, or perhaps days depending on the strange movement of time in the imaginary landscape, Kaelus would come to check in on her uninvited guest. It was never wise to leave an angry wraith unattended when it was trying to possess your mind, even if it had seemed to calm down as of late.

                As Kaelus entered the open doors of the estate she would pause, her eyes widening in surprise. Every wall was covered with murals, each painted in meticulous detail by the hands of a master of her craft. Each scene was lovingly taken from a favorite memory, and Kaelus would gently touch a few of the murals as she passed deeper into the interior of the estate.

                Here there was an image of a young, red-haired Seluna playing with her first kitten as a child. There a picture of her riding her first hawkstrider, the joy of the ride captured perfectly on her teenage face. Further in were beautiful murals of the forests of Eversong and, surprisingly, Lordaeron; memories of some of Seluna’s favorite travels in her youth.

                As she passed into the next room, one of the murals made Kaelus pause and nearly break out in laughter. There, depicted in all its glory, was a picture of Biara Dayfire as a young teenager, her form outfitted in thick padded armor and astride a hawkstrider, lance in hand as she charged an opponent down the lanes of a tourney. The determination on Biara’s face, the pride as she was just about to clip her opponent perfectly with the lance, was exquisitely detailed. In the corner of the drawing was an older Seluna, this time a mother, looking on and secretly smiling at her daughter’s success. Kaelus got a distinct sense from the arrangement of her own body’s position that Seluna’s delight at her daughter’s jousting was a secret thing, kept from her daughter for whatever reason, likely jealousy or disapproval at such a martial skill.

                Shaking her head and still smiling, Kaelus would pass into the innermost courtyard of the estate, where she would pause. There, laying on the floor in peaceful sleep, lay her captive/invader. But it was not the raging, vile wraith that rested, one arm cradling her head. The black hair had faded to natural red, the scowl and rage had faded into the simple of smile of one who dwells in a place of contentment.

                And on the wall behind her, a glorious mural of a mid-summer’s faire, the starry night sky lit up by blasts of golden and red fireworks made of magic flowing from the hands of a beautiful young magistrix, her blue eyes gazing in awe at the beauty she was creating as a crowd stood around her cheering. One amongst them smiled wider than the others, his tall, muscular form, broad shoulders, and charmingly rugged good looks captured in the smallest details. Kaelus realized that here she was seeing the first blooming of a love that would change countless lives, for better and worse.

                After a moment Kaelus discovered that she was grinning like an idiot and shook her head. With one last curious glance at the sleeping wraith, she gently backed out of the room, marveling at the captured moments as she left, leaving her guest to the first peace she’d had in a very, very long time.

Interfering with Fate

*Plaguelands, several days ago beneath the ruins of a village of Lordaeron.*

It was dark within the ruins, the light of day penetrating no further than the dust covered stairs leading down into the depths. Beyond the stairs, what seemed to be miles of corridors stretched out beneath a seemingly innocent looking ruined library within a long abandoned human settlement. The plaguelands were full of such ruins, and this one would have been no different, if not for the scent of magic within it.

Magic is what drew the Legion. Magic is what caused the felhunters to pause near the ruined library, their demonic snouts pressed to the ground as they detected the faint hint of it deep beneath the surface. And so the little raiding party had paused in its movements, spending some time to root out the source of the power to destroy it or claim it in the Legion's glory to further the destruction of the pathetic world of Azeroth.

Only it had not been that easy. First the secret passage had to be located, and then, to the surprise of all of the demonic forces present, extremely powerful wards had to be removed and the entryway had to be excavated. Faarhi, the Eredar leading the raiding party, tapped one of her hooves impatiently as she waited to hear news from the advanced party she had sent down into the depths below. They had been using human slaves captured from the nearby countryside to do most of the work and to clear the wards, and the group she'd sent down had been made up of mostly slaves and a few felguards to keep them in line as they cleared the way.

Faarhi paused her restless tapping, her red and black robes shifting as an ear-splitting scream echoed up from the chambers below. She rolled her fel-fire eyes, looking around at the interior of the library itself which was already littered with numerous dead humans that had fallen victim to the magical wards on the place. And now, judging by the sounds, the rest of her slaves had likely met similar fates. What could be so important beneath the earth that such powerful magics were used to defend it?

Whatever it was, it would belong to the Legion, and Faarhi would be the one to claim it. With a sigh she began her descent down into the depths, her hooves making loud noises on the ancient stones as darkness closed in around her. She whispered a word of magic, a ball of felfire hovering in the air near her shoulder to illuminate the path ahead.

Although the tunnel system truly was a labyrinth, it appeared that her advanced party had only chosen one tunnel to travel down. Side passages loomed in the darkness, but many were blocked with fallen debris while the path forward was cleared. Cautiously she moved, occasionally stepping over the body of a fallen human who had become victim to one of the many concealed wards in the passageway. She sensed no magic in the tunnel itself, meaning her slaves had done their work and died for the Legion, clearing the magical defenses for her.

The tunnel was not overly long, and soon ended in a doorway that lead to a circular chamber beyond. The door itself had many fallen bodies around it, several of them being her felguards. She approached more cautiously, stepping over them gingerly and peering into the room.

There was not much to say of the interior. It was a small, circular chamber cut into the ground and lined with stone. Much of the floor space was littered with treasure; golden coins spilled haphazardly and mixed with priceless gems and a spattering of magical items. It was not these that drew her eye though as she stepped over the bodies of two more fallen human slaves, instead it was the dais in the center of the room. The stone column was waist-high and Light glowed from its top, surrounding a dark book with a deep purple gem set in its cover. It was here that the magic was strongest, it was this that had attracted her felhunters from above the ground.

Faarhi smirked, moving further into the chamber. Light! It was always Light that the pitiful humans of this world clung to. Even though it would never save them from the Legion's might. Any relic they protected with Light was important, was something to be corrupted or destroyed to weaken them, and here was one before her, unguarded now and defenseless. With a casual gesture, Faarhi brought a hand up over the glowing, holy wards around the book and spoke a word of darkness, snuffing the Light out forevermore.

In the darkness, something sighed as if pent up energies stored for an extended period of time had finally been released. The temperature in the room plunged in seconds, and Faarhi looked around the chamber cautiously, feeling uneasy all of a sudden. There was a gust of wind that ruffled her skirts, as if air had rushed in from some outside source, enhancing the chill that she felt.

Carefully, still looking for hidden wards or other traps, Faarhi leaned forward and opened the book on the dais to see what it contained and to judge how she might make use of it. To her surprise, the pages within were blank, and she flipped past page after page finding only empty nothing within. That changed a moment later when words began to form on one of the blank pages, and Faarhi's eyes widened as she read the story that appeared.

Once upon a time there was an Eredar too foolish for her own good. She delved into places she did not belong, and meddled with powers she did not understand. In the end, her thirst for power doomed her.

Faarhi quickly retreated from the dais, looking around the room in a panic. Clearly she had triggered some trap or something dangerous, although it was not clear what. Her confusion was answered a moment later as disembodied laughter filled the room, echoing here and there within the hollow chamber.

"Who's there? Who dares to defy the Legion?!" Faarhi shouted at nothing.

A sultry, feminine voice replied from seemingly beneath the ground, the sound horrifying, "You come into my sanctum and dare to question me? Do you have any idea of what you've done? Any idea of the torture you have just freed me from? I should repay you by allowing you to live, but I don't quite like your tone..."

"I am from the planet Argus and am amongst the most powerful races within the Legion!" Faarhi replied in anger. "How dare you presume to talk to me in such a manner? Whatever power you come from, whatever fuels you, I will have it for my own. Now show yourself!"

"As you wish...Eredar," the voice replied. Flames flared to life all around the room, dozens of candles igniting as magic poured into the hollow space. Wind rushed past Faarhi, ruffling her robes again and seemingly howling around one of the dead slaves laying on the floor near the entrance. The deceased woman was laying on her stomach, her sightless eyes staring at nothing from beneath a mound of red hair. To Faarhi's everlasting horror, a blue glow began to shine from those dead, staring eyes and the corpse began to twitch. It snapped and popped, as if its joints were not working properly.

Faarhi turned to stare down the dead woman as she rose from her place on the floor stiffly, her neck bent at an odd angle as the glow in her eyes intensified to an ice blue. With another pop her head tilted in the correct orientation, those blue orbs now affixed on Faarhi. The voice that came from her mouth was mortal now, although it had a tinge of the otherworldly echo heard earlier, "Satisfied now, Eredar?"

Faarhi smirked, shaking her head, "A ghost or wraith! I am not afraid of you. Once you are destroyed I will take your precious book with me to be examined by our necromancers, and you will be summoned again to serve the Legion. Now die again little thing."

With that she flicked her wrist, a ball of felfire hurtling towards the dead woman as easily as one might casually toss a stone. A moment later the ball of magic slammed into invisible wards, the flames exploding around the dead woman and never touching her, scorching the floor all around her.

As Faarhi looked on with shock, the woman smirked, her eyes glowing more brightly now and the red of her hair seeming to become brighter as if the spirit within was growing stronger and more accustomed to its shell. Her voice was tainted with malice as she spoke, "Your education in such matters is....severely deficient. Sadly you will not live to report back to the Legion about this or anything else my dear Eredar. I have need of your power."

The woman lurched forward suddenly, and to Faarhi's horror her hands came up and icy cold magic flared at her fingertips, slamming into the Eredar and throwing her backwards. She hit the dais hard,tumbling over it and falling with it on the hard floor behind her. She brought up her own magic to shield herself, only to feel the spell be shredded by the unexpectedly powerful enemy she faced. In a panic she brought her hands up again, and an icy cold spell slashed into her, severing many of her fingers. She screamed in pain as a shadow loomed over her.

The woman stood there, her dead, cold eyes staring down at her. There was no question in Faarhi's mind that it was not the spirit of the slave she'd sent down to her death. No, something else was in the woman, smirking at her behind those eyes. Something so filled with malice that it would have put many demons to shame. With a shaking voice Faarhi managed to get a few choked words out, "W-what...are you? Who are you....?"

The woman smiled as that cold, deadly magic flared up on her fingertips again as she brought her hands up. Her response was the last thing Faarhi the Eredar would hear as magic slashed into her face and throat, the sound like a ringing peel of damnation, "I am Selun'athiel Dayfire, born of House Dawnsea in Quel'Thalas. But you...you can call me Mistress Seluna as you serve me in undeath."

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

Hours later a lone figure walked down one of the empty roads in the plaguelands, a pack on her back jingling with the sound of coin, and a book tucked neatly into a pouch on her belt. The red-haired woman paused, surveying the road ahead and the distant sight of the ruins of the Scarlet Enclave beyond. It was there she would find her first contacts amongst the Ebon Blade. There she would begin her path forward and find those she sought.

And then? Then, everyone who had ever sheltered Biara Dayfire would pay.

Links to the Past

The door to the old estate house had long since fallen to ruin, and Biara paused before it, her hopes dwindling as she examined the ruined structure. Lost deep in the now untamed forests of the Ghostlands, the estate had likely once been a magnificent Quel'dorei home that was now lost to time. That the structure had fallen during the scouring of Quel'Thalas was undoubted; the walls nearest to the entryway had arrow shafts still sticking from them when weapons had flown off course and the stones beneath the plaster were blackened with the marks of old spells and fires.

Despite the ruination before her, Biara took a deep breath and stepped through the opening, roaming deeper into the ruins. Although she expected that she would find only a sad tale long since lost, she knew that this estate, this address, was the last registered for the Lord and Lady Silverdawn after their marriage. If there were to be any clues as to the fate of Lirathel Dawnslight or her new husband, these ruins would contain them.

As she passed through the remains of the estate, Biara noted many rooms still contained their furnishings, although many were also destroyed. It appeared as if the inhabitants of the place had not had time to flee with their belongings, and several parts of the grounds had evidence of heavy fighting within the walls themselves. There were, of course, no bodies; there never were after a scourge attack.

Believing her best chance at finding clues would lie within the remains of the couple's personal quarters, Biara made her way carefully over fallen furnishings and half-collapsed walls, finding the larger master bedroom deeper within the place. As with the rest of the structure, it had long since been abandoned, although it was in less disarray when compared to the other rooms thanks to being so deep within the estate's walls.

With a whispered word of magic Biara conjured an orb before her, setting it to hover over her shoulder and illuminating the room. Strange shadows danced as her own silhouette was projected in front of her, but the light was sufficient to see a large bed, a closet with a door that hung open with various moldy old clothes laying before it, and several tables, chairs, and divans scattered about. One other piece of furniture immediately caught Biara's eye and she slowly walked towards the bed, her hand coming out to touch a sturdy chest that sat at the foot of it. Unmarked by battle, forgotten by time, the object had sat alone in the darkness for over a decade.

With a whisper of magic Biara unlocked the chest, lifting the lid up and peering within. As to be expected, it contained many much less moldy pieces of clothing, several of them fancy dresses or shoes that would be worn at formal events. Biara grinned when she pushed these aside and found a small wooden container that, once opened, revealed itself to be filled with documents. She whispered another spell, the magic seeking out traces of her own mother's touch, realizing that anything within the chest would have been written by Lirathel herself or perhaps her husband or captains.

Immediately one letter amongst the pile glimmered with magic, and Biara took it up, unfolding it and reading it slowly.

My Dearest Niece,
It has been too long since you have come to visit, although I can lay little fault for that in your lap. I understand why you and Lethas have become hermits in your woodland estate. Once, long ago, I found myself in the same position that you are in now. As I've told you in the past, the pressure to do what the family wishes is great and never-ending. Though you marry out of Dawnslight, the will of my own father as well as my brother will always beat down upon you, regardless of your house or name.

There are times when I wish I had taken the same course as you, my dear. When I wish I had just run with Tel'athar to the furthest reaches of Quel'Thalas to live in seclusion and simply enjoy our love for what it was. The chance to do that, the choice to do that, has long since passed for me however. I must play the part I was born to play, as must we all. Though you have escaped the pressure from your father for now, I fear any time you return to the city it will bear down upon you again. Enjoy what you have with Lethas, and worry not for me. It's not like disagreeing with our 'patriarch' from time to time will result in assassination attempts, right? We're all family, and these disagreements tend to come and go.

As for you, I wish you the happiest of times. Never did you look more radiant than on your wedding day. I will try to slip out to visit you whenever I may, as it is easier when Tel'athar is tending to business elsewhere in the kingdom. We will talk of magic and I will keep you up to date on what transpires in the city. Who knows, perhaps in the near future we will be discussing the coming of your first child if you and Lethas remain close and free of the political influences that can poison your love.

I will write again soon, Lirathel. Until then, remember I am here should you need me. Be well!
Love,
Aunt Seluna

Biara nearly dropped the letter, so surprised was she by the contents. Her mother had always been a cold, distant person even from her earliest memories of the magistrix. To see Seluna in such a way, to know that she once had hopes, dreams, and loves that must have been slowly poisoned and strangled out of her by the pressure of her family, was heart-wrenching. Biara found tears in her eyes and quickly wiped them away, folding the letter up and tucking it into a pouch on her belt.

She quickly searched through the remaining letters there, finding many that hinted at the pressure House Dawnslight would place on the young married couple, just as Seluna had implied in her own correspondence. Nothing else immediately jumped out as useful however, so Biara closed the chest and cast a spell over it, sealing it and marking it for one of her elementals to come and collect for further analysis back at Sunfire Estate.

She rose up, looking around the ruined bedroom and frowning; did Lirathel and Lethas meet their fates here? Were they, even now, walking as the tormented undead somewhere in the world? The thought was a disturbing one, for Biara had come to think fondly of her lost cousin and hoped that their tale ended in a happier place.

She shook her head, deciding that there may be additional clues elsewhere in the ruins. The bedroom would not have been a place used for a last stand after all! Quickly she began to search the other rooms, looking for clues as to what kind of battle had overtaken the estate and whether or not anyone had survived. Evidence would be scarce after such a long time, but even so there might be something she could locate that would help point her in the right direction.

A break-through came when she entered the main parlor, finding it in ruins but in a different manner from the rest of the building. Here all of the furniture had been pushed towards the doors, and furniture from other rooms had been dragged in and set as piles before several openings that lead to other parts of the estate. The door Biara entered had been forced open from the outside and bore much evidence of battle damage including arrow shafts and deep cuts and claw marks in the wood. It was clear that some sort of major battle had occurred in this room, and the floor was stained with the rot of old blood spilled long ago.

In the center of the ruined room stood a table, protected from the elements by the study walls and ceiling still standing over them. As Biara approached, she realized that the large document on top was a map, long since faded with time. Although she could barely make it out, it appeared to be of the estate grounds and surrounding forests, and many marks had been made on it conveying the location of what had likely been scourge forces. In the center of the map, a dagger was stuck through the document, pinning it to the wooden surface of the table. Biara reached out to touch it, the weapon falling free and pulling the map over with it. To Biara's surprise, a letter was revealed, pinned to the wooden table beneath the map and hidden from immediate view, likely intentionally.

Carefully Biara picked up the old letter, her heart racing as she recognized Lirathel's handwriting on it. She began to read, her eyes devouring the words on the page.

Captain Skylark,
We've held out here for as long as we can. There is no end in sight to the number of undead that assault these grounds from the forests around us. With Lethas out scouting, I rallied what soldiers we had on hand and even conscripted the servants to fight. I am proud to say we held this estate for more than a day, but it will all be in vain if we stay any longer.

I know that I promised I would wait for you and the other rangers to return before we left, but I cannot in good conscience keep our unarmed civilians in such danger for a moment longer. Lethas has just returned with his own men and reported that they have a clear route to the anchorage. We will abandon this post and flee for House Silverdawn's ship that is docked there. We're taking the remaining men and all of the servants and staff with us to safety. 

I pray you return before the noon sun and retrieve this missive, that you may join us in flight. If you do not but somehow return later, know that we will reunite with you at the properties that Lethas owns in the gardens of Silvermoon City. It is our hope that we can join with Silvermoon's main military forces and aid in the defense of our city. We will make that determination once we are out to sea and can find a place to safely anchor that is not overrun by the walking dead. 

Know that I will not forget you, nor the brave actions of your men. Know also that I will see your work complete and see these civilians to safety even if I must draw my last breath to do so. Farewell, Captain, and may the sun shine on your blade until there are no more foes to strike down.
Respectfully,
Lady Lirathel Silverdawn

Biara found her hopes soaring as she read the letter, her eyes wide. Lirathel had been alive and well when she wrote the missive, and seemed to have a valid escape plan from the scourge threat! She might have survived! Biara quickly folded the letter back up and set it in her pouch with the first she'd found. Although there would be no way to trace the small force lead by Lirathel and Lethas after so much time had passed, she had mentioned Lethas's properties in Silvermoon. Biara had seen records of them, but had not searched there first as that part of the city was still in ruins and it had not been listed as their primary residence in the old census records she'd found.

Still, there was a chance that the couple had successfully fled, and if so, they may have done as Lirathel indicated and returned to that property to regroup. It was a good clue and something she could check relatively easily. She paused, glancing around at the rest of the ruined room. Although there could be more details here, they would likely be of Lirathel's life before the fall of Quel'Thalas and would not help Biara much in locating her. If the elf was still alive, she could tell Biara all about such times and about her relationship with Seluna as well.

"The word 'if' being the question of course," Biara murmured. With a nod of determination she brought her hands up, opening a portal to Silvermoon. It was time to move on to the next step of her investigation. 

A Link to the Past

                The door to the storage room was stuck fast with rust, dust, and the age of time. The guard standing in front of Biara shot her an apologetic smile as he jingled the key in the lock, forcing it slowly so as not to snap the implement before finally getting it to turn. Once the portal was unlocked, he strained against the wooden barrier for a moment before managing to free it from where it had stuck in the doorframe, yanking it open and exposing the dusty storage room beyond.

                “This is where we found the chest, my Lady,” the guard said, pointing into the room. “You can see it there standing beside that stack of barrels. We’ve checked most of the other items in the room and they’re just old weapons, covered pieces of furniture, or military supplies long since forgotten and likely not of any use anymore.”

                “Thank you. I’d like some time to examine the chest alone if you wouldn’t mind,” Biara said to the guard.

                “Of course, Lady Dayfire. If you need anything I’ll be at the post up the hall,” the guard replied before bowing deeply and leaving the room.

                Biara waited for the guard to depart before walking slowly into the musty storage chamber. The room had been sealed off for some time, and it was clear that it had once been used to store a variety of older items that House Dawnsea had intended to save but had no real use for. There were a few areas of Sunfire Estate that had yet to be cleared out, and this particular chamber had been discovered during one such effort. Unlike many of the others however, this one had an item in it that was of particular interest, and Biara had been called to come and examine it.

                The chest stood just where the guard had indicated it would be, and Biara found herself approaching it with a mix of anxiety and curiosity. Slowly she sank down to her knees before it, leaning forward to examine the object. Made of some imported, highly polished wood with golden metal brackets along each corner and a golden lock, it had accumulated decades of dust as a result of being shut away for so long. Biara found herself reaching out to touch it, her hand running across the wood and gold and wiping the dust away from a plate upon the front of it above the magical lock-ward. There, inscribed in the gold, were the two letters S.D.

                “Selun’athiel Dawnslight,” Biara whispered softly, her mother’s name coming to her lips unbidden.

                Carefully, Biara reached out with her other hand and placed it upon the chest as well. Her fel green eyes slipped closed as she focused on the object, checking for any latent magics within it before uttering the words to a spell. There was a brief flash of light on her fingertips and then a click as the chest opened, her spell having breached the primitive locking spell that had kept it closed. Taking a deep breath, Biara opened her eyes and pushed the lid of the chest upwards, revealing the container’s contents.

                It was, to put it mildly, anticlimactic. Biara was greeted with the sight of folded, bundled clothes, a neatly tied stack of papers with some additional letters and envelopes that were piled atop the stack, and what appeared to be a small jewelry box that likely contained jewelry her mother had not liked enough to keep in her own chambers. Biara shook her head and sighed; clearly she had been called from her work for something that the guards could likely have handled, but even so it had been wise for them to call her and she was not angry with them. With Selun’athiel, one never knew what she’d hidden amongst her things and it was never wise to risk being struck by an errant spell if one could help it.

                Biara leaned forward, gathering up some of the bundled clothing and removing it from the chest. As she did so, she noted that they appeared to be long out of style and were likely quite old. They were also rather fancy, as if clothing one would wear to a prestigious event or major formal gathering. Biara grinned at this, the thought of her mother enjoying anything other than magic and destruction at odds with her last memories of the elf.

                Setting the clothing aside, Biara picked up the stack of tied papers, intent on reaching the jewelry box at the bottom of the chest. As she did so, several letters fell free from the top of the pile, landing on the stone floor beside her and opening. Biara set the stack of papers she was holding down and glanced at those that had fallen, her eyes wide. Gently so as not to damage the old parchment, she reached down, picking up the first that had fallen and examining it.

                It was a beautifully made invitation, the words inked in gold and done in beautiful calligraphy, the corners of the invitation having a golden trim with an artistic design depicting entwined roses. Biara read the words aloud, the weight of passing time heavy in the room.

               
                You are cordially invited to attend a most blessed union bringing together two Houses in a time of love and peace. House Silverdawn extends its invitation to the Lord Tel’athar Dayfire and Lady Selun’athiel Dayfire on the third Sunday of the midsummer festival to witness the joining of the Lady Lirathel Dawnslight and Lord Lethas Silverdawn in the sacred bond of marriage.

                The festivities will begin at the second hour of noon on this day, with the ceremony occurring at the setting of the sun. Please join us in our celebration on the Isle of Quel’Danas, and let us share with you our love and joy.

               
                Biara finished reading the document and set it down, the names meaning little to her other than the fact that House Dawnslight was her mother’s original family before she wed. Clearly this was a wedding for some distant relative on her mother’s side that had happened many years before. Biara set the invitation down, seeing that it had directions to the party attached to it on a second, equally well made card.

There was a third piece of parchment sandwiched between them however that made one of Biara’s eyebrows shoot up. She reached down and gently picked it up, unfolding it with care and exposing what appeared to be a blank page. Biara smiled, her senses detecting an old and fading, latent spell hidden on the paper. It was one that she was familiar with, her mother having taught her about such things at a very young age. She breathed a word of magic, and the page lit up brightly as the spell was exposed, words flaring into existence in bright blue arcane letters before her. She began to read, her curiosity piqued.

Dear Aunt Seluna,

                I can’t believe it’s finally happening! He’s finally asked for my hand and we’re to be married! All of my hopes and dreams have come true, and it is in part because of all that you have done for me. I know that Father and some of the others think we are too young and should wait, but I know in my heart that this is right and I can’t thank you enough for speaking with him about the matter.

                Lethas and I have reserved a place of honor for you at the ceremony. You’re to be in the very front row, befitting your great role in my life and as a thank you for everything. I wanted to include this letter to say these things to you personally in the event that we’re too busy at the ceremony. As you can see, I’ve also been practicing the magic spells that you have taught me. Although I will likely never be as talented as you are or as we both hope your daughter will become, it means the world to me that you have taken the time to show me even this little bit of the art. Please let me know if you see anything that I can improve with my spells, as I am eager to learn more!

                We have begun our preparations for the ceremony already, and I think you will be impressed with our first dance and also with the gown that I have selected. I took your advice on the design and made use of the tailor that you had recommended and I am thrilled with the results. I can’t wait to see Lethas’s face when he sees me in it!

                Anyway, I do not wish to use up too much of your time as I know you are very busy with your own affairs, but I had to include this letter with the invitation. Again, thank you for everything you have done. You have helped my dreams to come true and my heart to soar. I will see you at our ceremony and, of course, continue to write. Be well, Aunt Seluna!

With love,

Lira

                
               Biara set the letter down gently, stunned by what she had read. Obviously Selun’athiel Dayfire had not always been the twisted, dark creature that she’d become after she was touched by Scourge magic, but to see this other side of her and to recall that she had once been a living, breathing person who had feelings and relationships was like being doused with cold water. Memories of her mother flowed through Biara’s mind, and she felt tears in her eyes as she recalled what had been and what had come later when her mother fell to darkness.

                Wiping at her eyes, Biara looked down at the letter again before turning to look through the piles of paper that had been in the chest. Try as she might, she could find no other correspondence from a Lirathel within the paperwork, and no further clues about this distant relative were provided when she re-read the letter. The thought that the girl had adored Selun’athiel and had even been grateful for things that she’d done gave Biara pause and made her wish to know more. Unfortunately, decades of time had passed between the joyous penning of this letter and the current day, and it was likely that the darkness that had befallen Quel’Thalas had washed all away with it.

                Biara shook her head, looking into the chest and finding the jewelry box that she’d originally been seeking. Gently she opened it, finding within it not jewelry as she’d expected, but an orb. Eyes wide, she held it up before her, breathing magic into it and watching as it began to glow. Within the murky depths images appeared, fuzzy at first as the latent spells re-ignited but growing clearer. They were images of a grand ceremony and of elves dancing and enjoying their time together as the sun sank over Quel’Danas. Biara saw within the images many glimpses of her mother and father together, some of them captured poses of groups of nobles long since dead smiling and looking up as if to peer out of the orb. But throughout it all, and featured amongst all of the many images were those of a red-haired beauty in a gleaming gold and white dress, a fine young noble at her side as she waved or smiled happily at the crowd. Image after image of her appeared, and Biara knew beyond a doubt that she stared at a ghost from the past, the young Quel’dorei having the same coloring and hair color as her mother’s own.

                She stared at one of the images, the elf’s young face burned into her mind, her smiled framed by flowing red locks and bright blue eyes shining with joy staring out of the orb from a time long since forgotten. Here was one of Biara’s blood. A cousin she’d never even really known, swept away in the events of the past.

                Biara sighed and set the orb down gently in its box. She closed the lid and gathered it and the invitation with its attached letter up, holding them close. Although she was likely to find nothing more than ruins or a lonely grave long since abandoned, Biara found herself filled with an insatiable curiosity to discover what had befallen the young noble and her new marriage. Had they survived the Scourge invasion? Did they live now with House Silverdawn, wherever that family resided, or perhaps with House Dawnslight? Did this elf still live, and could she speak more about the past that would uncover more of Selun’athiel’s life than perhaps Biara herself knew?

                Regardless of what had happened, there would be some clues available, and Biara decided she would follow up on it. Two Houses did not have young heirs marry without leaving some record behind in Silvermoon’s archives, and it was amongst the old legal documents that Biara would find clues as to where the couple went next, and whether or not they still lived perhaps. With a smile, she hurried from the storage room, quite literally carrying the past in a bundle in her arms.