A Last Stolen Moment

((This story was co-written between myself and the player of Prince Whitedawn. All conversation occurred within World of Warcraft and is being shared with the permission of both players.))

Walking down the golden streets of Silvermoon, Biara paused as she saw a familiar figure approaching atop his hawkstrider. She waves at the mounted elf, her voice carrying as she speaks, "Prince! I've been looking for you."

Prince offers a wave to the woman, "Oh hey, Lady Biara! You have? Can't imagine why." He smirks, dismounting and sending his hawkstrider off to the nearby patch of grass.

Biara nods, looking a little wane and not as graceful as she might normally, "I have. I need to speak with you urgently. I thought you'd be at the spire assisting Selenthiel, but when I looked you were not there and-.... it’s not important, I've found you."

Prince smiles profoundly, "Well, here I am. I've been busy between protecting sample-getters and House Myr'Draeval. I actually am late on my latest report to Lady Selenthiel. What did you need?" He asks, all attentive to her.

Biara steps closer, glancing around and lowering her voice, "I wasn't aware you were working for other Houses or of your other duties. I'm sorry, maybe I should have asked what else you've been doing besides working for Selenthiel."

Prince chuckles, "House Myr'Draeval belongs to Lady Meios Myr'Draeval. It's small, and that’s where I stay most nights. Freeloading, if you will. I suggested training some recruits to bolster its defenses should she become a political figure." He paused for a moment. "Much like you are, or rather.. used to be? I don't know. I have to become acquainted with the rest of your House to find out for myself if you're as prominent as you used to be. And if it's anything like that sparring match we had last time we met, then you're still as competent as ever. Maybe even more." He gave a sincere smile.

Biara shakes her head, her hand almost reaching out to touch Prince, "No, no you were right, Prince. My skills are honed from battle, but I can't do this anymore, not like this. When we spoke, did you mean the things you said? That you'd watch over me? Did they have feelings behind them, or were they just pleasantries you exchanged with me?"

Prince raises a brow at her words, "Of course I meant that I'd watch out for you. We may not be  'together' but that doesn't mean I can't try and protect you, I mean, it's not like I.." He cut off, thinking for a moment. "Oh. shit. I forgot to tell you..." He smacks his forehead, feeling like an idiot. "I have no idea how you're going to take this, so... can you try not to freak out? No magic spells, no violent outbursts?.."

Biara frowns, tilting her head, "I...wouldn't do that to you? I'm not the same person you knew from long ago. I've been through things that have changed my perspective. You can tell me anything you need to tell me."

Prince winces a bit at her words, "Are you sure?... My news may be potentially destructive." He puts his hands up slightly, in defense.

“Please, don't play games with me, not now. Just say what you need to say. I've much I have to tell you myself,” Biara responded.

Prince sighs heavily, "I'm engaged to be wed." He says to her, feeling the weight of his words as he speaks them to her. Knowing deep down, it would hurt if even a little. How was he to remember this stuff? He had been so busy lately, it's not like it just comes up in random conversation. "I didn't think to tell you, because I never thought I'd cross paths with you or your House again. But, I've changed in some ways too, and it's what has led me on the path I tread." He looks down, then back up. "But I did mean what I said. About protecting you. About aiding you in whatever needs to be aided in."

Biara looks startled for a moment, her eyes going wide. Her lip trembles and she shakes slightly. She takes a deep breath, quite obviously choking back some undefined emotion, "I-I...t-that is wonderful news. I'm s-so happy for you, Prince. I'm sure you will make a wonderful husband to whomever h-has been lucky enough to win your heart."

Prince aches at the sight of this.. strong woman. He knew well why she feels the way she does, and it just makes him feel guilty. It could've been her. It could've been her all this time. "Biara..." He says longingly, before shaking his head a bit, "..So.. uhm. What did you want to tell me?"

Biara manages to speak without her voice cracking, but only just barely so. She looks away from him, "I-I...I suppose it is not important now." She folds her arms across her chest, hugging herself and looking back at him, her eyes glistening, "It's nothing I can't take care of myself."

"I'm still here to help. You know the kind of man I am..” Prince said, trying to gain favor with Biara in the moment.

Biara nods, her tone somewhat sullen, "A good man. One who needed better than what he was dealt. I'm happy for you, truly." She turns away from him and shakes her head.

Prince reaches out and places his hand on her head, patting it softly. Something he dared never try, but, he didn't care if there were negative repercussions. "Biara, don't be like this. We can still have what we had. Just no kissing, cuddling, fucking or inviting me out to Gala's to show me off." He leans over to the side to glimpse her face, "Be the proud woman I know you to be, just don't bite my head off for not being yours. Because in a way..." He reaches down to gently move her face toward his. "..I'll be yours somehow, someway. Just not in the way you want one hundred percent."

A bystander nearby blinks and just stares at Prince like he is some type fool.

Biara does something completely out of character for her, she bursts into tears. A moment later she is pressed against Prince's chest, weeping quietly on his armor, "T-they tried to kill my daughter Prince. I-I'm so stupid. I was going to ask you...I wanted to run...to just finally be done with all of this. I thought you and I...but no, you deserved better than that. You left precisely b-because of all of this. You'll be safe now, and happy, and I'm glad for that. I-I just don't...I can't do this anymore."

Prince wraps his arms protectively around Biara, trying to calm and soothe her as he rocked her. "Shhh, shh.. It's okay. It's okay." He tried recalling everything she had said through sobs, stuttering and crying. Finally, he pulled his head away slightly, giving her the sincerest and calm look before responding. "You can't do what anymore? As far as I'm concerned, we haven't made a game plan to get back at your daughters' attackers."

Biara speaks through almost hyperventilating gasps, "I c-can't keep letting my life, my mistakes and connections a-and family bring harm to my loved ones. It's gone on too long. Astariel...she...did I ever tell you how I lost my father? When I was little? It w-was almost the same for her. She almost had to watch, as I did. It can never happen again. I-I was so stupid to think it would end, that I could step away and just do my work and study and raise her." She wipes at her eyes, "I shouldn't be burdening you with this. I-I’m sorry."

Prince wipes away her tears with his finger, "If you were such a burden, I wouldn't have come out of hiding. If you were such a burden, I wouldn't be staying in your life. Even now, if you were such a burden..I'd have walked away the moment you laid eyes on me."

Biara gives him a bittersweet smile, talking through her tears, "Now you tell me, make me feel that I'm important to you. But I can't do this to you. You have a new life ahead of you, and this...it's death. Death to those around me, to the things I treasure. I wanted you to make me run, to go against my instinct. You were smarter than me; you knew when to cut your losses, but I can't take you from her, whoever she is now. She deserves your protection now."

Prince places both his hands gently upon her shoulders, "Don't you worry about what's going on in my personal life, just tell me who I have to track down and put arrows into, 'kay?" He smiled at her, "And what do you mean 'make you feel that you're important.' You've always been important. Just because we’re not betrothed, doesn't change that." He winks at her playfully. "Dummy."

Biara wipes at her eyes, calming herself, she glances around and realizes she's been carrying on in public. She shakes her head, "You walked away, all those years ago. And I fully understand why now. Even I can't take it. You were not the last to do so either."

Prince shrugs, "I was weak. Sue me."

Biara shakes her head, "Being smart isn't weakness. It doesn't matter now. This has to end." She appears to be a little angrier now, "I see now the way it has to be. As others have mentioned, the only way to fight fire is with fire."

"Politically, of course?" Prince asks.

Biara stares at Prince, something dead deep within her eyes, "They tried to murder me in front of my nine-year-old daughter, just as my father was murdered before my own eyes. The person who did this will learn what it means to face a Magistrix in battle. I would have run across Azeroth with you, if you'd convinced me, but there is only one solution now. It can never happen again. Ever."

Prince smiles, "I knew you'd run away with me. But the life I had wasn't the life you needed. I made a decision purely out of love and protection." He centers himself, and puts a small amount of distance between them. "What would you have -me- do?" He asks.

“If I'm to do this, then I need you to promise me something. If anything happens to me, I want you to make sure Astariel is looked after. My sister...has her own priorities. I want her to have a protector. I am naming you that person. If I fall, you take her and run with her, and never let them find her,” Biara replied, her voice pleading.

Prince gives her a very stern, serious expression. "You have my word, Lady Biara." He smirks ever so slightly, "However, I have a condition."

Biara pauses, studying him, "What condition is that?"

Prince looks deep into her eyes, "Whatever happens, no matter what, you have to come back to her. Live." He looks around the area, thinking about something else before snapping back to look at her, "And.. I would miss you too much.." He glances away slightly.

Biara gives him a half smile and sighs, "You could always say the right thing at the wrong time, Prince. I wish...I knew then what I know now, I would have cherished you more. You know me though, and I think you understand that if I do not survive this, a great number of other people will also not survive it. I cannot do any less than fight as my father would have. This is a family matter that has gone on for too many decades." She pauses and stares into his eyes, "Your betrothed is lucky. I hope she is everything you need."

"She is, but friendships are irreplaceable, and I have very few of those,” Prince replied.

Biara smiles, looking sad but at least calm now, "And soon you will have children to bounce on your knee and train to use a bow. Your life will be rich and full, as it should be. I...I really am happy for you, even if I'm jealous a little. Fear of what I'm facing does not cloud that fact."

Prince smiles, "And here I am, having all that you say... and still offering to help you face said fear. In any way I can. An Azeroth without Biara Dayfire... well, that's not a world at all.” He chuckles.

Biara sighs, smiling more despite herself, "Why can't there be two of you anyway? The world is very unfair sometimes. You've bolstered me though and I think I know what I will do now. When a dragon strikes at you removing its head is the most effective way to ensure it does not bother you any further, and that is precisely what I will do."

Prince folds his arms, bringing a hand up to rub his chin, "Perhaps there is a law stating that a man can have more than a single wife?.." He chuckles.

A bystander nearby blinks and facepalms

Biara rolls her eyes, "I'll let you explain that to my sister. After your swollen face heals enough you can tell me what she thought of it." 

A nearby Sin’dorei woman turns to her companion and says, “You ever try to get more than one wife I will set you afire have you healed so I can set you afire again.”

Biara grins, clearly having heard the other woman's remark, "It seems your suggestion is not acceptable to most people, shocking, Prince. Really though, you made that choice long ago and it was a fair one and better one for you."

"But not for you. I'm a pleaser, Biara. I'm sorry I want to spread the love among two people," Prince replied, offering the Magistrix a shrug. "I mean, one is enough. But two would be divine. Say it with me Biara: Two. Wives."

Biara leans forward suddenly and kisses Prince, on the lips even! "You are sweet, and I know you speak from your heart and with a desire to help, but your life will be sweeter without your betrothed murdering you. Or my family. Or my enemies. Or me by accident. I think we both know damn well that I'm going to die alone, and not of old age but in battle. So be it; those who struck my father down will finally get what they deserve."

Prince is stuck with puckered lips. He really wasn't expecting a kiss. on the lips! "Uh huh." His lips quiver a bit before he regains his composure... somewhat. "So. Not. Letting. You. Die. Alone."

Biara pats the side of Prince's face gently, "Then go and find me a long lost brother or something, and do it fast. Because the minute I leave here I'm going back to my spire, and I'm digging through my mother's old things until I find her old ward-ring. And then I'm going to finish this once and for all, and those bastards are going to wish they had never heard of House Dayfire."

Prince shakes his head smirking at her attempt at humor, "I don't think I have a brother... or a half-brother. One of a kind, Biara. If you're going, I'm going with you to help you end this. Besides.." he mulls over the details of the past couple of days. "...I don't have a report due until tomorrow... and I don't need to be back at my Sisters' Spire until the day after tomorrow to continue training the recruits. Sooooooo, looks like you're stuck with me." He shrugs, matter-of-factly.

Biara shakes her head, smiling sadly at him, "No. As much as I'd like to have you by my side, I owe you a debt for what I've put you through over the years. I'll not snatch your happiness from you at the last moment. You and your betrothed deserve better than that." She pauses and smiles, "Besides, you've promised to guard Astariel should I fail. I hold you to your word on that. This is...something I must do alone. Facing my father's murderer has been something I've thought of for many years."

Prince crosses his arms like a child that couldn't get his way, "Fine. You're lucky I keep my promises; else this conversation would've went in a completely different direction." He sulks playfully.

“It is because you keep your promises that I made you give your word. There are so few I can trust, and no one knows of you within my family. They wouldn't look for her there, not with you. I hope not to put you to this test though; I will not fail,” Biara replied solemnly.

“And if you do... I won't,” Prince replied with a grim smile.

Biara smiles at this, and nods, "It is House Dawnslight. I know it is. My mother's House. They hounded her when she was alive, tried to sway my father's will. For years they tried to contact and influence me. Only they would try to murder me in the same manner as my father before me. Only they can be responsible. If I fall, mark that name well, for it is they who will come for the remnants of my family."

Prince thinks for a moment. "Your magical wards... I wonder if...Can you place a magical rune on my body, linked to your life-force?

Biara pauses, "That...would be extremely dangerous. You might...it's complicated, but you might get dragged somewhere unpleasant if I were to pass."

Prince shakes his head, "No, no.. all it needs to do is disappear if you... die. I can't have misinformation find its way to me. I have to instantly know. Then, I will barge into House Sunfire, and carefully try and take Astariel somewhere safe."

Biara nods. She holds out her wrist and removes a bracelet from it, pressing it into Prince's hands, "I use this to speak with my sister. I will craft a third and link it. Should the gem fade, then I have passed." She pauses for a moment, looking at him with a critical eye, "It is a communication device. Please do not use it to hit on my sister..."

Prince winks with his only, critical eye, "I can't promise I won't use it, but hitting on Kyli is like asking to be killed."

Biara grins, "It is, especially since she's entangled with our Master at Arms who also happens to be our spymaster. That gentleman is quite dangerous indeed. But keep this, it will let you know if I fail."

            Prince accepts the bracelet, putting it on as he replied, “Thanks. For what it’s worth, don’t die. Use all of your destructive power. Don’t forget to flush if you have to use the bathroom along the way..um..don’t forget to eat lots of green veggies if...Well, if you plan on eating meat. Lots of it. The veggies allow your body to utilize the nutrients and it seems like you could use some…and…” Prince continues to ramble on about things incoherently until he is interrupted.

            Biara sighs and smiles. She leans forward and hugs Prince tightly. Her voice is full of emotion when she replies, “Thank you. For not forgetting me. For giving me the strength I need. For everything.”

            Prince hugs her back, “Thank you for not letting me forget about you. Is this…goodbye?” He nuzzles her neck, but not in a way that makes any implications.

            Biara holds him for a moment, shaking her head, “Never. It will never be goodbye. I’ll walk through fire to return to my daughter and those I care about. I promise you that.”

Biara gently pushes away from Prince, smiling at him, "I have to go prepare now. I will hold you to your promises my dear friend. Until we meet again, take care of yourself and live well."

Prince smiles, "I guess.. 'You too..' would be entirely inappropriate as a response right now?" He chuckled, half-heartedly.

Biara smiles and nods, "I will. And for what it's worth, a part of me will always love you. Farewell Prince."

"Tsk tsk, stealin' my lines. Who are you? A part of me will always love you too. Farewell... Biara'thiel,” he said softly.

With one final smile and glance, Biara turns away, her magic flaring around her, carrying her back to her spire and the looming battle ahead, leaving one of her dearest friends behind to live the life his faithful loyalty had earned him in the end.

Bloodlines: Part 2- Not my Mother, Not my Father

*Falconwing Square, at a ceremony to dedicate a new initiative for magical research funded through the Reliquary*

"...and so it is with great honor that I offer my contributions to this project with the presentation of this statue to represent our continued drive to improve the lives of all Sin'dorei through magical power," Biara Dayfire said proudly, her arms spread wide to the crowd before her. Falconwing Square echoed with the applause of hundreds in the audience who had come to attend the ceremony and hear the pledges and contributions of the nobles that Biara had aligned herself with.

The group had agreed to let Biara give the speech commemorating the donation of the marble statue behind the Magistrix, the work commissioned by artists hand picked through House Sunfire and paid for with a stipend from Biara's personal treasury. It was to be followed by additional gifts of funds to help combat the lingering remnants of the Wretched within the district and to aid those families who were so poor that access to magic beyond the Sunwell or to magical care was limited.

Behind Biara a small group of attendees clapped politely, smiling at the Magistrix as she turned towards them. Amongst the group was the smiling face of Astariel, Biara's daughter having been given permission to attend the ceremony. Her delighted clapping was easy to pick out from the others and Biara shot her daughter a wink as she accepted a pair of golden scissors that would be used to cut a red ribbon draped across the statue, which depicted a cowled Magister seemingly offering an open book to those standing before it. Further back from the dais where Biara was giving her speech were a number of House Sunfire guards, with Braeth'el in attendance and watching over her as she gave her presentation.

Biara took the golden scissors in one hand, smiling and waving at the crowd again as she moved towards the statue. She turned away from those watching, reaching out towards the ribbon that she was to cut. It was in this moment of vulnerability that her enemies struck, the assassins hired by the Lord Orthan Dawnslight taking the opportunity presented when Biara's back was turned.

Even as she reached towards the ribbon, Biara heard a shrill scream echo over the sound of the applause, time seeming to slow down as Astariel darted in between the attendees and lurched towards her at full speed, her little voice piercing and instantly alarming, "Mommy! Watch out!"

The golden scissors began a seemingly endless tumble towards the platform upon which Biara stood as her daughter's urgency and panic washed over the Magistrix. Temporal magics rippled through her body, Astariel's unrefined and uncontrolled powers clashing with Biara's wards as the nine year old's hand touched Biara's side. Biara's eyes dilated and for a brief millisecond of time she was somewhere else, in another time.

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

Tel'athar Dayfire had just finished his speech, his arms outstretched to the crowd of workers before him, their applause echoing through the open plaza. His impassioned tones had won over the workers, and his promises of better wages and working conditions had convinced them that the Lord Dayfire was indeed a man of honor as they had been told. 

An adolescent Biara watched proudly from the side of the dais where her father was giving his speech, her mother standing rigidly beside her and presenting the very best public image she could to support Tel'athar's words. Biara clapped happily, enjoying the way her father had won over the people and knowing that he would make good on his word.

Her happiness was shattered a moment later as arrows flashed from the crowd, piercing her father's chest in several places. She screamed, her voice drowned by the shouting and yelling that had suddenly risen from the crowd as the hidden assassins struck.

Selun'athiel Dayfire screamed even louder, the sound a heartbreaking dirge that Biara would never forget for as long as she lived. Even as Tel'athar fell mortally wounded, Biara reached out for her mother's hand, her fear washing away her courage. She found herself rebuffed by her mother, shoved backwards towards the guards, her mother's voice shouting incoherently as magic began to build in the air around her, endless power that Biara was not yet old enough to fully understand.

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

Time lurched back to normal, and the weight of Astariel's young body slamming into Biara's hip jolted the Magistrix back into reality. Heartache raged through her as she fought off the emotions of the memory, trying to keep herself focused and knowing that something bad was coming that had so startled her daughter.

But Biara was not Tel'athar Dayfire. While she shared his passion for Quel'Thalas and his vision for a future where all elves within it could live in comfort and with their honor, she had lived through far too much, survived far too many battles. Where she fought with her father's honor, she had a cunning, an almost doomsday-like approach to every situation. There was no safety, not even in Silvermoon. There was never a time when one should not be prepared for war, when one should not prepare the members of one's House for war. And so it was that Astariel's hand came up and slapped against the wards glowing through Biara's dress, her tiny voice shouting the words that her mother had taught her to use in the most dire of emergencies.

"Belore!"

Magical wards crackled to life as Biara's arms came around her daughter, embracing her child in a cocoon of safety. Ice crackled through the air, slamming down around them in a barrier that was impenetrable. Even as it settled into place, Biara felt a shudder run through it as the arrows that had been aimed at her back missed their mark, the magic protecting her and her child from harm. Magic that her father had not thought he'd need amongst his own people.

Ice shattered around them, chips of it whirling through the air as the barrier finally shattered. Broken arrowshafts clattered onto the dais along with the frozen slush, and Biara whirled around, keeping her daughter behind her and her body between Astariel and their would-be assassins. It took Biara's combat instincts only a moment to recognize that there were five figures who were standing amongst the now panicking crowd that were not running away. Five assassins hidden within the group, intent on taking her life or possibly the life of her daughter.

Fury raged through Biara, and she felt Astariel's hand wrap around her own for a moment. Temporal magics battered at reality, and for a brief second Biara found herself again in that moment in the past.

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

The guards had clamped their hands on Biara's shoulders, dragging her backwards and away from Selun'athiel. She screamed wordlessly as her mother walked away from her, the magic in the air around the powerful sorceress almost too bright to look at. She struggled to break free, struggled to run to her mother's side even as House Dayfire guards dragged her away. It would be a regret she would carry for years that she couldn't stop Selun'athiel from what she did next, that she couldn't be there to support her mother, even if there had been little a child could do.

And Selun'athiel continued to walk away, her pace steady and determined. Never once did she look back at her daughter whom she was abandoning. Not one time did she consider those around her, the innocent workers who had not known that deadly assassins lurked within their midst. As her magic grew brighter, Biara was forced to shield her eyes, her despair causing her to crumple and allowing the guards to bustle her away, always away and towards safety.

Even as she was forced into a carriage by Dayfire guards, she would never forget the sound of the explosion that rocked the city behind her, or the sudden and utter silence that descended as hundreds of people passed from life in an instant. 

 ************************************

Biara blinked as reality slammed back into place, rage and emotional pain mixing through her. For a moment nothing but a wordless cry escaped as the memories of her childhood's end tore through her mind. She shook her head, clearing her thoughts and looking down at her daughter.

Biara was not Selun'athiel Dayfire. Though rage filled her, she had learned through much hardship that control of her power was mandatory for her to survive in combat and in life. Her body bore the scars of her missteps, of her tendencies that made her sometimes lash out as Selun'athiel once had. But more than that, Biara loved her daughter with all her heart. She would never in a million years send the girl away to live with the agony of not knowing what had happened. She would never even conceive of leaving the little girl defenseless in a world that could take everything from her in a heartbeat.

"Astariel, Long Watch, by the statue!" Biara shouted, the code phrase one of many that she had developed with her daughter. It was time to fight, but Astariel would neither be dragged away screaming nor be left to the inadequate defenses of her guards who had clearly already failed.

The little Sin'dorei girl released her mother's hand, nodding once and drawing in a breath to keep her courage up. She touched a bracelet on her wrist and backed up until she was touching the statue, the artifact creating a curtain of blistering defensive wards around her. The little girl drew two very real, very deadly combat wands from a pouch and held one in each hand, facing away from the statue and prepared to defend herself or her mother as needed.

It had taken only seconds to prepare, and in that time much of the crowd had begun to flee in fear. Biara's hands came up, flames flickering at her fingertips as she snapped her fingers. Amongst the crowd the bowman that had fired the arrows meant to take her life suddenly burst into flames, his agonized screams echoing through the mayhem that the failed attempt had caused.

A second assassin hurled a ball of arcane magic in Biara's direction, the spell flickering as it slammed into defensive wards and was grounded. Biara's attention snapped towards this new attacker, words of power shouted into the wind ripping apart the Sin'dorei's next spell. Biara's hand lashed forward and the elf was whipped with flames, the attack designed to carefully pick him out amongst the innocents that still ran to and fro in between.

The other three attackers had drawn blades and were advancing through the crowd. Two of them had grouped together, and Biara watched in horror as one of them brought his weapon up as if to batter aside the fleeing civilians that had been watching the presentation. In a panic she drew a spellblade from her belt, the weapon flaring to life and fire dancing across the blade. With a shouted word Biara had relocated herself with a blink spell from the dais to a spot just before the Sin'dorei, her spellblade coming up and meeting the downward slash with a ring of metal and the roar of flame as magic weapon met cold hard steel.

Biara's arm was numbed from the impact but she nimbly tumbled aside as the attacker attempted to slash her again. The crowd around them ran in all directions, clearing out a space where the combatants could do battle. The second elf had dropped his sword in favor of drawing a bow with the hopes of shooting Biara while she was distracted. She shouted a word of power, blinking forward a second time and reappearing behind him. She stabbed her spellblade backwards under her own armpit, feeling it slam into the elf's back with a rigid thud and the hiss of flames meeting flesh.

The elf screamed and Biara whirled, losing her grip on her weapon as the mortally wounded and now immolated elf cartwheeled away. The second swordsman lunged towards her and she brought her hand up, her palm upright and level with her lips. She blew a breath across her palm, magic turning it into the raging fire of a dragon's attack. The elf was struck full on, his screams fading as he breathed in flames instead of air, his cooked form crumpling before her.

Biara casually stepped over her enemy, cold rage flowing through her as she yanked her spellblade free of one of the fallen corpses. The last attacker had pushed through the crowd and was attempting to climb the dais to reach Astariel. Small flickers of arcane magics from the girl's wands had burned parts of the steps leading up, and House Dayfire guards had reached her and were now surrounding her, but the thought that someone should try to harm her daughter sent Biara into blistering fury. Magic built in her hand and a fireball hurtled through the air over the heads of the remaining innocents that had not yet fled the scene, striking the last attacker in the back with an explosion of fire that made a deep boom echo through the square.

And then it was over, and Biara found herself stalking briskly through the thinning crowds, those around her who had come to their senses actually applauding her as she passed. Unlike her father, she had slain the assassins lying in wait for her. Unlike her mother, not a single innocent person was touched by her magic during the battle. The stress of the carefully controlled conflict left her shaking, but the rage she felt inside continued to fuel her steps as she neared the dais.

As she mounted the steps and moved past the smoking corpse of her enemy, she approached an armored line of House Dayfire guards who had weapons leveled in all directions. She brought her flaming spellblade up, pointing it at them, her tone imperious, "Step aside and move away from my daughter or die where you stand."

Guards blanched, several quickly hurrying out of her way and slamming into others. As they cleared a path Biara saw an inner circle of guards all around Astariel, but none closer than five feet from the girl. Kneeling that same distance away, she saw Braeth'el speaking softly with Astariel, pleading with the girl. Astariel's voice echoed from the group, "I'm sorry, Uncle Braeth'el, but you can't come any closer without saying the passphrase. Mother said so! I don't want to have to blast you so please don't okay?"

Biara physically shoved one of her guards out of the way, stepping into that five feet of cleared space and noting with pride that the dais was scorched in several places where her daughter had used her wands to shoot warning shots to keep everyone clear of her. None would lay a hand on Biara's daughter while the girl drew breath and while her mother was there watching over her. Biara's voice barked out over the silent guards, her tone scathing, "Step away from my daughter now. You have failed to protect her and she has done what I have asked her to do. Be thankful that I didn't tell her to slay everyone in sight."

Braeth'el rose, his hands outstretched, "Biara, take it easy. I know you're upset but-"

Biara brought her flaming spellblade up, the crackling tip almost touching Braeth'el's chin, "Upset? You think I'm merely 'upset'? Astariel could have been killed! How does the entirety of House Sunfire miss an assault on one of its heirs and her daughter in public?"

"Listen, I know it's bad. We will find out who did it and we'll take steps to-" Braeth'el began.

Biara cut him off instantly, her rage still evident, "I already know who did it. There is only one source for such an attack. As for you, maybe if you spent less time looking for threats in my sister's pants and more time doing your damn job my daughter would be safe. I will see to this matter, and to her security, myself. You have all failed me. Be glad that you are in Kyliska's good graces, because you are certainly not in mine! Astariel, reverie."

Astariel nodded once at the passphrase, slipping her wands away and speaking a word that caused the crackling wards around her to fade. She ran to her mother's side, wrapping her arms around Biara's hips as Biara hugged her tightly with one arm. The Magistrix brought her other arm up and spoke several words, tearing a portal open beside the two. With one last lingering glare that had endless malice in it, she and her daughter stepped through the portal and it vanished behind them, leaving the Dayfire guards to clean up the mess that had been made.

Braeth'el shuddered and shook his head. Biara was not someone to speak to when she was mad, and while it was not entirely fair to call everyone present a failure, her words had a stinging ring of truth in them given that they'd been unable to detect any hint of the threat outside the house. With a resigned sigh of someone who had a long day ahead of them, he began issuing orders to the guards in an effort to get the scene under control once more.

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


Standing amongst the civilians who still remained at the scene of the attack, Lord Orthan Dawnslight shuddered. He'd watched his assassination attempt unfold and been horrified to see what he assumed would have been an easy task degrade into a complete disaster. Worse, he'd seen the burning hatred on the ward-scarred face of the Magistrix that he'd just failed to kill. It was very possible that he'd miscalculated a tad bit. One could only hope that she had no way of finding out who launched the assault.

He turned away in disgust, heading back towards a gilded carriage that awaited him nearby. There was no way she would be able to trace it back to House Dawnslight. Even if the attack had been similar to the one his father had successfully launched against Tel'athar Dayfire all those years before, he was sure she'd never figure it out.

He hoped.

Bloodlines: Part 1- An Old Dream

Double doors opened at the distant end of the audience chamber, the sounds of the heavy barriers echoing as they creaked on ancient hinges and then were slammed closed again with a final sounding boom. The chamber itself was cavernous, yet the full scale and size of it was difficult to determine given the fact that most of the chandeliers and magical lights were either extinguished or dimmed so as only to provide meager light.

A distant figure approached the throne at the far end of the audience chamber, the Sin'dorei's boots making an echoing thud as he walked across the marble floor and past the many marble columns that supported a ceiling lost to the blackness beyond the light's reach. As he approached the throne, he slowed his pace, finally falling to one knee a few feet from the first of the marble steps that lead up to the throne itself.

"My Lord, I have news to report," the Sin'dorei seneschal said in an even tone, his eyes locked on the marble floor before him in deference.

The figure to whom he spoke slowly stirred in the throne above, the ancient Sin'dorei a thing of someone's nightmares. Although he was dressed in the finest embroidered silken robes, he looked something like a living cadaver. Long grey hair hung limply from a scalp that was clearly visible through the frayed strands. Paper-thin skin clung to skeletal limbs that had seen centuries pass. One eye stared sightlessly, the milky white only tinged a faint hint of fel green whereas the second eye burned with a fierce fel light as he looked down upon the kneeling servant before him.

It was not the old Sin'dorei's age that made him so grotesque however, instead it was the many wounds his body sported. Here the flesh of his shoulder was thinner on his right side from an axe blow suffered during the troll wars. There his leg was missing much of the mass in his right calf where troll captors had literally begun to eat him alive. The flesh of his right hand crawled with blackened looking veins, the plagues that ran through his still-living form the result of a ghoul bite during the Scourge invasion and kept at bay only by the healing prayers of priests cast at least once per day. His breath came out in ragged, wheezing gasps that made it clear he had little time left in this world.

After a moment, the old Sin'dorei sighed, waving a withered hand at the elf before him, "Rise and speak. What tidings do you bring?"

The seneschal rose slowly, not daring to look directly at the ancient lord seated before him. A quick glance over the throne showed that his Lord was flanked, as always, by two scantily clad Sin'dorei women who attended to his every need. A quick glance and nod from one of the courtesans told the seneschal that the Lord of the House was not in one of his infamous foul tempers on this day; that was good at least for the tidings were ill indeed.

"My Lord, it is as you suspected," the seneschal began in a low tone, "The prisoner that escaped has indeed taken refuge in another House. It is difficult to pinpoint her exact location for our adversaries have a Master at Arms who is particularly skilled in espionage and I dare not risk exposing your hand by alerting him to our probing."

The old lord nodded, his gaze distant for a moment, "And which House has dared to lay claim to that which is mine?"

"House Sunfire, my Lord," the seneschal replied.

Silence reigned for many long minutes, the seneschal not daring to speak as his Lord pondered the report. Finally, the old Sin'dorei replied, his voice thick with memories of bygone times, "A lost opportunity there, with many mistakes uncorrected. You checked the original properties from whence the prisoner came? What of those?"

"Claimed, my Lord. By a noble with legal title," the seneschal replied. "I do not believe our quary is currently located there. It would be too obvious and she would know we would check there."

The old lord pondered a bit more before nodding, "Agreed. The matter is not as important as it once was, given where she's fled. We will not be granted any courtesies by those who harbor her. At best we could offer only punishment or retribution for defiance that has lasted centuries, but I find myself weary of this. It will accomplish nothing."

He paused for a moment before looking directly at the seneschal, "Tell me, has my worthless son learned of this news yet?"

"No, my Lord. I've kept the information secret as you ordered," the seneschal replied.

A smile passed across the old Lord's face as he stared off into the distant gloom of his audience chamber. The House had many branches, many leaves that had sprouted down the winding paths of time. Once, long ago, it had been so powerful that he had sought a place in the hierarchy for inheritance to the throne itself. Once he had walked with Kings and Princes, spoken sweet words to Queens and ladies of a court so powerful it rivaled those of any other race. But those times were long gone now, a faded majesty that would not soon return. Instead he was left with the weeds that time had allowed to grow along the foundation of all he'd built.

Heirs existed throughout the House. Useless, decadent heirs that were good for little more than throwing galas or commissioning art. The times of heroic elves of Quel'Thalas riding forth to do battle with the trolls or tending to their perfect lands were long gone. Children, grandchildren, cousins and second cousins all clamored for their privilege, their pampered existence amongst the spires of Silvermoon. They demanded, cursed his name, and plotted. Many had been culled, the weeds growing too tall and drawing his notice. Others had given up, drowning themselves in drink, bloodthistle, and the endless decadent gatherings of the top of the top nobility within the fading realm.

All disappointed him. All wished for him to finally take his rest that they might wrest what he'd spent centuries building, forgetting that he'd sacrificed the lives of more elves than they could ever imagine to create it. And none of them would have any of it for as long as he had the power to ensure that they would suffer, suffer an eternity of waiting for him to die.

A smile crept across his decrepit lips as a final plot dawned on him. A delicious, sweet test of those who would have his throne, his wealth and his power. When it was all over, he would either be rid of one of the many nuisances that buzzed around him like flies, or even better, he might finally find someone of his blood worthy enough to continue on once he'd passed. In a low tone heard only barely by his servant girls and the seneschal before him, he whispered his plan, "Allow my son to discover this information. Let us see what he believes he can do with it. Do not let him know that I am aware of any of this. Let him believe that he might have discovered an opportunity to please me. My time grows short now, and I wish to see who is truly worthy of doing what must be done in the end."

The seneschal bowed once, his tone neutral, "It shall be as you say, my Lord. I have kept this information from Lord Orthan's spies, but I shall allow one of them to accidentally 'discover' it and will report back to you on their movements."

The old lord on the throne nodded, his grin fading as he waved one of his shaking hands, dismissing the seneschal to do his duty. As he leaned back against the plush cushions of his throne, the grin returned to his face. Soon his wayward son would see an opportunity to act, and would make decisions that would test his mettle. Better yet however, it might just test an heir he had, until this moment, never considered as worthy of his attention.

In the darkness of his throne room, he sat and waited for his plots to advance. 

Not Politically Correct

"Lady Dayfire, I'm sure you understand how difficult it would be to part with one of my sons," Lord Felair Fireward said with a smile. The pudgy, aging elf grinned at Biara from across the small coffee table that separated them, his fat, bejeweled fingers wrapped around the stem of a wine glass that was already half empty. He brought the drink to his lips, taking what was far more than a polite sip and actually burping before he set the glass down.

Biara Dayfire winced internally, taking a moment to compose herself before responding. Her manicured fingers picked absently at a non-existent thread on her red and gold silken dress as she considered the old lord and his three stooge-like sons that were thankfully separated from her by the conveniently placed furniture in Lord Fireward's parlor.

The one on the right, a skinny lad with fire red hair that was similar to her own, she had mentally nick-named 'Quiet One' as he had spoken not at all during the meeting and rarely made eye contact with her as if afraid to draw her notice. On the other side of the fat old leering Lord sat the two she had nicknamed 'Messy' and 'Spoiled', the two young Sin'dorei sporting matching red and gold coats with the difference being that Messy hadn't even bothered to tuck his shirt in while Spoiled had been making half-demands of her since the moment she had arrived as a guest to the Fireward Estate.

"I understand, Lord Fireward," Biara finally replied in a calm tone. "That is why I sought this audience; both to see your potential candidates as well as discuss the specifics of any deal we may strike up here."

Lord Fireward grinned, taking another sip of his wine while rather obviously running his eyes up and down her body. It was enough to make Biara shiver in revulsion, and he was not the only one doing it. Messy and Spoiled also were  having a hard time keeping their attention on matters at hand, while Quiet One likely was unaware that she was a girl or even in the room at this point. Biara let her thoughts return to the moment as Lord Fireward finally responded, "Your reputation is, unfortunately, not in the best standing with the Magistrate, Lady Dayfire. You must understand that the mortality rate of your apprentices is somewhat less than typical and rather undesirable, no?"

Biara grit her teeth, her irritation rising. Lord Fireward knew very well that she'd had her applications for new apprentices denied repeatedly due to the number she'd lost over the years. Her reputation was indeed 'undesirable' as an instructor and bringing it up was one of his negotiating tactics. She managed to keep her voice calm, her hands brushing an errant fire-red lock of hair from her face, "Yes, Lord Fireward, it is unfortunate that such a situation exists but my current research projects are far less dangerous. In addition, House Sunfire makes few forays into enemy territory these days as both my sister and I are rarely leading our troops into battle. I assure you that any worthwhile candidate would be ensured safety and security."

Lord Fireward nodded, his tone probably something he considered honey-smooth but one that Biara found grating, "That is excellent. All three of my sons have gifts with the arts, and I'm sure any of them would make a...worthwhile pairing with you." He smirked as he said this, his eyes again running over her form.

Biara suppressed another shudder and leaned forward, examining the three candidates in earnest now, "I presume you've tested all three using the standard methods, yes? All can handle the basic third-year spells that would be required to work in one of my laboratories?"

"Lady Dayfire, Biara if I may. Let me assure you that any one of my boys would do quite well under you," Lord Fireward responded in the same tone.

To Biara's utter disgust, Messy and Spoiled glanced at each other and nearly snickered at the term 'under you', as if it had some implication. Given the way the Lord of the house was eyeing her, maybe it did at that.

As if any of them could handle that anyway.

Biara refrained from commenting directly, instead looking at Quiet One...Faralen was his name, "And why do you wish to be an apprentice, young Faralen? What drives you to walk the paths of power?"

Quiet One nearly jumped off of the divan upon which he was resting upon being addressed directly. He looked at Biara in a panic, his tone stuttering, "I-I um...I want to um, learn and stuff...."

Biara sighed, immediately understanding that the young Sin'dorei was not yet ready for such a dangerous mental journey. She turned, looking to the other two. Before she could even open her mouth to speak, Spoiled spoke up, his tone demanding, "Is this really necessary? We've passed all the testing our father has required of us. I don't really see the need to further question our obvious capabilities."

Biara scowled, her tone firm, "It is indeed. Magic is extremely dangerous and I would not want to work with someone who didn't treat it with the respect it demands." She turned, looking towards Messy to see what he would say. She was immediately annoyed to note that he was staring at her bare legs where they were visible through the slit in her dress. She cleared her throat and finally managed to get his attention.

"And what of you? What leads you towards the path to becoming a Magister?" Biara said.

Messy's eyes remained locked on Biara's for all of two seconds before his gaze traveled back down to her legs. He murmured a response that set her irritation levels through the roof, "Oh, I think there are a lot of perks to it if you know what I mean."

Although she knew what the likely result would be, Biara tested those present by slowly sliding her crossed leg down and recrossing her legs in the opposite direction. Instantly all eyes except Quiet One's were no longer focused on her face at all. Given her already low impression of the potential candidates, she felt something inside her snap. Magic crackled on her right cheek as the defensive wards placed there activated in response to her mood.

In a huff she rose, startling those across the table. Lord Fireward rose as well, nearly spilling his drink in his haste, "Biara! Is something amiss?"

Biara glared at him, her tone scathing now, "I am the Magistrix Biara Dayfire, blood heir of House Sunfire. You will address me as such henceforth. I am concluding this interview as I find your candidates to be unacceptable."

Lord Fireward began to sputter some response as Biara whirled and began to walk away, the protests echoing behind her coming from all but Quiet One who had managed to slink away in the sudden uproar, unnoticed by his father. Biara made it exactly two steps before a hand grabbed her arm and spun her around. She found herself face to face with Spoiled, his mouth curved into a sneer, "How dare you imply I am not good enough! Do you know who I am? You should consider yourself lucky that we allowed you into our estate to interview us in the first place! With your reputation for killing your apprentices....why, you're lucky you don't have to offer favors to get anyone to even speak with you."

It was the last straw. Deep inside, Biara heard her sister Kyliska's voice calmly and coolly instructing her on how to dismantle an opponent in hand to hand combat somewhere on a training field from years ago. Without even really thinking her hand came up, her delicate fingers curled into a fist that struck Spoiled so hard in the eye he tumbled backwards, the pathetic squeak that he uttered comical as he tripped over the coffee table behind him and fell on his rear.

For a moment, no one spoke a word, and Lord Fireward simply stared in disbelief. He growled at Biara finally, magic curling around his fat fingers as he chanted a few words, "You will pay for that, Magistrix. To think I was considering marrying one of them off as a favor to you. You'll go nowhere until the Blood Knights have had a word with you..."

Raging magic met his words, Biara's fury unleashed finally. Flames danced in the air around her and her eyes flared brightly. The blue wards on her face glowed, and the matching ones on her body were so bright they could be seen through the fabric of her dress. She reached out a hand and the magic in Lord Fireward's fist was snuffed out as if it had never been.

In a venomous tone that silenced everyone, Biara nearly hissed, "You should consider carefully why all of those apprentices died, Lord Fireward. You should consider this very carefully before you dare to use magic in my presence again. As for your Blood Knights, I will be more than happy to send my sister to your residence with her own Blood Knights to 'speak' with you if you'd like. I somehow doubt you would enjoy the encounter however. Our business is concluded."

With that she turned and stormed away, her power still a physically felt thing. Behind her Lord Fireward's voice chased her, his yelling sounding more like pathetic mewling, "I will complain about this to the Magistrate! You....you'll see! This is totally intolerable-"

His voice was silenced as she slammed the front door of his estate behind her, his servants scattering from the path of her fury. She had finally had enough politics, enough negotiations for once. For one time in her life, Biara simply wanted something to be easy, to go smoothly, to allow her work to progress and her life to have interesting, meaningful objectives. But no, it was always politics, always Lords and Ladies and titles and committees getting in her way.

"To hell with it all," Biara murmured. She barked out a word of magic, tearing a portal open before her. "I'll find my own damn apprentices."

And then she was gone, her fury and magic gone with her.