World of Warcraft®

Several years before Theramore's Fall...

“No, Azheira. You are trying too hard. You already have the Light within you. You do not need to grasp for it.”

In frustration, the young paladin stuck her tongue out at Brother Karman, but he only laughed as he waved a hand, indicating she should try again.

“Sometimes, I suspect you think you hold the Light in that tongue of yours. Not only do you stick it out often enough, you also like to use words as weapons.” The elder paladin’s eyes twinkled playfully as he smiled at her. “You know, those Knights of the Silver Hand won’t be so apt to train you if you smart off to them.”

The protective bubble she had been working on popped, causing tiny slivers of shimmering light to float down around her like snowflakes. Azheira stilled and looked at her teacher with wide, rapt eyes. Her jaw dropped, but no sound came out.

Brother Karman chuckled. “Ah hah! I have finally learned the secret to keeping you from using that rapier-like tongue.”

“You…you…really?” She had finally found her voice, but seemed incapable of forming a coherent question. Words came, but no sense could be made of it. Stumbling and stuttering seemed to be all she was capable of at the moment. “What…they…really?”

Finally, after much stammering on her part, Brother Karman decided he had teased her enough. “Yes, Azheira, beginning next week, they will take you on as an apprentice.”

As girls of a certain age were apt to do when excited, Azheira squealed. In her exuberance, she forgot the decorum she was supposed to show around her teacher and jumped up, giving him what could only be described as a full body hug. Brother Karman smiled indulgently as he patted her back. He knew how much she had wanted this and he had done everything he could to make it happen for his young student.

At just that moment, several sentries walked by the training yard, eyeing the pair of them with narrowed and suspicious glances. Brother Karman grimaced as he gently pulled Azheira’s arms away from his neck.

“Azheira, people are looking at us.”

“Oh!” She let go and backed up a few steps, having the grace to look a bit sheepish at her overly enthusiastic reaction to the news. “Sorry.” She turned and waved to the guards, and was, fortunately, just rational enough to refrain from sticking her tongue out at them.

It was hard, keeping the excitement inside. Azheira could feel her heart dancing with delight inside her chest. Suddenly, her feet were moving to the pulsing rhythm of her heartbeat. She looked back at the man standing next to her, the one who had made this happen, and grabbed his hands. Her joy was contagious and he moved with her for just a few minutes.

Just as quickly as she had effervesced over with eagerness and anticipation, her blissful mood abruptly ceased and her usually sunny expression seemed to fall behind a cloud. “Did you…uh…talk to my parents about this?”

Her teacher knew and understood her fears and he made haste to assuage them. “Yes, Azheira, I have already spoken to both your parents and they have agreed this is what is best for your training.”

She blinked several times. “Both? Even my dad?”

“That is what both means.”

“Wow…I didn’t think he…would say yes.”

“He wants what is best for you. You know this.”

Azheira’s expression soured slightly and she muttered softly, “He sure has a funny way of showing it.”

“He is allowing you this, Azheira. Show him the gratefulness and respect he deserves.”

Kicking at the soft grass below with one foot, she created a small divot. “Well, yeah, I suppose he did say yes.” She raised her eyes, the innate sparkle and smile she usually had, returning. “Brother Karman, I can’t thank you enough. Can I still come to you for lessons too?”

He shook his head. “You won’t need it, but if you would like, perhaps we could get together for lunch once a week.”

Nodding happily, she jumped and did a little twirl. “Yep! I’ll bring the fish! Speaking of…I need to go tell Lacey.” She leaned over and gave Brother Karman a quick peck on the cheek before darting off, her long blonde hair streaming out behind her.

The door would have burst open if the recent spring rains hadn’t swollen the wood. As it was, the door groaned as the bottom scraped along the equally distended floor. Azheira put her shoulder into the effort and was rewarded with a bruise.

“Ow!” She stuck her head through the opening and looked around for her sister. “Lace?”

The front room of the cottage was fresh and tidy. Azheira’s mother must have been cleaning again this morning. Either that or she had gotten Lacey to do it. Azheira grinned as she realized she had been spared the duty of dusting. She hated dusting. Her fingertips trailed along the back of the spotless settee as she made her way to the kitchen to grab a snack. Spying the dishes in the sink, she rolled her eyes. Obviously, someone had thought to leave some work for her. Plucking an apple out of the basket hanging near the bay window, she decided the news she had to tell Lacey was too good and the dishes would have to wait.

She grabbed a second apple for her sister and ran upstairs. Bypassing their parents’ room, she poked her head in the one she shared with Lacey. The room was small, but just big enough for the girls. It had two beds set against opposing walls with a window in between. Azheira let out a forlorn sigh as she glanced at her younger sister’s precisely made bed and the stuffed animals lined up in a straight row on the shelf above. Lacey was very much like their mother in regards to keeping house.

Squishing her face up into a frown, she looked over at her own side of the room. The coverlet on her bed was, at least, pulled up, but it was slightly askew and there were several lumps outlining the rumpled sheet underneath. Even Azheira’s shelf was mostly a mess. One half had some old dolls she used to play with but just hadn’t gotten around to getting rid of yet. They were lying in a jumbled pile, arms and legs dangling precariously off the ledge. In sharp contrast, the other side of the shelf was remarkably neat. Quite a few books were lined up with their spines facing outward so that she could easily pick out her favorites. Her eyes lit up as she scanned the well-worn covers. Reading was a great passion of hers and she did it whenever she could spare a moment alone.

Taking a bite of her apple before she slid down the bannister, she considered where her missing sister might be. Just as she was about to head out the front door, she heard a loud bark coming from behind the house. Azheira spun around and dashed through the kitchen, passing the dirty dishes without a glance, and out the back door.

“LA—“Her shout was cut off when two very large paws landed on her chest, pushing her into the door behind her. Dog slobber suddenly covered her face. From a few feet away, Lacey began to laugh uproariously.

Azheira sputtered, “Aeg-Aegwynn!” She dropped the apples and put her arms up to defend herself against the excitable dog. “Down girl! Lacey! Help!”

Lacey, however, was no help at all as she was doubled over giggling. “Oh, Ashy! Your face!”

Her sister’s tinkling laugh was infectious and soon, Azheira was giggling too. Fortunately, after a minute or two, Aegwynn lost interest in licking Azheira and trotted off to find a bone. When their laughter had subsided enough to speak, Azheira picked the apples, cleaned them off on her sleeve and handed the one without bite marks to her sister.

“I’ve got some good news, Lace!”

“Oh, yeah? What?” She grabbed Azheira’s hand and led her over to the swing hanging from a large tree. Lacey sat down, kicking off the ground with her foot to get some movement going. She looked at Azheira expectantly as she began to eat her apple.

Azheira could not contain her smile. It stretched almost all the way across her face. “Brother Karman got the Knights of the Silver Hand to take me on as an apprentice.”

“Oh, Ashy! Wow! You’ve been wanting that forever.”

“Yep! And the best part is…dad agreed.”

“He did?” Lacey was as astonished as Azheira had been when she found out.

“Uh huh.”

Lacey looked at her older sister with pride and awe. “We should celebrate.” She jumped down off the swing and took Azheira’s hand again. “Come on, let’s go bake a cake.”

“That sounds great, but you know I can’t cook.”

Her short, dark hair bobbed as Lacey nodded. “I know, that’s why I'll bake and you can clean up!”

“Oka—wait a minute! You just want to get back at me for not helping with the dusting.”

Wiggling her eyebrows mischievously, Lacey giggled and began to run for the house. Azheira was much faster than her sister and easily caught up. She grabbed the younger girl around the waist and brought her to the ground for an immediate tickle attack. Aegwynn wasn’t about to be left out of the fun. The dog set upon the two girls and ferociously began to lick them. The cake, and the dishes, were forgotten as the sounds of happiness filled the yard.

…There were only a few pockets of Alliance resistance forces left. One such group, consisting of primarily high elves, was led by the last of the Sunstrider dynasty: Prince Kael’thas.

“Azheira?”

Diffused late afternoon sunlight filtered through the window pane. Azheira shifted on her bed when her mother called her name, but she made no effort to respond. Instead, she turned the page of her book and continued reading.

Kael, an accomplished wizard himself, grew wary of the failing Alliance. The high elves grieved for the loss of their homeland and decided to call themselves blood elves in honor of their fallen people. Yet, as they worked to keep the Scourge at bay, they suffered greatly at being cut off from the Sunwell that had empowered them.

“Azheira!” This time the voice was male and far more forceful than the first. Azheira didn’t ignore her father, exactly, but she was rather engrossed in her reading and she simply failed to recognize the slight tenor of anger in his voice.

Desperate to find a cure for his people’s racial addiction to magic, Kael did the unthinkable: he embraced his people’s Highborne ancestry and joined with Illiadan and his naga in hopes of finding a new magical power source upon which to feed. The remaining Alliance commanders condemned the blood elves as traitors and cast them out for good.

Footsteps pounding up the stairs was soon followed by the bedroom door opening. Lacey stuck her head in and whispered, “Ashy, you better come now. It’s time for supper and daddy is in a mood.”

Azheira rolled her eyes. “When is he not in a mood?” Nevertheless, she stuck a bookmark in between the pages in order to keep her place and set the book on her pillow. She looked up at her sister. “All right. I’m coming.”

At the top of the staircase, Azheira started to bring one leg up so she could slide down the railing, but a warning look from Lacey caused her to think better of it. The sisters walked down hand in hand.

Thuran Lautrec was sitting on the settee, reading the newspaper. His hands jerked and the paper snapped as the girls passed him.

“When I call you, Azheira—“ His statement was cut off when Lacey leaned over and kissed his forehead.

“I love you, Daddy.”

Thuran sighed heavily, but he could not resist his youngest child’s sweet smile. He responded in kind and reached up to tousle her dark hair that was so like his beloved wife’s locks. Lacey gently pushed the newspaper aside and took one of his hands with her free one.

Azheira glanced sidelong at her father as he got up. She knew he preferred her sister’s honeyed disposition as opposed to her own obstinate and quarrelsome one. Sometimes, she wished she could be more like her sister, but it was so hard. She had no idea how Lacey did it but she was extremely grateful to the buffer it provided between herself and their father.

The three of them walked to the kitchen together. Thuran dropped Lacey’s hand so he could step behind his wife who was busy stirring the soup on the stove. He leaned in and nuzzled the back of her neck, softly murmuring something in her ear. Elizabeth Lautrec giggled like a school girl and her husband winked at her while picking up the soup pot and carrying it to the table. She followed with a loaf of freshly baked bread. After setting the pot down, Thuran pulled out his wife’s chair and once she had sat, he waved a hand at their daughters, indicating they could now sit as well. Lacey did so delicately, with her back and shoulders straight. Azheira just sort of flopped into her chair, slouching, but at an admonishing glance from her mother, she shifted to mimic her sister’s posture.

While Elizabeth spooned the fish stew into bowls and passed them around, Thuran tore off a chunk of bread before passing it to Azheira. She nodded her thanks, took her own piece and passed it to Lacey. As she did so, her sister gave her a pointed look and tilted her head toward their father. Azheira looked away. She knew Lacey wanted her to show some gratitude toward their father for allowing her to train with the Silver Hand. Azheira wanted to. She really did, but his gruff attitude toward her made it so difficult. Still, she knew she ought to say something.

“Um. Dad? Brother Karman told me about the Knights of the Silver Hand wanting to take me as an apprentice and um…he also told me you agreed.” She paused at a small movement from Elizabeth’s side of the table. Azheira glanced over and felt bolstered at her mother’s encouraging smile. “Anyway. I …uh wanted to thank you.” She stopped talking after that and looked down at her soup, but did not pick up her spoon.

Thuran was silent for a minute while he inspected his elder daughter’s features. She was so much like him, with her blond hair and pale blue eyes, it was uncanny. He did not smile, but offered a terse nod instead. “Just don’t be your usual ornery self with them. Or they will remove you from their ranks.”

Lacey frowned and Elizabeth’s eyes glistened with disapprobation. Azheira’s hold on her posture failed. She slunk down in her seat as she stuffed a bite of bread in her mouth. She ate hurriedly and excused herself as soon as possible. Forgetting about her book, she stormed out the back door, allowing it to slam shut behind her. She paused near a small lean-to at the side of the house. The structure was filled with fishing gear, as would be expected at a fish merchant’s home. Azheira grabbed her favorite pole, the one her father had given her for her twelfth birthday, along with a medium sized tackle box. She turned and strode out of the yard, Aegwynn barking at her.

“Come on, girl. Keep me company while I fish.”

The dog yapped excitedly and followed as Azheira made her way through the trees. She climbed the small hill that lead to the sandy dunes of Dustwallow’s shores. Opening the box, she removed what she needed and with practiced ease, she effortlessly baited her hook and cast the line. Holding the pole with one hand, she closed the tackle box and sat down on top of it. Aegwynn ran off, splashing in the tide as she chased the giant spikeshells along the beach. Azheira shook her head, but didn’t bother trying to stop the dog.

“She’s going to scare the fish,” came her father’s brusque voice from several feet behind her.

Azheira jumped a little, but didn’t get up and she certainly didn’t reel in her line. Whatever Thuran had to say to her, he could say it to her back.

“Sometimes I speak before I think. I’m sorry, Ashy.”

Azheira sucked in her lower lip and began to gnaw on it. His use of the childhood nickname he had given her made it difficult to keep a stern face. She reeled in her line so she could give her father her full attention.

“I will admit that training as a paladin is not what I had in mind for you, but, I know it is what you want, and…” He paused for a moment to come around and face her. “Brother Karman tells me you show great promise. The Silver Hand will be lucky to have you.” Lifting his right hand, he showed her he had brought his own pole. He gave her a rare smile and pointed at the tackle box she was sitting on. “We haven’t fished together in a long time. May I?”

Azheira nodded and stood so he could get some bait. Once he was ready, they cast their lines in unison and waited for the catch.

The easterly wind was strong, buffeting hard against the ships docked at Theramore’s port. Brine soaked air permeated the clothes and hair of those who worked there. Sailors, longshoremen and merchants all milled about the docks, going about their business. Sentries patrolled the area, the morning sun glinting off their silver armor.

Suddenly a strong gale ripped through the port at a high velocity, causing the wooden planks in the dock to shudder and twisting hair into kinks as tight as stopper knots. A dinghy that had not been secured properly came free from its painter. Most of the dock workers were busy and didn’t notice the skiff headed toward a rocky outcropping. A pair of sailors who had been telling each other bawdy stories while they coiled the dock lines that were not currently in use spotted the small boat being tossed about by the incoming waves. Quickly, one of them attached a small hook onto a mooring warp and tossed it at the dinghy. It caught and they were able to pull the boat alongside the dock, this time securing the painter a bit more tightly. Aboard a nearby fishing vessel, several sailors cheered at the dock workers’ fast reaction.

This fishing boat was larger than most of the others in port and a good sized crew manned it. It had just come in from a six month voyage, first selling fish found near Kalimdor to merchants in the Eastern Kingdoms and then spent the remainder of their journey fishing. The vessel had a rather hefty haul to show for it. Fish from all over the waters of Azeroth were packed in ice, waiting to be transported to Thuran Lautrec’s warehouse. Thuran himself, stood at the end of the dock, conversing with the captain.

“We had the most luck close to home, Mr. Lautrec. The largest part of the hull, in the aft portion of the ship is stuffed to the gills with Rockscale Cod.”

Thuran’s lips tipped upward in a quick smile at the joke, but he immediately went back to making notes on his clipboard as each crate of fish was lowered to the dock and hauled off quickly so as to preserve freshness. His iced warehouse, carefully built with gnomish engineering technology, could store the fish nearly indefinitely without spoilage.

“The haul is impressive, Captain Wentworth. You and your crew will be amply rewarded for having been away from your families for so long.”

Frederic Wentworth smiled. “My crew is always happy to set sail for Thuran Industries. We know how much you value family.” He hesitated briefly and then asked, “How is your family, sir? I trust Elizabeth, Lacey and….Azheira are doing well.”

“They are all in excellent health. The sea air is good for Lautrec lungs.”

“That is good to hear, sir.” Another tentative pause as he pursed his lips. “Your girls are doing well with their studies, I presume?”

Thuran frowned slightly and put off answering for a few minutes as he continued to check things off on his clipboard. “Yes, they are both intelligent young women.” He looked up at the captain with thoughtful eyes. “I am sure Elizabeth and the girls would love to see you. Why don’t you join us for dinner this evening, Captain?”

A wide smile crossed Frederic’s face. “A home cooked meal made by the lovely Elizabeth Lautrec? How could I possibly say no?”

A gust of wind puffed in from the open window. Searching for something to stir, it rustled at the curtains, causing the fabric to whip inward like an unfurled sail on a blustery day. It darted across the end table causing an empty tea cup to clatter in its saucer. Sensing body heat like a missile would, the breeze shot forward, licking at pale, blond hair, instigating a small struggle for control as the girl tried to keep the locks out of her eyes and hold her book open at the same time. But as quickly as it had blown in, the draft hissed and moaned and petered out.

Sighing, Azheira reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear before turning the page. She was laying on her stomach, propped up by her elbows, on the settee. Her left knee was bent so that her calf was perpendicular to her body. She had her foot hooked over the back of the sofa and her toes were wiggling in time to music only she could hear. Several hours had passed thusly.

Azheira was so engrossed in her novel that she did not notice the younger girl sneaking ever so quietly up to the back of the couch. Lacey crept along, barely breathing so as to not alert Azheira of her presence. In her hand, she held up a duster made of soft feathers. Slowly, very slowly, she inched the feathers until they were just barely brushing ball of her sister’s exposed foot.

Azheira’s toes jerked.

The duster retracted.

Lacey bit the inside of her cheek in an effort to stifle the giggle that threatened to burst forth and ruin the fun. After a minute’s meditation, the duster again reached its target, this time making a sweep of the instep of the foot.

Azheira’s ankle snapped so hard the joint made a popping sound, immediately followed by a giggle from Lacey. The book hit the floor as Azheira jumped up and flipped over the settee – almost in one smooth motion. The younger girl tried to get away, but it was no use. Azheira soon had her sister pinned to the floor. Snatching the duster, she quickly tugged off Lacey’s socks and proceeded to retaliate.

Elizabeth Lautrec decided to put a halt to the fracas and called out from the kitchen, “Girls? We are having a guest for supper and I could use some help.” Azheira pinched Lacey’s left pinkie toe before standing up and holding a hand out to help her sister rise.

Dubiously, Lacey eyed the hand. “I dunno, Ashy.”

“Come on, Lace. Mom needs us and I’ll be good.” She punctuated her statement by sticking her tongue out. Lacey giggled and took hold of the proffered hand. Both girls flounced into the kitchen. Azheira grabbed a carrot from the counter and took a bite. “Who’s coming to supper?”

Elizabeth did not turn around from the sink, where she was peeling potatoes. “Captain Wentworth.”

Lacey jabbed her sister in the ribs with her elbow and grinned. Azheira half-heartedly shoved at the elbow with one hand and frowned. “Oh. Uh. Just him?”

Nodding, Elizabeth set the potatoes aside and motioned to the knife rack. “Yes, just him, now will you two cut those up and set them to boil?”

Looking as innocent as could be, Lacey sauntered over to do what their mother had asked. Amiably, she asked, “I think the captain is sweet on Ashy.”

“He is not! And even if he was, I am not sweet on him!”

“Oh, come on, Ashy, he is kinda handsome.”

“You think so? Good. You can have him.”

“He doesn’t want me. He wants you and Daddy wants him to marry you and take you out to sea so you will forget this paladin stuff.”

Both Elizabeth and Azheira turned to stare at Lacey. The elder woman’s gaze was admonishing. Azheira merely stood there with her mouth agape for a minute before she turned to her mother.

“Mom? Is that true?”

Closing her eyes, Elizabeth appeared to be praying. When she had composed herself, she opened her eyes, looking kindly at her oldest daughter. “Your father merely wants you to be happy, Azheira.”

“I am happy. My training makes me happy. He knows this! He said I could do it!”

“I know, my dear, but someday you will want a husband and childr…” Her voice trail off when she saw Azheira was already shaking her head. “You don’t think you want those things now, but you will – someday. Now, fetch the butter out of the larder and a jar of strawberry jam out of the cold cellar.”

As soon as she turned to do as her mother asked, Azheira’s expression turned sour. “So Dad wants me to get married, does he?” She muttered to herself as she exited the house and headed toward the cellar. “We’ll just see about that.”

“Ridiculous.”

“I know, right?”

“Ashy, you look like you’re twelve years old.”

“Exxxxxactly.” Azheira nodded, her blonde hair swinging forward from the two pigtails she had just twisted elastic bands around. Smirking, she popped a piece of gum in her mouth and added, “Dad’s plan to marry me off so he doesn’t have to deal with me anymore is going to backfire in his face.”

Lacey’s eyelashes fluttered as she looked away. “I don’t….I don’t think he wants to get rid of you, Ashy.”

“Oh, come on, Lace. We both know he likes you better than me.” Flippant and easy, she spoke, but for the briefest of moments, the usual spark had left her soft blue eyes, as she too, averted her gaze. “We better go help Mom with supper or we won’t hear the end of it.”

Firmly setting her jaw with determination, Azheira left their room and headed downstairs. Lacey followed at a much slower pace, not quite as enthusiastic about the next few hours as her big sister was. She suspected it was going to be a disaster.

***

Lacey had to concede. Supper with her family and Captain Wentworth wasn’t a disaster. It had been a cataclysmic catastrophe. Deathwing himself could not have made the event worse. In fact, Lacey thought that a swath of fiery dragon breath might possibly have made the meal better. At least, it would have put an end to the ordeal much sooner.

Azheira had been her usual snarky self, but had thrown in a few other attributes for good measure. Boorish and ill-tempered topped the list, with a general immaturity pervading the whole attitude. Elizabeth was bewildered. Thuran, on the other hand, was livid. Fortunately, Captain Wentworth seemed to take it all in stride and he bantered back and forth with Azheira more than once. Of course, that seemed to confuse the girl and caused her rhythm of mockery to break from its fast moving cadence, but she quickly regained her tempo of loud jokes and picked up the pace with the popping of her gum.
Afterwards, when the men had retired to Thuran’s office for drinks and cigars, Elizabeth pinned Azheira to her chair with a look only mothers can give to their wayward children. Twirling one pigtail with her fingers, Azheira slumped down, avoiding her mother’s scrutiny.

“Azheira.”

“Hm?”

“Look at me. Now.”

Mustering a tentative smile, Azheira glanced up. “What’s wrong, Mom?” She blinked a few times, perhaps attempting to look innocent, perhaps preparing for the slap that may be headed her way. But her thoughts were mostly focused on trying to assess just how mad her mom really was. As it turns out, Elizabeth Lautrec was rather angry, but she was also slightly bemused.

“That wasn’t really funny, Azheira.”

“It wasn’t? Not even when the gum ‘accidentally’ popped out of my mouth and rolled across the table and onto Captain Wentworth’s lap? Because I thought that part was hilarious.”

From over at the sink where she was washing dishes, Lacey giggled as she gave her sister a sideways look. Azheira lowered her left eyelid in an overly dramatic wink. A stern frown at both girls from their mother had Lacey back to soaping up the pot she was cleaning and Azheira sitting up a bit straighter.

“You couldn’t possibly have thought you would get away with that kind of behavior without repercussions, did you?”

Blond hair shifted and slid off one shoulder as she raised it in a half shrug. “I dunno, Mom. I was kinda hoping you and Dad would laugh too.”

“No. No, you were not hoping that. What you wanted was to make the captain so disgusted with you that he would never set foot in this house again.”

Azheira slipped a little lower in her seat and began using her right thumbnail to pick at the cuticles on her left hand. She did not respond to her mother’s statement. Any sort of retort she might come up with would sound as if she were trying to provoke an argument. Except for the water sloshing in the sink, silence prevailed while Elizabeth stared at her eldest daughter and pondered what to do. The daughter under consideration sat in unnatural quietness, waiting for the judgment to hit.

Sighing, Elizabeth glanced out the bay window into the yard beyond. Aegwynn stood on her hind legs and placed her front paws on the glass, barking at the three Lautrec women. Suddenly, Elizabeth smiled and turned to Azheira with a sly twinkle in her faded brown eyes.

“Azheira, since you are fond of making messes you shall now have to clean one up. Go outside and poop scoop the yard.”

Lacey snorted loudly and dropped a plate causing water to spray all over her midriff. Eyes widening like saucers, Azheira squirmed and made a small noise in protest. Her mother merely stood there, folding her hands together in front of her and waited for Azheira to move. It took a few minutes, but eventually the girl got up and shuffled dejectedly across the floor and out the back door, muttering as she went.

“Awww, crap.”

Bowing politely to Elizabeth, Frederich Wentworth thanked her for the fine meal. Turning to Thuran, he shook the elder gentleman’s hand, picked up his hat while winking at Lacey and exited the cottage. Pausing on the porch, he inhaled deeply of the salty sea breeze coming in over the dunes and understood why the Lautrecs had chosen to live here instead of in the middle of Theramore’s bustling streets.

The brim of his hat shaded his eyes from the rays of the setting sun as they sought out the pastel hues coloring the late evening sky. Frederich glanced down the rose lined path that lead to the main road. He really should be getting back to the ship, he thought, but there was something else he wanted to do first. Looking back at the front window, he made sure no one was watching before he deftly stepped over the pink flowers and onto the swath of dense, but neatly trimmed grass. At the corner of the house he scanned the yard, searching without success. He frowned. It was a little late for a young woman to head into the city, but perhaps she had gone merely to spite her father. Frederich wouldn’t put it past her. A sudden bark followed by laughter coming from beyond the dunes gave the captain a satisfactory grin as he began trudging in that direction.

Coming around the side of a medium trunked tree, he stopped and leaned against it. Azheira’s back was to him, her pale hair lifting off her back as a gust of brackish wind swept it up. By the stretch of no one’s imagination was she stunning to look at, but she was also quite removed from being trollishly abhorrent. Frederich watched her bend over to pick up the stick she had been tossing for her dog. Her body was trim, fit and pleasing to his eye. Her enjoyment of the sea was obvious. She wasn’t afraid of it. That was good. And even though it had not been spoken, Frederich knew very well what Thuran wanted for his eldest daughter. He rolled one shoulder in sort of shrug. He was not opposed to marrying the girl, but she would need some tempering first. That fiery spark in her personality was certainly attractive and intriguing, but a bit too rebellious for a captain’s wife.

Mulling over his options, he shifted his feet, disturbing a tiny sand crab who did not appreciate it. The crustacean snapped at Frederich’s boot only to be kicked several yards away. Seemingly cowed, the crab quickly scuttled between some rocks. Most women Frederich knew were like the crab. A few good hits and they became more malleable. His dark, hooded eyes watched Azheira for a bit longer as she romped in the sea spray with her canine friend, his expression darkening.

***

Azheira laughed as Aegwynn pawed at the water, trying to find the stick. Suddenly, the dog’s head snapped up. Looking past Azheira, she growled and snarled, taking a stance in front of the young paladin. A bit confused at the animal’s sudden change of demeanor, Azheira turned to see what had caused it.

“Drat,” she mumbled through her slightly less than genuine smile. Louder, she said, “This is a bit out of the way to your ship, isn’t it, Captain?”

He said nothing as he approached, his eyes occasionally darting to the barking dog. She noticed he did not seem afraid of Aegwynn, just guarded. Azheira snapped her fingers. Instantly, the dog backed up and sat next to the girl. His expression seemed surprised, but Captain Wentworth nodded his appreciation of her command over the animal.

When he was directly in front of her, he reached up to push a strand of windswept hair out of her eyes. Feeling awkward, Azheira leaned away from him and Aegwynn snapped. The captain only chuckled. His dark eyes probed her soft ones for a minute before he spoke.

“I do need to get back to the ship so I will make this brief. You and I both know what your father expects, Azheira. It can be very easy between us – if you let it. I would prefer for it to be easy. Wouldn’t you?” He tipped his hat and smiled genially at her as he left.

Azheira watched him go, her thoughts edgy. Aegwynn didn’t stop growling until the man was out of sight.

The green deckhand clung to the rail as he threw his upper body over the edge and hurled the contents of his stomach into the ocean. Some of the veterans stood nearby, hooting at him. Clearly the deck ape they had picked up in Ratchet was having trouble acclimating to life at sea.

A young woman with long blond hair tucked back into a ponytail strode confidently on her well adapted sea legs towards the boy. She waited until his lunch was gone before handing him a towel. Gratefully, he cleaned himself up, offering her a white lipped smile. Azheira shook her head in chagrin as she turned to skip up the forecastle deck and blew a kiss to the first mate before jumping out onto the bowsprit, long legs dangling on either side.

“Gods damn, Miss Lautrec! The cap’n’s gonna ‘ave a fit if’n he sees ya out there ag’n.”

“Oh, pish posh. He knows I can handle myself.”

“Yah, we all know it, but…” The first mate’s dark brown eyes pleaded with her. “Please, Miss.”

Azheira stuck her tongue out at him and shook her head. She had done this so many times, she could practically do it in her sleep. Sigmund continued to beseech her, but she was oblivious. This was her element. A sturdy ship under her feet, the wind in her hair and the sea below. Freedom, that’s what this was and she relished every minute of it.

With a final warning to be careful, Sigmund gave up and went back to his duties. Azheira sighed contentedly and leaned over, one palm on top of the other with her chin resting lightly above. Her long, lean legs stretched out behind her, a knee on either side of the bowsprit and crossed ankles hooked on the beam for balance.

“This is the life!”

Three months had passed since the dinner with Captain Wentworth. He had sailed a few days afterwards and Azheira could not have been more grateful. Since that night, she had spent all her spare time plotting her escape. Fortunately, her previous teacher, Brother Karman, had inadvertently come upon the perfect plan.

While traveling through Desolace, the old paladin had come across some information regarding a new threat. No one was quite sure what it was, but Brother Anton in Nijel’s Point had felt the insidious of it was enough to warrant spreading the word. He had contacted Brother Karman and showed him the effects of this force upon some of the undead in the Valley of Bones. Samples were taken and returned to Theramore.

The Knights of the Silver Hand, who were training Azheira, found this to be a bit alarming. The decision to send someone to Light’s Hope to inform the Argent Dawn was made. However, they were a small company and couldn’t afford to lose a member for any length of time. Brother Karman suggested Azheira.

Only one misgiving had almost prevented her from taking the assignment. Lacey. Azheira was loath to leave her sister. In the end, it was Lacey who had encouraged her to go. She understood Azheira’s feelings toward Captain Wentworth as well her longing for freedom. It was at Lacey’s urging that Azheira finally agreed.

As soon as she had set foot on the ship, any reservations had washed away like an ebbing tide. The caressing balm of the rolling deck beneath her feet soothed her worries and fears. Azheira wasn’t even concerned about the contents of her trunk. She had been told to keep it quiet, so no one else knew about the small box of samples inside. Azheira knew there was no need for worry. If Brother Karman had thought it a danger to her, he would never have suggested she be the courier. And now, here she was, breathing the salty air as the ship sailed towards the Eastern Kingdoms. Azheira smiled happily.

A movement beneath the waves caught her eye. Looking down, she saw what appeared to be a face under the water. Distorted and grotesque, it caught her off guard. Sitting up quickly, she began to scoot back towards the forecastle deck. Just as she had reached it, a drooping, malevolent eye glinted at her – a sly, devilish wink and a wave of water shaped like an arm reached out, nearly touching her foot. Azheira fell backwards, landing with a crash on the deck. As the wave collided into the ship, the garbled noise sounded like words.

“We’re coming.”

A tentative rap at the door. “Miss Lautrec? I have your breakfast here. And a letter has come for you.” The door popped open and a young woman with wet hair, her body wrapped only in a towel snatched the letter off the tray faster than the gnome holding it could blink.

“Thanks, Snicklebaum!”

“Of course, Miss Lautrec.” Snicklebaum set the tray upon the desk in the corner. “Will you be heading out again today? I can pack you a lunch if you would like.”

“Yes. Please. And thank you.”

The old gnome blushed when she leaned over to kiss his cheek. “I’ll put in your favorite dessert.” He scurried out the door, shutting it behind him.

Azheira grabbed a muffin off the tray and eagerly tore open the envelope. Seeing Lacey’s handwriting made her smile. Despite the circumstances that had caused Azheira to leave Theramore, news from home was a welcome respite. It had been a year since she had come to the Eastern Kingdoms. The ache of not seeing her sister everyday had not abated. Azheira missed Lacey something fierce. Nevertheless, she was enjoying her training here, even though it was not quite what she had imagined.

At first, she had thought she would have more to do with the box Brother Karman had sent with her. She couldn’t know for certain, but she had very strong impression that the shadowy face in the water had something to do with the box. It had seemed so important at the time. But when she arrived and told those in charge, they had decided it was a worry for a later time. The leaders of the Argent Dawn were more concerned with the scourge attacks all over the land. Azheira had been put to work immediately to help counter the outbreak. On the job training, so to speak. The box of samples had been tucked away into a vault for later research. When she had informed Brother Karman, his reply had been rather disappointed, but he assumed the head honchos knew best.

And Azheira had done her best to forget the day on the bowsprit. The image she had seen there had been so disturbing, it had given her nightmares for a week. The ship’s crew was always so busy, no one had noticed the dark circles under her eyes. There had been a passenger, a woman, who had commented on it, but Azheira determined she would not let a simple shadow frighten her, so she chose not to speak of it. Of course, she hadn’t gone out on the bowsprit again.

She read the letter twice before dispatching the bacon and fresh fruit Snicklebaum had brought. The gnome wasn’t quite as good a cook as her mother, but he made up for it with enthusiasm and salt. Plus, he was the best armor polisher she had ever met. He could make her chestplate shine like a million suns at noon. Which was a good thing considering her cleaning skills had not improved since her arrival. A quick survey of her room almost produced a plaintive sigh, but then she remembered she didn’t care if clothing was strewn about the floor or if the desk was cluttered with papers. She would much rather be outdoors, doing paladiny things.

Azheira picked up the sack lunch from the kitchen, grabbed an extra apple and made her way to the courtyard, wondering what new assignment she would get today. The grass had barely felt two paces of her boots when she was attacked.

“Is that an apple?”

Sharp blue eyes darted to her left at the sudden approach of Hawkins. “No. It’s a sturgeon.”

“Azheira, I’m starving. You’re a girl. You don’t want to eat, right? Females like to keep trim and all.”

The apple bounced off his forehead and back into Azheira’s hand with astounding accuracy.

“OW!”

“Get your own apple.”

His expression abruptly changed to one of chagrin. “I can’t.”

“Your feet don’t appear to be broken. Of course, I could always make that happen if you don’t stop hounding me for food. It’s been every day this week, Hawkins.”

The young man, who was a year or two older than Azheira, began to whine like a four year old. “Puhleeze? They won’t let me in the kitchen anymore because of what happened last week.”

Azheira took a bite of the apple in question while Hawkins stared in jealousy. “You did that? I heard it was bandits who broke in and made that mess. Wow, Hawkins, are you ill?” She leaned over, placing her hand on his forehead. “You do seem a bit feverish.”

“I’m not sick. Just hungry. And the kitchen incident was an accident!” He grumbled as he stalked off. Rounding the corner, he glanced back, his expression distorted into bleakness.

Azheira shivered.

No, not bleak, she decided. It was as if a cloud passed over and had formed shadows inside his face. “An accident?” She murmured with a shake of her head. “They had to rebuild an entire wall of cabinets in the pantry.” She turned away. Hawkins was not her problem and she needed to get the day’s assignment. Her pace quickened along the path to the commander’s tent. When she was within ten paces a woman stepped in front of her, blocking the way.

“Hello.”

Azheira recognized her. She had been the other female passenger on the ship sailing from Kalimdor, but the elder woman had not been seen since.

“Uh…hi…Agalhy?” Azheira smiled politely as she completely mangled the woman’s name while trying to step around her.

“Oh, it’s Algalhenste, but thank you for trying.” She moved, efficiently blocking Azheira’s exit and pointed in the direction Hawkins had gone. “He’s acting a bit odd, wouldn’t you say?”

Azheira frowned. “Yes, but it’s none of my business. Or yours.”

Algalhenste’s lips pressed into a twisted grin. “Oh, you are quite wrong on that my dear. I know you saw the shadow.” She stepped to the side, letting Azheira pass. “And the other one as well – the one in the water.” Her gaze became scrutinizing. “It most definitely is your business. Or will be.”

The younger woman paused. “The water.”

“Oh, yes. I know you have not forgotten. It is impossible to forget them.”

When the White Lady is shadowed and the Blue Child is crying, machinations do no good and meticulously crafted plans will often fall awry.


At the time, the stables had seemed like the perfect cover. Animals, needing only food, shelter, exercise and proper care, are easy and predictable. No possible concern for specters and unnatural hungers. No need for strange women to pop out from behind walls or around doors spouting declarations of the end of the world.

Throughout the barn, the swish-twitch of Azheira’s broom could be heard echoing in the nearly silent building. Most of the horses were out on patrol. Only Fergus, the stallion who had recently become ill and needed to rest, was present along with a rascally mutt no one had bothered to name. The dog followed Azheira everywhere. As soon as her request to work with the animals had been approved, the canine had decided Azheira was his best friend. She didn’t mind – she missed Aegwynn and this dog wasn’t a half bad substitute. He was certainly better company than Algalhenste.

Since that day in the yard, the woman had been attached to the young paladin like sticky rice – the kind that won’t let go of your fingers even if you shake your hand violently. Constantly going on and on about how Azheira needed to work with her, to prepare, to train. They are coming, she said, pointing at Hawkins and others, without giving specifics. Well, Azheira had heard that one before – from the phantom in the water – and she had no intention of getting involved with whatever that crazy mess was all about.

Hay flipped up and fluttered down into her hair as the broom swung a little harder when she thought about Hawkins. The poor boy seemed to have gone mad. It was nearly impossible for him to complete an assignment in a timely manner. He took too many lunch breaks. In three months’ time, his armor had to be refitted on five occasions. And the shadows under his skin grew darker and more sinister each day. Azheira avoided him altogether, but not for the reason he suspected. Hawkins had accused her of shunning him for his weight gain, but that wasn’t it at all. She could see the dark serpent gliding just below the surface. Why others did not observe it, was inexplicable.

One day, Algalhenste had cornered her in the common room, demanding the paladin do something – so she did. The following morning, Azheira made an assignment request – to the stables. Of course, the commander was quite surprised as Azheira was one of the regiment’s more promising trainees. He tried to convince her to choose something more in line with the Light, but her insistence was persuasive. Eventually, he agreed, but told her it was for a limited time only. That had been a month ago.

A peaceful month, however, as Algalhenste had left her alone. Mostly. She still popped her head in the barn every now and again, and she liked to sit beside Azheira during the evening meal. Her hawk-like gaze on the others, occasionally nodding with an ‘ah-hah’ expression as she pinched Azheira’s arm or pulled her hair. Azheira refused to look. In fact, she started taking her meals in her room.

A sudden clatter of hooves and the mutt’s yapping broke Azheira’s musings. The broom dragged behind her, hay piling up underneath the bristles as she went to check on Fergus.

“Hush, ya silly mutt. Quit barking at poor ol’ Fergus.” Just outside the horse’s stall, the dog snapped his jaw, but continued to whine, even after Azheira pulled a bit of bacon from her pocket. “Treat?” The dog didn’t notice. He just paced in front of the stall, whimpering as if he had a thorn stuck in his ear. Frowning, Azheira decided she could worry about the mutt after checking on Fergus.

Later that night, she would lie awake in bed, recalling every minute detail, but in the moment when she turned, her mind shut off. Closing like the final curtain after a play, the theatre shifting into darkness so thick, you cannot see your hand in front of your face until the house lights come on.

Only the barn didn’t have lights. And an eerie pall filled the building.

Fergus wasn’t ill. His body was still as a sleeping tiger. It was quite the contradiction then, to behold his head. Eyes rolled about wildly in their sockets, nostrils flared wide, teeth bared – gnashing. He did not seem to register the presence of the paladin or the dog. The latter of whom was alternating between a cowardly whine and a frightened bark while trying to press himself into Azheira’s calves.

From a window high above the stall, a rectangle of cheerful sunbeams flowed in, creating a lone bright spot on the floor. The rest of the stall, was consumed with shadow. A wave of muscle along Fergus’ flank rippled in a breaking wave just before he reared, front hooves crashing into the stall door. Azheira stumbled backwards, the broom dropping from her hand. Sensing Azheira’s fright, the dog spun, snarling at Fergus, but the horse paid no attention – or could not, as he seemed quite gone. He battered the door over and over, all the while, Azheira stood rigid against the far wall, her hands glowing with Light as she pushed against the umbra. For a time, it seemed to work. Fergus’ pounding slowed, his front hooves and fetlocks covered in wood slivers. He lowered his head, panting, heaving from the exertion. Azheira breathed a sigh of relief.

Too soon.

Fergus’ head rose, brown eyes shimmering with a dark dance of shades and gloom. He turned and kicked hard at the stall door with his hind legs, splintering the wood. Azheira only had time to grab the dog, and throw out a shield of Light, hoping the wild horse would leave them alone. He did not. Again and again, his hooves beat upon the shield. Frightened, the dog squirmed and fought for release. Azheira struggled to maintain her hold on the animal and keep the shield around them. How long she stayed there, breathing the feral breath of the shadow controlled beast as each hit of his hooves against the shield seemed closer, she did not know.

Then, several things happened at once. None of which Azheira noticed, except that the pressure against the Light ceased. It was only later she understood Algalhenste had come looking for her. The woman had created a diversion by tossing a bucket of water at Fergus, drawing him to her. She threw open the barn doors, ducked behind one of them and the horse fled.

Even after she realized the danger was gone, Azheira held the shield. Algalhenste watched her for a long moment.

“You are strong. It is good. The fat boy and now the horse…you will need that strength. Come. You must see now that what I have spoken is the truth. We will train. You will fight.”

With the dog whining in her ear, Azheira finally let go of the shield and the mutt. Her nod to Algalhenste was far less acquiescence than it was curt. Her boots clicked sharply on the floor as she stalked out in silence.

The following morning, the commander read another reassignment request – this time for somewhere far away from the Plaguelands.

Groaning into the sand far below the surface, the boardwalk’s pillars shuddered. Bestial rumbles of thunder escorted waves crashing into the bay. A merchant’s wares, left outside a minute too long, were stripped apart by cleaving winds and flung, like yesterday’s garbage, into the sea. The sodden boardwalk, pliable and spongy, caused more than a few people to slip. The laundress would be busy tomorrow. But for now, the late afternoon’s busyness of a typical goblin city was forgotten in the rush to escape the squall.

The inn, nestled behind the counting house, was somewhat removed from the commotion. The majority of the tenants huddled together on the main floor, seeking warmth and perhaps a bit of alcoholic comfort. Bar maid Number One smirked at bar maid Number Two when the latter soused two traveling businessmen on the second floor after a particularly flamboyant slap of thunder. Innkeeper Skindle, his voice booming enough to reach that height, informed Number Two the cleaning bill would come out of her tips.

Separated from the commotion by a rather shoddy bridge, the other half of the second floor had several rooms with full baths in each – suites, the owner liked to call them. And tucked into a small corner in between the second and third floors was a small room. Originally, it had been the owner’s office, but when Innkeeper Skindle realized he could open it up to singles (or gnome or goblin couples), and the increased income it could generate, a section of his own quarters suddenly housed his desk and a bed was purchased for the former office. It was, after all, a goblin town and Skindle was quite full of typical goblin avarice.

An unsteady slash of rain slogged the window of this tiny domicile, forming liquid spaghetti strings as it slithered down the glass. Sitting atop the bed in the cramped former office, her legs crossed at the ankles as if she were a dainty maiden, Azheira blinked the sleep from her eyes and shifted her unfocused gaze from the quilt’s pattern to watch those trying to escape the storm. She watched as a dockworker toiled furiously to attach a headfast to the wharf. The downpour proved quite the hindrance, but he persevered and was nearly sucked away by a strong gust. Azheira’s pale blue eyes dimmed as they scanned the length of the ship, noting several already secured mooring lines. She watched as two longshoremen braved the elements to pry the other dock worker away. His violent hands told her he was arguing. Even from this distance, she knew there was a bleak shadow flitting just under his skin – feeling it more than actually seeing it on his face.

Sigh.

She saw them everywhere – the shadows. It didn’t seem to matter where she requested a transfer to, she always found them. Or they found her.