World of Warcraft®

“Calithara, sweetie. We’re planning on having Lyrilia over some time soon, and I know you’ve given her that stone.” The woman crossed her arms, tucking a piece of caramel hair behind her ear. “Now, tell your Aunt to come over here as quickly as she can, and we won’t tell your mum about those stones, ok?”

“Are you guys going to have an adult talk?” The young elf wrinkled her nose, toying with the stone she had pulled from her pocket.

“Yes, a very important one. Now, please tell her to come over because you want to see her and your mum is out. We promise she will be out, and you can talk to your aunt after we’re finished talking with her, ok?”

“Ok! I’ll go tell her now!’ The young elf skipped off down the hall to her room, her long blonde curls bouncing as she moved. A sly smile spread across the mages face as she watched her, turning with a swish of her robes to go back downstairs where the others were waiting.
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“Auntie Lyri? AUNTIE LYRI!” The little voice sounded through the stone, becoming more urgent with each calling of her name, eventually catching the warrior’s attention. Setting her book on the ground beside her she kept a close eye on it as she pulled the stone from her pocket, speaking into it.

“Calithara? Is that you? What is it, what’s wrong?” Her voice was calm, her expression confused. She had only spoken with the girl twice since getting the stone from Taye, and all the things having happened to her since running into him, were all a bit strange in her eyes.

“Nothing’s wrong! My mums going out for the day, my dad’s always busy, he has a lot of work to do today and he told me to go play by myself, or find someone to play with. I think you should come over Auntie! We can go play in the forest.”

“Well, you know I can’t...what if Alar- you’re dad notices I’m there?”

“But I’m hungry! I want you to come and make me something to eat; he’s too busy…and I can-“
“Alright, I’ll be over there as quickly as I can.” She shut the stone off, tucking it into the small bag she had brought, the book quickly following it. Rising from her spot by the tree, she brushed bits of grass and sand from her skirt, walking into the forest in the direction of her brother’s house.
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“She’s coming Alarius, stop pacing. Calithara’s a smart girl; she’ll know how to get her here. ”The mage ruffled the papers in front of her, searching for something. “Have you gotten the letters ready? Are you sure you go the style correct?”

“Yes, I left them over there…” He pointed to a small stack of rather old looking papers at the end of the table. “Are you sure this is going to work…? I mean...she’s stubborn and well she does seem pretty-“

“Nonsense. Of course it will. And if it doesn’t then we’ll think of something else. He’s the one way we can get this to work, and I won’t let it fall through. Now. Sit, before she gets here.” Her voice was cold, her eyes trained on the door, jumping slightly as it creaked open not to reveal Lyrilia, but Taye.

“Quelisa, Alarius.” He nodded to them in greeting, closing and locking the door behind him. With a few strides, he had reached the large conference table they had been sitting at, and slammed a thick red leather book on the table, the sound echoing through the large room. “I’ve read this, and I don’t agree with what you’re doing anymore.”

“What do you mean? Have you begun to doubt us, Taye?” Quelisa’s voice rose in annoyance, her arms crossed. “I can assure you, you –will- be getting your reward for helping us. We will make sure it all goes according to plan.”

“Well, I don’t care! You haven’t read this...” He picked the book up from the table, waving it in the air before him.”…and I have. I don’t agree with your plan anymore. I’m leaving here, bringing this back to her, and telling her. Everything.” He spun around, walking towards the door, but was quickly stopped.

((1/2))

His feet were rooted to the ground by ice, the chilling cold of the spell sending shivers through his body. The ice slowly creeped up, fully encasing his feet, and starting at his ankles. He shivered violently as it crept slowly upwards, the cold not only an outwards one, but one that seemed to freeze you completely to the core.
“Now, Taye. We’ll be giving that book back to her of course, but we won’t have you going and ruining things. Aside from Calithara, Lyrilia is the youngest now, and we’re not about to let her run off and go down like Evelise. We have a family name to uphold, and in our opinion, she’s slowly but surely becoming a dark spot on an impeccable record. Now, I’ll be taking this…” The mage reached out to rip the book from his hand, meeting with little resistance from the half-frozen figure. “…and you, will be going up to your room.” A small fireball met with the ice at his feet, quickly melting it. Wide-eyed the man scurried from where he had fallen on the floor, swiftly unlocking the door and exiting the room.

“You sure he won’t be causing any trouble?”

“Positive.”

-----------
Raising her hand, she knocked on the door twice, pulling her hand down as her brother opened the door swiftly, motioning her in as if he had been waiting for her for hours.

“Come, come in Sister! I have been speaking with our cousin, as well as with my wife who I can assure you is not anywhere to be seen for the time being.” He motioned her down the hallway a bit, and into a spacious room, an ornately carved table running down the middle, her cousin sitting at one of the many chairs running along the far side. Her caramel coloured hair fell down around her, a tome open on the table before her.

Sitting down across from her cousin, Lyrilia raised her eyebrow at a stack of papers peeping out from under the tome. Her Cousin’s head snapped up swiftly as Alarius sat down next to her, closing the tome and turning the papers over on the table.

“Lyrilia, so nice to see you, and so nice of you to send my dress back in a timely manner. I am so sorry we could not respond to your letters in a matter much the same.” She smiled sweetly, her eyes sparkling just the way they always did when she was up to something.

“Quelisa, Alarius.” She offered each of them a curt nod before pointing to the papers on the table. “You’ve obviously been doing something, and have called me for a reason although using Calithara to get me here was a low move. Let’s get down to it shall we?”
The other elves nodded in agreement, Alarius rising to close the door, Quelisa shuffling the papers as the door shut with a click…


((2/2 or 3...hmmm))

I don't remember how I got back, I just know that I did. I do remember one thing though - never wash a severe wound out with saltwater, never, ever...suffice to say I'm learning.

There was hell to pay when I limped into the inn, and fell on the floor groaning. Kiki picked me up (I never realized just how strong she was) and she placed me in my bed. Her chatter was lost to me as I faded in and out of consciousness, and finally fell into a fitfull sleep.

It was late in the night, I don't know what it was but I awoke immediately. As a shadow broke away from the wall.

"Hey, Cyaer," came a dark whisper from the past, "the boss' got a job fer you ta do, and he ain't taken no for an answer either." The shadow moved close to my bed and sat on the edge of it.

"I'm not interested in what Korakk wants, I'm retired from that way of life, Shizzatt, and yes, you can remind him of that." My voice was calm, as I slipped a sharp dagger from beneath my pillow, and held it by my side, out of his sight.

The goblin grinned and even in this dark I could see the rows of his teeth as he giggled. (Yeah, giggled, I know, right?) "Korakk not goin' to be likin' that answer, Cyaer. He told me to let you know that this panda be special to ya. Shame if'n sumthin should like happen to her, eh?" Then that cold, heartless giggle.

"Shizzatt, I like you, I'm going to kill you last. You tell that piece of...I'll be there. Now get out of my house, I hate filthy fleabitten vermin dirtying my doorstep." I kept my voice low and cold, ice cold.

"Yeah, sure, Cyaer...I'll tell him good. And Cyaer...I ain't never killed me a panda yet" The last of his words said as he giggled and lept out of the inn. I could still hear his insane giggle fade as he made his way to the portal.

I lept from the bed, and sought out Kiki's bed. I stood over her, as she snored softly into her pillow, sound asleep. I fell to my knees out of relief, and watched her sleep.

Korakk made a big mistake, and threatening my friends was the chief one, but he came into my home, with a goblin for Fel's sake. They would pay, and pay dearly...both or all of them.

"No! I don't believe it! you have no proof!" The warrior, stormed out of the room, the heavy wooden door slamming shut behind her. She had seen her journal in the room with them, her comments on it being there having been swiftly ignored. But that's not what had made her angry.

"Actually...we-"

"No. I don't want to hear it! It's impossible, and there is nothing you can say or do to change my mind." She spun to face the other two elves, jabbing her finger at the mage in anger, her eyes flashing.

"But Ly, if you would just let our cousin show y-"

"I don't care! You know how I feel about this issue! You, of all people should know, being my own brother and his best friend. I'm sure hes shared ample information with you as well!" She spat, brushing a lock of blonde hair behind her ear.

"But, we just wanted you to kn-"

"I don't NEED to know, nor do I WANT to! Because I don't believe you. The letter came in the mail, they said they saw...." Her voice cracked, her resolve faltering.

"Yes, they -saw-. They don't have any concrete evidence as to exactly what happened." He crossed his arms, trying to hide a smirk.

"We care about you, Lyrilia. We just want you to know if he is, just so you can prepare yourself..." The mage trailed off, shooting the paladin a warning glare.

"For what? For nothing, that's what! You have no proof, I refuse to believe it,there is no possible way. NONE!" She spun around to face the front double doors, freezing with her hand on the doorknob.

"Lyrilia, we have something very important to show you, but we all know about your temper....." The warrior's scowl darkened at her words. "....So, when you're ready to come back and see it, we'll show you. Good day, cousin." She turned back down the hall, her caramel coloured hair hanging loose around her shoulders, her mage robes swishing around her ankles as she walked. "Come with me Alarius, we have much to discuss."

"I won't be coming back any time soon, I can assure you of that!" She turned the knob, throwing the door open and slamming it loudly shut behind her. Brushing her hair into place, she set down the road towards Silvermoon.

----------

"Oh don't worry, She'll be back. We still have her journal, and that little communications stone of hers. She'll want at least one of them back." A sly grin spread across the mage's face, her hands running along the fine leather of the journal.

The woman with the brown hair stepped away from the flight master. She was one of several visitors to Hearthglen that day. Paladins went about the courtyard. Some were milling about, off duty and curious to the stream of visitors that were arriving, others were working. More than a few were trainees waiting for loved ones and friends who were scheduled to visit that day.

She looked around for her husband’s face, but didn’t see him. She moved out of the way of the rest of the arriving visitors, nervously pushing a strand of her loose hair back behind her ear as she considered who would be the best person to ask where to find Sol.

Someone stepped up behind her, the distinctive clink of plate armor reaching her ears. A pair of hands covered her eyes and she breathed out a sigh of relief, even as her face lit up in a smile.

“Sol!” she whirled around and looked up at her husband as he grinned down at her. He scooped her up and twirled her around before setting her down and giving her a lingering kiss.

“I missed you.” This was said simultaneously.

He took her to meet several new friends before leading her to a secluded spot where they would spend most of the day. Saying good bye as the sun went down was hard but entering their house in Hillsbrad alone was even harder.

‘Just a few more weeks,’ she thought as she pulled out his shirt from the armoire and pulled it over her head before climbing into the empty bed. She pulled out the old volume of short mystery stories that he had found for her—the series from which she had chosen the name, ‘Auxilia’—and read until she fell asleep.

Alenthis Bloodreaver was in a considerably better mood than usual. He had a chance to help Lyrilia. A real chance. He grinned happily as he made his way through SIlvermoon city on his way to Azurick's apartment. Silvermoon was crowded. The Sunreavers, recently banished from Dalaran were returning to Silvermoon. And preparing for war. Azurick passed by several of the magi but paid them no mind. His mind was focused on Lyrilia.

Alenthis didn't need to knock on Azurick's door. It was wide open, as Sunreavers and Blood guards walked to and fro in the building, moving furtniture and carrying magical artifacts from room to room. Alenthis leaned in and spotted Azurick, chatting with a senior mage. He waited for their conversation to end and then approached quietly. "Azurick. I need your help."

After several minutes of explanation, Azurick was onboard. "Alenthis, I'll do you one better. I can get you two monitoring devices." Azurick rummaged through his backpack. He pulled out a small green stone. "This will watch whatever you point it at and store it in its memories for me to recall later. If you can catch her sister-in-law in the act, I can get you an image of it." He nodded curtly. "And I can ALSO get you a goblin image capture'er. I'll need some time to fetch that though. I'll need to speak with a contact of mine."

Alenthis nodded happily. "Just get it to me or Lyrilia and we'll do the rest." Azurick grinned at him. "I'll do it. Now get back to work, Ambassador Bloodreaver." Alenthis nodded and exited the room. Azurick frowned. A Goblin image capture'er. He'd have to speak with Axavier about this. And he hated Axavier. Azurick sigh'ed and clamored to his feet, heading for the door...

The paladin stalked her prey with a slow, measured tread. She knew what she was doing, she had done this sort of thing a multitude of times before. The Amani ruins were still, quiet, even the birds had fallen silent, and that alone unnerved Kel'tira Sunblaze. The animals were never this quiet.

She shook the unease off and continued her careful pacing through the ruins, searching for the Troll she was after.

Cyaer, she realized belatedly, might take issue with her pass-time, but she had signed up for this, so she would indeed see it through. She also, considered for a moment, the mage she had left a note for, realized that Ash too, would be after her head if word of this got out. So, she resolved, it wouldn't.

An instant too late, she sidestepped the fist that swung from behind her, the blow catching her glancingly on the plate she wore. Bones cracked, and they were not hers. The Troll that attacked her died beneath her sword, and underneath the helmet she wore, Kel's face was set grimly.

She dragged the body into the shadows, and continued her hunt, two more scouts died as swiftly as the first before she reached an annexed chamber that held firelight and a larger Troll. She paused, momentarily, to simply gauge her abilities, and then nodded, satisfied, and set her stance, leaping into the firelight, only to find herself thrown back by some force that clutched at her neck, threatening to choke her.

Unholy magic fought the bright Light as Kel threw her power out, struggling to push back the death knight's power. Barely, she succeeds, the Troll clearly more powerful than she had planned or expected.

Or, she thought from a dim corner of her mind, someone was setting her up for failure. Maybe Gear had been right; she mused, ducking and lashing out with her sword, scoring a shallow slash down the Troll's side; she should have just sat on her hands, instead.

In another lapse of attention, the Troll scored a double-handed strike that Kel failed to sidestep completely. The blade cut through the heavy plate that the paladin wore, the force sending her to her knees. The tip of the runeblade cut into her flesh, and Kel, too proud to scream, didn't. She gasped a curse, and struggled to her feet, her face, if any could see it, her face was bone white, her mouth set in a thin line, blood trickling down her chin where she had bitten through her lip.

The death knight thought he had her, he stopped, turning to watch the fires burning behind him, calling on some mojo spirit to take her soul. It was then, that she staggered the steps required to dig her blade into his hip, severing the artery there.

Dimly, as she sank to the ground, she fumbled out her guild stone, mumbling the name of the one man she knew was listening at the time.

"Alenthis..."

The warrior knocked impatiently on the heavy wooden double doors, her annoyance mounting with each minute that went by. Finally, the large doors swung open, a tall blood elven woman with short black hair standing on the other side.

"Lyrilia. We weren't expecting you to be back so soon."

"Where is it, Vora?" Her face had twisted into a hate-filled glare.

" And why would I know something like that? What are you even talking about, dearie?" smirk spread across Vora's face.

"Where. Is. My. Journal." She crossed her arms, toying with one of the swords she had brought, the freshly sharpened blade glistening in the sun.

"Alarius, love, where is your sisters journal?" She rolled her eyes at the weapon, a wicked grin spreading across her face as she called into the house. A faint voice replied, and she sighed, turning to glare straight at Lyrilia. "Its in the conference room, sister dearest..." Her voice was laced with venom. "Don't go ruining anything in -my- house, and you know who you have been forbbiden from speaking too." A smirk spread across her face once more as ahe stepped away from the door, dissapearing into the house.

Lyrilia walked in with an angry huff, glaring after Vora and muttering a string of curses at her as she slammed the door loudly behind her. Stomping loudly through the house she noted the unusual dimness of the halls, and quiet of the house...something was definately up.

She threw the door of the conference room noisily open, her eye quickly finding the bright red leather of the journal, despite the dim lighting of the room. Leaning over to scoop her journal up from the middle of the large,wooden conference table, the door closed noisily from behind her, clicking locked as she spun around.

"Now Lyrilia, don't be alarmed, we don't wish to hurt you. Just place your weapons and bags in the corner and then have a seat. Your brother and I have something important to bring to your attention, and you will not stop us this time." The sound of Quelisa's voice echoed through the large room, Alarius standing quietly behind her, a large stack of papers clutched in his hands.

"Well? SIT!"

Kreindis' spirit stared at the darkness swirling around him. He didn't know what it meant, and part of him didn't want to know. It closed in on him every second he stood imprisoned by the shadows.

Eventually, the shadows touched him, and he watched as his transparent blueness changed to a greenish, pale skin color similar to the Wretched's. His black hair fell down his neck again.

And then, darkness, coldness, and the feeling of his skin on a nearly frozen floor.

Kreindis looked around, not remembering how he had gotten on the cold floor, or even who he was. "What...?" He stood up and realized he wore nothing but a thin shirt, and he quickly dove for a hiding spot.

Though, he didn't know why, nobody was to be seen, just a few dusty footprints. He looked around quickly before noticing a suit of armor. He grabbed it and put it on. A hood was attached to the chestplate, and Kreindis pulled it tight over his head.

He noticed a piece where the armor seemed to fall back further. He removed the armor plate and saw a hole in his chest. He moved a finger inside the large hole, experimentally.

He looked up as he heard a voice. "Dont put your finger too far in there. You'll hurt yourself... not like I care."

The voice came from a pale female Blood Elf with armor, a ghoul following her, and Death Knight eyes.

"My name is Sarythe."

[1/2]

Lyrilia sat in the room, the candles flickering slowly out, and room empty. Her head rested on the large, wooden conference table, a pile of tattered letters in her hand. Her brother and Cousin had been gone from the room for some time, the smiles on their faces evident as they left. They had loved her reaction, and were now busy having something to drink upstairs with Alarius’ wife.

Angry, she tossed the letters down onto the table; watching them flutter down, landing upright on the carved surface. Planting her face down into her arms again, she sighed, unsure of how to feel. The letters were ripped slightly on the sides, the writing not that of her brothers, her cousins, or her own, but that of someone else.

Her brother had hid these letters from her, and now he chose to pull them out. For every letter he had given her today, he had read two, even three of the unfinished version. Those letters he had kept himself. What was the purpose of this? She did not know… for her thoughts ran wild in her brain, quickly turning into a tangled mess.

What if he is still alive? Is he still alive? Will he find me? Do I want him to?

She slammed her fist into the desk, brushing the letters off of it angrily. Tears streamed down her face as she watched them scatter across the ground. She saw hurt in her brother’s eyes today, in her cousins. She felt the pain infused into those half-finished letters her brother had read to her…a few words she thought she could take away the next day, those words who nearly drove someone to suicide….She had thought him dead for so long, and now he was coming back. They had been best friends for the longest time, she had known him since they were both so so young, and she had grown to love him, and he had loved her; it seems, just as much, maybe even more. No. She had loved him just as much as he had. When his first death had passed...it was devastating.

The warrior closed her eyes, tears streaming down her face. The events replayed in her head, the sound of her brother’s voice, speaking what were clearly Salethorian’s words. The black box…the ring. Her brother had been holding it for him until he returned. A ring meant for her the letter sent with it made sure we all knew that. Her thoughts ran faster through her mind...he was returning. He was Alive. And he still loved her. But she loved Alen, right?

Then why did she feel these things she was feeling? Why was she questioning this? Why did she want Salethorian to return? Why was all this making her feel this way? Why was her family doing this to her? Why did she care so much about Salethorian? Why, why, why?

Leaning over, she pulled her journal out from the bag by her feet. Pulling the quill with a bottle of ink out as well, she opened it to a fresh page.

Too much has happened today, my mind races with too many thoughts, too many feeling. I don’t know how to sort them out…I don’t know what to do. Dare I risk hurting someone again? Why do I have to question things so much…? I hate my brother and cousin for this; I try to push their words away, to not let it affect me. Yet the words creep back into my mind, the thoughts and the feelings. They knew what they were doing, and I believe I know why.

I can swear to myself as many times as I want, that I won’t let their goals be achieved. But I know they will…the thoughts they placed in my head remain there, they pester me and make me think about what I might do.

She paused, lifting her quill from the page. Staring at one of the flickering candles, she thought. Shaking her head, and taking a deep breath, she pressed her quill to the page.

But I know what I will do…I have a letter to write, no. I will use the guildstone. I must speak with Alen tomorrow. I have decided this now, and I am sure my decision will remain the same in the morning.

But do I really want this to happen? Do I really want to do this? Is hurting one to save the other really worth it? What am I thinking, and why do I think this? Will I be able to fix anything if I make a mistake? My brother knows how I think, and my cousin is very smart. They have done well and I have fallen into their trap. Will I let them have the satisfaction of it working? I do not know…

My thoughts run wildly and I cannot make a decision now but I must decide quickly…I will decide in the morning.

A young elven girl opened the door; her long blonde hair fell in curls around her face, her hair just a shade darker than Lyrilia’s own. The warrior turned around swiftly at the sound of the door, a smile breaking across her face as she saw the girl.

I hold her close, my arms wrapped about her to protect and to press her close. Though, she snuggles against me, her cheek on my chest, her ears hearing my heart beat. She has thrown a leg over me, and cannot seem to any closer, and I smile as she gently snores in her rest.

I lay here, quietly kissing the top of her head, and stroking her hair softly. She rests quietly now...but the nightmares may return. Nightmares of her uncle, of my father, and those unspeakable things he did to her. And I hold her closer, and calm her by whispering that I am here. I whisper I love you...and tears find their way to my tired eyes.

I curse his evilness, and what he has done to Kel'tira. I let the tears flow, and run down my face.

I feel her lips softly kissing my chest, and I see she does it in her sleep. And I wonder...is it I she dreams of or Nicias? And I wonder if I should care. For it is I that lays here, me she clings to, and my lips she seeks, whether asleep or awake. I can be content with that. Knowing she loves me, and cares about me. Deeply. Just as I do her.

...she knows me too well, just as I know her, and we worry about one another...she is my friend, and my lover. And we try to keep secrets from one another...and it only brings deeper worries when one of us is hurt, or as today, we are both hurt.

Oh, Kel'tira, what am I ever going to do with you? Love you, care for you, and be there for you when you need me...always.

Kreindis stared at the Death Knight before asking, "Where am I? And furthermore, WHO am I? All I remember is the name and appearance of a woman..." Sarythe replied, "One thing at a time, Kreindis. You are at Acherus, The Ebon Hold. You were raised as a Death Knight. Your body was found in Icecrown with your heart cut out, and some kind of crushed stone, and we found this in your bag."

Sarythe tossed an ice blue journal to him, and he caught it in one hand. "I believe its yours. Read it." And then she left him.

He began to skim over pages, but didnt gain much from it. Many pages were missing or severely torn. He saw the name of the woman he remembered, but didnt know who she was still.

He hoped to find out eventually.

Lyrilia awakened slowly, sunlight streaming in from the window, and falling across the bed. Small particles of dust floated in the rays, the bed lavishly covered in an assortment of pillows and covers.

This was not her room. Where was she?

Jumping with a start she pulled the covers closer around her, catching sight of a small girl at the half-open door. Calithara. She was at her brother’s house. Relaxing, she threw the covers aside, offering the small girl a smile. The girl grinned in return, running to jump on the bed, her blonde curls bouncing.

“Auntie, you've been sleeping a long time. It’s almost noon. Father said you fell asleep at the conference table soon after I left. Mother was very angry I was talking with you, she doesn't like you, you know. She say’s you’re a bad influence running around with that death knight, but if you love him Auntie he must be a nice o- oh! What’s that!?” The girl jumped from the bed, fingering the Red leather journal beside the bed.

“Is this yours Auntie? It’s very pretty; I want to have one just like it when I’m older, just like you. I want to be like you Auntie, Mother’s terribly boring for a grown-up. I don’t want to be the Lady of a house, I want to be a warrior like you, and go on adventures! I’ll have a Death Knight too; just like you….what’s his name? Alenthis I think Father said. Well mine won’t have the same name obviously, but it will be similar, ‘cause I’ll be just like y- Mother’s calling!” She bounced out of the room and down the hallway, leaving a smile on Lyrilia’s face.

Rising from the bed, she gathered her things, the smile fading from her face. She had slept well, and now she must decide….but she already knew what she should do. Shoving her things into her bag, she smoothed her skirt, wrinkled from sleeping. Yawning, she looked out the window; her cousin was having something to eat outside with her brother. She was instantly hungry.

Small, hurried footsteps sounded down the hallway, Calithara bursting into the room.

“Aunt Lyrilia? Are you leaving? Mother made you some food.” The young elf was out of breath from running through the house. A smile broke across her face. “Are you going to see your Death Knight? When can I meet him?”

Lyrilia nodded, throwing her pack across her shoulder and slipping into her shoes. “Yes, I shall be looking for him…” She frowned. “As to when you will meet him, I don’t know Cali, I don’t know.”

“I want to meet him soon! But I have to go down to eat or mother will be mad…she said she wants to talk to you before you leave though. She took my stone away.” The little girl’s face fell, her eyes sad as she turned to walk slowly down the hall.

Perhaps she’d go see what Vora wanted, before she went to go find Alen.

Alenthis strode throught the Undercity, en route to the Translocation Orb to Silvermoon. He was so excited he could barely speak. Azurick had told him that he'd given Lyrilia the goblin image capture'er and Alenthis had the arcane recorder with him. He was on his way to find Lyrilia. Finally he could help her with her dreadful family. He smiled warmly as he pressed his hand on the translocation orb.

The studio was empty and quiet. A blank page was set on the easel waiting for the artist's hand to bring life to it. A variety of pencils, and charcoal pieces set on a small table beside the easel, they too waited to be brought into use and create another fitting piece of art. But there would be no artist to employ any of them this night.

The barracks were quiet too. A few of the blood knights slept on their bunks, and another sat on a bench, reading a book. There was no paladin with his copper hair wandering the halls, or changing out the linens. He had not been seen for several days in Silvermoon City.

Early dawn, and a young Sin'dorei paladin had been to the children's ward of the hospital. He spread good cheer, and handed out small dolls and paper swords to the girls and boys forced to stay away from home for Winter's Veil. He even had small apples, and nuts to give each child.

The afternoon found the same paladin working hard to provide hot meals of hams and roasts donated from a mysterious benefactor. His smile was infectious, and he spoke in a pleasant manner to all he came in contact with.

It was evening, and the red-haired paladin was enjoying his last stop of the day. The toys and fruit he had dropped off on his way to the hospital were well received by the children of the orphanage. As were the large hams and the big turkey he gave the matron for the festival dinner. Now, he just enjoyed the evening, being with the children and telling tales of old, and of knights and fair maidens, of dragons and treasures.

He rested a moment, and went back into the rows of bunks and small beds, and he heard the gentle sniffling, and sobs of someone in distress. And he came upon a small blood elf girl who could not have been more than ten years old, crying into her pillow, clinging to a battered old teddy bear. He moved to sit beside her, and set her on his lap. The tears continued to fall, and he held her close and shushed her, and tried to comfort her. Eventually, the tears stopped, and the sobs ceased, and he held the little girl in his arms, humming an old lullabye. She was sound asleep, and as he hummed he leaned against the wall of the bed.

The matron found them there together, the tall paladin asleep against the wall, and the little girl snuggled up close to him. The matron placed a blanket over both of them, and walked away, grateful for a man such as this in a world such as it was.

The young rogue looked out over the plains spread out before him, the stars thick in the sky, and a full moon hanging low on the horizon. He watched as he saw small flashes of light and fire over a rise more than a few miles away. And he bowed his head.

He prayed for those who fought in that confrontation, and in other places on Azeroth. Those that fought for the Horde, for their people, and for their families. He prayed for those who had gone on, and had perished in the wars that continued around this place called Azeroth. He prayed for their families who would be without mothers, fathers, sister, and brothers, nor uncles and aunts this Winter Veil.

His face was wet with tears, as he looked out over the plains spread out before him. And the rogue sighed, and wondered when it would end - the wars, the confrontations, the death - and when would peace finally reign.

He turned from the window to look upon the beautiful young Sin'dorei woman that slept peacefully on the bed. He smiled as he thought of her. And he bowed his head once more, praying to the light softly into the night.

"Light guide us on our paths we have chosen. And illuminate our minds to grow in wisdom. Light bless this holy warrior of the light. Bring her peace of mind and heart. And hold her close to your ways and tenets. Light thank you for the blessing I have found in following your ways. I am but a humble rogue, but I see a bigger picture and my place in it now. Guide me. And aid me in helping her to find peace of mind and heart."

As he slid into the bed, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her softly on the shoulder. She rolled over, and she snuggled up against him, sounds of contentment came from her as he held her close to him. And he smiled into the dark, and tears of joy wet his cheeks.

From the pages of my journal:

I searched and hunted for over a week, and finally, when my hope was just about gone to having it before the end of Winter's Veil. I found one. And I gave it to her. The fox kit has been a little charmer, and a distraction for Kel. It likes to chew anything, and it likes to get into everything too. And his name is "Terrence", I'm partial to "Trouble" (but that's all together a different subject).

I have reached my full potential as a rogue, or at least that's what my trainer told me. Somehow, that doesn't seem or sound right. It was only a few long months ago that I was tackling my first job, wasn't it? How the time has flown by. I still have goals I want attain, places I want to experience, and places I need to fish.

And I have found someone that allows me to love her, and love her well. I mean, without reservation, just me being me...

(I won't say that I don't think about his return, because I do. I think about his returning, and letting go of her for him. And it's not really for him, but for her. And I don't let it stop me from giving my all in loving her.)

...because when it comes right down to it, I won't hesitate in showing her how much I have come to respect her, care about her, and love and desire her. I have come to know her a little bit more each day, each time I am with her, and I like what I am finding so far. More and more.

The nightmares concern me as to what they are founded on, and what they contain. She twists and turns in her sleep, and she whimpers, and cries out in the midst of these nightmares. I hold her, and I talk to her in a calming voice, and sometimes she hears me, for she relaxes and goes back to a normal sleep cycle.

Other times, the nightmares hold on to her, and refuse to let her go. And these are the times I fear for her, as the anguish in her cries, and moans tear at my heart, being unable to aid her, and can only hold her, and cry over her.

She told me not to cry over her once. Why? Why does she ask me or tell me to do that? Or rather not to do that? Doesn't she know it's because I care, that I worry for her, and that she's worth my tears? Just as my kisses are important, and my caresses are necessary, so do my tears mean much in our relationship. Sometimes I don't know her at all.

Kel'tira Sunblaze

I am not altogether sure who or what I have become in the past weeks. My mind is in turmoil, and my heart is equally confused.

There are things I remember, and am glad for, and yet there are also things I remember and wish I could forget. There are things I have forgotten, and wish I could remember, and there are those incidents I have forgotten and am glad to no longer remember clearly.

Nic... Nicias Sunblaze. He will always have a special place in my heart. I do not want to move on. I remember days we spent together, nights, too. I remember the feel of his skin against mine, his hands on me, and his lips on mine, and it hurts. It hurts oh so much to have to remember, and yet, part of that pain is who I am. I miss him... I miss him more than anyone can know. It would be so much easier if I knew what had happened to him, if I could hate him for leaving me, or grieve if he were dead, but I cannot. I cannot. I do not know what happened to him, I do not know where he is, but Light knows I do remember, and I pray, and I miss him with every fiber of my being.

The day he proposed to me, in the inn, it felt so right, to hear him say those words, and for my response to be "yes." I never questioned why it felt so good to be close to him, I never questioned why he was determined to go off and fight his wars, because I understood. I had been fighting for my people, too.

I will never forget the first time he kissed me, as we stood in the Hall of Respite, after my stuttered explanation of what I thought of him. I will never forget how gentle he can be, and at times how fiercely protective he is. I will always remember him as the man who held me close when I cried, who fell asleep on my lap on day, the man who held my hand as we spoke our vows. He will always be the man who showed me what it was like to love, really love.

I will always remember our week in Azshara after we were married, and every time I look at Septimus, I think of Nic. I will never forget that vacation in Feralas, the warm days and cool nights that we spent together.

The last time he kissed me... that kiss good bye in Feralas, all of the passion and hope and love we had for each other.

He will always be my Nic, my husband, my lover. Nothing will change that. If I have to live with the question of what happened for the rest of my life, so be it, I will.

(A carefully finished portrait of Nicias is tucked neatly between the pages, he is smiling, his hair glinting in sunlight, and he looks entirely at ease and relaxed, his eyes bright and warm, his fingers all intact, and his wedding band glinting on his hand)

I will always remember the Fellowship, as well, even if I wonder sometimes if we are falling apart and away from each other. I will always remember the one meeting we held in the Hall of Blood, and that sense of wholeness that the entire guild had, something I have not seen again in recent months.

I will always remember the Fellowship, and as I remember them, I know I will remember Nicias as another person, not just my lover and husband, just as I will always remember Cyaer as someone other than my lover, for that is what he is, and Aseria as something other than a confusion.

I will always think of Kara, and of Tyrael, and of Mia when I think of the Fellowship. I will remember Kara's ideals, her passionate defense of her people, and her careful love of everything. Tyrael's fiery stubbornness that arose from his joy of the fight, and annoyance at us, as he strove to protect us and we, or I, upended his plans. Mia's gentle care for us all, and her hope and love that she seemed to emanate at times.

And then Cyaer... My cousin, and now something more. Something that if I think about too hard, is altogether wrong, but I cannot bring myself to care. I don't want to think too hard about that, nor do I have any desire to think too hard about Aseria and I.

But I cannot help but think that maybe Auxilia is right. Maybe I should see someone about my nightmares. Maybe I should find someone to talk to.

What were her words? "Someone not connected to that entire terrible week."

Alenthis sat in his chair, facing the wall. He hadn't blinked in several hours and his dead eyes had dried to redness. Even though he sat silently, his mind raced.

'I'm sorry Alen.' Is what she had said. She's sorry. She's so so sorry. This last month. Meant nothing...my love...meant nothing. Her family...her dead lover. Alive? What was I to her? A tool. Something to lean on.

Alenthis lips twisted into a grin. But why did I even think for a moment that I could be a lover. A husband. Anything. I'm a monster. A broken killing machine...designed by The Lich King. I was made to kill. And obviously I cant do anything else right... Alenthis blinked. His eyes snapped shut with an almost audible click. He stood from the chair and dressed quickly. He eyed his ambassador tabard. "Peace. What a laughable thought." He stepped on the tabard on the way out the door. Several hours later, Alenthis was in Orgrimmar signing up for the campaign in Pandaria. If he could not find a life as a peaceful man...then he'd find one in war.