Alora dismounted her steed as she saw the body just off the road. She let the reigns drop, knowing that her horse wouldn't wander far. The stallion snorted and bobbed his head, stepping nervously to the side.

She ignored him and took another look at the body. It was a human male. Was he alive? She could find out only one way. Being a priestess, there was no question what her duty was. She had to heal him. As she got closer and a better look, she saw stab wounds in the man's back and side. He was bleeding profusely, but was still alive, as she could see a staggering rise and fall to his chest.

Alora stepped closer and suddenly a quick pain at the base of her neck stunned her. She felt her strength sapped from her momentarily. A daze filled her head and she could barely pay attention to the world around her. She didn't quite lose consciousness, but neither did she seem to be able to control her limbs. A minute later, her senses began to return to her and she could move once more.

What had happened? Alora rubbed the back of her neck and glanced around, but saw nothing. Now feeling a little more cautious, she turned her attention back to the dying man and remembered her duty. She needed to help him, whoever he was. There was no one else around and she couldn't wait for someone to come riding along to help her. Nor could she leave him to die.

She stepped forward again, only to be stopped once more. This time, as she waited for the sapped feeling to leave her, she finally began to realize that someone was there. Someone was preventing her from helping the man. Perhaps the one who had inflicted the injuries? Her heart began to pound. She was a healer, not a fighter. How could she defend herself?

Just as she was coming out of the sap, a whisper of a breath grazed the back of her neck. Goose bumps grew from that spot and quickly spread all over her torso as her heart jumped to her throat. The whisper said one word to her. "Don't."

As she regained control of herself once more, she turned around to see who had spoken. Nothing. No one was there. She glanced back at the man. If she didn't help him soon, he would die! But someone wasn't letting her. The attacker?

Alora realized that her breathing was erratic as her fears were slowly consuming her. With a quick intake of a deep breath, she let it out slowly, trying hard to regain control of herself. Her throat was dry and she had to swallow before speaking to the air. "Please let me help him. He's dying." She paused, looking all around, but saw and heard nothing.

Maybe her plea was heard, she told herself. Maybe whoever it was will let her help him now. She faced the body again and took a cautious step towards him.

Something sharp pressed against her neck and she froze, her eyes widening in shock. She could feel the warmth of a body against her back and a strong arm wrap around her, locking her arms to her side. She could feel his breath on her neck as he whispered once more. "I warned you."

She didn't struggle. It was pointless. The only part of her moving was her heart. Surely he could feel it pounding against her chest. She waited. But he did nothing. He just held her there. Was he going to kill her now? Why was he just holding her there? "Let me go ...please?"

There was no response. No answer. No movement. He had spoken common before, so he had to have understood her. She could only stand there and watch the life of the man on the ground slowly ebb out of him. She couldn't stand it. She became a healer to help others, not to watch them die. It was now that she began to feel the strength and courage to struggle. The arm tightened it's grip. Alora gasped as tears fell from her eyes. "If you won't let me heal him, then please don't make me watch him die!"

It felt like an eternity, though it was probably only a few seconds before her assailant finally responded in his whispery voice. "As you wish." He released her and for a split second, she naively thought she would be allowed to heal him. Instead, a pain exploded against her head and she fell into unconsciousness.

Author's Note:

This little diddy was inspired by a time I was leveling an alt priest in WoW. When she was still low level, in her 20's I believe, I had her in Darnassus running over the main bridge. That's when I saw a dead body lying there. I figured I'd be nice and rez the toon so they wouldn't have a long run back. Unfortunately, in my haste to be nice, I had forgotten that rezzing him would flag me for pvp. I was ever-so-subtly reminded of that fact when as soon as my spell was cast, my priestess was sapped by a top-level horde rogue (no idea which race). I could just imagine the person playing the rogue thinking, "Silly Priestess! See what happens when you get involved in something you have no business in?"

I have no idea if I will continue this after I finish my other story. But it was floating around in my head, preventing me from writing my other book. So, I wrote it down and figured I might as well share it. I hope you enjoyed it!