Luthaina dipped between the trees of the Hinterlands, running as swift as her elven legs could take her. Trees snapped back as she ducked and turned, high elves and even worse, Sunmane was after her and her disguise wasn't meant to last long. She had found the records of her family that she had come for and that was all that mattered.

Reaching the far stretches of the lake, she stilled.

'After her!'

Her crystal radiated as the last pulses of magic was being used, hiding her true identity for only a few minutes longer. She dove in to the freezing lake, reemerging on the far end and climbed into the canoe, hiding. It was not unlike her to avoid conflict at any cost. Her path in life to guard the life of her fellow solider, not take it.

What could have been hours was only minutes as she lay huddled, shivering to try and keep her warmth until Gurvir dove in the lake as well, coming up on the canoe, He had caught her.

"Get up!" He yelled at her, looking even riper for battle than she.

The priestess fumbled, pushing herself up, barely keeping her balance as she stood looking at him, the crystal radiating around her neck. 'You don't want to do this. Just let me go..."

He was insisted that she was the Sin'dorei priestess, now pulling a gun and pointing it at her. Just a few more moments. A few moments and he could know it was her.

'I am not the one you speak of...' She insisted, not ready to give up the disguise.

Just as she heard the gun click, she closed her eyes, having no time or distance to ward herself against any sort of attack. A loud explosion sounded but she felt nothing. A tip of the canoe and a great splash roused her back to opening her eyes and when she looked straight ahead, Gurvir was nowhere to be found.

A sinking feeling stilled her heart and a heaviness weighed in her stomach as she quickly tucked her head and extended her hands together, diving in after him; a cloud of dark blood making it quite easy to find him at the depths of the lake. Pulling her arms around his waist, she swam upwards, holding him tight.

With a heave, she pulled him up the bankment, tears welling in her eyes. It was her fault. She brushed debris away from his face, the fatal shot wound marring his once beautiful, elven face. His breathing was shallow and her healer's instincts told her that he was not long for this world. She pulled the crystal off, snapping the chain and immediately the last of her disguise faded away.

Shushing him, she could tell his dimmed, fel green eyes looked up at her and he struggled to speak, 'You didn't have to...lie..'

She closed her eyes, trying to hold back burning tears as they came, pouring down her cheeks, "Just save your breath for now, Gurvir..All in time. I will tell you all in time."

She looked down at him as his breathes came in short spurts, spasms of his chest gave way to less and and less movement. She cradled his head in her lap. She was supposed to save him from those that would use him. The alliance was not their people anymore and he would see it. She just needed time...She needed only a bit more time.

He looked up at her, shivering, "I'm cold. Don't leave me, Luthaina. Don't go." He coughed, his breath spasming, "My insignia...and my...tabard are...on..my..boat.." He struggled out, his voice cracking, 'I did it for..the..Alliance.."

As he spoke his final word, the world grew dark for Luthaina, as she struggled to quiet him clutching him as tightly as she could, "No..no not now! No..no no NO!" She moaned, squeezing him as tightly as she could and bent down, kissing his forehead, "It's me and I won't go. I won't ever go. Just stay with me. You'll come home. We'll go home.'

She kissed his mouth, feeling no more breath leave his body and there, with the moon shining down upon him, night owls hooting their mourning and the sound of the lake lapping at the shores edges, did Gurvir Sunmane die.

The priestess threw her head back, rocking back and forth as she held the limp paladin and howled a scream of mourning; a primal cry that quieted all, even the creatures around her into silent reverie for her.


It's strange how fast things can change. How a moment in time, a butterflies wings flutter, carrying the insect from flower to flower in search of substances and in another moment, it's life snatched; it's flame pinched before they could reach the height of their life.


She laid down next to him, kissing his cheek again, her face now almost as bloodied as his, shrapnel still partially lodged into what had been golden skin. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she simply laid there with him, sobbing as she shivered.

'But I loved you.' was all she could muster up the strength to say, holding what once was the living elf. She had tried to save him. Tried to make him see where he belonged and she would never get the time. He would never know.

Hours passed as she spent her last bit of time with the man she hated and the one she loved before pulling him into the lake with her, holding his head above water as if it mattered. She whispered the rites to an elven funeral for him and herself, walking out to where she could barely stand, keeping them both above the water. Her teeth chattered as she held him, "Just a bit more time.."

Before she closed her eyes to sink them both, a messenger bird swooped overhead, dropping a trinket that she caught, almost loosing it to the lake. It was a fist enclosing over a golden lightening bolt. She flipped over the trinket, blinking back tears so that she could read the inscription. 'May he be embraced into the arms of the light."

She considered the trinket and than back at him. 'Your name will live..I promise you."

She simply stood there in the lake, clutching the forever dead body for the rest of the night, not ready to give him up. She would send word to her brother in the morning, but for now, her loss was her own and they were not Alliance and not horde, but elves.

What is an ancient life if you live in regret...


Roughly seventeen years prior, when the elves were innocent in their calling and united under the banner of the Quel'dorei.


A human woman rushed about the small room atop a citadel. Arcane magic lit up the room in a soothing light as ice was busily being formed by two elven Magisters at the head of a small bed. Within, lay a pale elven woman panting and sweating; her face contorted and strained.

'It's almost time Lu.'

The woman nodded, bearing down as the magically made ice was brought over to cool her feverish head. She pulled the ruffled white sheets close to her in clenched fists as she cried out one last time; her face now bright red in her struggles.

And then, all was quiet save for the gentle cry of an infant.

'It's a girl!' cried the midwife, hurriedly wiping the babe clean and swaddling her in a fine linen blanket.

Luthaina looked towards the baby with tired eyes, reaching for the child with her arms outstretched. Her heart swelling with pride.

'Emberdawn..it's best you not do this..You remember the deal…Don't get attached child…Get your rest..'

Luthaina's eyes welled with tears immediately, pushing her legs over the side of the bed as best she could in her current state but collapsed to the floor. The magic she had accepted earlier aiding to numb her from the pains of birth still had not worn off.

'She is –my- daughter!'

The midwife took a few hurried steps back, clutching the baby as if Luthaina intended to harm her own offspring.

'Give me my daughter!' she yelled again, trying to push her wobbly legs up to stand.

A soothing magic washed over the priestess, dulling her senses until she could see no more.

Two magi approached the now subdued priestess and strained to pull her back onto the bed, tending to her physical needs while she could not fight them, Although weary to still be in the room, the midwife continued to rock the infant girl, smoothing her fine black hair with the back of her hand.

The baby girl became calm and looked up at her caretaker with her barely open eyes, sticking her tongue out to show her hunger.

'She looks like her father..' She spoke quietly, still gently comforting the babe.

One of the magi that aided in cleaning the unconscious priestess looked up with a stern look, 'She didn't want you talking about him when she came here and she won't want it now…The little girl will never know..!"

The midwife continued brushing her fine black hair with the back of her hand, smiling down as the little girl closed her pale aquamarine colored eyes, falling asleep as babies do.

'It's for the best, my child.'


Gurvir Sunmane flew backwards from the explosion, hitting the Quel'dorei canoe's front wall, crashing through it and landing back first into the water. He never thought pain like this even existed. The heated shrapnel from the flare gun piercing his face and blew apart his fingers, his super-heated armour crushing and even melting part of his flesh, and the wooden splinters stuck deep inside his very skull.

Red.

Red was all he could see now. His vision was pulsing it seemed, synchronizing with the beating of his heart...

It was beginning to slow.

He was suffocating from the waters choking embrace. He tried to move, trying desperately to defy death itself, but his nerves would not obey him. Suddenly, he heard the waters above him crash, a figure leaping into the waters for him...attempting to save him? Finish him? Gurvir tried to think, but the pain clouded everything.

Gurvir didn't realize it, but he was being tugged to a nearby boulder that surfaced over the water. As Gurvir was pulled out of the muddied depths of the lake and onto the large moss covered stone, he didn't gasp for air, nor did he get a chance to see who his "saviour" was. His eyes were open, but the blood, ash and even tears completely clouded his sight. He was blind. He could only hear.

And that was all he needed. He could hear crying, sobbing and could feel feminine hands touching his bloodied, ash stained face.

It was Luthaina Emberdawn. He knew it was. It had to be. Ironic, how the very person who he had so much affection for would be the one to cause his sudden demise. His breathing was beginning to slow, his heart was starting to shut down, and his soul was beginning to leave its mortal shell.

It shouldn't have had to end like this. Gurvir knew now, now he would never see what would become of his people, the Alliance. Would they manage to fight off the Horde and liberate Azeroth from it's treacherous, destructive and maniacal grasp? Or without Gurvir, would the Horde...finally...win? What would become of his people? Would the sons and daughters of the Alliance live an age of peace and prosperity, as Gurvir always had hoped for, after the Hordes demise? Or would they be crushed, enslaved or eradicated, as Gurvir always had dread, for the Hordes insidious conquest?

No...impossible! It couldn't be...

He was finished. He knew it. It was over for him and maybe...even his people...

...the Alliance.

With what strength he had left, he managed to move his lips...

"You didn't have to..l-lie.."

A response immediately echoed through his ears, it WAS Luthaina...

"Just save your breath for now, Gurvir...All in time. I will tell you all in time."

Time...something Gurvir knew he had little of. Something had to be done. His strength was dim, his hearing beginning to concede, he had to act.

"I'm...cold. D-don't leave...me, Luthaina...Please...don't go...", he choked out. His last breathes were in order now. Mere seconds left. "My insignia...and my...tabard are...on..my..boat.."

His final breath was expended...but Gurvir still had something to say. He had to say it. Everything he ever fought for, sacrificed for, lived for and now even died for manifested itself inside it. Pain, everywhere...His hearing was gone, his sight dead, and his brain shutting down. With whatever strength he could pull from the very depths of his heart, from his very SOUL, he screamed it out. Death had to wait. Just this once...for his people...

"FOR. THE. ALLIANCE!"

And with those final words, Gurvir Sunmane could see the Light before him...but the Light was not alone...

Sir Anduin Lothar, accompanied by King Llane Wrynn, Thoras Trollbane, King Terenas Menethil, Prince Arthas Menethil, and every single deceased Alliance hero Gurvir had ever known, heard about and revered was standing there, before him...the Light shining behind them. It was beautiful, Gurvir thought. Whether this was just a hallucination or the benefit of being dead, Gurvir didn't care.

With that last thought, the Lion of Azeroth moved forward and opened his hand for Gurvir...

And Gurvir... reached out with his own hand...and took hold.


The Lordaeron Lilly. Beautiful..delicate..but once plucked does it's fragrance die. Left alone, it would flourish but so easily trampled if left in the open.

The fragile Lordaeron Lilly.


Nighttime had fallen over Stormwind. People were relaxing and heading back to their homes to rest away for the evening until the morning sunlight brought them out once more. As usual, the familiar priestess sat on the bench in front of the fountain facing the Cathedral. Tonight, she was suited in her armor. The colors of her order faded, but still visible. She looked rough and fresh out of battle as the blood of her enemies were stained on her clothing.

Her blue eyes flickered around the square. Not a soul in sight save for a few faces she didn't care to know anymore. With a sigh, she felt compelled to look up. The skies were clearer tonight for some reason. It's not often she is looking up into them while in the city and for the first time in a long while, she saw the stars beaming behind the Cathedral.

The wind blew by. Kissing her cheek in its passing and making strands of her hair fall over her face, but her gaze was unbroken. There was something wrong and she felt it in the pit of her stomach. The stars provided no answers, but she continued to search for it anyways. Suddenly, his face came to mind.

An elven foe who loved to waltz into the Cathedral upon his bird like he was so welcomed. His smug smirked burned her bottom by just the thought of it. She always got a great rile out of watching him perish and lashing out at the sea of people who cried for him to be left alone. Those filthy traitors were tainted by Argent values in thinking -he- could be welcomed in -her- city.

Her eyes narrowed as it fixated on one star. One which gleamed brighter than those around it. Maybe it was her hatred of the elf making her focus so hard or perhaps now she was getting the answer she was searching for which made her stare. Regardless of the reason, she had lost herself in until the star fell.

Yes, the one she had focus on dropped from the heavens at an alarming rate. If she had blinked, it would have been gone in a split second, but she did not. Instead, she watched as the star went from being the brightest of them all to nothing more than part of the night sky, part of the darkness.

Part of the void.

The same wind came by and it was cold this time. Instead of kissing her cheek, it felt like needles to her flesh. Goosebumps had arisen as she felt like death was nearby, but she heard no one around her dying. It was such an odd feeling.

Bringing her head back down into reality, she looked to the stairs where the elven one liked to make his stay.

Something about it suddenly felt empty.

The sun had risen into the early morning sky. Rays of sunlight poured down upon the resting place of the paladin and his caretaker, Luthaina. Worse for the wear, she simply held on to him, waiting for the messenger pigeons to deliver their letters.

One letter was to notify Stormwind of Gurvir's death, another to notify the Argent Crusade and the final to alert her brother. She had not been ready to send word but couldn't afford not to. He had to be moved and quickly. There were those still that paid no mind to a woman in mourning and would see this is a change to attack sin'dorei for sport.

The flapping of great winged feathers sounded, a great shadow blocking out the bright sun from her view. It was then that the Kaldorei of the Crusade touched down. His regalia marking him to be the one she had summoned.

'You are here then to take him for me…'

She clutched his body tightly and when it was time to let him go, she bent down, whispering quietly in her native Thalassian, 'I'll be there soon….'

She released him to the night elf, backing away towards the forest. She would ride separately. Before she had made it far, she heard the night elf say, "It's what he would have wanted…"

She clenched her fists tightly, nails digging into the skin of her palm as she responded only to herself, "But he won't be here to see it…"

She took off into a sprint, eerily reminiscent of the previous night and immediately her mind clouded into memories from long before.

Gurvir stood in front of her. He was screaming something at her. Their voices were clouded. As if the memory was not fully revealing itself to her. They were in a dark tavern of sorts. His face seemed desperate, pleading, raw with anger and emotion. Her lucid form walked up to him and slapped him across the face. The memory left her with him throwing lilies of Lordaeron at her feet, stomping away.

A branch brought her back to reality as it snapped back, slicing her cheek open from a sharp thorn but she did not stop. She started to remember again his face in another memory.

He stared at her, bowing as if she were someone to be courted. She in turn bowed, beautiful, fitted robes flowing about her in a pale blue. She approached him with the kindest of smiles, laying a rosary around his neck that were made of lily petals, dried and rolled carefully into perfect beads once dried. In that one moment, she knew that she looked beautiful to him.

The smell of sea wafted through the trees as they separated allowing her more room to break off into a fast sprint, running from the thoughts that consumed her; begging her to stay back where Sunmane had fallen but she would not. She could not. His name had to continue and she would bring it honor. Even if he attained none for the sin'dorei, she would at least know herself that he loved his people; misguided as it may be.

She broke free of the forest, the sun burning her tear stained cheeks and her sensitive eyes. She could barely breathe and her lungs felt as if they would burst but she kept going, arriving at the cliffs over the sea. With a quick halt, she barely stayed on the edge, nearly toppling over as the ocean crashed against the rocks a long ways beneath her.

"You bastard!" She screamed, flinging her arms out in front of her, flailing for reasons unknown. Her mind reeled and her vision spinned as she crumpled in front of the cliff, drawing her knees up to her chest as she rocked back and forth, clinging to something that was already gone. The shore crashed beneath her, the sea beckoning its call to those that would dare come near to such a dangerous cliff.

"You were supposed to live! It was never supposed to be you!" She screamed, keeping her head in between her knees. With a swift motion she tore off the bangles with the inscription of Lordaeron from her wrist, "We were a people UNITED! Why would you leave us for them!" She clutched the bangles tightly before pitching them down towards the hungry sea, "And now your gone…" she choked out, still huddled in her self protective curl, not wanting to look up and face a new day. A new day where Luthaina Emberdawn would bury one of her own.


What is this thing we call life? To lose? To pass away without a whisper or blink of an eye. The sun will rise and a new day will come. At least we all suffer together.


Nearly an entire continent away...

The streets of Stormwind City were mostly quiet at night, with the exceptions of the various patrolling guards and the few civilians who decided to walk about after midnight. The calm atmosphere of Stormwind under the blackened sky was especially favoured by the nocturnal Night Elves, whom roamed the moonlit streets of the city, especially during this hour. The Cathedral district was the most quiet, with very few lights and flames still burning so late. But the peaceful silence of the Cathedral immediately shattered upon a nearby scream. A woman who was quickly aided by city guards, stood in awe at a fearful, terrifying sight.

A trio of orcs; a male, a female, and a child orc lay hanging off the Cathedrals main entrance suspended by large rope, blood dripping from their toes and onto the pristine cathedral carpet. Clothed in nothing but loin cloths, each orc's skin was pierced by multiple daggers, various lacerations and were missing several limbs, which had been cauterized it had seemed. The guards quickly inspected the orcs, releasing each from the ropes that crushed their throats and turning them over one by one. Several gasps were heard from the developing crowd. On the bloodied, singed orcs backs were the seals of Lordaeron, carved into the blackened green flesh of each.

The guards Captain had arrived and after investigating the scene, was greeted by a note stabbed into the place where the child orcs head had been. The Captain picked up the note, immediately crumpled it up and threw it to the ground. Visually disgusted, he walked off into the night with the other guards following suite, hauling away the bodies and dismissing civilians. One curious civilian immediately picked up the discarded message, and read it aloud.

"I AM GURVIR"


Lies and deceit; A life lost and a love never told. Hold your secrets close and do not let them go; lest someone steal them away from you.


The sun was beginning to set as the elven woman was carried between mountain passes by horseback. She had come across the horse while in the Hinterlands, and whether it had an unfortunate rider or not, she could not pass him up. Traveling to her homelands would prove daunting enough, let alone without a mount.

Her legs were growing stiff and achy with the strain of riding and her horse had slowed down to a trot. They both would need rest if she had hoped to make it with enough time to return to the paladin's resting place before his internment.

She gracefully dismounted the horse, letting him graze on a small patch of grass. There was not a lot of life within the diseased lands that once belonged to the kingdom of Lordaeron but even within such a grotesque landscape, there must always be a place of serenity. The white stone of the memorial came into view as she parted through new foliage. Stone pillars upholding the serene resting place of one Uther the Lightbringer. A paladin she had only heard stories about.

She had barely made it within fifty feet of the tomb when she heard the telltale clomping of several riders on horseback. A shadowy grew as three dark riders came up the path and she thought to run; a sudden coldness about her, seizing her legs and rendering her incapable of movement.

The riders were all undead. Three forsaken dressed in heavy armaments riding with average gait atop skeletal warhorses. It was not long before they dismounted and not long after that, that they spoke of Gurvir Sunmane.

She looked visibly upset, her already stained face turning ashen as she took several steps back away from the forsaken that appeared to be the leader.

"Torture…what kind of monster are you?" She looked up at the forsaken leader, eyes questioning and full of anger. He had explained to her in the manner in which he had come across the information of Gurvir's death. They had tortured Argent paladins; neutral sources of defense against those undead that would still harm the living.

The man regarded Luthaina before continuing on his way towards the tomb, leaving her to shake in her rage. It was not a minute later that she found herself chasing after him,

"You're torturing of innocent neutral parties will not give you the information that you think you have now. Only I hold that and you will never know what happened to the paladin Sunmane."

The smug look on his face should have been warning enough to Luthaina to not press the matter but a priestess who had failed in her calling to preserve life, had already lost much. She would not lose her dignity and pride.

"You are a light worshipper yes?" He questioned, looking towards her with that awful smugness about him. He spoke towards his two companions that appeared from around the tomb at his side, "Come, soldiers. We have fabrications to make. Your superiors will hear of your treason. Looks like there will be an execution." He called out over his shoulder, the priestess already gone, fleeing towards her horse. Hopefully she would make it to Silvermoon before him.

First Sergeant Ournomas Sarain Renn, Magus Extraordinaire sat at his desk, using a single hand to lift his ebony book, only trimmed with a simple golden line around the edges- the title was irrelevant- and read. He'd received a letter earlier in the day- it was dusk now, and his elbow came to rest on the parcel.

Ournomas had forgotten about the letter for the time, having the option to do loathsome chores in his home or relax the day studying a nameless book. Perhaps a journal. The title was too faded to be read in any case. Nonetheless, he chose the latter. With a wave of the Magus' index finger, flame torched the letter's outer paper with precision, ice coating the important document inside. He lifted the letter to his verdant eyes and scanned it.

'To Whom It May Concern,

The world is at a loss tonight as we mourn the lossing of a great Paladin, a demented brother elf who has failed to see the ways of our people. Though, still kind-hearted, he fought valiantly for what he believed in,'

Ournomas scoffed, thinking to himself for a moment. Finally he was aware that the sun had set and his house was left an eerie darkness without candles to heat and light it. The only light source being a lantern in his study. The crickets chirped and the Hawkstriders cawed. The Dragonhawks screeched in the night, while wolves howled and mice chittered. All these were properties of the night Ournomas scarcely noticed. But tonight was special in an odd way. He continued reading.

'We mourn the loss of a life. We mourn Gurvir Sunmane. Killed with honor, killed with dignity. May he rest in peace, but never let death deter the glory, the light and the strength of the Sin'dorei!'

Ournomas had thought for a moment. "The woman, Luthaina, outside of the Plaguelands. Hm." He mused again, though he cursed the fact he had allowed her to pass. He sighed and spoke a word of spellspeech and a spark of flame slowly spread over the page, ash falling.

"A pity Gurvir couldn't live to be caught and tortured, the poor rat."

Ournomas took his index finger and middle finger and quenched the flame and for once, his estate, a medium sized home, was empty. Quiet.

Dark.


Roughly six months since the pardon of the priestess was issued, clearing her name amongst the sin'dorei.

Luthaina stood tall, eyes closed and breathing in the scent of the sea as it brought forth memories of old. A soft breeze blowing her blue black curls away from her face. The season had changed all around Azeroth save for where she now stood; the eternal spring of Quel'thalas.

Memories of years gone past played out like a scene from a play in her mind. Her skin prickled though the warm air did not warrant the change, visions of her younger self playing over and over.

To say it was raining was an understatement. It was pouring, rain beating the young elven woman as she ran towards a farmhouse somewhere in the fields of Lordaeron, a young male chasing her with golden blonde hair. They found freedom from the weather within, shutting the heavy wooden door behind them.

Luthaina shook her head, blinking past the memory that seemed so fresh that she swore she could smell the rain. Still though, the memories flood back, invading her mind and terrorizing her peace that she had fought so much for.

The young elven man with brilliant blue eyes came up behind the shaking woman. Her robes drenched to the very last stitch. He brushed her damp, frizzy curls aside, gently kissing the base of her neck and wrapped his arms around her tiny waist.

Her memories was disrupted and she swore that she could feel his breath at her back once again but it was only the wind...

'Luthaina...Luthaina Emberdawn?'

"Syr...I'll let you know when I'm ready. I have to do this, I have to avenge him. When you see the bright red flash burning in the sun setting skies, come to me as fast as you can, just like you did during the Cathedral brawl. Save me, as I saved you."

Vaeron Bloodmane stepped off the giant Darnassian hippogryph's saddle, and jumped into the shallow waters of the river. Signaling his winged ally to retreat, Vaeron began his long trek and walked onto the muddied shores leading to Sunstrider Isle, full of intention, determination…and rage.

While walking forward with conviction, Vaeron couldn't help but think of what he was about to do. He was going to beat the SI:7 to a mutual target, beat Stormwind's most elite assassins, rogues, detectives and infiltrators at their own game. Vaeron let out a slight laugh, before remembering why he was doing it in the first place.

Luthaina Emberdawn was the name of the SI:7's target, and the name of Gurvir Sunmane's murderer. But Vaeron didn't think of her as a common killer, he thought of her as evil incarnate, for Gurvir Sunmane…was Vaeron's "brother".

Recollecting his memories, Vaeron managed to remember how he met Gurvir while continuing on his trek, ever aware of any Sin'dorei roaches skittering in the shadows.

The rain, the tears of the sun, crashed down upon Lordaeron's war torn landscape. Several days after the Second War was over, the world was still mourning, still recovering, as were its native sons and daughters…the Alliance.

Vaeron kicked the door of the unfinished home in. The occupants, a woman and a child, hastily retreated into a corner for safety. Vaeron couldn't see them, nor did he care as he raided the tables, cupboards, and the drawers of the home for food and money before charging out the front door and meeting destiny.

A steel gauntlet tore through the air and struck him in the left cheek, hard. Before he could retaliate, the steel fist opened up and grasped Vaeron's head, crashing it into the ground. He was lying face down on the muddied grass, the rain hitting the back of his neck and the mud splashing into his face, before he looked up at his assailant. A knight stared down at him, the raindrops bouncing off his blue, gold and silver armour. Vaeron groaned, tried to reach out and grab onto the possessions he dropped before being struck. The knight sighed, removed and dropped his helm onto the softened earth, before finally speaking.

"Don't even bother. I don't want to fight you. Just tell me…why? Why a helpless widow and her fatherless daughter? Why did you have to attack those whom have lost so much already?"

Vaeron limply tried to stand up, looked into the eyes of the now helmetless knight. He was a High Elf, Vaeron thought, a smile hiding beneath his lips. The towering High Elf looked down upon Vaeron, sensing distress in the beaten elf's dimly lit blue eyes, he offered him his hand, smiling with benevolence.

"Come…get up."

Vaeron smiled, took hold of the stranger's hand, and was brought onto his feet once more.

"Who are you?" Vaeron asked, his speech a recovering the injury. "And how did you know I was here so fast?" The High Elf unintentionally cracked a smile, much to Vaeron's distaste.

"What's so funny?"

"We've been tracking your movement for a couple days now, you've been reported stalking, breaking into, and stealing items and various goods from unfinished, recovering, and traumatized homes, families…it's rather sad, to be honest."

Vaeron clenched his fists, the High Elf noticed.

"I didn't mean it like that. I know what's its like to lose something, something valuable from a war, this war. Believe me, I truly do."

Vaeron angrily protested in disgust.

"No you don't! These Orcs and their "Horde", they stole everything from me! My family, my home, my LIFE! It's all GONE! It's all their fault! And now King Terenas, instead of executing those animals, proclaims that he can 'save' them by locking them up! He's wrong, just like YOU! Just like everyone…just like…"

The High Elf stood there, in silence. Unbeknownst to Vaeron, tears were running down the Knight's cheeks, and he began to choke. Vaeron looked up, and saw the Knight, breaking down before him.

"My family is dead. Just like yours, all I have left is my foster mother, a human. I know what you're thinking, at least I have someone right?' No, it's not the same…not the same as a mother and father…parents who died…so that I could be here today. I miss them so much…so very much."

Vaeron's dimly lit, glowing blue eyes widened at the Knight's distress. He understood now, he understood he was not alone in the suffering. His selfishness blinded him to everyone else's victimization. He looked over the Knights shoulder, the woman whose house he had broken into was standing there, her daughter cuddled in her arms, crying. Vaeron looked down at the ground…his eyes swelling with tears. He bent down, picked up the stolen goods, walked past the Knight, and returned the items to their owners. The woman nodded in approval, before accepting the items, smiling and putting the door back up.

Vaeron walked towards the Knight feeling a shred of redemption.

"I suppose you're taking me in now, huh?"

The Knight smiled. "No. In my eyes, you're neither thief nor a murderer. You're not one of the Horde, so that's a plus. You just need help. My help…and that's what I'm going to do."

Without another word, the Knight put his arm over Vaerons shoulder, and signaled the direction to a distant sanctuary.

"Say…I didn't get your name, wh-"

"Vaeron sir. Just…Vaeron."

"Well then Vaeron. My name is Gurvir, and I humbly welcome you, starting today, into the Sunmane dynasty!"

The rain immediately came to a stop.

Before Vaeron could reminisce about another nigh forgotten memory, he could hear the sea. He looked up. There she was, standing by the edge of the cliff. Another shred of destiny? It didn't matter.

It was her. It had to be. Vaeron clenched his fists tightly, the steel bent and cracked.

"Luthaina Emberdawn!" Vaeron called out, his voice filled with outrage. The nearby trees were immediately abandoned by fear afflicted birds in Vaerons angered wake.

The priestess turned, now facing a stern looking man clad in blue and silver plate. No skin was visible on the warrior and nothing gave any indication of who he was save for the brilliant blue eyes that glowed from beneath the helm.

'What do you want...' she spoke plainly. The priestess had found there was always reason to be on edge. She had both alliance and horde curious about her loyalties but it was obvious that this were the latter of the two, come to find her once more.

The Blood Elf turned. Vaeron's only functioning eye widened behind his hooded helmet. She looked like an angel, standing there, the sun glittering unceasingly behind her. It was a glorious sight to behold, but Vaeron knew it was not the truth. She was no angel, no divine, benevolent creature. She was a monster. Vaeron's glowing eye gradually dimmed until the woman opened her mouth.

"What do you want…?"

Vaeron looked down to the ground dejectedly, "I never even got to say goodbye…or even a hello. I know he didn't forget. He couldn't have! He knew I was out there! I've been searching all these years! So much time searching…wasted! All because of YOU!"

Vaeron removed his helmet and threw it off the nearby cliff, where it was swallowed by the sea. Luthaina stood there, eyes widened, tears beginning to swell in her eyes. She knew what was about to happen, what was to come.

Vaeron unsheathed his sword, and pointed to the distressed Elf in undisputed defiance. "You killed Gurvir Sunmane, my last friend, my only family in this shattered, perpetually war-torn world. Once again…I am alone, alone in the darkness of Azeroth. All because of your insidious, deceptive agenda."

Luthaina blankly stared at Vaeron, speechless.

"It's OVER Luthaina! I will not let you bask in the glory of being hung by your legs atop the Stormwind Cathedral. Nor will I eviscerate your succubus body into shreds and feed you to the dogs. No. You will bleed…bleed just as he did. You will know what it feels like…to die."

Vaeron angrily sighed. "For Gurvir…"

There was not much time to react. It's strange how fast things can change. How a moment in time, a butterflies wings flutter, carrying the insect from flower to flower in search of substances and in another moment, it's life snatched; it's flame pinched before they could reach the height of their life. This moment had come for Luthaina.

She had resigned herself to her fate. There was so much left unsaid and so much that she could not say. The sun burned brightly against her back as she looked at the man, warming her and comforting her.

There was nothing in her left to fight for.

Before Luthaina could open her mouth and offer one final desperate attempt at averting disaster, it was too late. Vaeron charged the priestess with his blade. The force of the impact lifted Luthaina off her feet, and blood began pouring from her mouth onto Vaeron's face. In disgust, he tossed her twitching body aside, into the grassy plain, saving her from the sea's gaping maw.

The grass quickly ran red. Freshly shed blood began to stain the once glowing green grass of Quel'thalas, the blood of its children.

Luthaina lay there, blood pouring from her lips and her chest. Her body was twitching uncontrollably, her teeth chattering. Soon her final breath will be expended, and the world will be rid of her taint, forever.

Vaeron stood before the broken, bloodied body of Luthaina Emberdawn. He looked at her, her eyes looking into his, as if to say, "Why?" He spat on her, disgusted by her plea. Kneeling down, he whispered into her ear.

"If you see him, and before he vengefully tears your soul to pieces for deceiving him, tell Gurvir I said…-hello-."

As Vaeron backed away, cackling maniacally at Emberdawns final seconds, he reached into his belt and pulled out a small, custom Dwarven flare gun. Pointing it skyward and firing, its glorious crimson flash radiated across the stars as fluttering of wings could be heard closing in ever quickly.

Syr had returned, gleefully screeching as she approached her master. Vaeron, about to take his leave, looked at the corpse of Luthaina Emberdawn one last time.

Grinning with a nigh ecstacy, he looked away, forced himself onto his mount and flew off into the night sky.

The paladin had quickly taken the life of the priestess, his sword expertly wielded as it plunged into the chest of the sin'dorei, knocking her down and pinning her to the grass.

A brilliant light flashed before her eyes, a searing pain ripping at her chest as she laid there. The sword now ripped free from her bleeding chest cavity. Whispers all around her called her name; a deep chill settled in her soul making even the idea of though impossible.

'Luthaina...' a voice whispered.

'It's time to go home...' another called out to her, its ethereal voice soothing and yet demanding of her.

Her visions of peace were ripped away from her as she looked up, meeting with the familiar handsome face of her most beloved brother. She tried to smile but could not. Everything was so hard to do, even breathing. He looked so handsome to her and the sun felt so warm. He pulled her into his arms and his touch was fatherly and comforting.

"Arthonnen...take me..home...take me..take me to my lillies..' She coughed, the vision of his face fading from her, her world growing dark, "I'll..always..be..with you..." she sputtered up more blood.

A brilliant flash of light stirred her as she looked up, finding the face of the beautiful paladin that touched her to her very soul, stirring all emotion and depth within her. He reached a hand for her own and she took it, unsure if this was even real...It did not matter for he pulled her close to him and brushed her hair away from her neck, kissing her shoulder as he embraced her the way he did that night in the farmhouse.

The light enveloped the two in its loving embrace, her heart lifted and her soul free from mortal bonds.

Her last thought before she slipped away was that of a small infant girl with raven black hair and aquamarine eyes. It was worth it for her. It was always worth it for her.

And it was then, with the wind rustling the grass around her, tickling her body in a sorrowful embrace and the sun beating down on her pale skin, did Luthaina Emberdawn die.


The Lordaeron Lilly: The seasons changed, leaving the delicate flower to wilt, but from the decay of the fragrant flower, grows something even greater. Mourn the loss but do not forget it's roots still hold, ready to spring into life with another season.


Arthonnen was too late. The moment he found his sister, she was cut down by the warrior. He clenched his fits jumping from the shadows to tackle the warrior away from his beloved sister but was too late.

"You have earned yourself a fate far worse than death," were the only words he uttered.

His attention was on his sister now, running over to her and dropping to his knees, pulling down the mask that concealed his face as he leaned Lu into him.

"Dammit!" he shouted out to the sky "You are going to be okay, damnit!"

Arthonnen shook, panicking there was no way he could find a healer in time to save her life. "Damnit Lu you're going to be okay! Please I beg of you to call upon the light to save you so I can bring you home!"

His efforts did no good. She was to weak to call upon the only thing that could save her now.

A tear ran down his cheek as he heard his sisters last words. "Arthonnen...take me..home...take me..take me to my lillies.. I'll..always..be..with you..."

Arthonnen screamed out in pain and frustration "She served you without question! This is how you repay her? You were supposed to guide her to keep her safe!"

He was helpless to save his sisters life, and she died in his arms.

"Damn that warrior! Damn the Alliance, and damn the Light!" He wailed, looking down at his sister, slowly moving his hands to close her eyes.

Moments that felt like days passed until Arthonnen mustered the strength to finally stand, carrying his sister in his arms.

He set off. it was a long distance, but he knew the spot she should be buried; under a great tree in the Twilight Highlands. The red dragons grove, there should could finally be at peace.

Time would pass and Arthonnen had almost all but faded away, coming to her grave at least once a week. Each time he left a lily on the mound of dirt.

He kept to himself now, not talking to a soul. He simply sat in Lu's old house. It would soon be sold, the Magisters would not let him keep it. He was nameless and they would strip him of everything. He moved all of Lu's prized possessions so that they could not be claimed as well.

On one not so particular day, he flipped through one of her old books and found a picture hidden away and a note. He read it as he stood, heading out the door.

It was time to go to Dalaran.


The roots of the lily spread. They always do. And when the time comes for them to sprout from underneath the earth, meeting the light of the sun with a fresh look upon the world, someone is always ready and waiting to take of it, it's fragrance and beauty.

The life of the coveted Lily.


The bright and active city of Dalaran was particularly bustling as magical students and high magisters alike made their way around the city in the sky. A particular high elven woman stood, overlooking the streets, content to watch people in their own enviorment.

'Sunmane?' called a voice from inside the group home for the students.

'Yes?' The young magi called, rushing in to greet the elderly human woman who had looked after her since her youth.

'The older woman regarded her with a kind smile, walking closer to her and resting her hand on the elven woman's shoulder, brushing away an errant black curl from her pale cheek, "Alaronae..There is something of which we need to speak. We have received news from Stormwind about your father...I think it's time you learned of your history.'


"The ember has burned away. Our family's name now lies in the smoldering ashes of our people"