Disclaimer: World of WarCraft and all related names and trademarks are the property of Blizzard, who makes lots and lots of money off of them.

Shendaris and Selessa are my original characters from the Sentinels server on WoW. Selessa is also featured in the first few chapters on my other story "Of Flames and Jolly Rogers"

Please enjoy - R&R!

The Sisters Dawnlighter

By William Logan

Chapter 1: The Suffering of the Forests of Quel'Thelas

To untrained ears, the small patch of forest in which Shendaris Dawnlighter was crouching in a high tree branch was eerily silent. Few birds chirped, no insects were emitting mating sounds, even the wind was still. To trained ears, such as that of the elven ranger, the forest itself was screaming in agony. She could hear the march of the oncoming army of the Undead Scourge, led by the traitorous Prince Arthas, loyal servant of the Lich King. The abominations had marched through the land, ripping up trees and slaughtering animals and elves alike, destroying life without hesitation, and, in the ones that still had some semblence of a mind, with horrifying glee. Shendaris had seen many of her friends cut down, and now here, mere miles from the capitol city of Silvermoon, she and a few others of the rangers, led by the valiant Ranger General Sylvanas Windrunner, were making a last stand, trying to give the few runners they had sent out enough time to reach the city to warn them of the army approaching their gates.

The elf tucked her platinum blonde hair back behind her pointed ear and listened harder, now hearing the rumble of the terrible meat wagons and the irregular march of the undead legions. She turned to the nearby tree in which she saw General Windrunner crouched similarly in her tree, her jaw set and her blue eyes glowing intensely as she awaited the inevitable. The trees around them began to quake, some crashing to the ground as the army of the dead finally came into visual range.

"Send them back to the grave, my sisters! We are Silvermoon's last hope, let not one escape!" Sylvanas cried, and the sky was suddenly black from the rain of arrows the elves unleashed on the undead army. When the arrows settled into their targets, Shendaris looked with a satisfied smile to see that many of the corpses were laying still on the ground now, many arrows stuck through them. However, it took only mere moments for the majority of the bodies to begin to stir and stand again, ready to fight. A chill went down Shendaris's back as she saw the silver-haired man riding a skeletal horse stride forward, enormous rune-blade in hand, an evil glow coming from the carvings in it.

"Open fire," he stated, quite simply, and the meat wagons complied, as though with minds of their own. Corpses flew threw the air, hitting the trees with unnatural force. Shendaris could see General Windrunner leap from her tree as it fell, glaring defiantly up at Arthas, drawing her bow back and letting it loose. The arrow struck the Death Knight squarely in the chest, but simply stuck in his armor as Arthas grinned haughtily, leaping off his horse and charging forward, running Sylvanas through on his runeblade. Shendaris's heart leapt into her throat and she drew back her bow, about to let loose at Arthas before she felt the tree she was in suddenly shake. A loud snap sounded below her and the tree split in half, toppling to the ground, hearing yet another loud crack, this time of her leg as she landed hard. She looked up to see Sylvanas, laying on the ground before Arthas, his runeblade no longer penetrating her body.

"Finish me..." the Ranger-General gasped, "I... deserve... a clean death."

"No," Arthas said, his eyes cold, "you were a thorn in my side too long for me to allow you to rest peacefully." He stretched out his hand and muttered words that were foreign to Shendaris, who watched in horror as Sylvanas's body convulsed on the ground, an ethereal blue cloud rushing forth out of her mouth and taking a form, hovering above her body.

"Curse you, Arthas," a shrill voice that made Shendaris shiver to the bone screamed from the spirit. The voice was barely recognizable, but it was, indeed, that of her former commander. Shendaris let out a cry, struggling to get a decent shot off, despite her awkward position on the ground. Her arrow flew towards Arthas, ricocheting off one of his massive pauldrons. The Death Knight turned and set his eyes upon her, smiling.

"Well, it looks like we have another addition to our army waiting to be created... wonderful. Welcome, my dear elf... to living under the will of the Lich King." He stretched forth his hand and began uttering the same words again, as Shendaris struggled to get away. She could feel something pull the life out of her, the agony was overwhelming, much greater than any physical pain she had ever felt. Every negative emotion she had ever had become tangible, and was all she could feel. Pain, suffering, grief: these were all that she knew. Although now lacking vocal chords, she let loose a scream that penetrated her very being. To her great horror she realized that these were her birth cries in her new life as a banshee.