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The Story of Attilan starts years ago, during the Third War. The Death Knight Arthas has destroyed most of Quel'thalas, and the Blood Elves are suffering from a loss of magic. Attilan was stationed as one of the Blood Elves, traveling together with Prince Kael'Thas Sun strider and Lord Garithos. He was a priest, though also quite skilled with the Sword. We start our tale when Lord Garithos summoned the reinforcements back to the front line, and Kael and his men were left to die, trying to defeat the Scourge in the East.
Clouds of dust arose from the battlefield as Kael and his men tried desperately to hold their stand against the undead. The sun was starting to set. It would be nightfall soon. This would make the battle even more difficult, because the High Elves preferred the Light over everything. 'Damn these Undead!' shouted Kael, while directing his Phoenix, which was shooting waves of fire at the nearest Scourge. The flames scorched their heads but they kept walking onwards, towards the few Blood Elves that were left. 'We're not going to make it, my lord! There are too many of them!' One of the Priests was desperately trying to shackle the undead in their place. One of them was held in his place, the rest just rampaged over him. Attilan was praying to the Light under his breath, and a holy light crashed down upon one of his allies, healing him back to health, making the various cuts and bleedings go away instantly. 'Thank you so much, Attil!' said the younger elf gratefully. Attilan just nodded and went on with his prayers. One of the Scourge undead came at him from behind, his claws showing, ready to strike, but Attilan was quicker, exorcising the fiend with a single light emitting orb. He then turned the undead, making them terrified of him, and used his sword to slice off the head of a necromancer nearby. However, regardless of Kael and his small armies' strength, they were quickly surrounded. The battle seemed hopeless, until Lady Vash and her serpentine Naga came to help and together they defeated the Scourge force in the east. Vash and her Naga explained that they hate the undead as much as the Blood Elves (Because Illidan was summoned to kill the Lich King, naturally.) The Blood Elves saw in this an ally.
Naturally, Garithos, who was a racist by heart, send the Blood Elves to jail as soon as he heard they worked together with 'Monsters'. From this moment on, Attilan and the rest of the Elves forsake the Alliance.
It was at this time that Attilan was replaced by another priest in Quel'thalas, and he was sent home. He continued following the ways of the light, while rebuilding the glorious city of Silvermoon. After a few months, he noticed that the Light did not respond to his wishes as much as they used to. Wondering why this was, he went to his trainer and mentor, Lady Liadrin.
'Milady' he said, after entering the glorious halls inside Quel'thalas, the red and golden lights shimmering of the surface of many magi cal objects. Since a few months, the Blood Elves started feeding themselves off magic from the Twisted Nether, to quench their thirst. 'I have noticed that my skills with the Light are fainting, do you have any idea why this is?'Liadrin looked at Attilan for quite some time, before letting out a sigh. She was a head priestess of the Light, and had worked with Attilan for years. 'I do not know how to tell you, but the Light has….. abandoned us. Somehow, when we need it most, the Light turns its back on us all.'Attilan stared at Liadrin, turned to stone. How was this possible? Had he not served the Light for countless years? Muttering an excuse, he turned his back on his mentor and walked away, he needed time to think. Attilan walked to his private retreat and started practicing using his healing powers again. Fueled by his doubts, the Light worked even less proper than they were supposed to, and frustration filled his heart up to the point where he threw aside his meditation table, unable to continue any longer. Liadrin was right.