The sun was rising over the Eversong Woods, and the forest looked like it was on fire. The bright green grass sparkled against the orange and red leaves among the white bark trees. Among the grass was a young girl, playing among the ruins of an old city. The girl's raven black hair was delicately cut around her face, her bright green eyes stunning against her hair. She was wearing ratty old clothes, and was completely covered in dirt. "Alysta dear, your father would like a word with you," a house maid nearby yelled to her. The girl looked up and jumped over the rubble. The house maid cleaned her up, rubbing her long ears and cheeks until her face was clean. It was not a usual occation that her father wished to speak with her, so little Alysta put on a surprised expression. She followed the woman to her home, which stood at the back of the beautiful Silvermoon city. She was lead through a maze of corridors through the city until she entered a large round room, draped with blue curtains. Across the room against the wall, sat her father on his throne, Lor'theemar Theron, but most would call him King of the Blood Elves. He was talking to a rotted looking man, his elbow and knee skin completely gone, showing only bone, and his mouth looked like it had been sown back on. Alysta's father looked at her as she entered the room. It had been a year since she'd last seen her dad; he was always off doing official business or something. His voice made the girl jump as he spoke, "Alysta, this is Astor, he is going to take you to his home." Alysta stood there in front of her father, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Her father continued, "In order for us to gain the trust of the Forsaken, who so kindly gave us part of their land to stay on," at this he smiled at the rotting man, "I have decided to send a Blood elf to stay and live among the Undead people, to learn their ways of…living," He hesitated at the last word, but continued on, "So I've decided to send you along, my daughter, Princess Alysta of the Blood Elves, to live among their people." The girl blinked, not understanding much of what was going on. The maid beside her shifted uneasily. "There is one condition to living among another race, you may not return to Silvermoon until you are of proper age." Alysta blinked her eyes, the depth of the situation finally sinking in as she looked at the rotting man once more.
At least she did until another maid brought all of her belongings into the room and sat it next to her. Within a second, Astor's rotting hand was around Aly's little wrist and he was dragging her away from her father. She screamed at his touch, and fought to get away, but he was surprisingly strong for someone, or something, that was missing most of his muscles. A warm sensation filled her arm as she screamed, and suddenly the smell smoke entered the air. Astor's arm had caught on fire. He let go in order to somehow die the flame down, and Aly ran as fast as she could back to her father. She hugged him and hid behind him, not knowing what had just happened, as tears ran down her face. A familiar voice sounded through the image and the little girl began to fade away.
"Alysta…ALYSTA!" The voice yelled and she woke up, startled enough to roll out of her bed. A man, almost identical to Astor, was laughing as Aly stood up and brushed the dirt off of her. "That wasn't funny Kriith!" She snapped at him. She walked over to the closest mirror, ignoring her still laughing Forsaken friend. She was 18 again; the same black hair matted messily, her bright green eyes still filled with sleep. She flicked the bangs out of her eyes as she yawned. She rolled her eyes and turned around, facing Kriith. She lifted her hand and instantly a ball of fire appeared in it. "Stop laughing or I'll set your hand on fire this time 'round." This instantly made him shut up. He knew of the story of the day she had been brought to the Brill, a little town not far from the Undercity, home of the Undead. And also, the fact that Astor was his older brother had something to do with it.
"Oh calm down Aly, I was only trying to wake you up, you were crying again." She sighed and let the fire evaporate. She walked back over to her bed and fell down on it. Her friend lied down next to her, staring at the ceiling. He was one of the few Forsaken who'd been kind to her upon her arrival in Trisfal Glades, and not to mention one of the easiest to look at. He was one of the few living dead that you could tell was handsome before. What was left of his skin was a healthy coloring like her own, and his yellow eyes were still shinning. His jaw was still intact and face almost perfectly clean. His spine bones and joint bones were the only things that showed, so you could tell he hadn't been dead long. "You know, you really have to let that go some day, it's been Sylvannas knows how many years and you're still having nightmares." He turned his head to look at her, his glittery eyes burning into her. She turned her head and stared at him equally, "How can I let somethin' like that go? I was taken from my home unjustly; my family and friends are long gone now…" Her voice drifted as she thought about it. Kriith sighed and sat up on the bed. "You were the one that told me your father agreed to it, Princess, so it doesn't seem like he cared much," He retorted. She stiffened at the sound of her old title; he was the only one, besides the Dark Lady and a few others that new of it. "You know damn well I'm no longer a princess." She stood up, and opened up the wardrobe in the room. It was filled with robes of all sorts, some for battle, and some for lying about. She took out one of the old rugged ones and slipped it on over her night clothes. She then walked over to the mirror and began to brush her hair straight, using the brush of Blood Elf design. Kriith walked up behind her, close enough that she could feel his deathly cold breath on her neck, "You look exactly the same as you did when you first came to the Forsaken, beautiful." She could sense the longing in his words easily. She knew how much he longed to be human again, to be once more handsome. Aly felt Kriith's face in her hair, making her heart almost stop. She leaned back against his body, wanting to stay like that forever, but then the real world came back and she stood straight once more. She turned around to face him, unaware that their faces would be so close together, making every inch of her body was tingling. "One day, you'll be human again, and I'll make sure of it," she promised. At this he chuckled and backed away, "You know well enough that I can never be living again. I can not escape death." "I'll find a way, even if it kills me," she responded, and like so many occasions before, that glimmer of hope seemed to seep through her whole body, making every cell feel more alive then ever.
"I was thinking of heading to Orgimmar today, what do you think?" Kriith asked, changing the subject. She had always loved the home of the Orcs and Trolls, better then the sewers of the Undercity. She smirked a bit, "Sure, I've wanted to stop by and get some more runes anyway." She picked up her large backpack and brought out a rough looking rock, with a strange blue symbol on it. She held it in her hand and closed her eyes, thinking about the wasteland city and within a few seconds, the rock burst into a large glowing disk. "Shall we," She asked her friend, and he grabbed her hand. "We shall," he whispered back and together they stepped through the portal into Orgimmar.