A/N: Thank you for... uh... being willing to read my first story. I'm hoping for some good feedback, seeing as this is partly based on my own character.
Disclaimer: I do not own Blizzard or World of Warcraft. I wouldn't be writing fanfiction if I did.
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Chapter One
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Aerineth walked calmly through Stormwind, gently tugging her large, white Snowsaber behind her. The night elf's ears perked up at the slightest movement, which came from either beggars or rats.
She wrinkled her dainty nose as her giant cat, Cyrus, tried to take a bite out of a rat scampering by.
"I'm glad Darnassus will never turn into a place like this."
"Commander Aerineth, ma'am!"
Aerineth turned smoothly at the sound of the young man's voice.
"What news?"
"Westfall has been taken. Even the Defias Brotherhood have emptied out their stronghold."
Aerineth cursed in Darnassian under her breath. That could only mean a day's walk by caravan to reach Stormwind gates.
"Are the forces preparing?" she asked, her eyes glowing dangerously at the thought of the upcoming battle.
"Yes, ma'am."
Aerineth gracefully leaped onto Cyrus' saddle, her robe slightly catching onto the trinkets on it.
"I will be repairing and getting supplies in the Bazaars. I will see you then, soldier."
"Yes, ma'am!"
As the young man dashed off, the elf dazedly wondered how old he really was.
"As young as he is... he shouldn't see the likes of battle as of yet..."
Her ear perked at an unfamiliar sound. She turned sharply to a grimy corner at the side of the road.
A little human girl, no older than six, was flopped there, and the grime of her small dress matched the walls well, meaning she had been in this area for a very long time. Clumpy black hair and bright, greyish blue eyes weeped, and the girl sniffled into her dress.
"Oh, little one... what has this world done to you?"
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Three hours of begging... and no such luck. No money, no food...
Kiara had never had this poor of luck in weeks. She rubbed at her tiny, grimy hands consciously.
As she wobbled back to her nook in the Beggar's Alley, she couldn't help noticing a beautiful woman gently descending the steps in front of the Inn, tugging a very, very large cat behind her.
The woman was tall and graceful. A night elf. Her glowing eyes glittered, only fading when she closed darker lashes over them, and in a fraction of a second, those glitters would be back. She had flowing white hair, that glittered like her eyes. Her clothes were strange... they matched, much like those warriors that were looked up to in the gates. Many new warriors walked around, wearing green bracers, yellow leggings, and maybe even bright blue headpieces. Some women didn't seem to be wearing leggings at all.
But this woman, her blue and and light beige outfit seemed to permeate power, and the large, gold and red staff glowed like a torch, but instead of flames, it emitted a white, purifying light. The way she moved... the elf reminded her of Benadictus, a kindly, very powerful priest that lived in the Cathedral of Light, which was right at the heart of Stormwind.
Suddenly, a Stormwind soldier dashed onto the scene, gasping for the beautiful elf's attention. He saluted stiffly, waiting for her answer. Kiara crept closer, hoping to catch some of their conversation.
"-...estfall has been taken. Even the Defias Brotherhood have emptied out their stronghold."
Kiara bit her thumbnail lightly. Westfall was close. There were travelers that came from the stronghold there all the time. But... taken? By whom?
"Are the forces preparing?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Kiara slid down the wall she had been leaning against. Another war... another fight... and only more orphans. Just like her...
"I will be repairing and getting supplies in the Bazaars. I will see you then, soldier."
"Yes, ma'am!"
More death... just like her parents. Her mother was a powerful mage, and her father a warrior of a lower class. They both were slaughtered... by the Horde. Kiara sniffed and rubbed her face with her linen dress. How she missed them...
The woman, she noticed, that had jumped onto her cat, was staring at her. She blushed, not knowing what to do. The elf slipped off her cat and knelt in front of the small girl.
"Child... what is your name?"
She blinked. Glowing eyes entranced the blue in her own.
"K-Kiara, missus. I-I... "
The woman picked her up easily and lifted her onto her cat easily, who yipped, in a somewhat dog-like fashion.
A shadow was hovering over Kiara and a weight and warmth was suddenly pressing on her skinny back lightly. A gloved hand seized the reigns in front of her and snapped them once.
"The Park, Cyrus. Kiara... deserves a bath."
Kiara gasped and Cyrus sped through the buildings like a blur.
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"Lady--... Aerineth?"
"Indeed, it is me. This girl deserves a good bath, no?"
"Yes, my Lady, but... she is but a..."
"Do not finish that sentence. I would like a room for a night. How much would that cost?"
"Ah... a golden piece per night, my Lady." Kiara seemed to gaze up at Aerineth in horror for even thinking of paying such a price.
"That will be fine," the ivory-haired elf replied, dropping a gold into the purple elf's palm. "Room 3, my lady, have a nice stay."
Kiara protested to the rich treatment, but the tall elf lifted her up the stairs regardless of her objections.
Aerineth opened the room's door. The little girl in her arms stopped struggling and gaped at the opulent surroundings. Aerineth closed the door amusedly and beckoned the small child to follow her into the bathroom. The girl followed dazedly, but was even more shocked when she saw the bathtub. It looked like a miniature moonwell, and looked just as inviting to swim in. The water steamed and glistened, almost seducing Kiara to jump right in.
"Come now. It will not bite you. Would you like me to leave?" Aerineth smiled, watching the emotions on the girl's face play rapidly.
"NO! I mean... no, missus, I don't... I haven't had a bath in a very long time and it wouldn't be proper to..."
Glowing eyes stared into deep blue. "Do you trust me, child?"
The girl hesitated. "Yes. I do not know why I do... but... I do."
Light purple hands lift the girl up again and slipped off the dress. She then was dunked unceremoniously into the steaming water, which was surprisingly very, very comfortable.
"Missus Aerineth..."
"Yes, child?"
"What... what are you?"
Aerineth glanced up at the girl's face, still working. "I'm a priestess of Elune, my child."
"I've seen a lotta priestess', missus, but none look as prime as you do!"
Aerineth smiled gently. The girl cocked her head curiously.
"I've been through many battles of Azeroth, including the slaying of the great dragon Nefarian. Do you know who that is, my child?"
Kiara shook her head negatively. "Was he gi... gigan..."
"Gigantic? Yes, he was very large. Large enough to fit the town square."
The girl gaped as water was dumped over her head.
"Why were you fighting the dragons?"
"They... were killing our kind, little one."
"Why?"
The elf priestess went silent for a moment. "No one knows why people really kill, my child. Trusting someone enough to tell them why they kill is a rare and treasured danger these days."
Kiara fiddled with her thumbs in the warm water, and realized she could see her cuticles again.
"Can... can you tell me why you fight, missus Aerineth?"
Aerineth blinked as she lifted the girl out of the water and draped a fluff, forest green bathrobe around the human.
"I... I fight because I can. And because I don't want children like you to go through the childhood that I went through. One of war and suffering."
Kiara contemplated that. To have the power to do something like that... that would be amazing. And unfortunately, she didn't believe it was possible. If someone had the power to save her parents... and every other orphan's parents... she would treasure that person forever, no matter who they were.
"Did you lose your parents to fighting too, missus?"
Aerineth gazed at the setting sun through the arched window. "A long, long time ago, my child."
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"Why are you doing this for me?"
Aerineth was kneeling in front of the newly cleaned little girl, who's midnight hair had reached midway through her slim back.
"I do this so another child can live comfortably. I want you to live like you should live, Kiara."
Kiara gazed up into the night elf's face. "Besides," the woman, far older than her looks suggested, continued, "you have a power you yet know about, and I can see it."
The girl didn't know what to say. "I...I..."
"Here." Five golden pieces fell gently into the little human's hand.
"No... this is much too much! I can't--!"
"Yes you can," the priestess smiled gently, "Just don't spend it all in one place, alright?"
The girl was about to object, but the woman had already jumped onto her saber, Cyrus. "I hope to see you again, little one. Stay safe... and if they breach the gates... "
Glittering eyes met blue. "Hide."
And with that, the priestess was gone in a flash of white, blue, and gold.
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"Where be the next caravan, mon?"
"I's don't know, ya stupid troll. Stop askin'."
"Now, now, save your anger for the raid. Stormwind will not be easy to take, and our forces might be met at Goldshire."
The troll's tribal markings wrinkled as he frowned. "What choo be talkin' bout?"
"Our scout noticed that the human forces are already gathering and have been since late yesterday. He saw some fly in on griffin," the undead rogue replied irritatedly.
The rotting human continued. "The force may be ready to fight us at Goldshire, by which time, the other caravan, which should be traveling secretly, should be able to sneak by and raid Stormwind. They are mainly made up of rogues. Lord Sain would know more though. That troll..."
The orc grunted. "I's wanted to raid Stormwind. Been long time since we raid anyting."
The troll hunter scoffed. "There be lotsa good warriors in da soldier group, so I dun mind, mon. Dis will be a good fight."
The undead's lips twisted into an awful smile. "Indeed. About time I agree with you on anything."
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"Are we ready, Commander Arthan?"
The human glanced at the priestess and rubbed his stubble thoughtfully.
"Will we ever be ready, Aerineth?"
"I suppose not."
He jumped off his horse to get a better look at the elf he'd known all these years. He sighed.
"I'm still taller," she smirked at him slyly.
He huffed and seemed to puff up a little, bringing himself a little taller. Didn't help much. He deflated and slouched. Aerineth laughed musically and gazed at his face for a moment. The years had changed him.
He was once a talented warrior in her regular troop of adventurers, seeking their way through dangerous places like Molten Core and Zul'Gurub... now, he was a commander of the Stormwind Guard, and a strong one, at that. They had looked after each other in the olden days, back when...
Her eyes dimmed a little. He noticed.
"Don't think about it."
She glanced into his clear green eyes.
"I miss them."
"We all do."
She smiled sorrowfully and ran a slender finger over the human warrior's laugh lines. "You're growing old, my friend."
He laughed uproariously. "And you're the only one that's willing to admit it outright!"
She giggled slightly and embraced him hard. Seeing as how short he was, his face was almost crushed against her breast.
"As much as I've always wanted to devour your breasts, I don't want 'Lecherous Mongrel' added to my list of titles."
"Be safe in this battle," she said calmly, ignoring his humor. She pulled him back and stared seriously into his face.
"I cannot guarantee anything. But I will try."
"That is all I can ask for. I cannot... bear to lose another."
"War is like that, Aeri. But we all seem to move on anyway."
Her heel's clicked softly on the cobblestones.
"I will never move on."
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"Form a line, men. Wait for those Horde to come to us!"
"YESSIR!"
There was a yell in orcish from a short distance. The Goldshire village was long since evacuated, and the villagers took refuge in the gates of Stormwind.
"Make haste men! Cavaliers, wait for my call! Archers, draw!"
Hundreds of Horde emerged from the trees, wielding large, deadly weapons, and emitting horrendously loud battle shouts.
"Commander Arthan! There are more than there were before!"
"DRAW, FIRE!"
Arrows cut through the air, making dozens of high, whistling sounds.
"CHARGE!"
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Aerineth was muttering healing spells under every breath that she took. A young soldier fell a couple feet away from her, along with an orc that he took down with him. A fireball whizzed passed her pointed ear, singing a few of her white hairs.
She cursed. There were many strong Horde here. At the corner of her eye, she saw a gleam of a sword in the forest. Her eyes widened.
"SOLDIERS! You there! Rogue! Send for another troop! Another caravan are sneaking past from the side!" A small rogue looked around wildly and sprinted off towards Stormwind. And orc who understood Common whirled around and faced her. He screamed to his own troops and several started charging her. Her hands glowed for a moment and she instantly cast a ball of glittering, holy light in a circle around her. Some of the Horde charging were thrown back at the force, but the others winced and kept charging.
An undead rogue flung a throwing knife at her, and she dodged it narrowly, dancing out of the way. She drew her staff, Benediction, and blocked another axe from behind her. A night elf hunter noticed her trouble and aimed his arrow carefully at the axe-wielder's neck. The arrow sang true and killed the Horde instantly.
Aerineth panted and began casting a quick charge of dark magic at the rogue who threw the knife at her. He vanished.
She cursed again. Then she heard a familiar voice. "PULL BACK! Stormwind is under siege! Pull back!"
The messenger must have reached Arthan instead. She ripped the rogues mind to shreds with her still charging Mind Blast. He screamed in pain, but managed to slice her once across the back before he fell. She gasped in pain.
The Horde was equally as damaged as the Alliance was, and retreated to regroup. The sound of battle was still heard, but was heard farther away, towards...
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Kiara sobbed. After only half a day of being away from the powerful priestess, three of the well known orphan bullies stole her gold and threw her into the nearest mud puddle. She was dirty again, and her new dress stained.
"If only I was stronger, I could have shared that money with..."
There was a scream of pain near the town square. But the fight was in Goldshire, wasn't it?
She saw human men, one, she knew. A nice baker, who tried to give her a loaf of bread once and a while. She saw them slaughtered down, one by one by barely visible shadows of bony figures. She looked around and the townspeople had no idea what was happening. Could they not see them?
"Get away!" she screamed, tossing a rock at the nearest shadow. His rotting form appeared in plain sight, and the humans around panicked.
He growled like a wild animal and turned to her menacingly. The other shadows seemed to turn to her also. His form was hunched and tattered, but the leather he wore looked strong and experienced. He pointed his bloody dagger towards her and said one word in Common. "You."
The other shadows released their shadowy forms and sprinted towards her. She screamed and clutched onto her dress tightly, hoping to disappear --...
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A girl's scream filled the air. Kiara! Aerineth thought in a panic. No, they cannot get her... The night elf's pace quickened, her blue cloak kicking up behind her and a trail of light where her Benediction had been. The Statues of Stormwind towered over her as she rushed to the heart of the city, hoping... hoping...
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Through closed eyes, Kiara could hear the Undead's shout in anger, and muttering in Gutterspeak to his companions. How... did she escape?
The little girl looked at her dirty hands. They were see through, and shadowy. Just like her attackers had been. She moved slowly to the bodies of the fallen humans, carefully avoiding getting too close to th rogues. She went to the baker first. She shook him gently, trying to get him to wake.
"Mr. Baker, please wake, you... you have time to still live..." his eyes, a clear, sky blue, were pained and squinting, but he recognized her, even in her shadowy form. He smiled slightly, and whispered something intelligible to the small girl. She tried to hear him, but failed to. "Mr. Baker... what--," but his head collapsed to the side, and the blood ran freely from his mouth onto the cracks of the cobblestones. She froze.
A white hot emotion filled her up to the brim and her shadow form disappeared. She cried out in a disbelieving pain and the rogues whirled on her, surprised to find her in a completely different spot. Her hands glowed for a moment, and the blood vanished, trying to appear back into the body. But it only served to shower both her, and the deceased baker in his own blood.
She cried out in agony. The blood, the sight of the blood, it burned... oh god it burned so bad!
Aerineth skidded onto the scene, seeing the rogues charging blindly at the blood-covered girl she had taken care of the night before. The girl seemed to squirm and wail in a unseeing agony and the priestess could not find the source. But her main focus were the rogues, and they--...
She managed to tackle one of them to the ground, sending a ball of smiting light towards another. The third, however, charged and stabbed his jagged knife into her arm. She hissed and backhanded the rogue, and used the other arm to wield her Benediction to send him sprawling the other direction.
The undead groaned, and she pulled the dagger out with a gasp, using a slight healing spell that would heal her over time. The skin on her arm began to thread itself together again, but the rogue underneath her had other plans.
He smashed his deteriorating fist into her healing arm and she screamed, sending a dark power out to him, giving him the innate urge to get away from her and fast. The other two were too far away to be affected.
Aerineth gasped in pain, examining her injured arm in worry. Her previous battle had drained her, and she had used the last of her magical power on her scream. She looked to the little girl behind her, covered in blood. The girl had collapsed from her unknown pain and fell beside the fallen baker. She recognized the other two bodies as a man that worked at the cheese shop and the reagents vendor, who she only visited earlier that day.
The priestess growled, and picked up her staff with her good arm. The blindly fleeing rogue was beginning to recover and the other two were already back on their feet, though injured.
She knocked the smited undead's head off with a swing of her large staff and kicked the other hard in the stomach. The headless body collapsed to it's knees and the neck spurted a grotesque, purple blood.
A battle cry was heard from the area where the gates were, and she looked up in hope of seeing Arthan, charging in on his dark horse...
Multicolored skin flooded in, and she saw a troll, wielding a pike with a familiar looking head stabbed upon it. The vision of Arthan's bloody head embedded on a spear sent the weary priestess into a blind rage, and she began screaming the curses in Orcish she knew.
The horde of Horde almost stopped at the profanity that erupted from the beautiful elf's mouth to stare at her in amazement, but then they saw a large ball of light forming between her hands. They charged her, with every intention of killing her as she prepared.
But the light was let loose, and it disintegrated twenty of the charging Horde on the spot. She fell to her knees in exhaustion and collapsed on top of Kiara.
An orc was about to run her through when the troll that wielded the Arthan head pike rode up on his raptor and stopped him. "Thrall... might wanna see her, and dat girl too, mon." The orc grumbled and pulled his axe away from the unconscious woman's neck.
More soldiers of the Alliance came rushing out from within the city, but the Horde had expected them, and all there was left of the battle were bodies and the Horde portals to what looked like Ogrimmar.
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End Chapter One
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A/N: I hoped you like! Please leave a review. I've never been one to stick to anything very well, but I'm sure your comments would help!