1Tears of Elune
A/N: I am a fan of Warcraft, but my story might not follow the exact history of WoW. I also have a few things from the books, so I apologize if you don't understand part of it.
Disclaimer- I do not own the game World of Warcraft, or the books. All names of my characters are property of me. All relations are a coincidence.
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Elune was not with her.
Madness came when the Dark Portal released a surge of evil across the world. Druids searched through the Emerald Dream for the answer, but their spirits were destroyed when their hopes crushed them, literally. With the Emerald Dream eradicated, the druids of Teldrassil weakened. The Night Elves could not help with the return of the Burning Legion, so they were easy targets. Felbeasts sucked the living breath and power out of the priests and the druids and Demon Spawn destroyed the warriors who slashed at them. The remaining Night Elves fled to Darnassus and hid there, while the Burning Legion continued to ruin the rest of the world.
The humans were perseverant, but arrogant. They held their heads high and only cared about the medals on their chests. Of course, it was easier to kill them due to the fact that they couldn't live when their heads were ripped off. The humans were almost wiped out. Less than 500 humans fled to the Highlands, beaten badly and with some minor ailments caused by the fleas that clung to their horses.
The dwarves and gnomes were corrupted. They wouldn't take defeat for an answer, so the Burning Legion had turned them into a monstrous race known as the Bloodlust Horde. They helped with the demise of the Alliance. Did they betray the Alliance for a craving for flesh? Perhaps, but they fell in the line of an honorable battle. The icy hills that the tiny human-like creatures had called home were turned death cold.
What fate awaited the Horde? The orcs had already been corrupted, so they led a final corruption and a painful act of genocide. The trolls met the same fate. The taurens had their beautiful grasslands turned a slab of death and rotting stench. The Undead were cursed by a malevolent spell that ripped their remaining insides out. They were already undead, so why not give them a final death? Seriously, who's going to rise from the dirt when the soul of the cursed one is annihilated?
A stench filled the air as blood stained the ground. Groans of sorrow and defeat were heard as lifeless bodies were sprawled on the ruined earth. There were just too many bodies to clean. They weren't just humans, orcs, etc., there was widespread famine throughout the land due to the loss of natural balance. The creatures of Azeroth were either dead or about to be slaughtered. The only movement other than the sanctuaries for the night elves and the humans were the movements of the felbeasts who were left behind.
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Priests gathered around the statue of Mother Elune. Elune had her arms extended to the ceiling and water poured out of her hands to created a spring in the center of the Temple of the Moon. Silenced murmuring spread throughout the room. A night elf with beautiful mauve skin stepped forward. Her amber eyes were covered by ugly, long scars that spread downward through her face. Her forest green robe had tears at the sleeves where more scars were hidden. Her head turned, silver strands of hair fell in front of her eyes and around her body like delicate silk. She stepped forward and the sparkling spring soothed her with icy kindness.
A male night elf stepped in front of the crowd, he bowed at the priestess.
"Sister Alnacia." He said with respect. Alnacia turned. A surge of concern flooded her eyes.
"Brinic, you may speak. You do not need to show such respect toward me. I trust you." He looked at her with worry. As the scars on her face grew more visible, the internal scars deepened. Alnacia had been more reclusive than a night elf is entitled to be. This was awkward, especially for Brinic, who had been her childhood friend. Of course, he had supposedly betrayed Elune for his own beliefs, but his heart was still dedicated to her. She was not the goddess that stood before them, but the gorgeous creature who was scarred by vicious demons. She almost died for an honorable cause. That was more than Elune would ever do for them.
The group of acolytes and higher priests that were whispering behind the two night elves mumbled with haste and worry. The Burning Legion would soon find them, and chanting to a weathered rock that was carved like their beloved goddess would not protect them. They might as well face the truth. They began to back away from "Elune" and they rushed outside. There were better things to do, like creating weapons and armor to protect them when the Legion did find them. Had they not yet learned that Elune was full of many surprises? Silly people.
Alnacia bowed her head at the statue. She still had remaining sparks of hope left, but they were fading. Many priests, mages, warriors, and various other human and night elves thought the same.
Elune has abandoned her. All Elune has done is cry and make very little plant life sprout from the dead ground. This is insanity, yet she still hopes for assistance from the Goddess. Why can't she just learn that she is alone?
"Alnacia," Brinic began. "I have been meaning to talk to you about your sister, Tryandie." Tryandie was Alnacia's young sister. Tryandie was a few years younger than Alnacia and was more lively. Tryandie had just begun her training when news of the Burning Legion had come. Of course, the poor dear was still training in Shadowglen when the Burning Legion had invaded. No one was there to protect Shadowglen, so everyone who had been there perished. Tryandie had disappeared, her body was never found.
Tryandie had always had low self-confidence. She always wanted to prove herself to the Council. Now, that day would never come. Alnacia felt responsible, she believed that she should've been there. Others say that this is nonsense, no one knew that the Burning Legion had risen until it was too late. The druids were the first to die in the Emerald Dream. It was simply impossible to reach the small town in time.
Tears formed at Alnacia's precious eyes. "She died with the rest of the novices. It is time to move on." She choked with the remaining dignity she had left. This was fools' talk when it came from the priestess. She never forgot the day Shadowglen was invaded. The same day when she learned that there was only a handful of survivors. The day when Tryandie's beautiful, dark purple strands of hair and glorious, clear blue eyes disappeared.
"I have heard rumors," Brinic continued casually. "That she is alive." Alnacia's sorrow turned to frustration. Her eyes glimmered with anger. She turned to face the night elf with milky skin.
"Rumors? You have been listening to rumors! I cannot concern myself with ridiculous rumors and you shouldn't be listening to such rubbish!" Her arms folded together and she turned back to her previous position. She looked down. Brinic took one step forward and put one of his white hands on her shoulder. Without looking up, Alnacia lifted her left hand and placed it on Brinic's. She sighed.
"Could it be true?" She said quietly without realizing it.
"The sentinels have reported seeing a figure similar to Tryandie near Shadow Thread Cave, but the spiders haven't retreated and they were afraid to go near the cave." Brinic said. Alnacia scowled.
Cowards. This word repeated in her head several times. How could they be afraid of a group of spiders? Weren't the sentinels supposed to save the remaining night elves? Unfortunately, there was no proof that her sister was alive. She removed her hand from his and turned to the entrance of the temple. She quickly walked outside.
"Wha-What are you doing?" Brinic asked, following her.
"If I am to believe this rumor, I must find my sister myself." Alnacia's voice had an urgent tone.
"But--" He began, but he knew it was hopeless. Alnacia wouldn't stop until she learned the truth about her sister.
---
The stale air filled Alnacia's lungs. The rotting stench died down after weeks and weeks of decay. It had been six days since she had departed from Darnassus. Along the path she met many corpses. Most were just piles that resembled torn rags. She didn't bring any supplies except for her staff. She feared that if there were any felbeasts left, they would be attracted to the smell of food.
Eventually, she came to Dolanaar, another ruined town that was beautiful and proud. The inn had collapsed, and few buildings still stood. As she continued to her destination, she heard soft rustling in the bushes. Suddenly, something leaped at her and struck her in the chest. Alnacia let out a short scream as she fell on the brown, cracked surface. A hound-like creature with long, gray tentacles was on top of her. One of the tentacles was cut off. Alnacia shot a beam at Holy Light at it. It was the first action that came to her mind. A pained yelp escaped the felbeast and it jumped off. While the night elf struggled to get on her feet, the felbeast prepared for another attack. It latched one tentacle onto her. Alnacia noticed that she felt weaker, then her eyes widened.
The tentacles! They're draining my powers!
Out of nowhere, something struck the felbeast. The tentacle ripped off of Alnacia's skin and she fell to the ground again. She was too dizzy to stand up, but she was able to see what had attacked the demonic hound. Another felbeast, who was in worse shape and as thin as a stick had attacked its own ally. Perhaps the widespread famine had hurt more than the superior races of Azeroth. Perhaps without souls to feed off of the Burning Legion was dying too.
The weak night elf wobbled to her feet. After one bleak hour of falling and limping to her sister's supposed sanctuary, she fell in front of the gates that led to Shadowglen. Breathing heavily, she looked ahead. Her eyes switched from hope to uncertainty.
Ruination.
Plant life was gone in this barren land. No nightsabers or thistle boars fed here. The stench of death was worse than ever before. Bodies laid in sprawled positions and some had been maimed. The blood running down the hills was now dry and stained the earth. No scavengers went near the repulsive landscape. Alnacia almost swore that she was in Hell. Ashes suggested an awful inferno that destroyed the forest. Alnacia reached forward, her legs felt numb. Then, out of nowhere, a gentle, smooth hand embraced Alnacia's bloody one.
Alnacia was certain that her heart stopped at that moment and she couldn't breathe. Before her, a gorgeous night elf with awesome, blue eyes and tangled violet hair knelt down before her. A soft smile plagued the young elf's lip. Her arms had long scratches on them, but they were now faint scars. Her magenta robe was torn badly, but was still able to cover most of her body. She was now so thin that you could partially see her ribs.
Tryandie.
Tears of joy leaked out of Alnacia's eyes.
Tryandie put a mellow look on her face "Sister, is that you?" The scars from battle had made the eldest of the two look almost unrecognizable.
Alnacia stammered. "Y-Y-Yes." Silence passed between the two has the war-torn world around them seemed to stop. Two sisters had been united. "I'm so glad that you are okay."
"I thought I'd never see you again!" Tryandie cried. They then embraced in a warm hug. Then, rain began pouring from the sky, turning the ash and the ruined earth around them to mud.
Elune was crying for her children again.