Storm clouds began to gather overhead in the skies of the Ghostlands as Blood Knight Harei raced along the cobbled, muddied road atop his Thalassian Charger. Rain started to fall, soaking him and the crimson-clad mare, as droplets began forming along the tip of the Blood Elves' Hood. Harei shuddered as he felt the damp entering the inside of his scarlet armour, and spurred his mount to ride faster. Anar'alah belore, this weather is fierce!
As the Charger galloped, spraying puddle water in all directions, Harei heard a wail. A spine-tingling, agonizing wailing. Scourge, Harei thought.
Only a banshee could be loud enough for its cry to be heard through a storm such as this. Wary, the Knight dismounted from his charger and unsheathed his golden jewel-encrusted mace and his shield, stamped with the blood-red wings that heralded The Order of the Blood Knights. While he, unlike many of his more aggressive fellows, preferred to rely on magic rather than physical weapons (and being one of the few Master-ranked Knights who had made a name for himself through manipulating the Light to cleanse souls and heal wounds), even the weakest banshees dark scream could easily shred through him without the defence of his enchanted shield. Nonetheless, focusing his mind, he prepared himself for the possibility of an ambush and the need for a sudden divine Exorcism – the undead recoil at even contact with Holy energy, thus making his order welcome in the assistance of clearing the remaining scourge strongholds throughout the elven kingdom. Not that they would.
As of late, now that the dreaded Lich King had been slain, his scourge army had crumbled into small bands of undead, their lethal locust-like war tactics all but forgotten. Harei had even overheard some of his fellow Knights claiming it was a waste of their talents to slay disorganised ghouls and reanimated bones when they could be fighting the Alliance. Even now, his people still sorely blamed the Alliance for the near-annihilation of their race, insisting that rather than flee, their human neighbours could have banded together with the elves in attempt to drive off the scourge. Not that it mattered now. Wondering about alternate solutions for the problems of the past is a fools' ideal. My remaining kin are The Children of the Blood – everyone else who once called this land home is either rotting, attempting to claim Quel'thalas for their own, or both. The countless numbers of High Elves who were slaughtered in the fall of Quel'thalas were not granted the peace of death – no, the Scourge had to corrupt his kin and make them break down the gates protecting those who they once loved. Fathers, Mothers, Children – it mattered not to the Scourge. Every elf fallen was another cog in the war machine of death itself. I would not be surprised to see if this Banshee I'm hunting was one of the first defenders of Quel'thalas to fall.
And even then, the desperate elves who had managed to stay hidden and survive the onslaught collided in ideals – some still foolishly believed that the Alliance would come to their aid, while many felt betrayed. Abandoned. Alone. Those still faithful to the Alliance refused to cast aside the name of High Elf and live for those who died, and sought out the pockets of Humans who still survived in the south. A piercing screech tore through Harei's thoughts. There it is. Shuffling along the muddied path. The creature, unlike most undead, seemed more pitiful then horrifying. It was clearly once an elven woman – it had a spectral, torn dress, the trailing strands sliding along the mud. Her hair was floating, as if submerged. Her face may have once been beautiful, but her ghostly form made it hard to make out the details on her face. While Banshees are manifestations of a dead woman's soul, dark magic allows them to harm anything in contact with its unnatural muttered a silent prayer and he felt the Light surge through him and form in a dazzling display in his hands palm. And not a moment too soon. The Banshee hissed at the sudden display of light, and shot towards him, its jagged bone claws, once an elf's soft hands, ready to slash his chest. Harei smoothly blocked the strike, staggering the creature, and unleashed the bolt of energy up-close. He watched as the pulse of light travelled through the banshee, dissolving its unholy form and finally ending the lost soul's misery. With a final shriek from the spirit, the forest grove they had fought in grew silent, save for the sound of falling rain. "May you find peace in the warmth of The Light." Harei began the walk back to his charger. The mare's armour was blessed with holy light, causing it to become easily seen through the darkness. As he began to mount, he spurred his mare to gallop, though he could see little through the darkness. There seemed to be a void in front of him, and try as he might, he couldn't see. As Harei was just about to begin slowing the charger, the beast whinnied in distress and then Harei realised he was falling. Before he could cry out, he heard snapping branches and his body free falling before landing abruptly in a cold, muddy, sludge. Everything went dark.
"Master, why must they be so aggressive?" The young initiate asked as he watched the other Blood Knight kick the man on the floor on the other side of The Walk of Elders. The grounded elf whimpered, as his eyes, meant to be bright and glowing like the rest of his kind but instead a pale and sickly green, began to stream with tears. "Please… the hunger… I must feed…the pain… th-OOF!" His superior, Altheren Fireheart, looked down at Harei as if his initiate had just insulted him.
"He is a thief, a criminal, Harei. He was caught stealing mana-crystals from the royal warehouse. He is no longer one of us. He is well on his way to becoming Wretched." Wretched are elves that have been unable to tame their addiction to magic, being driven to feed. They often start out stealing from mana-crystal stores as this man had, but as they allow themselves to be overcome by their need, they quickly lose sanity and see anything magical, from a mana-lantern to another elf, as sustenance. It is often considered nessecery to slay those with clear signs of degeneration, but Harei thought he wasn't dangerous yet.
"Couldn't we just… lock him up?" Harei asked.
"What? So he could fill precious liveable space and eat our food, just to eventually begin howling in his cell while scratching the walls? That is madness, boy. Come now, your Blood Knight Training is due to begin in minutes." With that, the elf began to walk briskly down the summer-red toned cobblestone road, Harei at his heels – but not before stealing one last glance at the beaten-down thief being dragged away. It was a beautiful day in the magnificent city of Silvermoon, and golden-brown leaves fell from the path-side trees in The Royal Exchange. Such as it always was. The mystical kingdom of Quel'thalas, and its cities, was enchanted, a natural haven of magic. It existed in an eternal autumn, always glorious, like its people.
"Now, as a Blood Knight, you will be expected to represent the goals of the Sin'dorei. Glory for our people. Prosperity for the future. But most of all, Justice for our people. You shall protect the law-obeying citizens against scourge, wild beast, and anything, or anyone, who might threaten us. You shall live for those who fell to defend our home, even though their sacrifices were for naught. We are not the "gallant" Alliance knights who casually stroll around, preaching about tempered action and the Law." He spat the word gallant. "Yes, we may support the law, but they are fools. Survival is critical for our people. To survive, we need power. For power, we must make personal sacrifices." As he was listening to his Master, Harei glanced around the large open space. Blood Elves, their emerald eyes always burning, his people. The people he would serve. Merchants called for passers-by to stop at their stalls, young elven women laughed and talked in little circles under the shade of a tree, while a red-faced man with cropped black hair hoisted a brown sack of mail over his shoulder, walking to each mailbox to gather more. A postman? I hope so. He will be unlucky if otherwise. It also seemed that nearby Guards had taken notice as well, and were approaching with their large rune-scribed staff-blades glinting in the sun. The mail-elf brushed past Harei and then began to sprint, as Guards yelled to each other to flank him. People are tense. The future is bright, however. Our prince will deliver us to the otherworldly paradise.Fireheart ignored the event.
They stopped outside The Hall of Blood. "And here we are, boy. You shall learn how to control the power of The Light within these halls, learn how to use it to smite those who would do your people injustice. And now... you must see our source." Fireheart led him into the hall, where other elves near his age stopped their conversations to peer at him with their bright eyes. They were wearing the Blood Knight Initiate uniform, just as him. Walking up stairs, they met Lady Liadrin, the Grand Matriarch of the Blood Knight Order. "My lady! Initiate, kneel before your leader. Quickly!"
"Altheren, he is just an Initiate. He knows not our customs. Stand up, boy. What is your name?"
"H-Harei, my Lady."
At that, Liadrin smiled. She had a warm smile, and she was younger then Harei would have thought the matriarch would be, but her face seemed weary. "Tell me, Harei, what is your purpose for joining my order?"
Harei was unsure about answering. He knew clearly why he wished to join, but recent actions by members of the order made him anxious about revealing it, that they might laugh in his face. "I want to protect my people, and heal their wounds with the power of the Light."
"Do you? Why, that is a noble goal. Many of our members tend to be more...Impulsive. Fireheart, return to your duties. I shall show the Initiate the source myself."
Being shown the source by the Grand Matriarch herself? What has she seen in me that she feels the need to do this? Harei pondered this as he was led through winding scarlet corridors lit by mystical blue fires in alcoves in the walls to his left and right. Then he entered a large, circular chamber. Enormous golden statues of blood elven magisters stared into the center of the room, which was surprisingly busy. And there it was. A large crystalline being of pure holy energy. It hovered in mid-air, and beams of energy were constantly attached to it. Where one faded, another replaced it. And leading his eyes from the beams to the things causing them, he saw Blood Elves. Blood Knights. The Order.
The elves forming the beams were twitching, and their faces were the very picture of ecstasy. By all that is holy! Their draining its energy! His face must have looked horrified, as Liadrin placed her hand on his shoulder. "Look at this creature, Harei. Tell me what you see. Tell me what you feel about this – honestly."
"I…I see a Holy being, the very essence of the Light, being restrained and drained. Tortured."
"That… may all be true." Liadrin sighed. "But our people are desperate. The Light has abandoned us. It allowed death itself to swarm over us and blight our kingdom. And it allowed the Sunwell, our source of magic – our way of life – to be destroyed. How can we reclaim what is rightfully ours, without our magic? We have no other options left. We must have power to protect our people. Never forget that. Is it wrong for a nation of millions to survive off the imprisonment of one?" Liadrin stared at Harei, unblinking. "The order shall teach you how to defend your kin from the evils of this world. And if you so choose, you may learn how to heal the wounds of our injured and preserve our way of life. Come, now. I shall teach you myself." As she said this, she motioned for Harei to follow her through a different doorway, the soft humming growing fainter every step.
"Matriarch?"
"Yes, Initiate?"
"I wish to protect my people. But I do not believe the Light has abandoned us."
"You do? Interesting. You have promise and spirit, Young Harei. I look forward to seeing how you progress."
A whinny woke Harei up. His head throbbed, and the Ghostlands canopy seemed to swim before his eyes. Getting up, Harei saw that the rain had stopped, and dawn was on the horizon. More importantly, he seemed to have miraculously avoided any serious injuries. "Thank the Light," he said aloud, and peered up the ridge he and his mount had fallen from. At the bottom, He saw his horse, attempting to roll off its side, but its leg was bloodied. Your wounded, my friend. Despite being tired, bruised, and wanting nothing more than to return to Silvermoon, he focused his mind and felt the familiar ebbing of Holy energy coursing throughout his body, and a tingling in his hands, before he released a glowing shower of golden mist which formed around the chargers leg. Its whinnying subsided, and in minutes of channelling the magic, the mare could stand up. Smiling, Harei mounted his charger and patted its head gently. "Home". As he leaned back and spurred the mare, the Thalassian sun shone through the canopy and Blood Knight Harei rode off, the golden banks of Eversong Woods in the distance. His Home.