I think I was once beautiful
XxX
Summary: He was a naïve warlock only in battle because he had to be. She was a nameless warrior that told him a story. It took years, but the warlock finally realized it wasn't a story. It was a hope, a tale, a truth.
AN- Short one-shot that just occurred to me. I hope you enjoy, and if you don't…well…I guess you don't. Doesn't really have an expansion pack time period. And, well… I don't think this is a kind of story that has a lot of 'twists' pretty straightforward, and you'll probably be able to guess ending. *sigh* don't own WoW.
XxX
"For the Horde!" A troll cried out, battle axe raised and expression fierce. Xavier nodded solemnly, not wanting to get involved, however, he did not want discourage the flame of the Horde. The flame was a battle they did not want to extinguish, or lose the heat of.
Xavier slowly summoned his felguard, black magic threateningly clouding around him. Some people were scared of him, fearing his mighty curses in battle. Many people respected him though, knowing he was a dangerous ally, and an even worse enemy. He sharp features got him noticed by the ladies, bright green eyes, black hair pulled back into a ponytail swinging back and forth as he would cast his spells.
Xavier noticed an undead warrior hanging behind him, helm covering her face as she leaned back against the wall, the heavy metal shield jutting into her back in such a fashion, it made Xavier shudder.
He made his way back to her, wondering why she was so….uninterested in the battle for Warsong Gulch. He stood beside her for a second, wondering why he even came back here. The helm moved up and looked at him, and the warlock knew the warrior was staring.
"What do you want?" The voice was ragged and scratchy, as though she didn't care what people thought of her, and in all honesty, she probably didn't.
"I was just," Xavier gave a frustrated sigh as he tried to find the words. "I was just wondering what you were doing back here."
The warrior laughed, like she was shocked someone even noticed. "Listen kid, we aren't here to learn about the dark pasts of each other. Not saying that's how I am, but just get ready for battle."
The words were well spoken, wise and knowing. Xavier narrowed his eyes, long, pale ears twitching, knowing this woman thought of him as a naïve child that did not know the real world.
Xavier knew to choose his next words carefully, knowing fully that a slip-up could cost him dearly. "Well, asking you why you weren't getting ready for battle does not necessarily mean I'm digging for some hidden secrets."
"You got me kid." The undead sounded like she was smiling, outsmarted of her own game. "Listen, you survive this and I'll buy you a drink. We can talk then. Deal?" It was a game, and Xavier won.
The warrior drew her shield as the group charged out of the base, and calling their trusted raptors and horses. Xavier ran after her as the woman mounted her skeletal horse.
"See ya on the other side kid."
The battle has begun.
XxX
The warlock swung his staff wildly, pleased when it landed on the opposing mage's head, knocking him clean out. The blood elf quickly finished him off, and he ran to assist a priest being killed by a rogue.
Xavier fought as hard as he did on his first day, wondering how he could muster this much passion and strength now, and not just on any other battle he fought.
It was normal for him to fight, but after his very first battle, he realized war sucked, and he was never really excited to go to battle again and again. And Again.
But now he supposed he had a reason to make it out of there alive, not die in a stupid, Leave Me behind, heroic way.
He had to listen to what an important, smart, and mysterious stranger had to say. She was confident she was going to make it out of there, so confident she told the warlock she'd be waiting.
The warlock sucked in a deep breath, and charged into another fight.
And Again.
XxX
She didn't know why she did it. She told him to make it out of there, which was odd, considering she didn't want to make it out there. The only reason she hasn't died yet was because she wanted to die heroically, not by some lame shaman or paladin. She wanted to overcome by them, taking down so many that they'd regret messing with her. She realized she was intimidating, imposing, even scary.
But she was respected for it. No one would laugh behind her back, or make a snide remark about being angry. Quite honestly, that is how warriors fought. They got angry.
She didn't even really want to get involved with a faction again, the last time proved fatal and blowing. She still had the scar to prove that frightful day.
But the warrior did not like to be frightened, so instead she frightened others, carrying around a battle axe like she was so high and mighty. The thing she hated most, was that people actually fell for it.
The undead woman saved a mage from death, by slaying a warlock in mid-spell.
They got Angry.
XxX
To say the Horde lost was an understatement. They got slaughtered. In all honesty, the Alliance outmaneuvered them, outsmarted them, out played them.
The warrior was as shocked to see the warlock survive as the warlock with she.
But the undead woman kept her word, and she led him to a nearby tavern.
XxX
It was a rundown, shabby, old place, lone stragglers occupying the wooden tables, beaten down and rebuilt. They got a table in the back where no one would have the chance to overhear them, yet close enough so the barmaids knew they were there.
"Come here often?" Xavier asked as the warrior caught the attention of a troll waitress. The undead took off her helm, and Xavier sucked in a small breath at the sight.
In all honesty she was ugly. Her hair was matted down with sweat and grime, with no shine whatsoever. The skin on her cheeks seemed to fall off her face, and her nose was crooked like a fairytale witch's. Her eyes were dull and seemed to like they once sparkled, but that was a long time ago. The only color on her sickly pale green skin was a pink scar, mostly covered by the dark hair that cut across the ear, and the warlock only caught a glimpse of it.
The warrior shrugged her arms, like she knew why he was staring and like she was used to it. She then signaled for Xavier to tell the troll what they wanted. They hastily ordered, and the drinks came rather quickly, seeing as the tavern was practically empty.
Xavier was constantly looking over his shoulder, the warrior noticed. It was useful in battle, but annoying as crap any other time. The undead woman gave him a small glare, and the warlock smiled sheepishly in apology.
She rolled her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips. This blood elf was…refreshing. Like a shiny new toy, and it almost made the warrior shake and yell until he felt as broken as she did.
She calmed herself down, having been used to these rapid mood swings quite quickly.
"Want to here a story kid?" she asked him, voice much stronger. Of course, Xavier knew that even if he said no she was going to tell somebody about it.
So the warlock shrugged, and it didn't even occur to him they never introduced themselves. But he also shrugged that off.
"I had," the warrior paused, deeply thinking. "A friend. A friend who hated death and would fight. But she didn't realize that not even death was a way out."
XxX
The purple hair was tossed into a careless ponytail as she desperately began healing her falling comrades. She cast every spell she knew to keep them alive.
She would strike out at any scourge that would come to close, but for every one they killed, five would take its place.
At the very beginning it seemed they would win, they penetrated the first line of defense in the Lich King's citadel.
But soon after they realized it was a horrible mistake, and it wasn't long until only the shy, priestess and a few paladins were left.
"We have to retreat!" she cried out, swinging her staff wildly. But they just kept coming, it only got worse. They were out of mana, out of support, and out of hope.
"Go! I'll-I'll try to keep them back!" A brave holy warrior yelled, taking a defensive stance in front of the small group. The priestess closed her eyes and said out a prayer for him.
"I bless you brother." She murmured, and with the last of her strength, cast a protective bubble around him. He turned around, but the look in his eyes haunted her.
He had given up on hope, knowing he was committing suicide. And he was OK with that, as long as someone survived, and death seemed like his only option.
She turned and ran, trying to block out the screams of pain of those dying and those in pain.
She hated death.
XxX
The warrior took a deep swig of her drink before continuing. Xavier forgot all about his drink and stared at the warrior with such intensity, she felt he knew little of what she was talking about, like a curious child listening to a fairytale, asking if it was real.
But she would not respond with a 'of course, just believe', and her story would not end with a happily ever after.
"Nobody survived that day lived. They were all killed and risen as forsaken, under the command of the Lich King, until the Banshee Queen freed us-her." She stumbled for a second, recovering so quickly it never occurred to Xavier to be suspicious.
XxX
Don't listen, don't listen, you are a priestess, holy and-and-the paladin, my-my memories! It was the first time the newly risen priestess could remember her former life, and it came rushing back at her it hurt.
She remembered her little sister. She had to break free. And she knew how, she would go secretly with Sylvanas, no one would ever know.
XxX
The nameless storyteller still held up impressively somber. "So she broke free. After years and years and years," her voice began to rise, "She broke the bonds of the Lich King! She was free, and she set off to Stormwind, to see her family, and more importantly-be accepted into the Alliance again."
She seemed to wince a little, Xavier noticed. Heck, he would mad too.
XxX
The gates of Stormwind rose out of the ground, high, mighty, a palace of happiness and relief. The priestess cried at the sight of it, knowing her little sister was inside the proud city.
Happy 5th birthday Serena.
It was silent chime in her head, and she always kept count. Always, always, always. Life was never that way, and apparently neither was death.
"Serena!" She cried out, yelling, running up the path, as if by chance her little sister could hear her. Several human guards surrounded her, swords drawn. She smiled at them.
"Leave monster." a guard spat. The woman frowned. She was human! She had an opinion, and she was breathing.
"Why?" she demanded, every reminisce of a smile gone. She didn't hesitate to shoot a few of them a cold, hard stare.
"You are not welcome here." he said, lips pulled into an ugly snarl.
"I am human!" she cried, refusing to back down. Her sister was in there, and by every thing she knew, she was going to get in there!
"You are sick, twisted, demented demon of a human, damned by the Lich King himself!"
Eyes wide in horror, one of the guards drew his sword, and struck.
XxX
"Did she live?" Xavier asked cluelessly, practically jumping out of his seat. The warrior raised an eyebrow at his behavior.
"No. She was struck down by that light-damned guard. Wouldn't have mattered, her sister died of some sort of disease, and so they buried side by side. Huh, at least some respect."
"Oh. Sorry." the blood elf looked down, not wanting to share his sympathy for the hardened war veteran. "But.." he hesitated, not meeting her eyes.
"What?" she asked softly, and the warlock looked up, smiling sheepishly again.
He had one question, only one, so he asked.
"What is your name?" he leaned it, not breaking the stare. She smiled at this.
"Kiddo, what my name is doesn't matter. In a few years, you'll know." she slammed down some silver on the table, collected her helm, and patted his head like he was only a little elf-ling.
It was only until she was walking out the door did Xavier notice the weight on her shoulders, the battles she had been in finally taking a toll on her undead body. She walked with a slight limp, and her arm would dangle down, never put under much stress.
The raven haired man leaned back in his chair, pulling his lips into a thin line. He wasn't pleased, he hadn't learned anything.
He didn't know what to do.
XxX
He was back at where he started, Warsong Gulch, preparing for battle yet again. He had taken three years off to be with his family in Silvermoon, feeling that was what the warrior was trying to tell him. He turned around, almost expecting to see that helm covering a small head, shield thrown on back carelessly.
Nobody was there, and Xavier tried to clear his head of those useless thought. He went back to the daunting task of summoning a demon, feeling the dark magic around yet again.
He spun around only once more, and saw an orc leaning back against the wall.
The story came rushing back at him almost painfully, and realization dawned down on him.
He figured out what he needed to do.
XxX
It was a sad bunch of flowers really. Being a warlock, it was hard to find life that wouldn't hide or wither away from his deathlike touch.
He was right beside the majestic city of Stormwind, where murder of one of his own took place. He shuddered at the thought, and stealthily slunk around for the graveyard.
It wasn't hard to find, the gray tombstones marking it as a place of death. He scoured the marble carving, until finding Serena, and she died at the age of four.
It made him sick to think that, even though she was a human, she could have become a powerful mage, terrifying warlock, holy paladin, kind priestess, she had a life ahead of her, and she was dead.
What truly confused Xavier was the empty spot beside her.
"That light damned sword."
"She freed us-her."
The only color on her face, a pink faded scar.
"Kiddo what my name is doesn't matter."
Her voice rose, "She broke the bonds of the Lich King!"
She seemed to wince.
"But more importantly, to be accepted into the Alliance again."
"I had," the warrior paused. "A friend. I had a friend."
It all made sense. The former priestess gave up on the light, becoming a warrior by fueling that hidden anger.
It was like that pink scar on the side of her face. When you saw it, it impacted you, but she was good at hiding it, keeping it buried deep, but one glimpse brought it to the surface, and you never forgot it.
Xavier wracked his brain hard, knowing he missed part of what she said. It was as she was leaving, only a whisper and the warlock thought harder than he ever had in his entire life.
He knew what she said, and he knew what she taught her know.
"I think…I think I was once beautiful."