The land was tainted red and scarred. Time and the events that occurred upon this land had not been kind to both the foliage and the fauna that lived in the area, which were hostile towards any that approached them, and some were even tainted by the flows of whatever magic remained within the air.

A young night elf who was mounted atop a large snowy frostsaber, slowly led the feline further into the lands and amongst the ruins. The cat's ears were flattened and she was cautiously prowling along the land with the crisp and dead grass crunching beneath her large padded paws.

Unlike his feline companion, the elf held onto his composure. His darkened face had a grim line of determination on it as the two of them passed by a set of broken marble pillars which was once a line of columns before a great building.

Golden eyes gazed over the pillars, and for a moment, the elf saw movement among them. No humanoid was making the motions though, but instead the wispy and fluid motions belonged to angered spirits and ghosts. The hand of a banshee outstretched towards the elf and his mount before it lamented in agony towards them.

The feline instinctively flinched and let a low growl form at the back of her throat before the elf gently patted the mount upon her head with a hand of his. "Calm down, Ralnea. She cries for a reason."

Ralnea snorted before lurking onwards towards their destination. The further they made their way onto the corrupted lands, the worse the scene became. More ruined marble structures, more wailing ghosts, and the occassional satyr encampment was passed until the frostsaber was able to reach a large clearing and the elf tugged on her reins.

He dismounted from the large feline before heaving an exasperated sigh, as though to steady himself for the task ahead. A large bag was then unfastened from the side of the sadle and placed upon the scarred earth.

Ears still flattened and hackles still raised, Ralnea watched herself and her owner vigilantly, only to be frightened by a passing gust of wind that ran along her white and black fur, which caused her to jump and hiss at nothing that was before her.

"Alright, I won't keep you." The elf said towards her as he watched the feline. Before proceeding further with removing the contents of his bag, the night elf busied himself with removing the reins from the cat. "Be very careful, Ralnea. I wouldn't trust these lands even if they were to ever be purified."

The second the leather straps were removed from her shoulders, the frostsaber let out a sound in appreciation before she loped off in one direction, where the ocean was, leaving her owner on his own to his work.

Watching his mount take off, the elf sighed. "I had to get stuck with this task, didn't I?" The bag was unravelled and a few strange instruments were placed upon the scorched grass.

The elf didn't like being here. He felt that there was no right to come to a land of the dead, a land that his own people cursed thousands of years ago through their own greed and lust. Azshara. Named after the most vain and vile queen that could have ever existed. Even thousands of years after the sundering of the well of eternity, the land still did not heal itself here. The magical energies which were once so richly found within this land, now strayed and filled the air, cocooning it with magical properties which helped to curse the fauna of the lands.

But even as the land was not able to heal after thousands of years after the sundering, nor were the night elves able to heal. They had moved on and banished the Highborne for their treacherous acts after they gave in to the seduction of the magic - and brough hell onto Kalimdor. Teaching in the druidic arts by Malfurion Stormrage took over as well, arts that this particular elf was still learning and adapting to. Even after all of that had come to pass, his people still shrouded their world within a layer of secrecy to this day.

There were times where the elf wondered if those Highborne, which were cast out on specially crafted ships, ever found a homeland. Or did they simply fall into the Maelstrom that they helped to create? Was the other section of land which split off of Kalimdor with the well's implosion found? Were those Highborne still alive?

"Concentrate ..." The elf muttered lowly to himself as he closed his eyes and balled his fists in an attempt to regain the composure that he had before the questions came. A moment passed before his eyes re-opened and his hands relaxed. The male night elf then began to set up his instruments and proceed with his work.

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There was a howl. This one didn't belong to any ghost or banshee, nor of the wildlife that lived in the corrupted lands, but from Ralnea herself. The elf snapped his head up in the direction of the howl and saw the large saber rushing towards him. Her howls told him that she was anything but happy.

"Ralnea, what is it?" The elf questioned her. The feline found the leather reins of hers upon the grass by her owner's feet. She lifted them up with her large teeth and pushed them towards her owner, indicating for him to strap on and mount up.

If there was one thing that the druid learned through his studies, it was to always follow the animals, especially if they were distressed. The leather straps and saddle were replaced on the saber before the elf mounted atop of Ralnea and grasped the reins within a firm grip. "Show me." The feline yowled as she then took off towards the ocean with her owner to show him what was so distressing...

When they had reached the shore, more ruins laid scattered amongst the water, this of an actual city though. But that was not what was bothering the saber so much. The closer they got to the disturbance, the slower her pace became until it was nothing more than a prowl.

The elf's eyes narrowed as he tried to see what was wrong, but to him, everything about the area rang off in his mind as being immediately wrong. As he gazed ahead of himself, he then saw a figure appear in the distance. It was a figure that was small, sprawled across the wet sand, and did not move. The closer the saber and her mount got to the figure, the more that the elf was able to make out what it was. Slowly it came more and more into focus until...

"By Elune!" Tiradis gasped as he jumped off of Ralnea's back and rushed towards the figure, which turned out to be a small and lifeless body. It's hair was covered in branches of seaweed and it's clothing was still damp, so it had not been here for too long.

Ralnea approached the body after her owner had reached it and in a gentle motion that showed concern for the being in question, she lightly nudged the side of the body with the tip of her nose until she was able to turn the body onto it's back.

There was another gasp as the elf's golden eyes looked between the body's and that of his saber's. "We should not be here."

The feline's eyes narrowed at her owner and she snorted gruffly in objection.

"Ralnea. I - I can get in trouble for even helping this ... this thing!" The elf was stunned at the sight before him. At first he thought it was a nightelven child, but the body's skin was light and pale. The hair was of a light mox of blonde and red. Yet, the features were long and elven in descent, which included the ears, which were smaller than the druid's, but were still large and upright.

Again the feline snorted and this time she showed her objection by laying down before the small body and refused to move from it.

The elf grasped ahold of the saber's reins and tugged on them. "Ralnea, this is no joke. Do you want me to get into trouble for this? We are in isolation, I can be inprisoned for finding and helping an outsider."

Ralnea growled as her owner tugged at the leather reins, but she did not move or even shift her large weight from where she laid on the wet sand beside the body.

Finally, the elf stopped and let go of the reins. He cast his eyes downwards towards the sand below his feet for a moment as his mind wandered and his heart raced. The elf had seen what happened to those that attempted to break the night elf law, which only became stricter with the years coming after the sundering and exile of the Highborne. He had seen his friends firsthand be thrown into prisons deep below the earth for even speaking of demons and wanting to practice magics which were able to bend fire and ice to their will. What feared the druid more than anything was that he himself would end up inprisonned for mentioning something wrong, or treading across the wrong people.

Yet, his druidic duties also tell him to aide those in need, especially if there is no Priestess of Elune around to help. So, the druid opened his eyes and gazed down at his frostsaber, who was now licking at the face of the small pale being, trying to stir any reaction from it, but only getting nothing in return.

With hesitation in his step, the druid approached both the saber and the body and then knelt before the pale figure while uttering words that only the druids knew. They were words that spoke directly to the earth and Elune at once and asked for their help and guidance. He asked the forces to aide him in healing this being if she was worthy, and then he lightly pressed a hand against her forehead while placing the other at her stomach.

There was nothing, and despite himself, the elf felt sadness tug at his heart. He removed his hands and looked towards the saber, "I tried. I do not think that I can help her. I do not have the power to."

Before the elf was able to stand away from the figure though, there was a wheezing sound which was following by coughing. Water suddenly sputtered out of the pale female's mouth and she winced in pain, yet her eyes remained closed, and she barely made an attempt to move out of weakness.

Jumping to their feet, both the elf and his mount Ralnea watched the figure go through all of the motions. A small smirk appeared on the druid's face as relief overcame him. "Alright, Ralnea, I'll help it, whatver it is, because you wanted me to."

There was no objection there. The saber was quiet, but her bright green eyes were large and looked thankful. Her owner then scooped up the small figure within his arms before he mounted the saber once more and grasped the reins with a few empty fingers of his. "Take us home, Ralnea, and hurry. Do your best to keep us unnoticed."

A roar echoed from the saber. She turned on her heels and then loped back towards the mainland to where their home was