The two hunters on their kodos were galloping too fast for me to keep up. I ran behind them crying, "Slow down!"
They paused their mounts and turned in their saddles, resplendent in their shining chain-mail armor. I ran up to them. "Let me rest for just a moment," I said, leaning on my knees to catch my breath.
One of the hunters sighed in exasperation. "This is a waste of time. We don't need a messenger."
"I'm not just a messenger… if you found the night elf… I could… heal you," I said, gasping.
"Right. When did you say you'd left Camp Narache again? Yesterday?"
"Last week," I said, indignantly.
He started to say something sharp but the second hunter cut him off, "Leave her alone, Sern. Baine wanted everyone to help in the search, even the youngest and most useless." He smiled down at me. I glared up at him.
Sern grunted, spurred his kodo, and rode on without looking back. I scowled and watched him go, still leaning on my knees.
After a hundred yards he reined in his mount and dismounted. He peered at the ground, "Got a trace, Rakni!" he shouted to the other hunter.
Rakni and I hurried to the spot. I couldn't see anything. Sern pointed out some blades of bent grass, and beneath them, a few dark crumbs.
"Kaldorei spider kabobs," he said. "Elf lunch."
I wrinkled my nose.
Sern squinted at the ground. "It went north after this. We'll need to travel fast if we hope to catch it." He wheeled around to face me, "Now, you, time to earn your keep. Run back to Bloodhoof and tell Baine we have an elf heading northwest into Mulgore. Scoot."
I crouched into cheetah form and bounded toward the road.
"Don't come back," Sern shouted after me. "We'll be moving too fast for you."
I fumed as I dashed off on my errand. I wanted to do more than this.
Night elves around the village were a problem. Silent as the great cats they rode, they attacked by night and by day, loosing arrows at my people, murdering and maiming. They were frequent guerilla attackers, and I had learned to hate them even during my short tenure in the village. One had been spotted on the outskirts of Bloodhoof Village earlier in the day, and Baine had deployed almost the entire able-bodied population of the village to hunt for it. But messenger? Surely I could do more than this! I grumbled into my whiskers.
Ahead of me I saw a group of wolves circling a mass in the road. I slowed my pace. Three wolves were circling around a huddle of clothing, darting in, snapping, darting out. The figure's arm swung weakly at them.
"Hey!" I shouted, lifting out of cheetah form. The wolves shied back from me. I bounded into the middle of the group. The wolves scattered. My hooves slipped on dark, shiny fluid.
The figure at my feet was Morin Cloudstalker. My heart pounded – I saw him every day! Morin had been rent apart with great claws. There was a disorienting void where his stomach should have been. Dark loops spilled on the ground. My chest tightened. His whole body vibrated with pain and shock; he whimpered and moaned through chattering teeth. I could sense the depth of his injury, I could feel the blood hissing from severed vessels deep within. I knelt and took his hand.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw red, feline footprints leading away. I had seen prints like those before: they were the marks of a night elf druid in panther form.
Morin gazed up at me, his eyes wide with fear and pain. My free hand glowed faintly green as I tried to heal him, but I was no match for the bleeding.
Don't die, Morin… Please don't die. I can't do this… I'm too weak.
The wolves had regrouped and were watching me, hackles raised, heads lowered. The fur around their mouths was stained dark red. My stomach turned.
One wolf approached me from the left, another from the right. I let go of Morin's hand. Without thinking, I bounded toward the wolf on the left, shifting mid-leap into my lioness form. He recoiled, but not before I tore him across the face.
I gathered myself to lunge at the second wolf, but sudden pain ripped through the back of my neck. The third wolf was on my back, bearing me down as he half-crushed my spine between his jaws. The pain was overwhelming, and for a moment my legs buckled and I sagged.
The fangs in my neck ground deeper. I twisted, writhed, reached back with claws splayed. I tore at my attacker's nose, and felt a spurt of blood as my claws caught him. His jaws eased – he couldn't breathe. I rolled and dislodged him. His teeth tore through my nape as I shook him free.
There were shouts and running feet in the village but nobody was close enough to help us. I could not possibly kill all three wolves. But if I drew them off Morin would be safe from them and a better healer could help him.
I turned and fled, streaking toward the hills. The wolves followed, claws scrabbling. I faked a limp at first, but the wolves came on so strong I was soon running flat out just to stay ahead of them.
I heard panting behind me. I pushed harder and harder, every muscle straining. I cleared logs and rocks I had never seen before. Branches scored my side.
The wolves fanned out behind me. One pounded behind me, almost on my heels. Another ran to my left. I curved slightly away from him. I couldn't see the third. Where was the third one? I hadn't thought this through.
Keeping away from the two wolves I could see, I ran in a great half-circle along the slope.
The wolves were tireless. Pain from the bite throbbed between my shoulders. My breath knifed through my chest.
I cannot keep this up.
The third wolf exploded from the grass almost under my feet. I tried to leap over him. His jaws closed on my foreleg. Searing pain shot up to my shoulder. I crumpled forwards. The other two wolves converged on me. I closed my eyes, Earthmother, help me!
They never got to me.
My eyelids lit up red with blazing light. I heard a crack and a howl of pain.
I opened my eyes.
The wolves had left me. One wolf lay still a few yards away, its fur steaming. I smelled the acrid odor of burned fur. The other two were charging down the slope toward a Tauren druid.
The druid called a bolt of arcane power from the sky. The column of light struck the first wolf as it raced toward her. It buckled and lay still. Another column of light ignited the last wolf.
It rolled, smoking, to her feet.
She stepped over the body toward me. I sat up into my normal form, grateful and awed.
The druid spread her hands. Glowing green leaves rose and spun above her palms. With a flick of her wrist she blew the leaves toward me on a magical gust of wind. As they swirled around me the broken bones in my arm wove back together. I gasped with relief. The leaves skittered up my arm; the throbbing pain in my nape eased. Muscle and skin tingled as they mended. My skin prickled with goose bumps as new hair grew through it. The leaves pirouetted above my head and disappeared.
The druid approached me. She was no longer young; her warm brown fur was flecked with grey, and her black mane was streaked with white. Intricate beige markings traced down her silvered muzzle. She wore delicate earrings and a large, smooth gem around her neck that swirled with inner smoke. Glowing vines twined over her shoulders.
She walked in a way that made me feel clumsy, and she inhabited her leather armor as though it were her own skin. Even after doing battle with the wolves she looked as though she'd been taking an afternoon stroll. Not a hair of her forelock was out of place.
I gulped.
One day, I will be just like you.
"Thank you," I said. "You saved my life."
She quirked an eyebrow at me, "My pleasure, young lady. What are you doing out here, so far from the village? Can I escort you back?"
"Yes! No!" I wished she'd stop looking at me, I could hardly think straight.
"Well, which is it?"
I blurted out, "There's a night elf druid out here. He attacked Morin Cloudstalker."
Her face clouded, "I see. Has the alarm been raised at the village?"
"Yes, I heard shouting." I looked down at distant road. There was a huddle around Morin. I sighed with relief. "They're scouring the countryside for night elves…"
She glanced around us and took a step closer to me.
"… but I'd like to hunt for him myself," I said.
She smiled, looking down at me. "You are very young. I don't think you'd stand a chance against a night elf."
"No… but you would," I watched her hopefully.
Her eyes twinkled at me, "You're right, I would. But he's probably headed to the boat docks at Ratchet as fast as he can go. There's a boat that leaves tomorrow morning for the Eastern Kingdoms. He may try to take that."
Now it was my turn to hesitate. "Oh. I've never been to the Barrens before. I've heard it's full of monsters."
After a thoughtful pause, she said, "If that's what you really want, I can take you there. I'm going that way myself. Just stay close to me at all times. Don't leave my side for an instant."
She held her hand out to me, "My name is Sage."
I took her hand. She helped me to my feet. She was tall, at least a head taller than myself. I straightened my clothing and tucked an escaped lock of mane behind my ear.
I smiled shyly at her, "We'll cut him off at Ratchet! Imagine bringing his insignia back to Thunder Bluff. We'd be heroes!"
She chuckled, "Well, we'll see. It's not so easy as all that, you know."
We traveled through the lush, green meadows of Mulgore, dotted with their stands of redwood trees. I bid goodbye to the sound of the wind in the pine needles, the background music of my childhood. I was a little nervous, but I could have hardly found better or safer company to leave my homeland with. I was so excited I bounced.
We traveled as cheetahs. The breeze dipped and swirled around us, darkening the grass with sudden cats' paws. Ripples streaked behind us, passed us with a hiss, raced ahead in ever-changing patterns.
She moved with a fluid grace I could not hope to match, weaving between and with the grasses without bending them. I, on the other hand, crashed forward, leaving a wide, crushed trail behind me.
After a mile we had to stop so I could pick burrs out of my fur. The ones in my ears were particularly annoying. Sage shifted to Tauren form to help me pull them out. I noticed she didn't have a single burr on her.
"How do you do that?" I asked her.
She smiled. "You need to watch the grass… watch where it's blowing, and be somewhere else."
I looked at the grass, a sea of gyrating, twisting, bending blades. I gave her a level stare. "How long did it take you to learn that?"
"Years."
"And before that, you got burrs too?"
"All the time."
I sighed with relief.
We climbed out of Mulgore into a new land, a bleak, parched landscape of yellows and reds. Our clothing became pale with driven dust. The grasses rattled and snapped in the hot wind. In the distance, heat shimmered with the false promise of water, reflecting trees in illusive silver pools. I felt the moisture evaporate from my eyes and mouth, leaving them dry and sticky. Clouds billowed in the distance, taunting the land with a storm just out of reach.
We turned north toward a line of red hills at the western edge of the valley. We climbed them, following a narrow ridge, a bleak passage that overlooked the valley and quillboar settlements far below. Fine dust, like the ashes of bones, sifted through my fur and coated my mouth. It tasted of iron.
I could feel the land pleading for relief. It cried out for rain, for moisture, for healing. It whispered to me in a haunting voice; its needs surrounded my heart, wrapped around my bones. Its longing was so great I could feel myself sliding forward into a bottomless pit of want. I feared it would consume me, devour me, and leave nothing behind. I could give it everything I had, everything I was, and it would still not be enough. I shrank back, fighting the pull.
"I don't like this place," I said. "It eats druids."
Sage put a hand on my shoulder. "Hold fast," she said. "I know what you're feeling, and you must learn to bear it. Your job as a druid is to give as much as you can to the land without losing yourself."
I looked down into the valley. "Is that harder than running through the grass without getting burrs?"
"Much harder," she smiled. "But you cannot live only in healthy places… you are needed most in the lands that are suffering."
I shuddered. She patted my shoulder.
"There is beauty in every land, if only you seek it out," she said. "Look around you. Listen."
I looked.
Under the dry yellow grasses at the edge of the trail I could see other herbs. I saw thyme and rosemary, their grey-green leaves coated with dust. They had almost no fragrance, but still they lived, waiting patiently for rain.
I heard chirping. My eyes focused on a straw-colored grasshopper strumming its hind legs on its wings. Once I heard its song, my ears tuned in to thousands more, all of them producing a trilling, humming sound -- the sound of this land. I reached out to the insect; it leapt away, its wings flashing brilliant turquoise edged with black. I gasped. It landed a few yards away and vanished, a secret once more.
"All they need is some water," she said. "Water will give them the strength to carry on with what they must do."
She pulled her small canteen from her belt and opened it. She emptied it onto the herbs, down to the last diamond drop.
I sucked in my breath, "Why did you do that? We need that!"
She shook her head. "There is an oasis northeast of here. We can fill our canteens there. This land is sick, but it can be cured, and every little bit helps."
She tucked her canteen away and continued hiking along the ridge.
I knelt down by the damp earth. The water had soaked in. A layer of dust was already blowing over it. I looked out at the miles of dry land in the valley below. One canteen made so little difference to the land, and so much difference to us.
But then I smelled the rising fragrance of thyme. I bent my face to its sturdy leaves, closed my eyes, and inhaled the sweet scent of renewed life.
The ambush hit us in the early afternoon as we approached the oasis.
Several centaurs and hyenas charged out of the undergrowth, a thunderous phalanx of muscular chests and pounding legs. Hyenas darted behind them, yellow fangs bared, hungry and eager. My heart stopped.
A roar beside me laid my ears back. A storm of brown fur and black claws plunged in front of me, a wall of muscle and bone and teeth.
The first centaur reared at Sage, aiming its hooves at her head. She shattered his hind legs with one sweep of her paw. He crashed to the ground, legs kicking.
The other centaurs pounded around her. A swipe of her claws tore another one in passing, chest to haunch. Plunging her claws into his flank, she hooked him by the ribs and threw him to one side.
The others were on me then, snorting and glaring. I cried out in terror. Their faces gleamed with sweat. One stabbed a spear down at me. I jumped to one side almost under the feet of another. He reared. Sage's massive form crushed into him. The impact snapped his back and threw him several yards.
Sage shoved me to the ground and stood over me. Her great furry legs were pillars of strength around me. Her body strained and heaved as her weight shifted from one leg to another. I curled up into a ball, trying to pull myself into nothingness. Beyond her legs I saw the paws of the hyenas dancing, darting, bracing. Four by four the paws vanished. A few second later, their broken bodies flopped to the ground.
The last hyena skidded over the grit and lay still.
Silence.
To my surprise, Sage's legs were shaking.
"Get out from under me," she said.
I rolled from beneath her. She sank down. Too depleted to shift back into her natural form, she lay panting on the ground. I knelt by her side. Her flank was spiked with arrows. Most were the small darts of the centaurs, but there were five thick, black shafts as well. These had pierced deep into her body.
I stroked her flank. She did not move.
With rising panic, I pulled at one of the arrow shafts. It did not move. It was greasy. I pulled my hand away. My fingers were coated with a green, foul-smelling liquid. Poison.
"Sage! Tell me what to do! How can I help you?" But her eyes remained closed. Her lips were rimmed with reddish foam.
My healing spells were so weak… but I cast one anyway. It did nothing. I tried not to think of Morin. I cast another, and another, and another. Nothing.
Please… please… don't die.
I cast again. Still nothing… or so I thought. Was one of the arrows a little further out than it had been? I cast again – yes, it had moved, ever so slightly.
Over and over I healed her, removing the poison a drop at a time, mending the flesh beneath the arrow, pushing the shaft out from within. I was shaking by the time the arrowhead backed out of the wound. The shaft fell to the ground. It had a vicious, barbed head, but I couldn't stop to consider it. I kicked it to one side and started work on the next one.
It was late afternoon when I got the last arrow out. I was exhausted, but my hands were steady as I pulled it free and threw it away.
Still the Barrens gave us no relief. It drew in its breath, pulling dust and chaff into my eyes. Above, the clouds gave us nothing.
I sat next to her and pulled her head onto my lap, sheltering her face from the blowing dust. She opened her eyes. Seeing me, she moved as though she were about to rise.
I put a firm hand on her shoulder. "You are safe," I said. "Be still. Rest."
To my surprise, she obeyed me.
I stroked her head. She closed her eyes. I saw centaurs watching us from the oasis. But with Sage there, they did not dare approach.
After a while, she opened her eyes. She looked up at me, "That felt good, didn't it?"
"What did?"
"Healing. Giving."
I laughed. I hadn't thought about it. I ran my hand down her smooth, thick fur, over the places where the arrows had torn deep. There was no mark on her now.
My doing.
"Yes. Yes, it did feel good."
She closed her eyes again, "Even little heals make a difference."
My cheeks warmed with pride. I thought I saw the ghost of a smile on her face.
It was a blessed relief from the dryness outside to enter the small, lush jungle of the oasis. The ground was covered in soft, lacy ferns. Palm fronds waved overhead, shading great waxy flowers and blue mushrooms that came up to my knees.
But all was not perfect. The land was uneasy, deep beneath our feet. The oasis did not suffer from drought; it suffered from an illness rising from below.
I was hesitant to drink, but Sage assured me it was safe. I splashed the clear water on my face, washing the sweat and dirt away. The water dripping from my face made swirls of dust at the surface of the pool, like streaks of red in blown glass. I plunged my hands into the cool depths and lifted water in cupped hands. The cold, precious water soothed my dry lips and burning throat.
Thirst quenched, we rested by the side of the pool. The centaurs scowled at us for a while, peering through the fronds, then wandered away.
I told her my life story. There wasn't much to tell. I had spent a sheltered childhood in Camp Narache, the third of four sisters. When I was old enough to leave home I answered Cairne's call to fight for the Horde under Thrall's banner. The essence could have been told in five minutes, but I talked for an hour.
She listened attentively and nodded in all the right places. When I had run out of things to say about myself I remembered my manners and asked her about her story.
Her face grew dark. "I'd rather not. We're having such a pleasant evening."
I smiled, "Knowing more about you won't ruin my evening."
She put her head on her knees. Her gaze turned inward. I watched her expectantly for a while, but as she did not speak, I looked away. I did not want to press her into revelations she did not want to make.
The sun sank to the horizon. It lit the clouds on fire then flamed out into reds, mauves, and deep blues. I saw a star through the palm fronds, then another. Frogs began to chirp in the oasis. Their throat sacs made tiny ripples on the surface of the water. As the light faded, the ripples disappeared, but the reflection of the stars still danced in time to their singing.
Sage lifted her head. I turned to her, listening. She spoke in a quiet, distant voice. "I don't know if I can make you understand… you are so young, and you have not seen what I have seen.
"I have seen Paradise. I have seen a flawless world, our world as it should have been, without Shu'halo, without Kaldorei or humans, without the children of the Makers or even the ancient Trolls. Flourishing forests run to the horizon in all directions; the prairies are full of wildflowers instead of farms. It is a primal, savage, exquisite place."
"I have heard of this place," I said. "It's a dream world, the Emerald Dream. Isn't that right?" I asked.
She nodded. "I spent years of contemplation there, learning every whorl in a leaf, every hair on a mouse, every stone in a riverbed. Time has no meaning there. I was one with the world around me. Perfection flowed through me... it was ecstasy, it was rapture." She shook her head. "I can't put it into words. Everything I say is just a pale reflection of what I felt.
"I wanted to stay there forever, but I was forced to wake and enter the real world again." Her voice grew hard. "Sometimes I hate this world. I know that's the wrong thing to feel… I should feel compassion, I should strive to make this world like the Dream, but it is impossible. I seek relief in places like Mulgore, that's why I went there… but healthy places like that are few. There is too much suffering and destruction, and it grows worse all the time, sometimes even at the hands of those trying to help. Nothing I do matters."
"That's not what you told me earlier. You told me every heal counts," I said.
"I know, I know, that's what I was told when I was young, too." She sighed, looking down at the dark water. Her reflection looked back at her through the falling gloom. "But that was a long time ago. I know it's a lie, now. My elders were manipulating me. They wanted me to carry on for them after they had destroyed themselves trying to help… Every generation is given this task, and every one of them fails.
"Now I am failing at it, too. I am being destroyed." Her eyes were black in the moonlight, "What you felt when you entered the Barrens, that the land would consume you, I am there already. I have given everything I am. I am depleted. I spend my days alone, trapped between a perfect illusion I cannot join, and an anguished reality I cannot heal.
"The only lasting beauty I know of is the Dream, and even that is threatened. There is nothing that holds me to the real world any more. All I see when I wake up is endless pain, so I close my eyes... I beg and plead for the Dream to let me in… and when I open my eyes… and I am not there… I want to die."
She fell silent. Her eyes were far away, gazing on a distant memory. She did not seem to see me any more.
My heart ached to ease her loneliness, her sorrow, but I could think of nothing to say, nothing that would not sound shallow in the face of such despair.
What can I give you? I am so weak, and you are so strong.
She sat by the water's edge, her arms holding her bent knees, her head bowed. Her body curved in a closed circle, surrounding sadness I could not touch.
I edged close and began combing my fingers through her mane. Under the smooth surface it was deeply matted. Nobody had cared for her mane in a long, long time. I began coaxing the tangles out with my fingers. I picked out the biggest knots and worked them apart.
I glanced often at her face, hoping I wasn't hurting her, but her eyes were closed now and her expression did not change. Inch by inch, I untangled my way up to her head. At first I thought she might have fallen asleep, she was so still, but then she arched her neck slightly under my hands. It was such a small gesture, but it gave me hope that I might yet reach her.
I ran my fingers through her forelock. "There," I whispered. "That's much better." I glanced at her face, and was startled to see tears on her cheeks. She lifted her head to look at me.
"Thank you," she said. "I had almost forgotten… what that felt like."
I smiled into her eyes.
I reached over to brush her tears away, but she caught my hand in one of hers. She held it for a moment, then kissed the tips of my fingers. The touch sent a ripple of warmth up my arm. My breath caught.
She hesitated at the sound, then folded my fingers over my palm. "I'm sorry," she said. "I overstepped myself. I should not have burdened you with all this."
Do not shut me out, now.
I pulled her hand close... I could feel it trembling. I lifted it to my lips and kissed each one of her fingers. She did not pull it away.
Is this the healing you need? I can give you love, I can give myself to you… this is all I have to give.
I reached out and cupped her face between my hands. She was breathing in short, fast breaths, as though she had been running. I drew her toward me and kissed away her tears. She closed her eyes. Her lashes were wet and salty. She tilted her face toward mine, and I felt her lips brush my cheek.
Then she took a shuddering breath and pushed me carefully away. "I can't let you do this," she said. "I'd be using you."
"Stop protecting me," I said. "Stop giving, for just a little while... Let me give to you."
She shook her head, "You are giving too much... and it wouldn't make me whole. I am too broken."
I took her hand. "Even little heals make a difference."
She became still, studying my face. My eyes did not falter. She reached out a tentative hand to touch the markings on my cheek. I leaned my head into her hand.
"Do you trust me so much?" she whispered.
"Yes."
Her eyes dimmed with tears. "Thank you," she said.
She pulled me close, then, so very gently, drawing me into the circle of her embrace. Our lips met as I slid my arms around her neck, surrounding and shielding her in turn.
She fumbled with the fastenings at my throat. I stilled her hand with mine and drew it up, gently uncurling her fingers, one by one, to kiss the inside of her palm.
Then I undid the fastenings for her myself.
Around us, warm drops began to fall. They splashed in the pool, just a few at first, then more and more, until the surface of the water was hazy with droplets. The storm had arrived.
Outside the oasis water fell in warm curtains on the land, soaking the parched earth, quenching its long thirst. It washed the dust from the thyme and rosemary; it scented the air with their fragrance. Their withered leaves, dry for so long, unfurled at last and lifted to meet the life-giving rain.
I woke before dawn the next morning. Sage lay curled in my arms, fast asleep, her head heavy on my shoulder. Her thick cloak covered us both.
For an hour I held her, studying the intricate curl of her ear, memorizing the graceful curve where her jaw met her throat. I listened to her tranquil breathing. Her eyes did not move under her lids; her sleep was deep and dreamless.
The sun rose above the horizon. I hated to wake her, but we had an appointment to keep with a boat. I nudged her awake.
She opened her beautiful eyes and smiled at me. I smiled back, a little shyly, now that we were in the light of day.
We walked east, toward Ratchet. The early morning sun cast long shadows behind us. Scattered puddles reflected the pale blue sky. The air was fresh and clean. It smelled deliciously of rain and creosote and herbs. We could see for miles, all the way to the hills along the distant eastern coast.
Everywhere around me, I felt new life. Life coursed in the sap of the acacia trees. Grasses grew toward the sky, adding row after row of cells to make them ever taller. The ants were up and about, busily remarking the trails erased by the rain. A wren sang its descending song, a cascade of notes that spilled and tumbled into the crisp morning air.
We traveled off road. Word must have traveled ahead of us, for the centaurs gave us a wide berth. The raptors were more problematic, but Sage smote any that ran toward us.
We talked and teased each other the whole way.
"You know," I said, "maybe you're trying to do too much, healing all the land all at once. Maybe you should start smaller. Say, just one tree. Pick a deserving tree, heal it, and work your way up to a stand of trees. I like oak trees, or redwood trees… pick one of those!"
She threw a clump of dirt at me. "You mock me."
"Never!" I dodged, "You could kill me with your toe."
She snorted, then looked thoughtful. "Maybe you have a point. You are… very grounded in reality, you know."
"Yes, well, reality is the only place I've ever been. It's my home. It's got a lot of problems, but it's worth living for."
"I'd love to believe that," she smiled.
"Well, try believing it for a few days and see how you like it."
She tilted her head back and laughed, a warm laugh, an appreciative laugh, a laugh that I didn't fully understand. But I loved the sound anyway.
"I'm glad I met you," she said.
"So am I."
As we approached the town of Ratchet, I wanted to go faster and faster, we were so close! But Sage dragged her feet, moving more and more slowly.
Finally, the ground sloped down ahead of us, revealing the tops of red-tiled roofs and a glimpse of blue between them.
Sage stopped.
"Wait," she said. "Just… wait."
I paused, humoring her.
We looked toward the distant sea. For the first time in my life I smelled its salt tang. I heard seagulls calling. I could just see them: whirling, white-winged specks over sparkling blue. I was breathless with anticipation.
Sage came up behind me and slipped her arms lightly around my shoulders. She rested her head on the top of mine. I leaned back.
"Whatever happens," she said, "In this moment, I am happy, here with you."
I laughed, "Me too. But we'll have more moments like this."
She squeezed me fiercely. I yelped and laughed. "Hush," she whispered, "Enjoy this one." She buried her nose in my mane and inhaled deeply.
I wriggled free. "Come on, lets go into town. I want to see it!" I took her by the hand and pulled, laughing.
She followed me slowly, a shadow on her face.
We reached the edge of the bluff and looked down on the goblin town. It bustled with travelers of all different races. Fishermen hawked their catch from the sterns of their boats. Goblins patrolled up and down the main street. At the dock a ship was getting ready to sail.
I had a qualm. How would we ever pick out our night elf? And if we found him, how would we catch him?
I turned to Sage.
She, too, was looking down on the town. I expected her to look excited or disappointed or thoughtful, but instead, she looked sick with misery.
"Sage?"
She turned to me. She took my hand. I started to shake… something was terribly wrong. Was it something I had done?
"I am sorry," she said. "I should never have let this happen. I never meant to hurt you."
"What? You haven't hurt me." I clung to her hand.
"I am about to."
Fear rose in my chest.
"Traveling together, you thought I was protecting you, but you were keeping me safe, all the way here. Thank you." She gripped my hand, hard. "Whatever you may see, whatever others may tell you, this was real. I would never have harmed you. Trust me, though I don't deserve it."
My heart was pounding. "I don't understand!"
"You will. I visit Moonglade every few months, if you ever want to see me again... "
"Wait, why wouldn't I want to see you again? Where are you going? Take me with you!"
"… we can meet in peace there. And if I'm not there come find me, and wear this…"
She pulled the necklace with its glowing stone from around her neck and pressed it in my palm, closing my fingers over it.
"I love you," she whispered.
As she took the necklace off, her figure began to shift and blur. Her brown fur faded to pale blue skin; her black mane lightened to grey hair with streaks of white. Her body shrank to a lithe, elven form. Her muzzle shortened to a fine-featured face, laced with lines of weariness and loss. Dark markings like falling leaves appeared on her cheeks, surrounding eyes that shone like distant planets of unfathomable age.
The night elf smiled at me.
I staggered backwards.
Unimaginable grief welled up in my heart like tainted water. The face I loved was gone, replaced by that of my enemy. I saw Morin, eviscerated in the road, eyes wide with terror and pain.
No.
Shame seared my cheeks. I had healed her. I had held her in my arms. I had given her sanctuary. The hair rose on the back of my neck. What, in the name of the Earthmother, had I done? I was appalled. I had betrayed my people. I had betrayed myself.
The elf said something in a low voice but I could not understand her language. She took a step toward me, reached out with her hand. I shrank away from her.
"Go," I said, with a gesture. "Just go."
Her face went ashen. She drew her hand back and twisted her fingers together for a moment.
Then she turned away.
Below, sailors were untying ropes from the cleats. The ship's hull began to slide along the dock.
Sage dove forward off the bluff. A shimmering of dark fur rippled down her body, and her paws landed on the red-tiled rooftop below, soft as a sparrow.
She bounded to the ground, a shadow within a shadow. As a streak of black and silver she flew down the street, her body curving with every stride.
I sank to my knees, hugging my chest so it would not tear apart.
The ship had cleared the dock. She made a fantastic leap over four yards of water and landed lightly on the deck.
The sails climbed the masts. The white canvas billowed and snapped like a cape, then caught the wind like a bird's wing. The boat cut through the turquoise water, trailing a wake of white foam. I watched it until the glare off the water hurt my eyes, twining and untwining her necklace tightly round my fingers, cutting deep red grooves.
A step approached me from behind. I did not turn. I did not care what it was.
A Tauren hunter knelt down next to me. He carried a bow and a quiver half-full of thick, black arrows. His hooves were caked with dried mud; dark circles ringed his eyes. I looked at him dully. It was Rakni, one of the hunters I had carried a message for… was it only the day before?
"Are you alright?" he asked.
I shook my head.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I tried to intervene, but these hostage situations are always tricky."
"Hostage situation?"
He nodded, "I've been shadowing you two. But she kept you so close I could never get a clear shot. Very alert, that one."
I looked away to hide a spasm of pain. "I… had no idea."
"It wouldn't have mattered. You had no choice." He gave me a sympathetic smile.
I bent my head. Was that supposed to be my story? I felt sick. How could I live with myself if I believed that? How could I live with my people if I did not?
"Did she… did she attack Morin?" I swallowed hard.
He shrugged, "Hard to know. As far as I'm concerned night elves are all the same. Another elf druid was slinking around Bloodhoof at that time. My brother, Sern, hunted that one down and killed it near Thunder Bluff. I would have done the same to this one, but for you."
I flinched.
"I could have killed her when the centaurs attacked you. I loosed a few arrows, but then I realized that if she fell, the centaurs would tear you apart before I could get to you." He grimaced.
I was silent, watching the gulls swirl over the harbor.
Then I wondered quietly, "Does it… have to be like this? Will we stop fighting each other some day?"
He thought for a while, then shook his head. "I think there's too much hurt on either side. Some wounds are too deep to heal."
I looked past him, back toward the Barrens. The sun had risen high overhead, growing hotter with every hour. Its rays were burning off the moisture from the night's rain. Puddles had shrunk to circles of baked and cracking mud. The hot wind had started up, and already I could feel dust and grit blowing into my fur. The shower had not been enough to quench the land's thirst for even half a day.
My shoulders slumped.
But even as I lowered my eyes I caught a glimpse of sturdy green under the yellow grass a few yards away. Undaunted by the drying wind, the thyme still grew, and on its branches I could see small, courageous buds.
Rakni stood up. "We should go. Let me take you back to Mulgore, where you belong." He reached out his hand.
I did not take it.
"You are very kind," I said, "but I can get back myself."
He raised an eyebrow, but nodded respectfully. "Very well. Safe travels. Perhaps I will meet you again."
"Perhaps."
I gathered myself together and walked down to the goblin town alone. I followed the path Sage had taken through town. Passing travelers and townspeople had already obscured her footprints, but I knew where they were.
At the water's edge the dock swayed gently with the rise and fall of the waves. I walked to the end and sat down, dangling my hooves over the turquoise water. The sound of the waves washed over me. I leaned my head against a crate and gazed out at the horizon where she had disappeared.
In the golden light of late afternoon I got up and brushed myself off. The flight master was up the slope. I walked up to him and paid my fare. A wyvern stepped down from its perch for me. I climbed its back and braced myself as it leapt into the air, raising clouds of dust with each downbeat of its wings. Soon we were soaring above the Barrens.
I pulled the necklace from my pocket with one hand and looked at the swirling orb. It was warm and heavy in my palm.
I should throw this away.
But I didn't.
I closed my fingers over it and held it tight.