For centuries I have watched the heavens pass above my beloved Kalimdor, but tonight… tonight I realize again just how sad the moonlight appears when I see it's light upon my armaments lying beside me, inert on the grass. The light illuminates the many scars and patchwork repairs needed to keep the plate mail functioning, as well as prevent loss of power in their enchantments. The light of my Goddess must shine from her pure heart, how else could something so sad and lonely shimmer so bright? I speculate Elune's sorrow is because she still mourns for us her children – the Kal'dorei. Our name literally translates from the old tongue as "children of the stars."

The humans call us Night elves, no doubt thanks to our nocturnal proclivities and habits. We used to call ourselves immortal, and agelessly we gazed condescendingly upon those races that did not share our blessed natures by birth. How foolish we were, no… are. Countless time passed under our hubris, born millennia ago by the awesome but wholly blinding power and corruption of the first Well of Eternity.

Bright Goddess, Lady of the Moon, Mistress of the Night… please forgive us. Forgive our shameful hearts and pride, and purchase no longer this sad light because of the burden that weighs from our sins.

I am deeply ashamed of myself as well. I am a hypocrite that knows of his sin, and yet I have done nothing to change my hypocrisy. Elune's path is peace and understanding, wisdom and compassion yet I still bare sword, axe, and mace against my foes. I wield death and misfortune with fine edge and a felling stroke; I know this warrior's life only adds to her sorrow. I am wicked… I am… unworthy.

My name is Ikkitousen, according to the one's that gave me the name when they found me. My true name is lost to me, somehow lost in a fog of amnesia that does not lift save for glimpses in my dreams. I can recall only glimpses of my past, always of the Moon behind a white, sheer silk curtain hung from the branch of a tree. I remember a great fire that blazed up the side of a mountain and left only scorched, desolate, and barren landscape in its wake before being stamped out by the roar of a thunderhead. The last memory I recall is that of a forested city mid-night, alight from lanterns softly glowing in celebration. There is music, and the feel of grass and soil, thick with life beneath my feet and between my toes. I am running, and the feel of the wind is like a whisper across my face… and then… nothing. That is the last memory I have. I don't understand their relevance to one another, or their chronological order… but I know centuries mark their separation.

The glade around me is still tonight. Normally I am kept company by the serenade of crickets and the calls of owls. Sometimes it is the sound of a saber stalking through the bush after a flock of long necked striders. No, tonight there is only the wind's song as it whispers through the trees and over the glassy surface of lake Lunar. Despite the length of my pointed ears, and their given acuity to even the slightest sound at the furthest distances I hear nothing; were it not for my own self awareness I would not even realize I was here myself. The dark shadows of night are easy to blend with thanks to the deep violet shade of my skin. I cannot even see my reflection in the polished edge of my axe; only the light of twin silver stars, my eyes, floating in the dark. Somehow they are never.

I can feel the wind pick up slightly and it rustles the quiet forest like a rumor that spreads into a fiery gossip. I am neither priest nor druid, though sometimes I wish I were so that I too could understand the world at large. To be attuned… and aware…

"I can just as easily mask my presence from them, as I do from you my dear." I'm stunned, shocked into surprise by the sudden arrival of a woman's voice. A woman that I never realized was with me… the whole time… reading my mi-

"Heart," she corrects, "I love to read it's intentions, and yes I am always with you." I look to my left and right frantically, twisting to look behind and I find I am still alone. When I return my gaze to the lake I finally find her. There, in stark contrast to the reflected sky was not the glow of the moon but the light of her shimmering form trapped in the glassy surface. I need not ask her name or how she comes to me. I merely kneel beside the waters, humbled, with my eyes averted.

"What service can your servant be to his Goddess, this eve?" I ask with a tremble in my voice, no doubt caused by the vibration of my whole body. She makes a sound at this, I think it is her laughter but I cannot be sure. It sounds like the shimmer of moonbeams over water and feels like a cool breeze. What she calls me I cannot understand, either the word is too much for me to comprehend or I am not meant to hear it clearly, but I know she is addressing me.

"I missed you, beloved. I have worried to the point of illness that you would forget to come see me this night." There is a sharp reflection of light from the edge of the lake that forces me to look up. Only after I am staring in awe at the silver figure of the Goddess do I realize that the light was coming from her hand, which was now guiding me by the cheek to look her in the face. I am overcome by her beauty and grace that tears baptize me before her. The sky behind her is dark because the maiden has come to me, in person. "Poor innocent," she coos and then wipes my face free of tears. "This life has left you ill prepared to see me like this."

Whatever she meant by that, she was undoubtedly right. The Bright Lady was almost too much to perceive, but I say almost because even as these thoughts occur she dims her magnificence just for me. I could fathom whom I now saw without being overcome with emotion.

Her skin was alabaster, like porcelain from a dwarf kiln – smooth with a polished glamour. Adorned by streams of silken light she had woven into a sheer satin from her moonlight. Stars bejewel her ears, fingers and toes. She is crowned by a halo of those same stars just above her head. A smile sweet as honey upturned her delicate lips, adding a mysterious charm to her pale, wondrous eyes. Hair like quicksilver spilled down to the middle of her back and pulled at the top of her shoulders.

"My lady, how can this one be of service?" I ask again with all the certainty I could summon. Even as I try to kneel before her, those hands take me and guide me to stand. I'm astounded when I feel her arms slipping around my torso, grasping gently to my back.

"First… hold me," her voice is soft and pleading. "It has been an eternity since I last felt your touch." I feel her head settling against my chest. Despite my confusion I find myself welcoming her embrace, slipping my own arms around her shoulders. My eyes shut softly as I tilt my head to rest it at the side of her temple. I inhale deeply and her fragrance is sweet and flowery like a snow blossom growing strong within the cold air of Winterspring Mountains. I'm brought back to that memory, of the moon shining behind the sheer white veil hanging on a tree branch.

"You make me blush …" she says that name again, but I cannot hear or understand it. "Recalling that memory… of that time." She reached up and pushed her fingers through the white locks of my hair. By the expression in her eyes she was reliving some pleasant and private nostalgia. Her hands then slid down to my jaw to stroke the matching hair of my short beard. "I like this addition…. It makes you look so distinguished."

"Don't you mean older, my lady?" I smile for her, simultaneously unaware and astounded that I could find heart to jest with my Goddess. She laughed and it sounds like a chime. Whether the laugh was at me or for me, I cared none.

"Only you, my dear… make such jokes," her terms of endearment leave me perplexed. I have always worshipped and loved the Goddess as her devoted servant and child. "You had to forget so much, didn't you?" She was reading my thoughts again.

"Heart, love," she corrects me again. I must read like an open tome to her. Judging by her bell chuckle just now I am certainly right. She is right of course. I have forgotten much, apparently more than I ever dreamed. It is an alarming realization that is soothed from my mind by the caressing touch of her lips, as she captures me in a delicate kiss. I feel warm, lightheaded, but her arms assure me with their gentle strength. I dare not, nor want, to pull away from her embrace. In fact I welcome it by tightening my arms around her, encircling this Maiden of the Heavenly Night. The soft peck as well as placement of her lips deepens with a rich loving sensation, accompanied by the sound of her murmur. She feels like she trembles in my arms, amazing. It rouses my concern when I feel tears not my own on my cheek. My attempt to inquire to the cause of her tears is halted by the feel of her grasp at my back, desperate and tight.

"My lad-"

"Love!" she corrects me, I feel shamefully scolded because there is sadness in her face despite her happiness, making her pain all the more unbearable to me. Did I cause this? Have my deeds been so horrible to her that she weeps for me? Woe and damnation to my soul if I am He that makes the Goddess weep. "Shhh no, don't feel that my love. I am happy beyond any measure to feel the depth of your love… our love, still within you. I was afraid you had forgotten." That proves it. As she buries her face in my shoulder and weaves her arms around my neck, she is trembling.

"You don't know how hard it is, up there… alone, only able to watch you from afar. I feel my heart quicken with every peril you face. I am crushed with these emotions. Only when I find you as you were just now… at peace and looking back at me, do I find respite from my fears."

"My… my love?" I ask her, it sounds like I am questioning her, but I only mean to understand why she label's me thus. What does she mean by granting me, a plebian this honor?

Then I feel it from deep within. From a depth so far down in my soul it rises. The love she speaks of is there, spreading like flames across oil. I can feel the love swelling and filling me, saturating every fiber. Now I cannot recall one moment in my life when I have not felt this way for her. Then urgency buds within my chest now, a fear I have never felt. I'm scared… terrified… that I'm going to lose her. Why?

"Because we don't have much time left," she answers, confirming my silent horror. I know that as a mortal it is futile to question the Goddess with "why," so I don't.

"Tell me what I can do for you, my love. If we have no time," I tell her and see a blush fill her cheeks, disbelief in her eyes… as well as hope. I think I surprised her, so I tell her,"Anything."