Disclaimer: I don't own WoW, or any of its characters. They are the legal property of Blizzard Entertainment. Did you even read this far? I'm impressed.
Author: Yep, I wrote the first couple of chapters at once. Kaltreike is the name of my char on EU Darkspear, and I'll be featuring a couple of others from my (former) guild as well as my alts. Still got plenty of original characters in this fic though, and I hope you're not bored already. On with the fic!
Fleet of Foot
Part One
Chapter 2: Darnassus
The reception in Darnassus after stepping off the boat had, at least at first, been warmer than Treike had expected. The tattooed, slender priestess he remembered to be Elpaev Moongaze was awaiting him, Ashind and Prowl at Ruth'theran village with a wide smile on her face.
"Welcome home, Kaltreike Shadowfury …" she said throatily, gesturing to her escort of two sentinels. "Please accompany us. Lady Tyrande Whisperwind received your message. She awaits us in the Temple of the Moon as we speak."
Treike allowed an expression of approval to cross his gaunt face. He had known this priestess for some time, and he was certain she could be trusted. Elpaev was a distant relative of the Shadowfury family, a great aunt he believed…or something along that line. His family had been in disgrace for so long, and been something he cared so little to think of…that he could hardly remember now…
He had hoped to avoid the only other member of his family around, whom he knew regularly haunted this area, and certainly enough, Letta was nowhere in sight. Probably off stargazing someplace else with her lover. It was better that Treike did not see her. And he imagined she wouldn't appreciate seeing him…
Treike was not the most handsome of night elves. He had a long, pointed face with skin stretched tightly over the raw edges of his skull, twisting his face into an almost continual scowl. The golden eyes were set deeply into bony sockets and he boasted neither the venerable beard nor the prized antlers that marked so many of the great druids of night elf history. Similarly, his deep azure hair was only tied into a simple tail, with no long mane. The only mark of prestige he bore was the single small tattoo on his inner forearm, the Scar of the Moonkin, awarded to druids of the Cenarion Circle who drew upon the power of the ancient race in times of battle. Because of this, it was no-one's surprise that he had become a "war druid" as they were so crudely called by the Alliance.
But it was not his physical appearance, nor his druidic talents that repulsed many other night elves. It was his name.
Shadowfury.
The name that had belonged to a demon hunter pariah driven only by vengeance. The name given to a hero who had abandoned his own people just when they need him the most. The name of a witless weaver girl who simply wiled her days away with the strings or cooing at passing Alliance warriors.
And now it seemed, the name of an ugly, withdrawn druid out of favor with the Cenarion Circle.
The portal to the city of Darnassus was the same as he remembered it. A great tree concealing the glow of the enchanted circle. The transport was also as instantaneous as he remembered, and before he could even clear his lungs to retake a breath, Darnassus stood before him.
The gentle lap of the waters mingled with the quiet rustling of the foliage overhead and the hum of the Darnassian wisps to beat a symphony of peace on Treike's eardrums, but he knew the lack of commotion to disturb this peace would only last as far as the short walk up to the city proper.
As Treike, Ashind, Elpaev, and her entourage ascended the stone walkway, Treike could catch no flicker of emotion in the still faces of the Darnassian Sentinels guarding the portal. Were they pleased to see him? Upset? Angry? Did they even remember him at all? The druid could not tell.
Elpaev turned slightly in her stride and smiled over her shoulder at him, with just a trace of strain, as if to say 'I'm sorry for what you'll have to endure here.'
Treike looked away from her and stared at Ashind, who was starting to smile. A broad smile that creased the pinkish skin of his handsome face. Made even more infuriatingly pleasant by the breeze ruffling his straight mane of white hair.
Though he would never admit it, Treike was envious of his hunter friend's happiness at this moment.
Ashind had a mate and a young daughter in Darnassus, whom he had not seen for close to a year now, and Treike knew the cause of his smile had to be the prospect of having the chance to see them, despite the main reason for their visit to Darnassus…
Visit…
Treike hung his head for a moment as he remembered that this was a 'visit' that he likely wasn't going to be walking away from as a free man.
Darnassus proper loomed before them. It was obvious that the city was awake and lively despite it only being the early hours of the evening. The trees, hollowed and grown by the druids' talents, stood tall and proud, and the deep Darnassian lake carried the sweet scent of roses and fresh herbal blooms to Treike's nose. The Sentinels were waiting for them in front of the enormous Ancient One set before the city, shaped and grown to resemble the great faces of the bear and stag.
The Sentinels, set in their glimmering armor and blades, appeared none too pleased at the entourage coming to meet them.
"Elpaev Moongaze…" their leader, a huntress, said, stepping forward and saluting. She raised her voice in an effort to speak above the growing hubbub of the city. "We are here to escort your charge, Kaltreike Shadowfury, to the Temple of the Moon to meet the beloved High Priestess of the Moon. You and the hunter are quite welcome to join us, however and…"
"Huntress Ravenoak!" Another deep voice called, interrupting the sentinel leader.
Everyone turned and saw a druid walking towards them with a small group of Cenarion followers. Treike tensed as he recognized the one who had called.
Mathrengyl Bearwalker. Staghelm's lap dog. This couldn't be good.
The tall, heavily armored druid was turning the brook before the Ancient One to meet them. "Revered Huntress…" he said in his deep voice. "We appreciate your welcoming our brother in the Cenarion Circle to Darnassus, but this escort is not necessary. We druids are perfectly capable of escorting our brother to adequate facilities to await his trial."
Only the lack of an ominous undertone in his voice stopped it from sounding like Mathrengyl was implying he wanted to clap Treike in irons. Both Elpaev and the huntress seemed to tense slightly.
Ashind's face had twisted into a scowl and Treike noticed that his hand was twitching to reach for his bow. Prowl was starting to growl. He lay a restraining hand on Ashind's arm, earning a surprised glance from his friend.
"Revered druid…" Ravenoak said, strain obvious in her voice. "My sisters and I were ordered to bring this druid and his companions specifically to see High Priestess Tyrande Whisperwind. These were direct orders and we cannot disobey…not even to hand Kaltrieke to his brothers in the Enclave."
"Huntress. Please. This comes directly from Arch Druid Fandral Staghelm himself. And as Kaltreike Shadowfury is a member of our Circle…"
Treike decided to speak up before things went awry. He knew about the feuds between the sentinels and druids very well. He compressed ultimate patience and rationality into his voice before speaking.
"Mathrengyl…" he began, addressing the other druid informally and immediately catching everyone's attention with his surprising 'friendliness'. "There is no need for you to worry. I fully intend to visit the Cenarion Enclave shortly myself and pay a visit to the Revered Arch Druid. There need be no debates."
Mathrengyl Bearwalker narrowed his eyes, looking taken aback for only a second before answering. "Kaltreike…" he began (Ashind's mouth twitched – anyone who did address his friend informally did so with his nickname). "I really must urge you to come with me. The Arch Druid wishes to divulge some information concerning your personal safety before you venture further into Darnassus. And it might be unwise for you to continue to the Temple of the Moon at the present time until you have heard his warnings."
"I am sure High Priestess Whisperwind can alert me, my brother, if there is anything wrong…" Treike said, trying to sound firmer this time. "And I have already said I plan to visit the Enclave shortly. But it is a formality that I visit our ruler first with the gifts from Moonglade I bear…"
Mathrengyl Bearwalker immediately twitched, and Treike smiled inwardly as he knew he had him trapped. "Surely you do not insist I delay in presenting myself to her Honored High Priestess with the gifts of Keeper Remulos of Moonglade, son of Cenarius and grandson of our holy goddess Elune herself?"
Bearwalker immediately stiffened. "Of…of course not. I would never dream of presuming to keep the High Priestess' gifts from her." He relaxed somewhat, though Treike could see he was troubled, as could Ashind, who was smiling broadly. "Very well. I will inform our Arch Druid of the necessity of your trip to Lady Tyrande, but I really must urge you do not delay in reporting to the Cenarion Enclave afterwards…"
Treike inclined his head. "Please do inform Arch Druid Staghelm that I appreciate his offer however, and when the time comes, I hope I may have the opportunity to thank him properly…"
Ashind gave a quiet snort so low that Bearwalker appeared to miss it. The other druid turned and walked away, his escort following him. Treike noticed though that Mathrengyl did not appear to be in the least bit upset. In fact, his walk had a simple shuffle of relief to it.
Treike resolved to be on his guard.
The walk to the Temple of the Moon, short and uncomplicated though it was, turned out to be quite informative for the druid.
The last time he had been in Darnassus was shortly after Teldrassil had been completed and he and the other war druids had been enlisted for service in the Alliance. He could see now that it was much different from those few years ago. He could see new ancients standing everywhere, holding shops, inns, and numerous other establishments dedicated to crafts and services as provided to the night elves by the Alliance. Apparently, despite the lack of architectural diversity, cultural diversity was definitely improving. Humans, gnomes, and even several dwarves and draenei, were wandering through the streets talking with smiling night elf friends, obviously now living in Darnassus. Ashind snickered as the pair of them passed a young dwarf whispering in a corner to a night elf girl, who was blushing and giggling.
Children, which had formerly been a rare sight in night elf society, were running everywhere, laughing and chattering or playing. Treike liked children; though the night elves had sacrificed their immortality, the resulting increase in night elf fertility seemed a reasonable exchange now.
But the most significant change of all was in the earth. Formerly, the night elves cared for nature so deeply they made to live without disturbing it, but now that they merely cooperated with nature instead of actively aiding it, there were sunken flagstones and cultivated water canals mixed amongst the ancients, along with fruit and vegetable gardens.
In short, the once-immortal night elves were now taking their place amongst the fleeting lifetimes of the mortal races.
Treike noticed Ashind seemed to be twitching, and he could tell his hunter friend wished to run off and see his family. Prowl had already gone to jump and lick at a laughing little girl who was petting the saber.
"Go and see them, Ashind." Treike said quietly. "I will come soon."
Ashind looked at him and shook his head, though the druid could see he was still sorely tempted. "No. A little longer won't hurt. I'll go see them as soon as I know Tyrande won't hand you over to Staghelm." He spoke the last sentence in hushed tones so as not to alert the Sentinels and Ravenoak. Whether they did in fact hear him or not, Treike could not tell.
Ashind was a good friend. Almost a brother. Treike had known him since they had both been children. All those centuries ago when they had been young, an accidental fire had destroyed Ashind's home estate and killed his family, and Treike's father, their closest neighbor due to the remoteness of Ashind's home, had arrived only in time to save the hunter alone.
Bringing the sobbing night elf boy back to his home, Treike had taken him from his father and watched over him until the shock and grief of Ashind's experience had passed. He had then remained in Treike's home as his adopted younger brother, and Treike was the one of the few who knew that Ashind's persistent banter and almost childish sense of humor was only his way of stopping himself from remembering the horrible loss he had suffered.
Since he had met Silvanna though, he had drawn apart from Treike. Though only a couple of years Ashind's senior, Treike had cautioned him (somewhat overzealously in retrospect) of the dangers of involving himself with a mate too soon. Ashind had agreed at first and he and Silvanna had kept their relationship at arms' length until…
Treike shook his head. He had to admit when he remembered what had happened barely three years ago, he also wished he had a mate's loving arms to fall into. But that hadn't happened, and likely wouldn't ever happen. Ashind though, had left with Silvanna immediately afterwards, and considering what he had suffered, who was Treike to keep him from every ounce of happiness in existence?
They were just reaching the steps leading to the Temple of the Moon. Treike remembered the sheer tranquility of its interior, and his memory did not betray him as they passed by the guards into the cool, shaded interior. The statue of Elune glistened in the deep shadow before them. A light in the darkness, as was Elune herself. The cool splashing of water in the moonwell before them made Treike relax instantly.
Ravenoak dismounted before the archway and, as tradition dictated, removed her blade and left it by the entrance to the sacred temple. Nodding at Ashind to do likewise, Treike removed his staff also and handed it to a smiling young priestess. Ashind was less happy at the prospect of giving up his bow and his knife, but he complied. At least Prowl was permitted to accompany him.
A young priest, surprisingly not a priestess (Treike once again reflected on the changes in night elf society), approached them and asked them to follow him. Lady Tyrande Whisperwind had risen and was awaiting them. Both Ravenoak and Elpaev were smiling broadly at the prospect of meeting the High Priestess of the Moon, but Treike was less optimistic. He checked that he still had Remulos' gifts before he fell into step.
After a short walk up the steps to the higher level of the temple, Treike began to feel his pulse quicken as they approached the Darnassian Throne.
She sat there still. Tyrande Whisperwind. Still the unwavering beam of moonlight that many night elves muttered was the lifeglow of Elune herself. Still with the hard, unflinching gaze of one who was born to rule. Still with the silvery-white gleam billowing all around her, settling into a calm aura of cool serenity and hard steel.
Treike immediately bowed low after discreetly nudging Ashind, who copied him. Prowl gave a low purr of reverence before inclining his head. The sentinels and Elpaev of course, merely saluted and stood aside. They were Tyrande's soldiers; not her citizens.
Tyrande rose, with only the faintest sound accompanying her movement. "Rise." She said throatily, and the druid and the hunter straightened. Tyrande's voice was low and completely neutral, yet Treike could have sworn it had carried all the way to the lower levels of the temple.
Treike knew the High Priestess of Elune. He knew her better than most other night elf citizens at least. That his ambiguous acquaintance with Tyrande Whisperwind had not begun under the best of circumstances was indeed a barrier, but Treike liked to believe that the one-time priestess-in-training that became the ruler before him was the same one who proclaimed him innocent of murder centuries ago.
And now, hopefully, would perform a similar act once again.
Tyrande cleared her throat slightly and spoke again, her tone fading into the monotone of a formal, practiced speech, and Treike fixed his gaze firmly on her again.
"Welcome back to Darnassus, Kaltreike Shadowfury…" she began. "And greetings to you, Ashind Amberstar. It is most splendid to welcome back two heroes in this dark age. Truly, the blessings of Elune are upon us."
She paused, and Treike could feel Ashind twitch uncomfortably to his right. He could probably tell, as Treike could, that her flattery was likely a mere buffer for the bad news that came next.
"However…" Tyrande continued, confirming their fears. "I fear that this return has taken place under most suspicious circumstances. I understand that you, Kaltreike, have been summoned by Arch Druid Fandral Staghelm and the Cenarion Enclave in Darnassus to stand trial on charge of high treason against Darnassus and the Alliance. You understand, my children, that this makes your presence here a concern for me."
Treike nodded slowly, not sure if this confirmation was what Tyrande actually wanted or not. He knew once Tyrande was done with this ceremony, she would dispense with the formalities and open an ear to his explanations. For now, he would let this play out to its end.
"My lady…" he began, speaking slowly and with clarity to suppress any emotion. "I come bearing the blessings of the druids of Moonglade and the gifts of Keeper Remulos, son of Cenarius."
Tyrande smiled slightly, a gesture which did not quite reach her eyes. "It is always a pleasure to receive the blessings of the Goddess' grandson. Proceed, Kaltreike Shadowfury."
Nodding, Treike reached into the pouch that hung from his belt, and withdrew two shining brown acorns the size of plums. Holding one aloft for all to see, Treike spoke a word of command, and the acorn split its outer skin with a loud crack that reverberated throughout the chamber.
With a sharp cry, Treike tossed the acorn to the floor, where it landed in the fresh soil beside the High Priestess' throne. Most of the guards seemed to have guessed what was coming and stepped back, but Tyrande did not move. With a mighty groan, the soil split and a fresh young sapling sprung from the earth, twisted and sprouting until it rose over the throne and began to shine with a silvery inner light.
Without waiting for the first to finish, Treike held aloft and cracked the second before tossing it to the throne's other foot.
An identical sapling, shimmering with an inner golden light, twisted up before the mesmerized eyes of the priestesses to turn and intertwine with the still-growing beeches of the first…
Until finally, Tyrande Whisperwind and her throne stood beneath a shining arch of two young trees, each glowing with the inner light to symbolize the close relationship between the Daughters of Elune and the Disciples of Cenarius.
Ashind smiled, looking sideways at his friend, who had lowered his arms and was as impassive as ever. Ravenoak, Elpaev, and the guards were all silent as courtesy demanded, but he could see the wonder in their eyes.
Tyrande herself was now smiling broadly, obviously pleased. "Long it has been since the Cenarion Circle has shown me such courtesy…" she said slowly, heavily, and Treike did not blame her. His brother druids in Darnassus certainly wouldn't have been as respectful in their visits…thanks to Staghelm.
"My deepest apologies…" he said slowly, with a stiff bow.
Tyrande waved her hand dismissively. "Let us waste no more time with formalities. You had a clever idea for managing to slip through Staghelm's fingers, Kaltreike Shadowfury, but I am afraid there is very real danger for you here in Darnassus all the same."
Treike straightened and nodded slowly, his face slowly tightening into a frown. "I doubt Staghelm summoned me for the sake of fair judgment, Lady. You are aware that my case is not the first?"
Tyrande frowned. "Yes. I am aware many druids, particularly the followers of my heart, Malfurion, have disappeared recently. Fear not, Kaltreike, for the moment you are safe in my power."
He shook his head. "Unfortunately, Bearwalker took my word, Lady Tyrande, to visit the Enclave. If I had not, the druids would undoubtedly have tried to take me by force. I didn't want your fine Sentinels injured on my account, Lady."
Ravenoak stiffened beside him, but said nothing.
Treike then narrowed his gaze and said politely to Tyrande, "If it's not too much, I would like to ask the hospitality of your dungeons until my trial," Ashind exhaled sharply and looked sideways at him. "Let Staghelm think you chained me up the second I stepped through your gates, Lady. Since I am technically a criminal of the Alliance, you have a right the Arch Druid cannot dispute."
"Such would have been my suggestion as well," Tyrande said gravely. "I have no doubt that something would happen to you before trial otherwise."
She cleared her throat. "You answered a summons from Arch Druid Fandral Staghelm, Treike, and there is nothing I can do about whatever you do as a druid. However, the fact that he also charges you with crimes against the Alliance…that is something I can help you with, as this nation's ruler." Tyrande sat back down heavily. "I will have your criminal hearing scheduled to be held in the city below the Great Ancients. I managed to have the matter of criminal druids taken out of the Cenarion Enclave already by the same reason you gave."
Her voice hardened. "However, I cannot keep the druids from taking the majority of the judiciary, Kaltreike Shadowfury. And I am fairly certain those assigned will all be Staghelm's supporters. I will request the assistance of the visiting Stormwind judge Rubella Irwen to govern the High Court. I am aware Stormwind has a clearer idea of the events you have been charged with." She paused to get her breath back, then continued.
"Judge Rubella Irwen is supposedly one of the most famous and gifted of Stormwind's justice administration. She may be human, but she has stepped in to cover an Alliance trial in Darnassus once before…and I can honestly say she performs well…"
Tyrande's eyes then hardened. "I am fairly certain that the prosecution in the trial will not be Staghelm himself…but most certainly one of his supporters, Kaltreike. I had to concede that given that you are in fact of the Cenarion Circle and I cannot keep them from justice against their own…"
"Your defense, however, you must choose for yourself. I cannot appoint a defense counsel - I must not publicly support you."
Elpaev Moongaze stepped forward. "I would happily serve as Lord Shadowfury's defense, Honored High Priestess."
Treike shook his head. "Thank you, sister. But I already have a candidate in mind for my defense: Lady Silvanna Evernight." He glanced sideways at Ashind, who looked startled, and then smiled slyly.
Most unfortunately, the Darnassian Warden didn't seem to quite understand what Lady Tyrande had meant by 'honored prisoner'…
"Move, you dog!" Stonewill snarled, shoving the chained Treike down the steps into the Iron Barrow.
Shortly after the meeting, Tyrande had him escorted to the cells. Ashind had protested, but Treike had stared him into silence and told him to go find his family. Which he eventually did.
Tyrande had assured them both that she would do everything in her power to have Treike removed from the cells as soon as possible. At Treike's request, she had also moved ahead the scheduled trial to three nights after his arrival. Tyrande had, for the first time, appeared slightly puzzled at Treike's apparent hurry to quite possibly face execution, but Ashind had smiled and said three nights was all they needed.
Treike had observed an armed contingent of druids making their way to the Temple of the Moon shortly after he had been taken out in chains by the sentinels. They had not noticed him, but he imagined it wouldn't be too long before Staghelm figured out what had happened.
Which was why he permitted this obnoxious Warden to keep handling him like a rag doll.
The aptly-named Lokhorne Stonewill was, like most Wardens, a mountain of a woman with a fiery temper and a none-too-feminine approach to her charges. Her guards had muttered menacingly at the entrance that not many prisoners survived her displeasure for long.
Treike shook his head. The kinds of sentinels who got assigned to assist Wardens were more often than not the ones that got swept under the canopy before they stained the Sentinels' reputation. He had already been jabbed in the stomach by the butt of one's halberd when he apparently took too long to haul himself to his feet.
Stonewill surged past him and, with a jangle of iron keys and the shriek of a protesting lock, opened the nearest cell. "Get in there!" she growled.
Scowling inside despite the lack of visible expression on his face, Treike docilely stepped past her and settled down on the crude, chain-supported wooden bench in the cell, his golden eyes glimmering only so slightly.
Stonewill stepped inside, holding up another smaller key. "Hands! Now!" she commanded. "And do not even think of trying anything stupid, swine! I have a crossbow pointed at you."
The druid raised his hands, and, seizing his wrist, the warden unlocked the manacles and uncoiled the chains around his arms. "Consider yourself lucky you can have some time to make your peace with Elune here, pig! If you're lucky, they'll send you to the gallows! If you're unlucky, well…"
A gloating smile spread across her ugly face. "I imagine you may still serve your people in the Pits…if you last long there, that is…"
The Pits…the new Alliance hard labor prison in Silithus, dedicated to the extraction of silithyst by excavation. A slow and difficult death.
"I'm sorry to disappoint you, revered Warden…" Treike said slowly. "But I believe the death penalty may be the worst possible fate for me at the moment."
Stonewill gave him a twisted grin. "I have heard that from other prisoners, worm! And they wonder how on earth they all ended up dying under the desert sun, so far from the light of Elune…" Chuckling harshly, the warden turned on her heel and left. The cell bars were slammed shut behind her.
Treike leaned back. Three nights of this.
But it seemed the druid was in for a pleasant surprise.
Awoken by a loud banging noise, Treike stretched up, hearing the shouting of two female voices and the quick approaching footsteps. One voice was harsh and vocal with rage, and the other was clipped and razor-sharp.
Treike allowed himself a faint smile. He'd recognize the second voice anywhere. His ears still ached in reminiscence.
Lokhorne Stonewill, her cracked face twisted into an enraged expression, bustled down the prison corridor following a slender, silver-haired night elf woman in a thick, quilted dress and a dozen silver bangles around her wrists.
"What do you think you are doing, Warden?" Silvanna snapped in a hard voice. "Kaltreike Shadowfury has not been convicted of any crime. There is no reason for him to be in a cell!"
Stonewill growled, obviously barely able to keep herself under control in the face of this presumably-ordinary citizen. "He was imprisoned under a direct edict from the High Priestess, woman!"
"Is that so?" Silvanna asked, stopping suddenly and turning to face the taller night elf. "And what were the grounds of this command?"
"He is a criminal of the Alliance!"
"And how has this been proven? The Wisdom of the Ancients states clearly that no night elf citizen is to be persecuted or punished until his or her status as a criminal is incontrovertibly proven under scrutiny! I ask you again, Lokhorne, what crime has he committed?"
Stonewill started to answer, and then suddenly stopped, her mouth hanging half-open.
Silvanna smirked slightly. "You don't know, do you?" She then turned and continued to stride down to Treike's cell. "You presume to imprison him under an order with no proven conviction by the Wisdom of the Ancients? Even our revered Lady Tyrande cannot do that and you can repeat that to her if you wish, Lokhorne."
Stonewill seemed to recover from her lapse and stormed after her. "The Wisdom aside, he is a prisoner now, woman! And no law allows the removal of prisoners from the barrow without authorization! You will leave now!"
"His imprisonment is invalidated, Lokhorne." Silvanna replied without breaking stride. "And since he is not yet a criminal, to hold him as a prisoner is an offense to one of the oldest laws of our society and will warrant a charge of neglect of duty on your part…"
She had not spoken that last part loudly, but Treike noticed the Warden seem to stumble and pause.
Silvanna abruptly turned on her heel. "You should have known that, Lokhorne Stonewill. The Seventh Whisper of The Word of Elune expressly prohibits a Warden from accepting prisoners whose villainy has not been proven, and the punishment for abusing duty in such a way has been a dismissal and immediate exile…"
She smiled slightly, and it looked only a little vicious. She spoke quick, hard, and precisely in an unbreakable tone, just as he remembered. "Although with the amendments to our laws following the Battle of Hyjal, you could face charges on complaints and misconduct claims from your own former prisoners instead. Your neglect of duty charge would quite possibly suspend the invalidity of a criminal claim from your other…guests."
At that, Lokhorne seemed to stop entirely and looked at Silvanna unsurely. Treike was fairly certain she had indeed abused a fair few of her prisoners over the years, and if people suddenly started listening to them…
Treike, his amusement rising by the moment, saw Lokhorne straighten slowly. He had no doubt that she, like most Wardens, couldn't care less what the people thought of her, but since she was the Warden of the Iron Barrow, she had to observe the law and abide by Darnassus' civilized code of conduct.
Credit where credit was due, the Warden came up with a stiff response quickly, folding her steel-clad arms. "It is still a direct order from Lady Tyrande Whisperwind, and neglect of duty can hardly be substantiated against me for following orders from our ruler, Lady Evernight!"
Silvanna unfolded her arm, and with a whisper of air and a gleam of white light, a small, insubstantial white owl appeared on her wrist. "Dear one," Silvanna cooed at it quietly. "Please visit Tyrande Whisperwind and remind her of the Seventh Whisper. Do you understand?"
The moonlit owl hooted quietly, spread its wings, and vanished into thin air. Treike felt his lips twitch slightly. He almost smiled.
"And now, revered Warden Lokhorne Stonewill…" Silvanna continued to the immobile Warden struck dumb by her sheer impertinence. "Please give me the key." She held out her hand.
The Warden looked so furious Treike wondered faintly how she managed not to explode.
"I cannot…" she began in a tight voice, but the other woman cut her off.
"Warden, this druid's imprisonment is invalidated under the Seventh Whisper of the Word of Elune. Any further attempt to keep him imprisoned will warrant abuse of the Warden's Mantle and merit neglect of duty!" Silvanna's words stabbed sharply in quick succession. "You will free this citizen immediately!"
Lokhorne seemed to swell, and then to shrink, and the druid, standing slowly, could see a furious internal debate raging within her before she slowly started to hold out a key. Silvanna reached to take it, but Lokhorne instead pushed her aside and strode up to Treike's cell.
"No law can tell me not to free my own prisoners!" Lokhorne growled in a weak attempt at revenge before unlocking the door.
Silvanna immediately stepped to the doorway. "Come, Kaltreike Shadowfury," she said levelly, though her lips twitched slightly and the sickle tattoos over her eyes seemed to crinkle. "I will bring you to your new accommodations."
He stepped out of the cell, following her, and spared a glance sideways at Lokhorne, who seemed to be barely keeping herself under control.
"Don't worry, you're not the first," he whispered before striding out of the Iron Barrow with Silvanna.
After she had finished laughing and leaning against a nearby ancient for support, Silvanna grabbed Treike and hugged him, while he swatted her shoulder lightly and tried to unravel her arms.
The late afternoon sun shone down through the canopy outside the Iron Barrow. They stood behind the entrance, hidden from the guards.
"You're playing with fire, Silvanna." Treike said in quiet amusement. "I don't believe I've ever heard you lie through your teeth so convincingly in my life, and that's saying a great deal…"
Silvanna shook her head. "I can't believe what a blockhead Ashind is! Leaving you in that prison with that demon-spawned witch! I came as soon as my dear witless mate managed to remember where you were…"
"Don't blame him," Treike said. "He was just happy to have the chance to see you again. It's understandable it slipped his mind. But now we'll have to avoid being seen! Why in Cenarius' name couldn't you have just left me there?"
"With that Warden? I'm never going to let you suffer, Treike. I'm just sorry I didn't get here sooner." She stepped forward and hugged him again. "Kyra, Ashind, and you are all I have left. It's so good to see you again."
This time Treike returned the gesture. "I missed you too. And how is little Kyra? I'm still wondering when you'll send her to Moonglade, you know."
"Ah, it's only that with all the danger in the world right now, Ashind and I only wished to keep her close to home for a while longer," Silvanna said softly, waving her hand. "But no matter, I'm sure she's waiting for you at home now. Come, Treike. Let's go together."
Treike nodded, and slowly, both night elves closed their eyes and began to flow and twist within their bodies.
Treike felt his shoulders constrict and roll forward until his paws touched the earth, his head turning up to rest on his spine and a soft, rumbling purr rising from his throat.
He turned to see Silvanna flicking her tail before dipping her muzzle to him.
And the two druids melted into the shadows.
Author: That's it for now. Please leave a review, and I'll be sure to answer you if you have any questions. Next chapter: the trial! Love you all, readers!
