The Raynewood Orphanage

Ashenvale

Cayden walked along the beaten dirt path leading north towards a small hill. It had only been a few weeks since he last visited this place but the lush green fields, rolling peaks, and deliciously fresh air were all too foreign given where he currently resided. It was yet another reason why it seemed painfully obvious why Rayne enjoyed spending his free time in this place.

The young mage took a deep breath as his nerves began to tingle. He knew exactly what he must do. However, the circumstances and recent history did not make the task easy. No one has heard from nor even seen Narula since the events that transpired after Ulduar. Lord Templar and his army had just been transported to Dalaran moments earlier by Cayden himself. Now, he sought to complete the last part of his assignment by retrieving their final comrade. Oddly enough, escorting this one person seemed to be much more difficult than the near two thousand prior.

A harsh chill tickled his spine as the mage reached the top of the risen path. The large house was now clearly in view. Even though Cayden preferred manipulating the burning elements of the flame, his body never felt more cold.

Sounds of youth and innocence radiated from the nearby yard. Gaggles of children roamed harmlessly about playing with one another. They kicked balls, climbed trees, and even battled one another using small mechanical beasts in a crudely constructed arena surrounded by rocks of various sizes. Though these orphans were lacking only one crucial thing, you'd never be able to tell they held any sorrow in their hearts from the way they smiled and laughed.

Cayden arrived at the door seemingly unnoticed by the busy children. He lowered his hood for good measure as if anyone sneaking a glance in his direction might be initially frightened over his maniacally decorated fiery robes. The mage enjoyed another deep breath. He gulped heavily has his hand rose to eye level. It flicked twice cracking against the sturdy wooden barrier and announced his arrival to the residents inside.

Thick metal plates stormed forward from inside the house. The mage raised an eyebrow while clenching his fist in anticipation. He didn't know of any armored denizen residing at the orphanage but wanted to be prepared for any surprises that may spring forth.

The door quickly swung open. Cayden took a step back and looked at the empty home staring back at him. His curiosity spiked peering forth searching for the one who created the pathway. Given the sounds he had just heard, perhaps the paladin had designed and built some kind of new engineering device that automatically identifies travelers and opens the door to friendly guests upon arrival when the host is otherwise busy. Rather ingenious to say the least but it still didn't answer the mage's question.

"Excuse me," a mechanized drawl called from below. "May I be of some assistance?"

Cayden darted his gaze downward. A mechanical gnome shining made of brass and steel stared back at him with glowing orange eyes. The mage instantly sulked where he stood, cursing his mind for reaching out for such wild thoughts and not even considering the obvious. He had seen Jeeves, the mechanized gnome butler Rayne had built on the last time he visited this place.

"My name is Cayden Melton," he stated to the creature. "I'm here to see Narula."

The mage wondered why he was being so formal to a construct but for some reason, the way they conversed made him instinctively treat this otherwise lifeless being with respect.

"Miss Dawngrove," the mechanical gnome calmly called. "You have a visitor."

"Thank you Jeeves," a soft voice answered. "Please show them in."

The door opened wider and revealed the kitchen where the night elf stood with her back facing the entrance. She was wearing a simple blue dress with a thick cotton apron adorned with colors and stains from meals long since passed. Her radiant purple hair hung softly across her shoulders and shined in the light of the nearby window.

Narula was just about done drying the last of a large assortment of plates and silverware. She stacked them neatly in a pile and lifted the apron from her neck. It was gently placed atop the dry dishes as she turned to face the mage.

"Welcome Cayden," she smiled. "Please, make yourself at home."

The mage's heart thumped inexplicably. He didn't expect such a warm greeting. All of his interactions with the night elf have been in the company of his fellow guildmates. This was the first time he had been alone with Narula since joining the Templar Knights. Cayden's guard was usually much higher knowing some of the others were nowhere near as kind. However, the night elf's beauty seemed to radiate tenfold in this environment. It was no wonder why Rayne was so smitten and subsequently made his task increasingly more difficult to complete.

"T-Thank you Narula!"

Cayden found difficulty using even the simplest of words in response. The stuttering that followed was just another sign of both his youth and inexperience. He stepped inside and approached the table where the night elf leisurely walked towards.

"Would you like anything to drink?" She softly asked.

The mage feverishly shook his head. This would be a lot easier if she wasn't so painfully pleasant. The fact that Narula had deliberately crushed the paladin's heart sending him into a trance of absolute sorrowfulness didn't even seem to register.

"I appreciate the offer Narula," he replied. "However…"

Cayden steeled himself. Despite their being an air of awkwardness hovering in a thick cloud over his head, the night elf was completely unfazed. The mage knew he had to be strong and present himself proudly.

"I am here on a matter of guild business," he stated.

Narula didn't even so much as wince. Either her resolve was uncanny or she truly wasn't bothered by the events that transpired between her and the paladin.

The night elf stared back at him curiously awaiting Cayden's announcement.

"Lord Templar has received a summons by Highlord Tirion Fordring. He requests the presence of the Templar Knights tomorrow morning."

Cayden took a breath before finishing his statement. This was harder than he originally thought but certainly going better than he hoped. At least, it was so far.

"I was asked to come here to escort you to Dalaran in preparation for the meeting."

Narula's gaze never left his for a moment. She stared deeply at him with her gleaming silver eyes and soft glowing amber irises without so much as a flinch.

"Was it at Lord Templar's request?"

The way the night elf carefully worded and sharply delivered that question nearly forced Cayden to take a step back. He could tell Narula was attempting to probe him for more information while subtly asking about their leader's well-being. She was being very coy but at least didn't shy away from wanting to know the full truth.

The mage painfully nodded. If she saw the dejected look on the paladin's face when he heard the news, even the night elf's stern resolve may have waned even if for just a brief moment.

"I will make the necessary arrangements," replied Narula. "Please have a seat. It shall only take a few moments."

The night elf walked past Cayden without another look. She exited the house and made her way down the dirt path towards the village just a short distance away. Someone was going to have to look over the children while she was away and the villagers were always happy to assist her since she provided a generous and much needed service in these harrowing times.

Cayden stood in awe. She didn't bat an eye nor even mention the paladin's name once. Something was definitely a miss. Her behavior may have seemed normal to the untrained eye but the night elf's response was very formulaic, almost robotic even. Whether she was putting up an unwavering front or Rayne's previous declaration and subsequent rejection had no effect on Narula still remained unanswered.

At the very least, the night elf was doing her very best to proceed as normal. She always had an air of grace and elegance to her. One would be hard pressed to determine that she was one of the most powerful members of the Templar Knights from her reserved and otherwise pleasant demeanor. Whatever the Highlord was requesting, Cayden knew they were going to need her strength now more than ever. He only hoped that she was equally as willing for the challenges that awaited them and not putting up a ruse to protect herself and others from the unpleasantness of their current situation.

The mage pulled out a chair and took a seat. He muddled over the scenarios that would soon present themselves when Rayne and Narula inevitably met once again. The night elf was clearly attempting to be professional about it. Whether or not their leader could do the same was yet to be seen. If the light was truly on their side, it would spare Cayden from bearing witness to any more awkward moments.

Given his relatively young experience and the current air mulling about, luck was not on their side.


The Silver Enclave

Dalaran

Things were unusually quiet inside of the Alliance stronghold. Rayne stood in the main hall in-front of the giant siege engine sitting below a marvelous marble statue depicting one of the most famed and beloved high elves in recent history, Vereesa Windrunner. Unfortunately for the paladin, some memories are sweeter than others.

The last time he entered this building was during the initial planning for the siege of Wintergrasp. The Silver Covenant aided the Templar Knights and provided them safe lodging and planning for the attack. It seemed like ages ago but no one, especially Rayne himself, was quick to forget the harrowing battle that took place that morning.

The location was chosen by Lord Templar himself. Since the Templar Knights were an Alliance faction, it would make sense that their meeting take place within these safely guarded halls. The Silver Covenant did not take kindly to the Horde's presence in Dalaran. Even using the word tolerate would be too strong for their tastes. When the paladin's father asked to utilize this specific building, they graciously were welcomed with open arms. No one was going to deny a request from the father of the Champion of Wintergrasp.

"How much longer is the old man going to keep us standing around?" The gnome scoffed.

"Dalaran's a big place," shrugged the warrior. "If everyone ran as quick as your mouth, no one would have to wait for anything."

Rayne smiled at the harsh banter between his two companions. Marcus and Weasel were the only ones available to accompany him this morning; not that they needed to be present here anyways. Ademski and Saelena were enjoying a well deserved break from activity at the Argent Tournament grounds. They were going to meet them tomorrow morning at the Argent Vanguard. Cayden was gathering the only other member of their guild who didn't reside in Northrend currently. Even thinking about her name snapped at Rayne's heart, however, he learned to quickly sooth that wound with the thought of the upcoming task at hand.

The only absence that puzzled the paladin was that of the twin priests Samuel and Zariyana. While the male Legend twin could easily be accounted for, either studying or frankly not wanting to be bothered with a simple get together between father and son, Zariyana's presence was oddly absent. Rayne heard a knock on his door about an hour ago and upon opening, his newly repaired and finely polished armor was sitting in neat pile in front of him. He at least wanted to thank her personally and pay for the services rendered. Whoever mended these plates did some of the most immaculate work Rayne had ever seen. It glimmered as if nary a drip of sweat nor blood had ever graced its surface. He sincerely wanted to show his gratitude towards the female priest but unfortunately hadn't seen since their last encounter.

Thunderous footsteps echoed from outside of the building's entrance. All of the members of the Silver Enclave turned their attention south towards the open pathway. A large cloth battle standard depicting a crimson red cross over a bold white background was being held by the lead soldier. He, as well as the many others behind him carried that same crest on their tabards hanging in front of their solid steel armor. They marched through the halls gallantly as they approached Rayne and his companions.

Surrounding a squad of officers in the center was the grand noble Lord Templar himself. He wore ornate cloth robes as dark as the night's sky adorned with similar crests of his namesake. Thick tufts of pearly white hair hung along his chin but were noticeably absent from his scalp. Despite his growing age, there was no one more cunning or shrewd than Nigel Templar. He once allied hundreds of blacksmiths to aid the cause of their king against the first orcish invasion and ensured the forces of Loredaeron were able to repel their further advance into their beloved kingdom. All of the members of the Silver Enclave knew the name Templar was one to be respected just as it was then and especially now more than ever.

The soldiers stopped in formation in the center of the main hall. There must have been two hundred men bearing the Templar crest in this room which still only represented a fraction of their total fighting force. They quickly parted and marched to the side in unison allowing Lord Templar and the Captain of their army who stood beside him, the stern yet intimidating Captain Lena Sherwood passage to move ahead.

Lena looked as sharp as ever. Her raven black hair was tied tightly in a ponytail much like the paladin's. However, that is where their similarities ended. Her armor was rough and battle-worn, carrying the scars of every single encounter since arriving on this frozen continent. When asked, the Captain would usually state that she was too busy training or working to get it repaired but Rayne knew that she liked the way it made her look more imposing during combat.

Lord Templar and Lena approached the paladin quickly. They stood before him as their army watched on in silence.

"Raymond," Nigel calmly said.

"Father," the paladin answered back.

A smile trickled up the old man's face. He placed both hands atop Rayne's spaulders and squeezed them tightly.

"I always knew you were destined to do great things," he declared. "It is in your blood."

Lord Templar gripped him even tighter. He may have been leagues older than the paladin but his strength was far from gone.

"However, never have I fathomed hearing about such incredible accomplishments as you have achieved in such a short period of time."

The paladin's heart pulsed. It was rare enough to hear words of praise coming from his father, especially after their initial meeting in Light's Hope Chapel. This, on the other hand, was above and beyond anything he had received prior. The look of adulation in Lord Templar's eyes was the first of its kind.

"I have never been more proud of you Raymond," he proudly stated. "You have grown to be more than what I could have ever imagined you being from the very moment I laid eyes upon you. If this is what awaits us today, I eagerly anticipate what the future holds for you."

Rayne was at a loss of words. This praise was not only unfamiliar but almost seemed uncalled for. Perhaps the weight of their accomplishments had been since marred but other distressing thoughts but even this seemed a bit much. All his life, Lord Templar stood over Rayne dolling out advice and imparting wisdom whenever it was needed. However, for the first time in their relationship, it appeared as if he was actually looking up to the paladin, revering him like a commoner would a legendary champion.

"Thank you father."

The words painfully cleared Rayne's throat. It was all he could muster in response.

"Yeesh kid," sighed the warrior. "I'm about to blush for you."

Marcus' quick witty interlude snapped the paladin out of his previous trance. A sudden glaring though had entered his mind. This was the first time his father had met any member of the Templar Knights outside of the Legend twins.

"My apologies father," he interjected. "Allow me to introduce you to some of my closest allies."

The paladin turned his hand over towards his left where the burly warrior stood.

"This is Marcus Bloodblade."

"Bloodblade?" Lord Templar inquisitively probed. "I've heard that name before, during the war."

He looked the warrior up and down. Even though they were on the coldest continent in Azeroth, Marcus wore very little armor; Only a single spaulder sat on his left shoulder with a few plates running down his bicep and forearm as well as some legplates and a pair of steel greaves. If he could stand this harsh environment bare chested then perhaps he was as tough as the rumors have led everyone to believe.

"I imagined you to be a bit older."

"Some of us start out younger than others," grinned Marcus.

"He's got the hair of an old man," the gnome chimed in. "I can say that with absolutely certainty."

"Weasel!" The warrior angrily snapped in response.

Of all of the buttons one could press to trigger his rage, nothing set Marcus off quicker than pointing out his baldness.

"And this," interrupted Rayne while poorly attempting to hold back a smile. "Is my other companion."

The paladin gestured downwards and out of respect for his companion's secrecy, opted not to use his real name.

"We call him Weasel."

"Charmed I'm sure," the gnome dejectedly replied.

"Now that is a name I have not heard of," laughed the elder Templar. "However, if half of the stories Lena has told me are true, I'm sure you have been a vital part of Raymond's success."

"Praised by Captain Tight-ass?" Weasel asked raising a thick eyebrow upwards. "I guess there really is a first time everythi – "

The gnome's words were cut off by a gross yelp of sheer torment. Lena dug her heel atop the front of his leather boot and nearly crushed all of his tiny toes underneath it's hefty weight.

"Watch it runt," she cursed through her teeth barely above a whisper.

The Captain had to keep her composure in front of both the soldiers and Lord Templar himself but that didn't mean she couldn't sneak in some dearly deserved payback.

They may seem unconventional at first but both Rayne and his father knew their skills and abilities were worth the praise given. The paladin couldn't have come this far without them and certainly didn't want to go on without their support from here on out. Their rough exteriors and sordid pasts notwithstanding, there was no one Rayne enjoyed putting his faith in than these two right here.

"Lord Templar," called another voice.

Everyone turned their attention to the approaching visitor. Arcanist Braedin met with the paladin and his father in the main hall. He was draped in the same violet battle regalia as he was the last time he and Rayne had met.

"You honor us with your presence," he said. "I am Arcanist Braedin. We have prepared a room to continue your discussion in private as requested. If you'd follow me."

Braedin lead the group just ahead where a row of doors lined the circular walled room. He approached the nearest one and quickly opened it. It was a small meeting room no larger than ten feet wide and twenty feet deep. A single table surrounded by wooden chairs sat in the center. The Arcanist politely ushered them inside and when they had all filed in, took one last look at them.

"If there is nothing else you need," he stated.

"We won't be long," Lord Templar replied. "Thank you very much for your gracious hospitality."

"Please excuse me, Lord Templar," the Arcanist nodded while shutting the door behind him.

"Everyone, please sit," directed Nigel.

They all did as instructed, pulling out their chairs in unison and taking their seat at the table. Lord Templar sat directly across from the paladin with Lena to his left. Marcus and Weasel were on opposing sides of their leader and took this moment to relax a little bit now that the pleasantries had been taken care of.

Before the air in this room grew too uncomfortable, Rayne broke the silence.

"Forgive me father but I must ask," he began. "What are you doing here?"

The elder Templar's expression tightened. That question may have struck a nerve but it had been plaguing the paladin's thoughts for the last two days and he desperately sought an answer to alleviate this burden.

"I know my presence here is unexpected," started Lord Templar. His tone was deep but with a touch of concern. "However, can you forgive an old man for being a bit excited when hearing such wonderful news?"

"Father," sighed Rayne. "I meant no – "

"Surely you can empathize with my position," the old man interrupted. "From the moment I began raising you, I have made it my duty to ensure that you were brought up in a manner worthy of your blood."

Lord Templar leaned back into his chair. His arms folded across his chest as he stared deeply back at the paladin with a tinge of annoyance.

"Hearing about your initial follies when you first arrived here made my heart grow with contempt. I had thought everything I had done up until that point was all for naught."

The old man loosened his arms. Both hands folded together atop of the table with each finger intertwined. His tone grew dark and serious.

"You have no idea of the sacrifices I have made and that I have asked of others to ensure your safety and well-being. They were tough but necessary decisions to ensure you followed the correct path."

Rayne pulled back for a moment. The way his father was speaking was as if he was going through a lifetime of memories in the blink of an eye. Only the moments that warranted such feelings came to light. It forced the paladin to reminisce about his own motives at the time. They were certainly selfish but the intentions were always good. Looking at it in that light made him quickly realize how many evil beings justified their deeds from that simple notion.

"However," the elder Templar stated with a smile rising from his face. "I was pleased to hear that my efforts as well as your own had proven fruitful. The victory at Wintergrasp was a great feat in and of itself but defeating an Old God, by the light Raymond… That is how legends are born."

The weight of his father's praised sat heavily in the paladin's mind. While each of those battles were monuments achievements in their own right, they were both marred with terrible memories that he still hoped to overcome.

"There are many more great things that await you Raymond," Lord Templar finished. "I cannot wait to see what the future holds for your next."

"T – Thank you father," stammered Rayne.

"You hear that kid?" The warrior grinned. "Thing's are always looking up. There's no need to look so gloomy."

"Hey!" Weasel chirped. "No helping! You're breaking the terms of our agreement."

"What are those two bozo's babbling about Rayne?" Lena cut in asking with both morbid curiosity and a trace of irritation.

"It's nothing," he calmly answered.

It wasn't like he could exactly be forthright and tell either of them what had transpired between Narula and himself. Rayne had sought out his father's wisdom for many subjects throughout the course of his life but never did either of them touch upon matters of the heart. Anytime that subject came to light, it appeared that Lord Templar would do his best to avoid it. As big of a concern as it was to his well-being lately, that wasn't the most important thing on the paladin's mind this afternoon.

Rayne did not believe he was worthy of such kind words. His father had given him everything he needed in life to succeed. Rayne felt as if his father deserved more of the praise above all else. His mind drifted back to the night that was so recent and yet seemed so distant. He was sitting under the tree in Wintergrasp on the eve of their battle with Narula under the pale moonlight. The words he uttered then replayed in his mind over and over again.

I never wanted to become a hero but before I knew it, I had already become one.

Rayne continued to struggle with his purpose in life. He knew he wanted to help people but never could he have imagined the incredible deeds and accomplishments he would achieve in such a short period of time. Many people were not only cheering him on but counted on his continued success for their own comfort and security. If things continued as they have been, the paladin may no longer have a say in that matter. Duty always came first.

"Also, I have something for you."

The old man changed pace rather quickly which was much unlike the father the paladin had known growing up. He seemed much too eager.

"This is the true purpose of my coming here today. Your young magus friend had told me you lost your previous weapon in your last encounter."

"Yea," the gnome chimed. "Come to think of it. What happened to that big red sword of yours? I didn't even notice it was missing when we got out of that saronite stinking dump."

"That makes two of us," added Marcus as he sulked back in his chair. "Don't tell me you fought that slimy freak of nature with your bare hands?"

Everyone at the table had their eyes locked upon the paladin. Rayne looked upon each of them as their curiosity swelled with anticipation. Going over the details of his encounter with the young elf wasn't something he cared to muddle over at this present time.

"It's," he softly smiled. "A long story."

"That's your answer for everything," scoffed Weasel.

His father smiled in response. Rayne always had a way of avoiding uncomfortable topics but so long as he was happy, Lord Templar would be content.

"Be that as it may, I cannot send you to meet the Highlord without being fitted for battle now can I?" The old man posed while motioning towards the Captain. "Lena, if you will."

"Yes sir!" She quickly answered.

From underneath her cloak, Lena stood up and procured a long scabbard with a hefty sword fitted within. It had a sharp red hilt that was fashioned to look like the very crest of the Templar army. This weapon used to hang proudly above Lord Templar's bed for years. It was revered by many as one of the finest weapons ever forged but never actually seeing a battle itself.

"The blade of the Templar?" Rayne gasped. "Father, but why?"

"I have been keeping this weapon in our home for far too long," answered the elder Templar. "It deserves to be wielded and finally, I have found someone worthy enough to be the first."

"Another sword?"

Rayne had his reservations about wielding this weapon. As a paladin he preferred a mace but his skills with a blade were equal, if not greater than all others. However, no matter how good he was, it still didn't sooth his conscious to take up another one of these so quickly even if it was a treasured family heirloom.

"The tool used is of little importance," his father countered. "Whether their skin is green or gray, enemies must be defeated and champions will rise."

Lord Nigel may have lived through the first two grueling wars between the Alliance and Horde but he was showing his ignorance when it came to actual combat. A weapon can make all of the difference between victory and defeat. It is not only a tool for combat but also a symbol to all others of the brave souls that inspire them.

"It's not just that father," responded the paladin. "This blade has been displayed in our home for as long as I can remember. After all this time, I believed it to be simply ornamental."

"Ornamental?"

The old man's anger swelled with that nigh offensive comment.

"This blade was crafted by the finest smiths in Azeroth," he remarked. "It was forged with the rarest of steels and masterly crafted to bear our crest upon its hilt. I would never send you into battle with a mere decoration."

Rayne cursed himself for being too hasty with his words but it pleased him to see his father could still react sternly despite all of his previous praise.

"Take it Raymond," his father begged. "Use it at your leisure until perhaps you find something more suitable to your needs. I only ask that you return it to me personally when you are finished."

"Thank you father," the paladin replied while carefully taking the scabbard in his possession. "You honor me greatly."

"I mean it Raymond," Lord Templar grimly stated. "I will not accept this blade from anyone's hands but your own."

The change in tone made the air grow thick in this room. Rayne gave but a single nod in response. They didn't need words to convey their feelings. The paladin knew what his father meant without having to probe further. He may have been a stern old man but his sharpness was rivaled by no one.

Time had passed quicker than anyone had realized. With their business seemingly concluded, it was time to gather the rest of the Knights and prepare for tomorrow's journey. This was only just the beginning. The paladin was happy to continue on a much higher note than originally anticipated.

"Unfortunately, we must take our leave. Thank you for visiting father," said Rayne while standing from his seat. "It was good to see you again."

"The feeling is mutual Raymond," the old man smiled. "I leave our entire army in your capable hands to do with as you see fit. Good luck on your journey. I am graciously awaiting the news of your next victory."

The paladin nodded and smiled. He motioned for his companions to take their leave. Marcus and Weasel made no comments as they approached the exit. Lord Templar also gave a quick gesture towards Lena to follow them. She stood up quickly, saluted and followed the other too out the door. However, Rayne found it rather strange that his father did not move from his seat.

"Father, are you staying?"

"Actually, that is not the only reason why I am here," he replied. "An emissary came to visit me this morning. I have another meeting scheduled in a few moments."

"Really?" The paladin raised an eyebrow. "With who?"

"I thought you knew about this," his father quizzically replied. "They are friends of yours, aren't they?"


Runeweaver Square

Dalaran

"Samuel!" Shouted the female priest. "Wait, you can't do this."

The male Legend twin stopped in his tracks near the fountain that had become quite the tourist attraction for visitors and adventurers alike. It was a little less busy than usual but with the sun beginning to set, mostly everyone opted for a more scenic sight towards the edge of the city until the marvelous lights illuminated at this location. While normally these two would keep their personal affairs private, Samuel felt no need to keep his emotions hidden. That was the key element to his plan.

"I cannot?" He snapped back while turning to face his sister. "It has already been done. Father has given his blessing."

"No!" She angrily countered. "You cannot go off and decide how I'm going to live the rest of my life."

"This was not my decision," Samuel fired back. "Or do you not recall your own words a mere two days ago?"

Zariyana took a step back. She'd never seen her brother so fired up before. It was unbecoming of him and yet, the female priest was powerless to do anything but listen.

"That was – "

"Did you truly mean what you said or was that statement made merely in jest?"

His words rocked Zariyana down to her core. Expressing intimate emotions in the comfort of one's own home was one thing but here they were completely exposed. Nobles didn't behave this way normally and this was certainly not the way the Legend twins were brought up. Something was incredibly off with Samuel but she couldn't find the words to express it. That is the product of their environment after all.

The female priest bit her lip while dropping her gaze downward. She couldn't believe her brother was acting so uncouth now of all times. Zariyana was desperate to give her a piece of his mind. She lifted her head up. Her eyes, filled with determination, scowled at her twin ready to end this once and for all.

The words never found their way to her throat. Instead, she gasped as just over her brother's shoulder she caught a familiar pair approaching them. Zariyana wouldn't dare utter her thoughts now. Not in front of him and especially not in front of her.

Samuel easily read the distress in his sister's expression. He turned quickly and found the mage Cayden Melton standing with an unfamiliar companion in these parts, Narula Dawngrove. She was dressed in that familiar purple leather regalia that she often took into combat. Apparently, word had traveled fast about the Templar Knight's summoning and despite all that has transpired, still saw it fit to attend. This was working out better than he had hoped.

"Hello Narula," greeted the male Legend twin.

"Samuel," smiled the night elf as she quickly turned her attention towards his sister. "Zariyana. It is good to see you both."

"Likewise," Samuel stated. He prepared his next words carefully in order to move towards the next stage in his plan. "Off on another mundane tour Flame Brain?"

"Hey!" The mage barked while holding his composure a bit better than usual when hearing those words being uttered at his expense. "We're not on a tour. I was just escorting Narula to her room for the night."

"Is that so?" Probed the male priest almost rhetorically. "Well, have a good evening."

Samuel motioned for his sister with a quick nod.

"Come along Zariyana, we mustn't be late."

"Wait," Cayden replied. "Where are you two going in such a hurry?"

The male Legend twin turned his full attention towards Narula. His deep gold eyes stared deeply into hers. Without wavering, he continued.

"My father has scheduled an audience for us with Lord Templar," he stated. "He has agreed to arrange a marriage between Rayne and Zariyana once the campaign in Northrend is at an end."

Samuel's eyes never left the night elf's. He probed deeply waiting for the precise moment in which she would flinch and reveal her true feelings. This was a bold move but given all other options, it was the only one that may prove to find the results he was looking for. The growing silence between them forced the male twin to up the ante.

"That doesn't pose a concern nor problem to either of you," he snidely added. "Would it?"

Surprisingly, Narula's expression didn't change in the slightest. It appears the priest's heavy declaration had little effect on her at all. She simply returned with a soft smile as she normally would.

"Please give my regards to Lord Templar."

The night elf turned towards her companion.

"Cayden, where is the inn you mentioned earlier?"

"Right!" The mage replied painfully snapping back into reality. "It's just over this way. If you'd follow me."

They left the twin priests just as quick as they came. Samuel turned as they passed fixing his gaze back on the night elf once more. He continued to wait for her to give up something, anything that would prove his theory to be correct. They were starting to get lost in the crowd leaving the plaza before his sister violently took hold of his arm and grasped his attention.

"What is the matter with you?!" She scowled. "Why would you say such a thing? You know how – "

"It's not right, isn't it?" He interrupted.

"What do you mean?"

Samuel clenched his fist. He was a creature of knowledge and understanding. The world was full of mysterious that were just waiting to be solved. This one, on the other hand, should have been answered long ago. The fact that the resolution did not match the priest's findings irked at him in ways few things rarely did.

"Something is off about her behavior," he answered. "And I intend to find out why."