Hey, sorry for the absence. Just moved into a new apartment with my girlfriend, it's been busy. Here's your chapter, kiddos.

Would love a review/PM from one of you, just to know someone still reads this? xoxo.


The biting cold never bothered Eve. The wind could freeze the skin right off of her face, but it would never make her shiver. Then again, her group was made of mostly living beings who needed warmth for survival. She served as the leader for the four others who travelled with her. A human paladin, a night elf hunter, an orc rogue, and a human warrior. They all worked well together, even though the paladin made Eve a little nervous.

Eve had been in Northrend for almost a month, and it was incredibly boring. At most, her team was sent to destroy some scourge caravan or another. The most dangerous encounter had been with a Death Knight. Eve could remember feeling particularly vengeful when their weapons clashed. After she had sliced his head off, she proceeded to hang the body upside down from a rotting tree, just so she could make the message clear. Her group never objected to anything that she did, whether it was out of a mutual understanding or just plain caution.

Around a fire, the night before they set out back to regroup in the Valley of Echoes, Collins broke the normal meal-time silence as he chewed on a piece of jerky. His voice reminded her of a very whiny child, and it irritated her.

"What are we all looking forward to when we get back? I'd say my nice warm cot's been missing me..." He nodded, scooting closer to the fire. Eve picked blood out from under her nails. Nathassa, the paladin, perked up immediately. She had been trying to make small talk the whole mission, which most of the crew ignored.

"Food. Real food, I mean. Mutton, with some ale maybe." She licked her lips as she chewed on a piece of hard tack. Nobody blamed her for that. If animals in Icecrown even existed at all, they were corrupted, and definitely not worth eating. The companions continued their small talk, and Eve tuned them out.

"Evelith? What about you?" At the mention of her name, her head snapped up. Everyone was looking at her expectantly. Outside of orders, she had said all of three words to these people. Eve didn't know how to say 'I want to beat someone bloody and watch their blood soak the permafrost' without raising any eyebrows.

"Ah, I'm not sure... I will take watch." With that, she stood up and stalked away from the group. She didn't go far. This close to the Argent Vanguard, there wasn't much action. As she drifted away from the group, she could still hear the conversation, but it was her they were talking about.

"I think she's... nice... I mean, we've had worse." Eve snorted. She had never heard herself described as nice, let alone from a paladin.

"She's frigid. She never sleeps, eats, or smiles. It's unnatural. The sooner I'm rid of her, the better." Collins declared. Eve rolled her eyes. She had the lurking suspicion that Collins was an asshole. He'd just confirmed it. Just so she could see him squirm, she skulked behind him in the dark. Reaching over his head, she plucked what was left of his jerky out of his hands.

"When I was part of the Scourge, they didn't permit us to sleep - not ever. It is a weakness that I don't need to succumb to. This means that you can spend all night twitching in your dreams while I take watch." Her hollow, undead voice made him jump and scramble away most ungracefully. She smiled eerily, to spite him.

"As for eating, I can. I choose to here and there." She took a bite of the jerky and chewed. It was rather good - probably something Collins had cured himself, as it was more flavorful than what the Argent Vanguard provided to it's warriors.

She could see that he was incredibly embarrassed. Eve hadn't taken any offense, but another commanding officer would have had him lashed for a comment like that. He had the right of it, anyway, she was quite... unnatural.

A far away sound snapped Eve's attention to their surroundings. Shit, it figured that something had crept up on them the second she wasn't paying attention. Internally, she admonished herself. This is what socialization got her - stalked. The last thing she wanted to deal with right now was a Vrykul Necrolord or something.

Nathassa quickly stomped out their fire, and as Eve's eyes adjusted to the dark around them, she saw nothing. She had the feeling of being watched, and as her companions quietly packed what little they had, she drew her runeblade. The hunter's pet growled low in his throat, and Xarlug the rogue faded to blend into the night. Not willing to risk the chance of an ambush, she gave the signal to move out.

Their trek back to base was longer than expected, especially because Eve refused to lead the group on the main road as she had been before. Despite this, the trained warriors never faltered in their step, only taking short breaks to replenish themselves before continuing on.

Around noon the next day, the group returned to the Argent Vanguard, tired and weary. Nothing had come of that feeling of being watched, and the group (Collins especially) suspected that Eve had done that as punishment for gossip. This had not really been her intention, but she was not going to tell them otherwise.

Her group dispersed, their mission completed. Eve promptly forgot all of their names, and handed in her report. The weather-worn human that snatched it from her hands only gave it a menial glance before sending her away. She had found nothing, as she expected.

Later on, after she had sparred with a training dummy, Eve took a stroll past the infirmary tents towards the main gate. She climbed up the stairs to the wall where the sentries stood watch for any stray scourge that came their way. They were all alert and waiting to signal. Some looked new and quite nervous. She didn't blame them.

Arthas was the type of enemy who kept you on your toes. No matter how many informants were on the inside, no matter how many of his chosen had defected, you never knew enough about The Lich King. An attack could come in two minutes, or two days. It was enough to make sane men lose sleep at night.

As she stood looking over Icecrown, she saw a pack of flying mounts heading towards the encampment. She didn't get a glance of the riders as they circled in to land, but she hoped they came with a challenging mission. These little scouting missions they were sending her on were starting to make her wonder if there was something better she could be doing.


Nialas felt sick to his stomach as his mount landed on the permafrost. As he slid from the saddle, he could only sigh in relief. He stamped his feet and rubbed his hands together. These were not the humid vales of his childhood, that was for sure.

Nialas stood the tallest amongst the humans around him, and it was glaringly obvious that he had no idea where to go next. Thankfully, someone he recognized waved him over. Nathassa's copper skin made her stand out amongst the white landscape around them, and Nialas was glad to see her face.

"Nialas! It's been too long!" She embraced him. Nialas welcomed the embrace, and returned it. As if she could read his mind, she mentioned getting him something to eat. He nodded, shouldering his singular bag full of extra gear and following her.

"So, what has the Argent Vanguard been up to lately?" He asked. Nathassa rolled her eyes plainly and cracked a smile.

"Nialas, I just went on this useless mission. Our leader was this Death Knight, Eve I think her name was, and she was just... Awkward. No social skills, you know? I have to admit, though, she was very... lethal." The name jolted Nialas, but he was sure that it was only a coincidence. He chuckled nonetheless.

"In that case, she sounds like an excellent leader." Nathassa rolled her eyes as they arrived to the food was a sour looking cook wielding a ladel like a weapon. He eyed both of them hesitantly before shelling out a bowl of stew for both of them. It was hot enough to burn the palm of Nialas' hands, so he added a bit of clean snow to the mix to cool it down.

He made quick work of the stew, which was much more delicious than he thought it would be. He was returning the bowl when Nathassa was called away for some duty or the other. Nialas waved as she trotted off.

There wasn't much to do, as he wasn't due to report in until the next morning. A camp fire had been made not too far from the cook's station, so he went to join some other soldiers that were sitting around it.

Some nodded as he joined them, but others either didn't realize he was there or ignored him, choosing to stare into the fire or off into the distance. Some of them had far-away looks in their eyes - as if they had seen too much and didn't want to cope with reality. Nialas understood.

When the darkness began to set in, and some people began to drift away to their tents for rest. Nialas chose to stay, and after a while he was the only one there. He was content to be alone, and the fire kept most of the cold away. 'I could get used to this...' He thought. Sure, it was cold, but he no longer had to face the painful memories that home brought.

Saying goodbye to the people he had grown up with was hard. Some - who knew more about his troubled past than others - didn't ask why, out of respect. Both of his parents were dead, he had no wife or children, his work drove all of his friends away long ago... He had nothing to hold him there anymore. Perhaps one day he would return. For now, though, he was content being far, far away.

After a span, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and he had the distinct feeling of being watched. He sat up straight, breaking from his reverie. The crunch of footsteps in the snow made him shiver.

"Nialas. What in the world could you be doing here?" Her voice was colder than the icy air that filled his lungs. He stood, whipping around to face her. Her armor reflected the dying light of the fire, making her look alive for a change. His hands found the hilts of his daggers, and they rested there. He had no words for her, only raw anger and sorrow.

"Come now, we serve the same purpose here in Northrend. Relax." She held her hands palms up to show she held no weapons. Nialas slowly let his hands come to rest at his sides, fists clenched. He'd been wanting to rage at her for the calamity she had caused, and now was his chance.

"What you did -" He began, but Eve silenced him with a bitter laugh.

"What I did, Nialas, was obey an order. I'm sure you've slaughtered dozens of people. Those people had loved ones, too. Did you limp home and cry over them?" He couldn't tell if she was mocking him or asking him an honest question. He looked away. She was right.

Not knowing what to say back to her, he strode over to a pile of wood. After hefting up a few sturdy pieces in his arms, he came back to the fire and tossed the wood into the pit, wiping his hands off. A coal jumped up suddenly, landing on his palm and burning him. He jumped back, gasping and cradling his wound.

Eve did a curious thing then. She stepped forward, grabbing Nialas' wounded hand. She put a cold hand over the burn and spoke a few soft words. The pain vanished, replaced by a warm sensation, as if she were pouring warm oil over his hand.

When she stepped back, Nialas was surprised to find that his wound was completely healed. Stunned, he looked at Eve. At every turn, she surprised him. She sat down on one of the benches and began to remove her chest piece. Nialas sat himself on the same bench, watching her undo the various latches. He briefly worried that she'd be cold, but then remembered the cold probably didn't affect her.

"Eve... what happened to you?" Despite the fact that she had wiped out almost an entire town of people he knew, he couldn't help but ask. He had to know. She smirked, rolling her shoulders. Without her armor, he could see the various scars and bruises she had recently accumulated. On her shoulders were what looked like intricate runes, although he could not be sure in the flickering light.

Eve laid her weapon on her lap. It glowed blue as she rubbed the blood stains off with snow she gathered from the ground around her.

"I knew you were going to ask that. Again, might I add. I don't know what kind of answer you want to hear, Nialas, but I'll start from the beginning." She wiped the bloody snow off of the blade with the sleeve of her shirt.

"I remember waking up on Wild Shore, south of Booty Bay. I didn't remember how I got there, but I knew where I needed to go. See, I heard this voice in my head telling me I needed to go North. It felt right. I knew something was different though. I didn't feel hunger or pain like I used to, in fact I didn't even need to sleep, although out of habit I would. Then I discovered that I didn't need to breathe anymore, either. There's a story behind that, but I won't tell it now." She paused to remove her bracers, setting them next to her.

"I realized then that I was undead. There was no visible death wound on my body, and so I have to assume it was through corruption that I became the way I am. So I traveled as far as a gryphon would take me, stole a mount, and rode straight to the Eastern Plaguelands. There, I found Archeus: The Ebon Hold. The Lich King controlled my mind, Nialas. I didn't have a choice."

Nialas sat in silence as she finished her story. This was his fault.

"Do you remember anything at all?" As the words left his mouth, he saw Eve roll her eyes.

"Yes, sure. Snippets of things from before I was undead. Childhood, my parents, training as a rogue. Sometimes memories of the time we spent together, but not much. Not enough to care."

Although her words stung, Nialas didn't think that she had meant to be so blunt. That's simply how she was.

In the silence that followed, Nialas warred with himself. Here Eve was, answering all the important questions he had ever asked himself. She had even been kind to him, in her own way. Healing him was not something he'd expected.

Eve tucked her long, tar-black hair behind her ears. Nialas admired how well groomed she was. He had seen many undead who were... less well put together than she was. She sheathed her weapon and leaned it against the bench to her left. Nialas was curious about how she kept her skin from rotting away, but he decided not to ask.

"You have been placed on an assignment, Nialas. You leave tomorrow, along with two companions - myself and the Paladin Nathassa. Standard assassination mission." Eve collected her things and stood, buckling her sword so it hung vertically down her back.

"We leave at dawn. Nathassa has been informed of this. You are welcome to my tent, if you'd like. I think it'd be too late to set yours up now." Nialas stood, stamping warmth into his toes. Despite the blazing fire, he was still cold.

He followed the crunch of her steps in the snow to the tent. It was bigger than the other tents - clearly the tent of someone who had high rank. The young Night Elf was flabbergasted. She was ranked higher than him, from the looks of it. Eve opened the flap and led him inside. There was a cot and a small table with a few unfinished letters strewn across it's surface.

"Consider it yours. Goodnight, Nialas. Don't be late tomorrow." With that, she left. The flap to the tent fluttered in the frigid wind. The rogue buried himself under the thick blankets of the cot. Yeah, this definitely beat sleeping on the ground like the other soldiers would.

Despite the fact that he was exhausted, he couldn't sleep. He could only think in circles. Why had Eve been so kind to him? He felt himself beginning to forgive her despite what she had done.

Back when he was running missions - after Eve disappeared but before he got over her disappearance - he would kill ruthlessly. Sometimes even mindlessly. He would take lives in the same manner as one would butter toast in the morning. Never once did he lose sleep over it. Never once did he wonder if someone loved them, if someone was waiting impatiently for them to return home so they could plant a gentle kiss on their lovers' forehead. So in that way, he understood, and he began to forgive.

Finally, after his mind had run itself into a tizzy, Nialas drifted off to sleep.


Elsewhere, Eve stalked the boundaries of the camp. For whatever reason, she didn't feel the same disdain towards Nialas as she did other people. Last time they met in his homeland, he was expecting her to be someone she was not.

When he looked at her then, hope twinkling in his eyes and arms open ready to accept her, she had hated that. Now they were on the same page, finally. When he put his hands to his weapons earlier, she felt that he finally understood. This, in turn, made her despise him less.

Eve couldn't remember feeling protective over anyone. Yet, Nialas was a link to her past that she didn't want to disappear. That was as close to caring she could get, she thought. Eve silently resolved that she wouldn't let anything happen to him during their mission.