A/N: First off, a thousand apologies for my sudden absence. I had no intention of going on break, but then Star Wars happened, and I saw it five times and wrote some fanfic…. Anyway, yeah, no more of that!

Second, I wanted to address the comments made by a couple of people regarding Kael and Rommath. Most anyone who is invested in Blood Elf lore knows that Rommath was highly devoted to Kael regardless of circumstance. Because of this, it was always easy for me to connect that to him having an emotional/romantic attachment to the prince. As for Kael himself, whether you love him or hate him, it's pretty hard to deny that he's a charismatic guy (assuming he wrote his own speeches, anyway), and everyone can sort of agree that Blood Elves are often classified as the most sensual and promiscuous of the races. In addition to that, Sin'dorei males are just by nature androgynous, and in a culture that has never seemed sexuality or its exploration as inherently wrong, it didn't seem like a stretch to make him bisexual in orientation.

Anyway, I'm afraid I've been gone long enough. Again, I do apologize, and I'll try to avoid unexpected disappearances in the future.

...

eight

The unlikely group was quick to set off, in the hopes that they might make it back to the camp before sundown, when the seemingly endless shadow that permeated the lands around them shifted into a darkness that was impossible to move through. They were silent, mostly; Tyrande and Kael led the way with Maiev and Rommath trailing closely behind. Every so often, the prince would make a comment on the scenery, or ask some trivial question to the High Priestess, but they seemed less out of curiosity or necessity and more so out of a desire to fill the absence of sound.

Eventually, the silence was filled instead with the incessant sound of rushing waters, and a great river came into view, depthless and speeding past at an impressively alarming pace. Tyrande glanced in either direction, but the river was endless so far as she could tell.

"This is Arevass," Kael offered falling in place at her side. "There's a bridge we can use to cross just south of here." Nodding, Tyrande allowed him to redirect the assembly and guide them along the grassy shore. It wasn't long until they came to the very bridge of which he spoke; it was an ancient thing, old wooden boards fastened with fraying rope, swaying precariously over the wide expanses of the rushing waters.

Almost instantly, Maiev skidded to a halt, a scowl etching itself into her features. "You've got to be kidding me," she grumbled, her gaze shifting between the others. "This bridge wont hold for all of us to cross."

Tyrande shot her a warning glare, while Kael only brushed her off with a dismissive flick of his wrist. "It's old," he agreed, "but it will hold. We'll move slowly, not too much weight at a time, and-"

"Sorry to interrupt," Rommath drawled out suddenly, cutting the prince off with a short apologetic look. "But I'm afraid slowly may not be an option."

His eyes strayed to the treeline in the distance, and he others were quick to follow behind. The source of his distress was apparent immediately, in the form of a sudden onslaught of Undead barreling towards them from the forest, each step bringing them dangerously nearer. An echoing murmur of fear passed through the elves; it was not entirely unwarranted, since they had seen far too much of what this endless army was capable of, had lost their homes and their loved ones already, and had only their lives left to which they could cling.

Kael let out a muttered curse, sucking in a greedy breath like the oxygen might fuel the fires licking at the insides of his veins, sparking at the tips of his fingers. "We cannot survive another assault," he said hurried, a glint of worry in his eyes.

Tyrande nodded in understanding. They were trapped, backs against the wall, and their only option was to stand and fight. But she had been here before, and she was still standing strong. The priestess would not back down from this new enemy any more than she had ever backed down to the limitless demon armies of the Burning Legion. "Tell your people to begin crossing," she decided at once. "We will stay and hold off the Scourge soldiers for as long as we possibly can."

With only a sharp jut of his chin, some cross between comprehension and respect, Kael whirled around and started barking out orders. Rommath blinked for a few moments too long, readying himself as best he possibly could. Maiev opened her mouth like she might argue, but ultimately snapped it shut, reaching over her shoulder to free the umbra crescent and sinking into a defensive position.

And then the dead were upon them, all gnawing and thrashing with bones and rotted flesh. Maiev drew them into her with each arcing swing and lunging attack, while Rommath and Tyrande both kept their distance, picking off the monsters with great bursts of light or crackling flames. Once, the Warden thought she felt the sharp pain of a gash against her arm, penetrating through a weak point in her armor, but before she was able to focus too intently on the pain, she felt the soft touch of a warmth that she had not felt in ages, had not allowed herself to feel, one that moved through her and eased the ache of her wounds. When she spared a second to glance back at Tyrande, the High Priestess only offered the quick flash of a knowing smile.

For a while, probably longer than any of them had really believed, they were able to hold back the masses. But each of them was quickly edging towards the brink of exhaustion, and the Undead were seemingly ceaseless in numbers. For each that was felled, another two rose up to take its place. Plunging her blade into as many as she could, Maiev stumbled back towards the others, her chest rising and falling in great, heaving gasps for air. "We can't go on like this, Tyrande," she hissed. "We need a better plan-"

The navy-haired elf threw an arm out to shove the younger woman aside, her other hand lifting to channel a bolt of energy that was enough to knock back the last of shambling corpses, though there were more that could be seen on the horizon. Tyrande glanced frantically over her shoulder at the others; it appeared now that the last of the Sin'dorei had managed to cross the bridge without incident, led by Kael'thas and protected from behind by Rommath. The mage was now making his own way after his people, and when he caught Tyrande's eyes he gave a single dip of his chin, an indication that they were safe.

"Go," she said then, the single, sudden word ringing out clearly over the clamor. Her expression was perfectly composed, aside from perhaps the slight traces of urgency in her glowing eyes.

Her serenity was the perfect offset to Maiev's disbelief, evident in the way that her jaw literally fell open. "Go?" She repeated, her own voice jumping at least an octave. "What do you mean, go?"

"Go," Tyrande repeated, harsher than before. "Go with the others, get them back to the base."

"And what about you?" Maiev growled, maybe shrieked, she couldn't be sure. Every passing second brought the next wave of Undead closer to them, and she was shouting to try and rise above the sound of her own beating heart. Her emotions were caught somewhere between rage and fright. She was angry, angry because it was Tyrande's fault that they were in this mess in the first place, Tyrande that had wanted to help Kael and his people, and now she was just going to send Maiev to look after them when all the Warden had wanted to do from the very start was find Illidan and bring him home. But she was scared, too, because there was this horrible dread that had welled up within her, more intense than she had known in a long time, a feeling she'd forgotten since the days of the ancient war, and suddenly she was left feeling like nothing more than a frightened child all over again.

Swallowing hard, Tyrande's gaze flitted between Maiev and the approaching enemies. She ran a trembling hand through her hair to push it back from where it had fallen into her face. "I will stay back and hold the bridge for as long as I am able," she responded quickly, nodding as if to reaffirm her own words.

At that, Maiev let out a strangled, humorless rendition of a laugh. "That's very noble," she retorted, but her voice was too hoarse to really sound all that sarcastic. "But you're no match for a force this vast-"

Tyrande was quick to cut her off, hands balled up at her sides into fists that were so tight her knuckles turned white and Maiev thought she could actually see the Light itself being squeezed out from between her fingers. "My goddess is my shield, Warden," She bit back. "Elune will grant me the strength."

In a moment of desperation, Tyrande actually reached out and wrapped her fingers Maiev's wrist, giving her a hard tug in the direction of the bridge. She shoved her forward, sending the bridge rocking side to side below them and Maiev flailing to grasp onto the thin rope railing. She paused only long enough to throw a glare over her shoulder before accepting that there seemed little to no point in trying to argue and beginning to make her way across. The priestess followed closely behind her, their steps hurried. As Maiev reached the other side, Rommath threw a hand out to her, linking their fingers together and yanking her towards the security of solid ground.

Tyrande, meanwhile, stopped in the center, whirling around with a determined scowl on her face. "Elune," she whispered so softly it was nearly inaudible. "Protect us in this most peril of times that we might live to fight another day-"

The army of the damned had reached the riverside now, a few of them stumbling over the others to try and make their way out towards her.

"Give us your strength that we might defend ourselves-"

The swaying very nearly cost Tyrande her balance, but with one hand gripping the railing and the other held out before her, she held her ground.

"And shine upon us that we might rise upon this darkness and bask in the glory of your light-"

With that final prayer still upon her lips, and the Undead overwhelming the bridge, Tyrande let go. She let go of the hold that had kept her from falling, and she let go of the barriers within herself. She let go of her fears, her doubts, her transgressions and regrets. She let go of her very self, until all that remained within the vessel of her body was the Light, the blessing of Elune turning her very veins to gold as it coursed through her. And then, she let go of that too, and when she did, it exploded in a brilliant burst of luminescence, blinding in its brightness. It spilled from every fiber of her being, from the tips of her fingers and the air that she exhaled from her lungs.

Maiev watched from the other side in stunned silence, eyes widened and lips parted as she stared on, longing to shield herself from the sheer illumination of it but seemingly frozen in place. And then, as quickly as it had come, it was gone, and in the final fading moments, she saw that the Undead had been knocked back, some pushed away from the shoreline and others sent falling into the depths below.

And then, too late, she saw the ropes that held the bridge in place coming slowly undone, collapsing under the surge of power, and she saw the priestess being pulled down right along with it, plunging into the violence of the river and disappearing under the surface.

For a long time after, there was only silence. They were safe, but for how long that would last, none of them could say. Maiev remained where she was at the edge of the river, frozen in place, staring blankly at the place where Tyrande had been only seconds before, trying and failing over and over to move, to blink, to feel anything whatsoever.

After what felt like an eternity, Kael came to stand beside her. The hand he rested on her shoulder seemed to weigh a thousand pounds, threatened to send her falling to her knees. "If we hurry, we can save her," he said. The words were spoken frantically, and yet there was an edge of defeat to them, like even as he said them he didn't quite believe them to be true.

"No," Maiev whispered, without really realizing it. For as long as she could recall, from the days of their youth, she and Tyrande had been something like rivals. First in their training as priestesses, and then in their battle over Illidan's heart and all that had come after. They had never been friends, had never seen eye to eye on anything in all their lives. But still, there had always been this sort of unspoken bond that existed between them, because whether they liked it or not, their lives had been tangled together for so many years, their paths constantly overlapping. When it had come down to it, when lives were at stake, they had always begrudgingly set aside their differences in the name of the greater good.

But now, she was...gone. And there was this strange and unexpected vacancy that Maiev felt in her absence.

Kael, meanwhile, was gaping at her like she was absolutely insane. "That current will take her straight into the heart of the Undead lands," he tried to reason.

The Warden was shaking her head before he had even managed to get the sentence out. "Tyrande is a soldier of her goddess," she said slowly. The words tasted wrong in her mouth. "She knew the risks that she took." All at once, her control over her own self returned, and she turned quickly away from the river, as if she couldn't waste a single second in putting this entire ordeal behind her. She blinked several times in rapid succession, a vain attempt to recollect her thoughts, to try and recall when she had allowed herself to stray so far from her mission, her very purpose.

Her head snapped up then, and with a bit of her spark returned to her, her gaze bore straight into the faded blue eyes of the prince. "We have a greater mission to accomplish now," she went on. With each word, a bit of the shakiness faded from her voice. "Your people are safe now, and I expect that you will uphold your end of the deal in helping me hunt the demon that I seek. Move out."

And just like that, she had slipped back into the voided sanctuary of her shell, blocking out all else, safe and untouchable from the pain of emotion. And all Kael could do was stare after her, wondering what a single person had to endure before they allowed themselves to be twisted into something so cold and heartless that the loss of their own people wasn't even enough to phase them.

By the time they returned to the base camp, any semblance of light had long since faded from the sky. It was the welcoming flicker of the fires that guided them the rest of the way. As soon as their silhouettes came into view, Maiev closed the distance between herself and the other Watchers where they were huddled together. She came to an abrupt halt before Cordana, casting a dark shadow over the younger girl.

"Felsong," she said, far too weary to sound overbearing. "Report."

Cordana rose to her feet, turning to face her commander fully. "No sign of the Betrayer, Mistress," he said bleakly. "He could be anywhere by now. This is hopeless- hold on, who are they?" Her gaze flitted over the older woman's shoulder to the place where Kael and Rommath hovered awkwardly behind her, their own followers lingering uncertainly at the edge of the campsite.

"Prince of Quel'thalas or something," Maiev said hurriedly, far less concerned with the other elves, far more focused on the fact that they had managed to lose Illidan again. She spared a quick glance at the blonde, telling him to make himself and his companions comfortable before turning her attention back to Cordana.

However, their conversation was cut short when they were joined by a third figure, one that appeared at Maiev's side and cast an even wider shadow, one that was characterized by the great antlers protruding from atop his head. Just like that, the Warden felt her heart sink in her chest as the full realization of what had happened hit her square in the chest.

"Maiev," Malfurion said lowly, apparently giving up on any use of formalities. She felt overly aware of the way his gaze swept over her, and then past her, the slightest of frowns adorning his features as he took in the new arrivals. But he didn't bother questioning her, at least not about that. No, he had but one thing to ask her, and the dread amassed within her as the words fell from his lips, his apparent pain nearly enough to splinter her own heart. "Where is Tyrande?"

Swallowing hard, she did her best to ignore the thudding of her pulse, wondering if he could hear the echoing within her armor over the silence that had befallen them. "S-Shan'do," she stammered out, pressing her nails into her palms, though through her thick gauntlets it didn't offer much in the way of comfort. "The High Priestess has fallen."

The look on his face could have stopped her breath. The devastation was instantaneous, spreading through his features, widening his eyes and drawing his lips down. "What do you mean, fallen?"

Maiev was caught under the weight of his expectant stare, under the raw pain in his eyes, a pain that not even she herself she could possibly comprehend. For ten thousand years Malfurion had loved Tyrande with all of his heart, had stood beside her, and now he was learning that she had been stolen from him. And for what? For Maiev's own thirst for retribution. Her vengeance had lost him his love.

She couldn't possibly tell him that she'd let it happen, that she hadn't even tried to save the High Priestess.

So she did all she could think, and that was to lie.

Clearing her throat, she did her best to keep her tone steady, level. "We found ourselves faced with a band of Undead, and Tyrande opted to- to stay behind and hold them back so that we might advance. She fought valiantly, but they overwhelmed her. I- I saw her torn apart with my own eyes."

Malfurion glared, not at her but through her, at some imaginary force beyond her that he seemed to have deemed responsible for this heartbreak. But it was a look that held far more pain than rage, and within seconds he had bowed his head to hide the tears that had formed in the corners of his eyes. "Tyra," he choked out, his shoulders quivering as a silent sob ripped through him. "I should have been there. I should have saved her."

It took every ounce of willpower that Maiev had left to reach out and place her hand lightly against his forearm, some false offering of comfort that she couldn't help but feel was far more intended to soothe herself than him. But she was too deep in now, too invested in her hunt to give up now. She saw this latest opportunity, and she took it. "Malfurion," she murmured quietly, unable to really, truly meet his gaze. "Illidan is the reason we are here in the first place. He is responsible for what happened to Tyrande. You can still avenge her, if we finish what we started."

Several long moments passed, but in time he lifted his head, no longer trying to conceal the quiet tears that rolled over his cheeks. "You are right," he answered, offering a small nod. "Illidan will pay for this, I swear it."

Somehow, Maiev managed to force what she hoped to be a convincing imitation of a sympathetic smile. "Let us rest," she suggested. "And in the morning, we will find him, and we will have our retribution."