Chapter Ten: Up in Flames

A silken breeze whispered through the trees of Ashenvale Forest, and the trees sighed in response. The midnight moon cast its light through the boughs, gently caressing the undergrowth beneath Aeriah's sandals. He breathed slowly, feeling the pure and vibrant energy of the life around him. The sacred forestland embraced him.

"Elune's blessings are truly upon us; the trees are dressed most elegantly tonight," the voice from his side mused. It was soft and even, with a tone of whispered reverence.

"Yes, shan'do," Aeriah replied in between breaths. His eyes were closed, but through the forest's eyes, he saw exactly who had joined him in his meditation. "As they are upon you."

He opened his eyes to consider his teacher's expression. Liralei Swiftbreeze was, even by standards long since tainted by Azshara's true radiance, an example of night elven beauty. Chartreuse strands of fine hair framed her plump face, and her silver eyes were locked with his. A ghost of a smirk twisted her lips upward briefly as she arched a long eyebrow at him.

"Flattery, my dear student, is an effort better spent on your studies," she admonished, only half-serious. The tone of her voice betrayed the effort and Aeriah chuckled.

"I can only flatter the trees so much, shan'do, and they do not react quite as well," he responded before closing his eyes again. He breathed. In, out.

It had been decades since Aeriah began his tutelage under Liralei, and he still had a lot to learn. Malfurion was the first to hear the call of the wild, but he wasn't the only one, and his teachings spread quickly. It was now at least a century or two after the terrible war between his people, the Legion, and the Aspects tore the world asunder. His people discovered new allies and enemies alike, and aided in another war, before the call came to Aeriah. He took to it slower than most had, but he preferred it that way. He enjoyed moving at his own pace, and to that end, found a teacher who had embraced that part of him.

Liralei was a gentle soul, who had seen firsthand the Legion's influence on the world. It changed her. From what Aeriah had been able to piece together, she was a hot-headed arcanist when the Burning Legion's machinations first rocked the world, and as such was more than happy to take the fight right back to them. More than one harrowing encounter with the vile felhunters under their reign had tempered her passion; by the time the war ended with the terrible splitting of land and loss of the ancient Well, she was world-weary and despondent with the powers that were quickly leaving her. That was when she first felt nature's embrace and began her own learning under Malfurion.

Aeriah felt a hand at his shoulder, and he again glanced at his teacher.

"It is time that I showed you something," she said, gazing into his eyes again. "Come."

Liralei removed her hand from his shoulder and stood from her kneel. She was wearing robes of deep green that elegantly fell around her bare feet and brushed the tips of the grass, and Aeriah couldn't help but stare at her form for a moment. He braced his hand against the ground and drew himself up alongside her.

They walked through the forest for a long while. Streams of water bubbled and splashed against the stones that jutted out every now and then. Trees nearly as old as the world towered above them like sentinels, their arms extended to brace them from harm. The thick canopies of leaves overhead rustled slightly in the wind, whispering songs as they walked.

Before too long, Liralei had stopped them at the edge of a wide, grassy clearing. Deer pranced gracefully and nibbled at the long grasses at their hooves. Rabbits chased one another at the edge of a small lake, its surface a mirror. At the opposing edge of the clearing, Aeriah saw the foliage shiver slightly. Moments later, a sleek black cat prowled out, surveying the serene state of the plain. Its yellow eyes darted back and forth at each source of motion, before it seemed to settle its gaze on one particular doe, whose back was turned as it grazed. The cat stole forward slowly, its body low to the ground and tense as ironwood. Without warning, it pounced. The doe thrashed momentarily as it struggled away from the cat's grip, but the efforts were far too little as the cat's jaws clamped down.

Aeriah's face was neutral as he watched the predator's hunt end. This was one of nature's first lessons; some creatures existed as other creatures' meals. He'd learned it long ago and had since been inured to the violence, which made him wonder why his shan'do was showing him again.

As if she sensed his confusion, she asked him in a low voice, "Did you notice how the cat hunted its prey with a wary eye? How it studied its surroundings before closing to strike? This is a lesson that Elune herself wishes to impart upon us. The importance of taking notice of the dangers of the world. No predator exists today that hasn't learned that life can sometimes be harsh, and that prudence is necessary in order to continue living." She spoke slowly, and Aeriah wondered how much of that had to do with the lesson... or her experiences. "...and that there is always a greater predator."

Aeriah studied his teacher's face, and noted the thin lines present around her eyes as she continued watching the cat make a meal of the doe. She shook her head slightly and swept her eyes to Aeriah's. "This is a very important moment in your training," she said after a few moments, her expression softening again as a smile crept over her lips.

Liralei took Aeriah's hand and turned it over so his palm faced the night sky. Slowly, she brought her other hand, closed, over his. Gently she pressed something into it, before withdrawing her hand again. Aeriah glanced down to look at what it was, and his eyes shot wide. In his palm was a wooden idol, carved meticulously into the same shape as the face of the cat in the clearing.

"Take it," she said, continuing to smile. "It is my gift to you. May it serve you well."

Aeriah tore his eyes away from the trinket to look at her again. "Did you carve this yourself, shan'do?" he asked inanely as the awe clouded his better judgment. A druid's teacher was the only one who could carve an idol such as the one in his hand for their student, placing a part of themselves into the whittled lines.

Liralei laughed, and to Aeriah it sounded like chimes tinkling together in the lightest of breezes. She nodded, saying, "Of course, my dear student."

Something stirred within Aeriah's chest as he looked into his teacher's smiling eyes, and before he could check the motion, he took her in his arms and kissed her.

A few more years passed, and eventually Aeriah and his shan'do were mated under Elune's graceful light. Together, they lived in the forests of Ashenvale, living off the generous bounty of the land and their love for each other. They had erected a small house for themselves underneath the boughs of a great tree and he continued to learn from her. After he received the cat idol from Liralei, Aeriah had redoubled his learning efforts, gaining a few more of the carved wood trinkets along the way. One was a simple tree, and the other bore the countenance of the mystical owlkin that lived on the outskirts of the woods. He had taken the time to weave them onto a strand of mageweave and wore them at his neck.

The day he finished the necklace was the same day Liralei gave him his final idol, the stout and fierce bear. He beamed with pride as he placed it alongside his first idol.

When he emerged from their house, he was surprised to see Liralei speaking with a harried-looking messenger he recognized as being from the nearby settlement of Astranaar. His mate regarded the messenger with a grim look and a fire in her eyes he hadn't seen before.

When the messenger left and Liralei turned to him, he saw the ghosts of old memories in her visage.

"I must go," she told him with a terse note in her normally-calm voice. "The Burning Legion has shown their cowardly face again."

"Wh-what?" Aeriah asked, concerned. He too had been there when the Legion first defiled Azeroth with its presence, but his experiences were those of guarding the outpost. The closest he came to combat was the horrid stories of returning soldiers. That the Legion would attack again didn't surprise him, but so soon?

"They've destroyed the lands north of us," Liralei said. "The very land was corrupted and lies silent." She grimaced. "And worse yet, they've apparently begun raising the dead."

Aeriah's jaw dropped open. There was not a power in the world that could accomplish the feat Liralei was claiming. What evil had they now unleashed on them?

"I must go," she insisted again, noticing the look of distress on her mate's face.

Her words stirred him into action. Whatever the Burning Legion's plot was, he would rise to face it. If not for the world, then for Liralei. "If you are going, then I am as well," he replied, meeting her determined gaze with one of his own.

The war dragged on, mercilessly. Eventually the monstrous demon lord Archimonde had breached the most sacred land on the peaks of Mount Hyjal in an attempt to destroy the World Tree, and was defeated by the heroes that rose to meet him. Despite this, the battles below continued unrelenting. Demons and foul walking corpses alike assaulted the night elves and their allies. Liralei and Aeriah joined with their allies and fought. They pushed the vile creatures back, defending their very home in Ashenvale from destruction.

The time eventually came when the attacks slowed, and then finally stopped. They were finally safe, and would be able to return to their home, where Aeriah could then continue his studies. Victorious, they did just that, and things began to settle.

Aeriah woke with a start on a peaceful night to the sounds of rattling and the crunching of leaves. The moon outside his window was brilliant in the cloudless night, shining rays of luminescence breaking through the glass and splaying out on the wooden floor. Liralei slept beside him, her breaths even and calm underneath the sheets. Her green hair splashed out onto her pillow and across her face like a cresting wave. He gently brushed it aside and smiled. Even years later, he was still taken by her beauty.

He was shaken from his reverie by the sounds outside, closer now. He wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep, but a feeling in his gut stirred him to investigate the sounds. It was probably nothing more than the wildlife milling about, he was convinced, but decided to check regardless. Prudence, he knew, would keep him living.

Aeriah pulled on a tunic and strode outside, taking his gnarled wooden staff from the side of the door frame. An early morning breeze swept through the trees nearby, and the air itself was telling him that something was clearly amiss. He gripped his staff tighter and continued to walk. He swept his eyes across the foliage nearby, but it all remained strangely still. The crunching leaves echoed out again, and Aeriah followed them to the rear of the house. He swore he heard a gravelly moan accompanying the sound.

When he rounded the corner, he stifled a gasp. There, just ahead of him and shambling toward the house, was the skeletal frame of a thing that was clearly meant to be dead. Shoddy purple robes cloaked the figure, torn and frayed, and with a large gash across the abdomen.

Aeriah drew up his courage and called on his experiences of fighting the Legion's new Scourge abominations. He stooped low and walked softly, the grass barely a whisper beneath his feet. When he was in striking distance of the wayward skeleton, he swiftly struck at it with his staff, his aim toward the foul creature's head.

The strike was stopped short when a boned hand closed around the head of the wooden stick. With an unnatural strength, the weapon was torn from Aeriah's hands and tossed aside. The undead man's gaze was leveled at him, and the milky white dead eyes that bored into his unnerved him. Visions played through his mind of the horrors he'd witnessed in the war, and he gasped, scrambling backward.

Fire encased the skeleton's hands, shortly before that same fire hurtled toward the druid's retreating body. It slammed into him, throwing him backward into the roots of the great tree that protected his house. His vision dimmed and an incredible ache pounded at his head. He struggled to stand, but his legs wouldn't support him. Slowly, Aeriah succumbed to unconsciousness, and the last few sights and sounds would never leave him.

Brilliant flashes of angry orange light.

Screaming from inside.

Silence.

The next day, he found himself in Astranaar, confused expressions and concerned whispers urging him to wake. He asked around about what had happened, but no one answered him.

He realized bitterly that no one needed to.

After all, there was always a greater predator.

Simonee's watch was uneventful and boring.

Hours before, they'd set up their camp in the strange crystal garden, which mystified and worried him. This place was very obviously dangerous; the magic essences in the air had manifested in this place as pink crystals that seeped into everything in the hallway. The trees—which themselves were complete mysteries—seemed to take the brunt of the transformation, as all but the bark near the top had morphed into the substance. Then there was the matter of the dryad and the ancient. Simonee didn't know much about the old denizens of the world; that was the knowledge of the druids' teachings. He did know that they didn't belong anywhere near this sort of place. Everything of the Nexus reeked of magic and a distinct lack of care for nature.

The campfire nearby sputtered briefly before the flame regulated itself and continued burning. Garret had insisted they use the fallen ancient for firewood, claiming that the elements demanded their children back, or some such. Simonee didn't argue-it wasn't his place, and there was a certain amount of determination in the shaman's voice. The fire was tinged pink at the tips, but otherwise seemed completely normal.

Across the campfire, Aeriah tossed and turned, moaning in his sleep. The wounds he suffered worried Simonee, as did the crystal splinters that lined them. Krionoso reassured him before he went to sleep that there wasn't anything to really worry about. The druid would survive this, he said. Simonee had no doubt of that; of all of them, he always had considered Aeriah the toughest. That still didn't stop the voice in the back of his mind from telling him something was amiss.

With a grunt, Simonee stood, stretching. He wanted to inspect the wounds, and it was due time to change the dressings besides.

He silently strode to his packs on the ground and rifled through them until he found what he was after. He collected the bandages, salve, and a small pair of tweezers, before moving to Aeriah's side. He was still in fits of spasms, but Simonee carefully sat him up and began to remove the old bandages. He winced when the burnt skin became visible.

Large blisters of raw skin had begun forming along the lines of the already-scarring flesh. Many of the smaller shards of crystal shattered while Krionoso was cauterizing the large gashes, but in the firelight, Simonee could still see so many glittering slivers poking out between the blisters. With his tweezers, and as gently as he could manage, he pulled a few free from the druid's chest and set them aside. He then applied the balm to the new bandages and redressed the large swaths of burnt skin. Satisfied with his work, he set the druid back down fully on the bedroll and gathered his supplies and specimens.

He turned the crystals over in his hand. They were stained red on the end that was embedded in Aeriah's chest, but otherwise were the same sickly-sweet shade of pink as everything else in the hallway. He repacked his belongings and sat again, still inspecting the shards. They were almost flawless prisms, with clearly defined edges of irregular lengths. The ends were wickedly sharp, and Simonee could easily see them puncturing even a crocolisk's hide.

With nothing terribly out of the ordinary to visual inspection, he took to a magical approach. He called up some arcane power and began to poke and prod at the crystals, looking for anything irregular. What he found called the doubts he was feeling back into mind. He suddenly cursed having just re-wrapped Aeriah's wounds.

With a determined stride, he jogged quickly across the camp to where Krionoso slept. He roughly shook him about the shoulders, rousing the other mage.

"My turn already?" Krionoso muttered, still half-dozing. He blearily wiped at his eyes.

Simonee shook his head and whispered, "No. We have trouble."

His words instantly brought Krionoso to full alert, and he began to sweep the hallway with his eyes. "Are we under attack?" he asked when his inspection returned nothing of note, returning his gaze to Simonee.

"No, it's Aeriah. I took these out when I changed his dressings," he said, displaying the crystals in his palm. "I was starting to go through their arcane signature..."

Krionoso sat up and rubbed at his eyes some more. "And...?"

Simonee sighed and almost mimicked the gesture. "They're infecting him. We need to get them out of there, and now. I need your help."

"Light damn it," Krionoso cursed, beginning to stand. "What about the ones that burst?"

"I don't know... it's probably not a good thing," Simonee replied. Now he really wanted to rub his eyes, his exasperation growing.

The two of them walked to Aeriah's tent. He had finally stopped moving aside from his gentle breathing, sending another wave of worry through Simonee's mind. For the second time, he undid the clasps holding the long strips of bandage together and Krionoso muttered another curse at seeing the damage.

"What did you have in mind? We can't just go in and pick each out individually; it would take way too long," Krionoso asked, miming the motions.

Simonee racked his brain. He really hadn't given it a thought.

Krionoso, measuring his expression, asked, "Wait. When you looked at the shards, did they react to anything?"

"I didn't check. I woke you when I found out what I told you."

Krionoso sighed. "Alright, just start removing whatever you can. I'll be right back."

Simonee nodded and set to work. Suddenly his watch wasn't so boring.

A/N: So I've come to the depressing realization that I really haven't fleshed out any of these characters up until this story, and it comes to mind just how utterly bland the old stuff really was. With that in mind, I've decided that I'll be just about rewriting everything from the ground up whenever I get the opportunity to. This story takes precedence, of course, but I'll definitely be working on everything else as well. That just means that updates for Rising and Falling might take a little bit longer than they have of late, but I figure it'll all be worth the effort. Thanks again for reading!