I spent a week in Dalaran with the Magi Corps, attending more meetings about the Scourge and getting more training in that short amount of time than I had in my entire life, even learning how to conjure food. Granted, my conjuring wasn't the best. Most of the time, the bread was crumbling under my fingers, but it was more than I'd been able to do in a century of magic.

"I think I might prefer regular baking," I told Rhonin as I cleaned up a mess of crumbs from the table.

"You'll get there. You just need to practice and focus. It comes in handy in a pinch, and even crumbly bread is better than nothing."

I supposed so. I'd persevere if I had time to do so.

"Thank you for the lessons, Rhonin," I said as I got ready to leave. My time in Dalaran was up, but we had learned how to create individual portals to the magical city, so I would be able to return whenever I wanted. I'd just have to be very quick about it, because it would only stay open a few seconds at most.

"Anytime. You'll be able to come back whenever you want, and you'll also be able to make a portal to Undercity from wherever you are."

A portal to Sylvanas. Out of everything I had learned in Dalaran, I felt as though this were the most important one.

I'll be able to return to you whenever I want, I thought to myself. I had tried it twice, and it had worked, bringing me back to a small room in the Royal Quarter that Sylvanas had grudgingly set aside for me. The others had set their portals to the Ruins of Lordaeron out of respect.

She was still angry with me, not feeling the least bit remorseful about having struck me. The bruise on my face was fading. The ache in my heart due to her action was still very present.

All of us went back via portal an hour later. Sylvanas was waiting for us, so we went directly to her to let her know what would be done about the Scourge.

"They want us to clear out Andorhal and Scholomance?" she asked me, turning her glowing red eyes towards me. "Is that a joke?"

"No, my Lady, I don't think they expect us to do it on our own. Besides, I told them that we would help Quel'Thalas get rid of the Scourge first."

"Did you, now?"

I kept quiet. Sylvanas's tone was not amused, and I couldn't guess what she was thinking.

"What's the situation there?"

I told her what I knew, and saw a muscle twitch in her cheek when I mentioned Dar'Khan's name.

"Yes, I daresay we should give him the taste of true death before long," she muttered to herself. "You may go."

That was it? She wasn't going to talk to me about… about anything?

I didn't know what to make of her behavior, and figured she was still angry with me, so I just left her presence, going to my room and closing the door, getting ready for bed.

As I was getting under the sheets, I realized that they had been freshly washed, and sprinkled with lavender scent. Had Sylvanas prepared for my return, or had it been someone else?

I was almost asleep when I heard the door connecting mine to Sylvanas's chambers opening.

"Sylvanas?"

"Shh, Faith," she said to me.

It was very dark, but I knew the sound of her naked feet on the flagstones and carpets that made up the floor of my room. I tried to turn around, but she faced my head back towards the wall and climbed into bed with me.

She brushed the hair away from the back of my neck and dropped a kiss there. Her lips were freezing. I shivered and tried to speak, but she put her hand over my mouth, effectively silencing me. I smelled her, a scent of death and ice, mixed with what I knew to have been Sylvanas's smell when she'd been alive. Spices and musk.

"Don't say a word." She kissed the side of my ear, below the two hoops I wore. I made a strangled sound in the back of my throat. "Shh," she whispered. "It's okay."

One of her hands dipped between my legs, and I would have sat up and screamed had her phenomenal strength not kept me against her. As it was, I could barely make a sound as her fingers sent frozen sparks inside me. I cried out against her hand. My eyes closed. I relaxed.

Sylvanas was gone by the time I woke up several hours later. I could still feel her against me, and her aroma was on my sheets.

Still, I wondered whether it hadn't been an intensely vivid dream. I'd had plenty of dreams of her and I making love, and I hadn't been able to share those dreams with anybody, they were too graphic. But this one had been tame in comparison to the others.

So why did I feel like it hadn't been a dream? Had she really come to me?

I got dressed, still thinking about it. For once, the subject of the Scourge didn't breach my mind, and when I emerged in the throne room later on, I was still confused.

She sat on her chair, looking deep in thought. She was still as a statue, something she'd been able to do even when alive, so I had the time to admire what she was wearing. An inky black robe, ripped and torn in several places, instead of her usual armor. She wasn't wearing a cloak, I realized suddenly, so her hair was down.

It had been so shiny and beautiful in life, and now was brittle, feeling almost like dry hay rather than the silky sunshine it had been.

"Are you going to stand there and look at me all day?" she asked after a couple of minutes had passed.

"Oh, you mean I can't do that?" I cocked my head to the side, and could swear that she almost smiled. Almost. "Did you come to my room last night?"

She turned her head to look at me, "Last night?"

I nodded, "As I was falling asleep. Did you come in, or did I hallucinate the whole thing?"

"You hallucinated me coming into your room last night? To do what?"

My cheeks warmed and I wondered whether I'd be able to answer, "I…" my voice trailed off.

"Sex? You hallucinated me coming into your room for sex?" Sylvanas sounded incredulous now. "Didn't you dream that kind of stuff when I was alive?"

"I… yes." I rubbed both of my cheeks, but I'm pretty sure that made my blush worse. I was glad that it was dark in the throne room. "But you weren't alive last night."

"So you think that I came into your room last night to have sex with you. I'm dead, Faith, sex isn't even on the list of things I think about on a regular basis." She glanced at me and smirked, "But clearly, it's on your list."

"Tell me again why I came back to you?" I asked, suddenly exasperated,

"You wanted to make up for leaving me to die in Fairbreeze Village." Sylvanas's voice was cutting and I reeled back as though she'd slapped me.

"Sylvanas! I… I didn't…"

"That's your reason, isn't it? You feel guilty, and you want to make up for it?"

"This is when I tell you to go fuck yourself, Sylvanas." The moment that sentence came out of my mouth, I regretted it. Never in my life had I even considered speaking to her in that manner.

"So noted," she said to me, almost smiling again.

I turned to leave.

"Oh, Faith. One more thing."

She gracefully got to her feet and walked to me, "If you don't like your situation here, you're free to leave and never come back. But don't you dare say that word to me again." Her face was inches from mine, her glare so intense that I felt almost burned by it.

I couldn't help myself. With her that close to me, I did the only thing I could think of. My lips met hers in a soft kiss that would have probably left me reeling had she kissed me back. But she stood completely still, not acknowledging me in any way. I might as well have kissed my own hand for all the response I got.

I left, getting out of Undercity and walking about the ruins aboveground. There was a gnarled tree among the tombstones, and I liked to sit beneath it every once in a while. I didn't move from that spot for a couple of hours, just staying there and thinking.

Did I want to stay with Sylvanas and indulge her every whim? Would I be more useful elsewhere? What was it that I really wanted?

The answers to those questions were simple.

I wanted to stay with Sylvanas, yes, and not because I felt guilty. She'd gotten it wrong there, and I suspected that it had been because she'd wanted to rile me. I still loved her, no matter what she had become, and I couldn't just leave her.

There was a chance that I could be more useful elsewhere, but I was dedicated to eradicating the Scourge. I figured that staying in Undercity would allow me to do just that.

As for what I really wanted, it was impossible, so dwelling on it wasn't a good idea. My home and family were gone, and I'd never be able to go back there.

Slowly, I got to my feet and made my way back to the Catacombs, greeting a few of the Forsaken I knew by name as I approached the Magi Corps training area.

Months passed. I trained and fought with the corps, going to the remotest areas of Tirisfal Glades to root out as many fiends as possible. But still, they kept coming. I was afraid that we really would have to get into Andorhal and fight the Scourge directly, and that scared me. I wasn't afraid to die so much as afraid to be turned into one of them.

And if the Scourge weren't enough, we had rogue worgen to contend with, who infiltrated Brill several times and wreaked havoc on everyone.

I had no love for the wolves, remembering that they'd hid behind their walls while the Plague of Undeath ravaged Lordaeron and that they had refused to help us when we'd come close to their shores after leaving Quel'Thalas. In point of fact, they'd fired on one of our ships, forcing us back.

But as it happened, the worgen were the ones to cause us the most trouble one week.

It was in the form of an ambush, one I hadn't expected at all.

I'd been with the corps on the border between Tirisfal Glades and Silverpine Forest when it had happened. A worgen, enormous in stature, had leapt from behind a bush and pounced on me while its friends attacked the nine Forsaken who had been with me. I'd seen them falling one by one, ripped to shreds by the wolves, who had then dragged me, kicking and screaming, into Silverpine Forest.

I fought hard. I know I broke my captor's fingers. I gave a piercing shriek that I hoped some of my allies would hear, because I didn't think I'd live long if they didn't.

"Shut up, elf," snarled someone. I felt a sharp pain at the back of my head and my world went black.

I awoke what I assumed to be several hours later unable to see. I panicked for a moment, thinking that the blow to the head had blinded me, until I realized that I was in some sort of cave. I could hear the slow drip of water, but the air smelled relatively fresh, so there weren't any animals in the cave with me.

I was chained to a wall by my wrists, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get loose. Not even my spells seemed to do anything.

The air didn't stay fresh for long. Something struck a match, and I nearly screamed at the face staring down at me.

It was a worgen, one that looked sick. I'd never seen any of them look like that before, but this one was huge, with red-rimmed orange eyes and dirty grey-brown fur that squirmed with maggots.

"You're not a normal worgen," I said to him.

He laughed, and the smell coming from his open mouth was enough to make me dry heave. "I serve Arthas."

Arthas? Arthas got his hands on the worgen?

How was it possible? My mind reeled and I thought back to everything I knew about the Scourge. They had a small presence in Silverpine, though nothing that compared to Tirisfal Glades and the Plaguelands. But I'd never heard of a worgen being in the service of the Scourge.

As a matter of fact, the worgen were rumored to be immune to the Plague of Undeath, so how had this one been conned into joining them?

"You, my pretty, are exactly what we need to lure the Banshee Queen out of Undercity."

"Who are you?"

"They call me Fangore. And I will make you scream when your queen gets here."

Immediately determined to keep my mouth shut, I watched the worgen. Fangore was aptly named, because his fangs were covered in blood and gore. His fur was matted in places and the clothing he wore was torn and stained with unimaginable muck. I could see him working for the Scourge in the state he was in, and I couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

"How did you get like this?" I asked. I might have had no love for the worgen, but this was outrageous. "What did he promise you? Did he promise you that you could have Gilneas for yourself? Or did he promise you Undercity?" I tried to perform a spell, but my magic didn't seem to be working. Looking down, I saw why.

There was an amulet around my neck, one whose design was vaguely familiar.

"Ah, yes. You won't be able to perform magic with that around your neck, I'm afraid. An Old God forged this to repress the magic of the wearer. The longer you wear it, the less magic you'll find within you."

"I don't need magic to get out of here," I told him. The next moment, I had kicked him, hard, in a place that no living creature could stand to be kicked in. Fangore howled loudly and lashed out at me with blood-tipped claws. I moved aside and his paw struck the crumbling cave wall, which gave in.

The chains that bound me broke free from the wall and I picked them up, ripping the amulet from my neck and staggering away.

But it was pitch black, so I couldn't figure out where I was going. I stumbled, scraping my hands on some slimy rock. The chains made noise on the floor, and I knew that Fangore would probably pounce on me and rip me apart in a second.

I didn't want to die like this in a dark cave where I couldn't see an inch in front of me, swallowed by a creature who had apparently willingly given his service to the Scourge.

Fangore was following me. I could hear him snarling, and in the snarls, I heard words.

"I'm coming for you, pretty one." He gave a sinister laugh that had the effect of terrifying me. "We will kill you, and then… you will be one of us. A precious one for Arthas to wield."

Never.

Something fell on my legs, snarling and clawing. I cried out, seeing a flash of white as panic threatened to overwhelm me. A burning pain sizzled down my calf as Fangore slashed at me. I cried out again, louder this time, and threw my arm back. A spark flew from my fingers and ignited the matted fur on Fangore's snout. He howled again, and I kicked him a second time, hearing bones crunching under my boot.

A spark was all that would come from my fingers, so I used that to light my way through the cave. It wasn't much, I much preferred being able to see where I was going than being stuck in the dark.

"I'm going to rip you apart," snarled Fangore, his voice thick with blood.

I was beginning to see some light in the cave. Limping, dragging chains that seemed heavier than they'd been at first, I went towards the exit, where, for the first time, I heard the sound of fighting.

Just as I reached the entrance to the cave, Fangore cannoned into my from behind, sinking his fangs into my right shoulder. I screamed, feeling blood splattering my face, and saw someone turn toward the sound of my voice.

As I fell forward, I could swear that I saw Sylvanas pale. Her face contorted and she called out my name in a banshee's wail that made me wince.

She pounced, landing on Fangore in such a way that he rolled off me. He snarled, and the sound of a battle erupted behind me. I tried to turn to see what was going on, but couldn't. Colors were washing in and out of my field of vision, and I wanted to call out for Sylvanas, but I couldn't.

I put my head down just as I heard the unmistakable whimper of a dog in pain. A crunch reached my ears, after which there was nothing. I understood that Fangore was dead when I felt Sylvanas press something against my shoulder.

"Someone heal that before she bleeds out," she said.

"Sylvanas…" I whispered.

She knelt next to me, running a hand over my face, "You're going to be fine."

I succumbed to darkness.