Thank you all who read this last chapter! I am very thankful that you are willing to bear with me; I do tend to be long-winded. I have some more notes to make at the end, so I will see you there! Happy reading!

"Are we ready?" Cerdic whispered to Jeanne. The siblings were currently crouched behind the bushes on the outskirts of the cabin. They discovered that the cabin was absolutely crawling with Forsaken, more elves that happened to be undead and under Sylvanas's command. Jeanne took a deep breath and shifted into her cat form, giving her brother a nod when she was settled.

Cerdic unhooked the horn from his belt and blew into it. A long clear note sang through the air and gave the Forsaken pause, shuffling to ready their bows. They didn't get much chance to prepare as a massive wave of worgen dropped from the trees and charged towards them. Shouts of surprise and battle followed as both sides hit each other, punctuated by yips and snarls from the worgen. Cerdic and Jeanne waited until the strike team had hit before charging in themselves. They snuck in mostly unnoticed, the one ranger that had spotted them was quickly silenced by Jeanne's teeth.

Cerdic ran into the small cabin while they were distracted, scooped up a chest with strange markings on it, and ran back out. Jeanne was hot on his tail as soon as he stepped out, running beside him as they quickly made their retreat.

Tobias saw them escaping and yelled out, "Fall back! Retreat into the forest! Fall back!"

They heard their fellow worgen disengage and pound along after them. The fastest of them managed to catch up to them by the time they reached Tal'doren. Cerdic bound up to Crowley and handed the small chest to him. Crowley then cautiously lifted the lid and his face morphed into one of pure relief.

"I knew you two could do it. Nothing can get past your blood. On the behalf of all of humanity, thank you."

Crowley drew in the damp air and snorted, a look of concern crossing his lupine face. He turned his head towards the gathered druids and gave them a significant look, the three elves nodding their heads in return.

"This… alchemy holding the beast at bay will not hold for much longer. The elves here have told that the first worgen were Night Elf druids. They had abandoned the balance that their brethren embraced and let the beast take over their minds. It is fitting, indeed, that their people be the ones that deliver us from the same fate."

Crowley looked between the siblings, a grim look upon his face. "Go and follow their instructions. The path ahead is not an easy one and fraught with danger. More than one worgen went mad trying to regain what was lost to them."

Cerdic and Jeanne nodded and stepped towards the three elves, each standing at a well of softly glowing water. Vassandra stepped forward and looked between the two siblings, her gaze finally settling on Cerdic.

"You will go through the ceremony first, young warrior." The female druid extended her palm to him, fingers uncurling to reveal one of the moonleaves Jeanne had collected earlier. "Eat this. It will help you prepare for the ceremony."

Cerdic took it and, after giving it a cautious sniff, popped it into his mouth and chewed. He was expecting a strong, bitter taste and was pleasantly surprised at the soft, soothing texture it possessed. Vassandra nodded in satisfaction once he swallowed the leaf and gestured to the leftmost well.

"Now you must drink from each of the wells."

Cerdic blinked in surprise but proceeded, stopping before the well and looked in awe into the softly glowing liquid inside.

"I am Talran of the Wild," the druid intoned, handing the worgen a mug filled with the liquid, "and this is the Well of Tranquility. What you drink now will help you rekindle the peace and joy lost in the stream of life."

Cerdic took it and was momentarily entranced by the way it swirled softly in the mug before calmly swallowing it. Talran bowed his head momentarily and gestured to the next well that was guarded by Vassandra. The worgen followed his finger and stood in front of the she-elf, separated only by the well. She smiled briefly at him and handed him a similar mug.

"This is the Well of Balance. What you drink will keep your mind and body as one, enabling you to stand with both parts unified for the struggle you take on."

Cerdic noticed that he felt relatively the same as before as he drank the contents and was pointed towards the third and final well. The final druid looked him up and down before speaking.

"I am Lyros Swiftwind and this is the Well of Fury. What you drink will enhance the first two mugs you took and also build within you the strength you need to confront and, hopefully, command that which most risks this ritual ending in failure."

Cerdic gave him a puzzled look but, when Lyros refused to explain further, shrugged and drank it.

The druid nodded to someone behind him and spoke. "Darius Crowley, you know what needs to be done."

Cerdic jumped as he felt gentle claws on his shoulder. He allowed himself to be steered away from the well and towards the clearing in the center of the wells. He suddenly felt as if all his senses were on overdrive. He could feel the rush of air ruffling his fur, the texture of the earth beneath his paws, the dampness of the air weighing down upon them as Crowley bade him to sit, the leader of this pack joining him a moment later.

"Close your eyes," Crowley rumbled and Cerdic immediately did so, feeling his senses heighten further. He could feel everyone's eyes, including his sister's worried stare, trained upon him. "Focus. The water from the wells will aid, but you are the one who must find where to begin. For that, you must look into your memories."

"For what, exactly?"

"For those points most relevant to your life." Crowley's voice sounded softer, as if he was speaking through a dense fog. "Seek for the choices you made because of them, for good or ill. Start with the oldest you can recall. Do more than just remember them. Relive them. Be aware why you did what you did and what it means to you."

Though still confused, Cerdic nodded and hesitantly reached for the memories that were the dimmest in his mind.

He was a small boy again. A sense of peace, something he hadn't felt in a long, long time, draped over him and he took a moment to revel in that feeling. His vision was suddenly dominated by the image of his father, a stern-looking, bear of a man that he has been told that he takes after. His father's face cracked into a wide smile as he led Cerdic along by a hand towards the massive merchant ship rocking in the bay. His father's voice, gruff but gentle, soothed him as he was shown the various workings of the ship. The private moment lasted a few moments more before whirling away and another memory took its place.

This one he was a little older and looking down upon a crib, one of two in his parents' room. Inside was a teeny-tiny bundle of human with a shock of bright red hair. He felt a strong sense of warmth bloom in his chest, one that he later identified to be brotherly love, as his baby sister opened her bright green eyes to stare up at him. A smile crawled onto his face as he reached a hand, having to stand on his tip-toes to reach properly, and brushed a gentle hand across her velvety cheek.

"Don't worry, little Joanie," he heard himself whisper to her, his voice sounding impossibly young, "I'll do everything I can to keep you safe."

Cerdic found it hard to breathe around the knot in his chest as he watched himself stand back and make his way towards the second crib beside that. He heard himself repeat his promise, one made out of love for the helpless children that he still holds close to his heart.

Once again the memory was whirled away to show a scene that he struggled to keep away, not wanting to relive it. He was much older now, a man just past boyhood and freshly enrolled as a guard-in-training, when a grim-faced Genn Greymane quietly pulled him aside. The king's words were spoken softly, just above a murmur, but Cerdic heard them clearer than if he had yelled them.

"Your father is dead. The pox took him."

That was the moment, he knew, that his life had changed and he already felt the weight of responsibility on his shoulders. He realized his king was still speaking and he forced himself through the panic of his thoughts to listen.

"—will tell your siblings if you wish."

"No!" Cerdic shook his head and focused on calming himself. "No. T-they should hear i-it from m-me, if that's alright, Your Majesty."

The memory blurred slightly as if it was fast-forwarding through that time and refocused on the moment he told his beloved siblings the news.

Jeanne's screams of denial and grief hurt him to this day, nearly as much as they did then. He could feel the weight of her head as she buried her face into his broad shoulder and the cold seeping into his knees from the stone floor when they had sunk down onto it. He could feel the tears track down his cheeks, warm and salty, as his composure broke with Ammon's embrace around the both of them; their suddenly much smaller family.

The memory blurred again and suddenly he was standing at a pair of freshly covered plots, grief and dread in his heart. Beside him Jeanne stood, tears still cascading silently down her face, and beside her was Ammon, his face blank with shock. The siblings had not expected to bury both of their parents; their mother had taken her life in grief after she had learned her husband was gone. The strain of knowing that they were it showed on each of their faces. He startled when he felt a soft brush on the back of his hand but, after a quick glance down, took Jeanne's hand in his own and squeezed softly.

Cerdic let the memory go and he weighed each of the memories. Through them all he realized that they had a common theme: love. He had loved his father dearly, especially when he was learning from him, he vowed to protect his siblings out of that same love and, because of the love for his parents, he had taken their loss hard. Over the years he'd blamed himself for not taking action when he should've and vice versa. However, looking back on these memories, he realized that he was only human, so to speak, and that he cannot foresee the future. His parents, his siblings never loved him any less for being the flawed man he is.

Tranquility…

The voice startled him and he barely could keep from his eyes from flying open; the voice sounded like a combination of both his parents' and his own as a child. He felt at peace, like a heavy weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and he sought out another memory.

Another formed and he recognized it as the moment he had asked Lorna Crowley to officially court her. The young warrior, promoted to a city guard at the time and with the overbearing title of Baron, had been looking into which noble ladies to begin a courtship with. There were only two women he had been interested in from the beginning and he thought it to pretentious of him to ask the King of Gilneas for permission to court his only daughter. Though older than him by a handful of years, she had accepted and they had begun their courtship.

He watched and relived those months of escorted outings and dinners, making polite talk to try and get to know one another. It was bittersweet; he could feel the admiration for the spunky young woman grow, and yet at the same time the feeling of discontent grew. He knew, after half a year, that she was not the right choice of spouse for him. Cerdic watched the final moment between him and Lorna, feeling the guilt and then relief after she told him that the feelings were mutual. He felt her give him a chaste kiss on the cheek, heard her tell him that she'll be there for him if he needs her, and watched her leave with Gwen Armstead, her escort for the day.

The memory faded and he was left to reflect on what those memories meant to him. Those moments with Lorna, he realized, were some of the happiest moments he had since his parent's passing. They were his light in a dark, sad time, fleeting as they were. Grief and healing. Guilt and relief. Sorrow and happiness. They were both emotions that humans experience and each has its own counter; its own balancing force. A saying that his mother used to say came back to Cerdic in that moment that helped him understand.

"You cannot see the stars without the night."

Balance. The voice itself did not startle him as much as before. He was startled at the fact that it was spoken by a combination of his voice and Lorna's. For the first time in his life he felt... whole. Like he was finally in balance with himself.

With a fortifying breath, Cerdic let his mind drift, letting it pluck a memory at random. The one that materialized, however, he tried to shy away from, hot shame washing over him.

His father's study came into focus, the one he remembers in their old mansion in the Northern Headlands. However, unlike in his previous memories, the room was lit by a single candle and didn't contain his father. Instead it contained him and a fair share of wine bottles scattered about, not including the one in his fist. He sat, slumped in his father's old chair facing the large family painting his father had commissioned years ago. He took another long drag from the bottle, slammed it down on the worn desk, and squinted up at the painting.

"WHY?!" Cerdic's own voice, slurred with alcohol, startled him and he watched himself slam a fist onto the desk. "Why d-didya ha-have t'die?! You 'band-bandoned me! I don-don' wan' these r-r-hic-respon'bilities. YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE THERE FOR ME!"

Cerdic watched as his drunken self chuck his bottle of wine at the painting, shattering it on the wall below it. He felt the white-hot rage, the pure grief, and a nearly overwhelming fear crash in his heart as he watched himself shove away from the desk and stumble towards the door. That memory was whisked away only to be replaced by another, more recent one.

"I'll never figure out why the King give you back the townhouse. He reclaimed it after Papa died." That muttered comment made his heart sink and he felt the need to defend himself.

"Being the admiral of his personal navy helps things."

"A title you only inherited. Papa was the one who earned it. Besides, the King doesn't really have a navy anymore."

That comment stung like an open wound being doused in alcohol. He knew he hadn't earned it in the slightest and that weighed on him heavily. He felt anger at his sister for hurting him like this but managed to tramp down most of his emotions.

"That may be. But he isn't here now. I am the eldest so it is fitting that it goes to me."

"Though I was always the better sailor."

That snide comment, true as it was, finally snapped the dam on his temper and his rage spun him around to face his sister.

"You are a woman! It is not acceptable for you to run off like a wild harpy and do as you please!"

He knew, in this moment, that he was grasping at straws. Many noble women fought and did things for themselves, often unescorted. In that moment he needed some way to control her, some way to put her back into place as his baby sister instead of the beautiful young woman she had grown into. As soon as he uttered those words, in the heat of anger, he knew she wasn't going to let it go.

"Says who? This bleeding society that cares more for fashion and appearances than the happiness of its people?! That only wants to keep us women chained to the notion that we are nothing but helpless, weak playthings?"

The memory faded, though not the emotions. Anger, still coursed through his body like a white hot flame searing his very bones. In that moment he realized that this anger, this shame was the very forces that alienated his family from him. Ammon wanted nothing to do with him and Jeanne, his dear little sister, voiced the very thoughts that plagued him. He realized that his feeling of inadequacy, and his consequent overbearing habit and spontaneous fits of temper, was what drove the only family he had left away.

He turned on the anger, the fury, and fought to control it. He held tight to it, much like the wheel on a ship caught in a vicious storm. He held tight and fought for control on the ocean of his anger, his shame, trying to master it. He realized that his anger had been a way to protect himself and it needed another purpose. The images of his siblings and himself as young children, then as young adults formed and he suddenly knew what must be done. He needed this anger to be honed, not to hurt his family like it had been, but to protect them, like he promised so long ago. He would channel this anger as a force for his family's enemies to batter against instead of against them, only a force of defense and good.

He felt his anger break and subside to his will. Now it will serve Cerdic as a force of defense and not shield him from his true emotions.

Tranquility… Balance… Fury… He recognized this voice as his own and of another that he did not, though it felt as if he should.

The beast must be conquered so that the man may rise… The rage must be the servant to the man to be… complete…

He felt his fury rise again, but only at his direction. It was now tied to his strength, strength he will use in defense of his family. He reveled in it, feeling not only the love of his brother and sister, but of both his parents as he tested it. It was now a weapon, honed and sharp, to be used and not as a means to hurt those he holds closest.

He felt a shift in the very depths of his being and he jolted out of the trance and onto his forearms. He groaned, sounding oddly high, as a bolt of ice shot through his veins and warmth replace it. He dimly heard howls from the worgen pack around him as he focused on regaining his breath. Cerdic's vision regained its focus and a jolt of shock and joy shot through his being.

His forearms were human.

Alright, first of all, the details of the ritual is heavily inspired by the one written in Wolfheart by Richard A. Knaak. If you haven't read it already, then I recommend doing so. It's a good story. I felt that the standard 'drink from these wells and POOF! human again' from the quest was lacking.

Second is that, though there's not much actual action, I feel this is an important chapter. I chose to do this from Cerdic's perspective because I felt that Jeanne had been getting much of the spotlight and there hasn't been enough focus on the other siblings. Also, Cerdic needed a way to show his character and his motives and this was the perfect area to do that. He needs some love!

Thank you for reading this far! Review if you wish and I will see you next chapter!