I didn't want to. I did everything I could not to, but he kept coming at me, his eyes blazing and daggers flashing. And when he was down, bleeding out in my arms I knelt there with him and wept harder than I have ever wept before. Why, I asked him. What did I do to make you hate me so? But he did not answer, only opened his eyes once more and I recoiled at the malice in them. Something had happened to him, or perhaps it was something that was there all along, that I had been blind to until now. They had warned me, though I despised them for it. Gether never liked him and Jeneira always frowned when I spoke of him. Only Jansen seemed to get along with him, but perhaps he had been fooled as well. All I know is that last look was all it took to convince me that my Ranken was gone, had died long before now. And then, while his eyes held mine, his hand moved unseen and fire burst in my side, and my pain was the last thing he saw…

Dawnwaker woke with a gasp and then froze, holding silent as she took in the wooden ceiling above and tried to remember where she was. It came back slowly, but she went through everything carefully and built the images around her. She was in the guild house of the Knights of Stormwind, and she had been healed by Tariq. Tariq's alive. Not dead. I'm not either.

"Jalyria?"

That was Anna's voice. She turned her head slightly to find the woman sitting in a chair, but she couldn't make out her expression. The room seemed to have gone fuzzy the moment she moved, and for a moment she was afraid the curse had her in its grip once more. But there was no pain.

"Jalyria?" The priestess' voice came once more, but it sounded far off. "What's wrong?"

"Just tired…" It was all she could do to mumble the two words before she fell back into a deeper sleep than before. But dreams still followed her.

The rogue stood on the deserted road outside the ruined city, calling curses down upon the back of the Banshee Queen as she returned to her kingdom, the sentence pronounced and carried out. All followed her, save me, and when the last of the guards had passed through the crumbling arch of the gateway I remained, not out of any sense of purpose, but because I was lost. I had given him everything, and he had turned on the city and people who had welcomed him and now judgement had been handed down.

"What will it be then?" He turned to me and his voice was harsh. "Well, Jal? Me or them?"

My voice broke when I answered. Couldn't he see how much this pained me? Did he even care about what he'd done? Surely he knew me well enough to know that I would not follow him in blind infatuation, that I had at last begun to see him for the sort of person he was. My answer angered him. I could tell he had thought that I would go with him into his exile, and now he felt as betrayed as I did. The practical side of me felt satisfaction, that he should feel the same pain I did was justice. But the rest of me ached for him, and even as he spat in the dirt and turned away I longed to run after him, to leave everything else behind and put all my trust in his support…ah, but that was why I stayed. I was no fool, and he had had his chances and proved himself to be spiteful and unreliant. I could not trust him. And so I stood, shaking, by the side of the stone road and watched him ride away without so much as glance behind and my pain followed me from that day forth, unceasing…

The light streaming in from the open window had changed since last time she woke; then it had been weak, but now it was full. Midday, then, or something like. Anna held a cup to her lips and she drank gratefully and tried to give her an apologetic look before she sank back into the dreams. It was strange, the waking and the sleeping, sometimes she would wake enough to speak, other times she would just catch a glimpse of the room before her eyes fell shut. But with each time she woke she felt stronger, as if she were experiencing days of recovery in mere hours. It was a small comfort, and her frustration grew as she remembered her need to deliver the warning, to find and protect the lives of all the endhi in and around her guild...

The night elf difficult to see, far away and between the trees, but it was not the night elf I was interested in. He was riding a large black Darnassian nightsaber, the finest I had ever seen. Ranken caught the direction of my stare and a grin spread over his face.

"Go on then."

I glanced at him and shook my head, but I looked longingly back at the mount. It was beautiful, even from this distance, thick dark fur that shimmered when it moved, strong muscles putting the paws exactly where they needed to go, glistening fangs…it was a marvel of nature, a beast that could carry and fight alongside its rider. But it was not mine, and I was unlikely to ever have the opportunity to own one. The night elves, endhi and indigenous alike, guarded them carefully, they were not for the Horde. I met a Forsaken once who had caught one wandering one of the battlefields just after the Rising, but I did not begrudge him his good fortune. I would not trade rising on those battlefields for all the nightsabers in Azeroth.

With a sigh I turned to go, following the steep wooded track further under cover, but Ranken did not follow me soundlessly as he should have. Instead an arrow twanged past my ear and I whirled in time to see him lower his bow, still facing the direction the night elf on the saber had gone.

"What are you-"

"There you are then. Consider it a gift from me."

I looked. The night elf had changed course, weaving in and out of the trees. Ranken's first arrow had gone wide, as an accurate shot was impossible in this thick stand of evergreens. His second flew much closer though, and the night elf altered direction accordingly, now rumbling closer and closer to us. My hair stood on end as I looked from Ranken to the thundering nightsaber, but he seemed content now that he had drawn the elf's attention and faded into the shadow of a large spruce, leaving me in the open. I opened my mouth to tell him exactly what I thought of that, but then the night elf was upon me, fire blossoming from his fingertips as he leapt off the saddle. I dodged the stream of flame easily and danced aside, but his second volley of arcane energy was much more accurate, it grazed my arm where the space yawned between spaulder and bracer. His intent was clear, and I was angry, even more so when his hood slipped and I caught a glimpse of his eyes. He was endhi, like me, and yet here he came, trying to kill me! I flung my own hood back to give him a good look at my face as I plunged the dagger into his heart, and the shock in his eyes echoed through my thoughts for many days to come. I stood over the prone form, panting, as my thoughts began to catch up to what had just happened. But then Ranken's hand was on mine and he handed me the reins of the nightsaber.

"Nicely done, darling. Enjoy your spoils."

I took them them and mounted automatically, and we left the mage in the dust underneath the trees, but the pain in my arm seared through for weeks afterward...

The couriers suspected nothing, plodding their way slowly through the Plaguemist Ravine on their sturdy rams, their minds full of the warmth and welcome of Aerie Peak, only three days ride southwest. The Hinterlands were nothing compared to the plaguelands from whence they had come, and the tall stands of firs seemed to welcome them home. But then, they could not know what the trees concealed. There were only two rogues, and three couriers, but I knew my own strength, and that of the blood elf beside me, and the lot below would be no match. If all went well, I wouldn't have to lift a finger. Ranken stood beside me, tall and strong, dependable as the rock in whose shadow we hid. I leaned out slightly to check the distance on our targets and his arm caught me about the waist and pulled me back undercover.

"Careful now, Jal. Don't want to give away our position."

I glared at him out of habit, though I knew very well that he wasn't patronizing me. He knew my ability well enough, but that never stopped him from taking any excuse he could get to slip his arms around me. I think it must have reassured him in a way, to know we'd never be parted. Predictably enough he came in for a kiss at this point, but I pulled away.

"We're working, smart stuff. Time enough after."

He gave me a cocky grin and let me go, then unstrapped his bow and strung it swiftly as I did the same with mine. Then, raising them in perfect unison, we aimed at the two couriers in the back. The arrows flew true and the two dwarves fell. The third caught this out of the corner of his eye and raised a horn to his lips and spurred his ram to a run, but we were already moving. Ranken's second arrow, hastily shot, struck the flank of the mount. It bleated and fell to its knees, throwing the courier. I was there before he could attempt to rise, my knife at his throat.

"Don't move."

Ranken was coming lazily down the slope now, keeping a nonchalant watch on the road. The dwarf looked up at me with disdain in his eyes. I questioned him, but he refused to spill. This was expected. I used force, but he remained firm. And then I reached the limit of what I thought permissible, and he had still not talked. Then Ranken shouldered me aside and knelt by the dwarf, brandishing his knife. The blade glittered with poison and he scratched the tip down the courier's face without ceremony, calmly repeating my question. The dwarf screamed in pain, but Ranken did not stop. Eventually the answer we wanted was ours, and he dispatched the shrieking dwarf quickly. I stood there numb, still attempting to work through what had just happened. He turned and offered me a hand up, and I responded automatically, thinking not to give my thoughts away.

"We were supposed to do it quietly."

"You miss the point. We got it done."

He was right. Now when he leaned in for a kiss, I gave it to him, for getting the job done, and for doing what I could not. The pain in the dwarf's eyes I tried to forget but I think it followed me from that day on…

"You can't!" I screamed in frustration, but the mage's face was smug. I gave it up for loss and stormed out of the chamber, the eyes of the other guild masters following me in consternation. They should have known by now that Magus Worderly would never agree with anything I said, with any suggestion I made. He seemed to have taken an immediate disliking to me. I stumbled through the dark, pushing against stone in blind rage, until a hand caught mine and arms folded me into a tight embrace and I stood trembling while Ranken muttered plans for the mage's imminent demise in my ear until Gether came to tell us the meeting was over and that Worderly had been overruled…

His breath was warm on my neck as he buckled on the last of my armor and ran a hand down my arm, whispering for me to take care and come back to him safely…

They came in, three abreast, the two on the outside supporting Jansen, who appeared to have lost enough to blood to have difficulty remaining conscious. The one on the left I knew, he was one of Shadowshield, but the one on the right was a new face, and his eyes leapt immediately to mine and held them. They were brilliant, those blazing green endhi eyes, and they haunted my dreams ever since. Even now…when the dreams are more like nightmares…

I held him and wept and despite my love the dagger struck-

Dawnwaker woke with a gasp, sitting up and clutching her side instinctively, shaking her head in an attempt to rid it of the images. Ranken Burnbright was gone, long gone, and had no right to invade her mind now, not when so much needed doing. She had mourned him on the way back to Undercity and then dried her tears before entering the gates, determined not to bear him with her. Still, she gritted her teeth and the hand at her side spasmed as she bent her will to banishing the memories back to the darkest recesses of her mind. No more sleep for her today, lest the dreams try to force their way back in.

"Does it still hurt that badly?"

She jumped as her head whipped around to the chair at the side of the bed. Instead of Anna, the night elf druid sat there, relaxed, arms folded, and eyeing her with a curiously inscrutable expression. She opened her mouth to answer, but no sound came out as her mind tried to unravel what he had asked. Yes, would have been her immediate answer, but a moment's thought reminded her that he must mean the wound that had festered for so long and she stumbled over her words in her haste to answer and cover up the long pause.

"N-no. It's fine. It, ah, was gone, after you…after you brought me back."

Tariq's brow furrowed at this and he leaned forward, uncrossing his arms. "May I see?" He spoke eagerly underneath the thin veneer of concern, in the voice of a boy who wanted to know if an experiment had succeeded. She obliged him, pulling up her shirt just far enough to reveal the clear skin where the wound had crawled angrily only ten days ago. He reached out and touched her with the very tips of his fingers, as if to reassure himself that what he saw was no trick.

"And no pain?"

To tell him the truth would be to reveal more than she cared to. "None," she answered, letting her shirt fall back down and leaning away from him slightly. It was one thing to let a healer check her wounds, a touch like that was quite another. He got the message quickly enough and leaned back in his chair.

"So you think the curse is gone completely."

She dragged her mind back to the more pressing issues at hand and searched herself for any hint of the phantom pain, any hint of broken bones. But her nerves told her that she was in excellent health, if a little stiff, and she nodded.

"Your cure seems to have worked."

"Good." He stood up abruptly. "I'll be going then."

"Going?" Her voice rose in pitch without intention, but the mere idea of him heading off after the guilds without her reminded her Menethil Harbor in a nasty way. The look he gave her was not reassuring, even if his words were meant to be.

"I'm heading out tonight. I'll meet you in the forest tomorrow."

She threw back the blankets and made as if to stand up. "I'll just come with you now."

"No." He planted two firm hands on her shoulders and forced her back down. "You still need rest. And we have a plan, which dictates I leave now, and you leave later."

"And no one thought to ask me how I felt about it?" Her voice was rising even higher now, and was probably carrying well beyond the walls, but she didn't care. "You've assuaged your guilt and healed me, and now you've got a fool proof plan to leave me behind? Well, let's just see if I ever let you out of my sight again, Tariquelan Eventide! And give that back to me!" She swung her feet over the side of the bed once more and jabbed a finger at the chain just visible around his neck. He frowned and fingered it, then drew it up over his head. The deep red gem swung heavy in the golden bracket as he held it out to her, and she snatched it back quickly, running a finger over it as if to check for damage. So intent was she on the amulet that she didn't notice when he sat down beside her and sighed heavily.

"Do you trust me, Jalyria?"

Her fingers stilled on the red stone as her jaw stiffened. The first words to rise to her lips were accusatory, but the gentle tone he used gave her pause and calmed her down enough to give her a reason to bite the angry response off and think before she spoke. She didn't want to trust him, especially not with the dream-memories so fresh in her mind, but she was a logical person, and the facts loomed before her, insisting on being noticed. Did she trust him with her life? His actions in the Burning Steppes made that answer very easy. Did she trust him with the lives of her guild, with the lives of all the endhi? She had seen the way he cared for his own people, and he had kept the amulet safe. So the answer was yes there as well. But lives were one thing, and hearts and minds were another. They could also wait for another day, lives were enough for now.

"Here." She handed the amulet back to him, lowering the chain carefully back into his open palm. "You had better hold onto that, at least until we're out of the city."

He closed his fingers over it and stared at her moment while she tried to avoid his eyes as best she could.

"What is this, Jal? Why is it so important?"

"It's our trump card," she said dully. "Our get-out-jail-free, last ditch all-hope-is-lost secret weapon. But we have to get it to the Dark Portal. I don't think it will work anywhere else."

"Is this…our way home?"

The hope in his voice pained her. "No. But it may ensure we live a little longer here than we are likely too at the moment."

He stared at her a moment longer, then drew the chain back over his head and let the gem fall beneath his shirt.

"I'll take care of it."

"I know you will."

He stood to go but she spoke before he could reach the door.

"And do you trust me, Tariq?"

He paused, the muscles in his back tensing noticeably, and she felt an unexpected disappointment course through her. His silence was expected, for what had she done to earn his trust? Certainly she had raced to Lakeshire to save his life, but that seemed small in the face of everything he'd done for her. She had asked the question with no clear intention, and she was startled to realized that she had wanted a yes, that she was not satisfied with anything else. But what could she possibly do? Her faults and crimes seemed too large to overcome, it was her very nature she would have to change to deserve his trust, and she might as well uproot the world tree as try to tear out her own core. For the first time she was ashamed without reservation of the qualities that made her such a good leader and fighter, her unyielding determination and cold logic that allowed her to take lives without regard. No, disappointed as she was, it was good for him not to trust her, and she said so.

"You are wise to be careful, but I must warn you to be more careful still. Destruction follows me wherever I go. You should have an idea about what you're getting into before committing to it."

He turned then, and she could almost hear his responses in her own mind, a rebuke that she would even think to suggest he abandon his guild, that he should stay in the city while they were massacred. But instead his eyes fixed on hers with an odd expression and he said something she did not understand.

"I am not wise, Jalyria. I know exactly what I'm getting into, and like a fool I continue to walk straight for it." He appeared to want to add something more, but after a moment he turned abruptly and left the room, leaving Dawnwaker feeling quite bereft and more lost than ever in this hostile city in the midst of a hostile land.

She wasn't sure how long she sat there on the edge of the bed, her feet dangling a few inches above the floor and her eyes fixed unfocused on the wooden beams against which the door swung. The light streaming in from the window was the dull gold of late afternoon, and she thought absently that she must have slept nearly all day. That didn't matter much to her; her thoughts were chasing each other in such rapid circles that after a little bit she thought she ought to lie down again before she made herself dizzy. But sleep would not come now, and though she was grateful for no more dreams, some dark oblivion would have been nice to shield her mind from the confusion it found itself in.

Eventually the door opened again and Anna entered, carrying a tray of something that steamed. For the first time Dawnwaker realized how hungry she was, and she took the food eagerly as the priestess lowered herself into the empty chair.

"Sitting up now, are we?"

Dawnwaker didn't respond, as her mouth was full of stew. Anna regarded her with raised eyebrows for a moment, then sighed and sat back in her chair.

"I don't know how Tariq's done it. You ought to be recovering several days at least, but you seem good as new."

The rogue shrugged. The little she knew of healing was all to do with basic first aid and bandages, and she had never given thought to understanding something so far from her abilities as the complexities of healing talents. Still, Anna seemed quite perplexed by the results of Tariq's cure. It might be worth asking about whenever she saw him again. After carefully finishing up the last few drops of broth and cleaning out the inside of the bowl she reached for an orange and began peeling it slowly.

"So what is this plan Tariq hinted at?"

"He didn't tell you?"

Dawnwaker shifted uneasily and reached behind her to adjust one of the pillows. "I wasn't exactly in an inquisitory mood earlier." Her mind went back to before that particular day in the Burning Steppes and she grimaced. "Actually, that was the first civil conversation we've had in a while. There was no reason to push it."

Anna's eyes crinkled. "You mean you've been fighting?"

"I mean we've had our disagreements. Being Horde and Alliance will do that."

"Mmm."

She looked at the priestess sharply, but the older woman wasn't giving anything away. She merely smiled and answered the original question.

"Tariq left tonight to avoid suspicion. He's been watched closely ever since his return, and we thought it best if he left as separately and alone as possible. Now to get you out, that's the tricky bit. But Jon-that's the rogue you met last night-he's come up with something quite clever. Tomorrow morning, two guards will escort one prisoner out into the forest to be executed. Since you and Jon are about the same size, you'll wear his armor. Erik-he's the hunter-will be the other guard, and Jon will play the prisoner. You will rendezvous with Tariq in the forest, where you will give Jon back his armor, and the two of them will return to the city as guards and you and Tariq can be on your way with Stormwind none the wiser."

Dawnwaker considered this in silence. The plan did have merit, and would probably work better than attempting to sneak out on her own.

"What about supplies?"

"Tariq is taking all you need with him tonight."

That took care of that then. But there was one other thing. "And the men watching this house?"

"Jon and Erik are leaving on errands in the morning. Apparently they aren't usually followed. Jon suggested you use your "stealthy talents" to exit via a window and join them where they've stashed the armor and horses."

She snorted. "Didn't think that part out quite as well as the rest did they?"

"He's a rogue, you're a rogue. I think he thought you could handle it."

Dawnwaker sighed and used a fingernail to squeeze a seed out of the slice of orange before popping it into her mouth. "I can." She shook her head. "I'm so tired Anna."

"Tariq said that would pass."

"This…recovery, or whatever, yes, I'm sure it will. But the journey is far from finished."

"It will be over soon enough."

But the blood elf only shook her head and turned her gaze back to the window. The priestess could have no idea of the nature of the burden she had chosen for herself, or of its duration. But still, the older woman had an aura about her that seemed to encourage trust, and weary as she was Dawnwaker felt a need to confide even a small part of her fears in someone. "May I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"If there was a way to send everyone else home, but you had to remain in Azeroth, would you do it?"

Only silence answered her, and when she turned back from the window she found Anna regarding her with a furrowed brow.

"That's a difficult one, Jalyria." The priestess pursed her lips for a few moments more, then continued in a slow, measured voice. "I long to go back to our world, as does every endhi, or nearly so. I have a family there, children, who are wondering what became of their mother. But I have children here too, now, and people who rely on me. If I had such a way to send them home, how could I not? And yet…I don't know if I have the strength for such a task, to remain behind in this world, alone, the last of my kind. But even now my memories of our world fade, day by day, so perhaps it would grow easier with time."

"What if…what if this task required you to do things, horrible things? Things for which you would become reviled by the very people you sought to help?"

Anna's gaze was piercing now, as if she was trying to look all the way down into the rogue's most private thoughts. "How could you be reviled by the very people you are sending home?"

Dawnwaker sighed and popped the last slice of orange into her mouth and lay back against the pillows. "There are ways, Anna. There are always ways."

The priestess frowned, but began gathering up the remnants of the meal. "Try and sleep tonight. You'll need all your strength for the day ahead."

Dawnwaker did not answer, and Anna left her without another word. Not until long after she was gone did the rogue think guiltily that she ought to have said goodbye to the woman, just in case she did not see her again, but now it was too late. Now her only responsibility was to wait patiently for morning and rest…

I held him and wept and despite my love the dagger struck, and all I felt from then on was pain, only pain.