Three weeks passed by without incident, and Eliana began to wonder if the worst of the demon threat had passed. There had been no massive, recent influx of demons, but that didn't mean the ones who had been bested had not left their mark. Much of Kalimdor was decimated, a shell of the majestic, beautiful continent it had once been not so long ago. Lord Ravencrest's scouts had brought back reports that devastated them all: the demons had reached farther than they'd all thought.

The center of Kalimdor was nothing more than a ravaged plain. Settlements in the vicinity of Zin-Azshari were no longer inhabitable, or salvageable; there was little to no trace of them having ever been there at all. The farther one rode from the capital, the visible damage abated, but those who weren't near the epicenter had still been affected. Thousands of Night Elves had perished. Civilians and soldiers alike, their people had suffered a harsh and cruel fate.

None felt the loss more than the Sisters of Elune.

After the initial onslaught of the demons, the priestesses struggled to recover. Like Lord Ravencrest's forces and what little remained of the Moon Guard, they tried to replenish their numbers and morale, but it was proving to be difficult.

Priestesses of Elune normally came to the Temple in their youth as initiates. When so many of their people had perished, many parents were reluctant to let their younglings leave their sight. Then, it took time to train an initiate, in both the matters of their faith and in the art of battle. There was only so much they could do in such a short amount of time.

And time did not wait. Though the demons came in lesser amounts, they still came. The urgency for action and progress was present in every waking moment of every day that passed.

Every single day, the combined forces of their army fought to drive back the demons as much as possible. That was precisely part of the problem. Their enemies' numbers were so great, and they came so regularly, that it was impossible to be everywhere at once.

Eliana was experiencing that firsthand right at this very moment.

The Temple of Elune had been designated as a sort of triage for the war effort. Those that were injured were brought to the Temple for healing and assistance. Once they were well again, they left. If they were soldiers, they returned to Black Rook Hold. If they were civilians, they returned to their designated homes within the new, safer borders of the city. With the demons' unrelenting advancement, the sisters were occupied more often than not. Rarely did they get a full day's rest, and there were some days where they didn't sleep at all.

Eliana finished uttering a prayer of healing before wrapping a soldier's calf with linen bandages; it had been shot clean through with an arrow. He thanked her with reverence in his eyes, and she laid a gentle hand upon his shoulder before rising to her feet.

The emotion and gratitude that she saw in each soldier's eyes when she healed them, both inspired her and left her feeling emptier than before. Of course she was happy that she was of use, and that she was helping save lives. It was better than the utter devastation she'd felt on the battlefield all those weeks ago.

But at the same time, with each soldier she aided, she found herself wondering whether this would ever end. She shouldn't need to heal her brethren. Or at least, not life-threatening wounds. She should be spending her days in the Temple's courtyard, coordinating festivals, offering prayers of reassurance to whomever asked. Not prayers that desperately tried to prevent the cold feeling of a soul passing through to the other side.

Once she walked away from the soldier, she swept her forearm across her brow, wiping the sweat that had beaded on her skin. The moon was at its apex in the sky, but the level of exhaustion she felt was more akin to how she would feel at sunrise.

She came to a stop at the edge of the Temple's veranda and leaned against one of the massive columns. With a sigh, she gazed up at the moon, deep in thought.

Much had changed in the past few weeks. Illidan had been officially accepted into Lord Ravencrest's ranks, but not as a mere soldier. His more accurate, official title would be along the lines of the commander's personal sorcerer. With the queen and her guard holed up tight within the palace, he'd taken to commanding what remained of the Moon Guard—a position he filled quite naturally, in Eliana's opinion.

Tyrande was wary of his quick ascension to a position of power, but war called for hasty and necessary moves that may not have otherwise occurred. Malfurion, too, was hesitant, but it was clear to all of them how much the promotion made Illidan happy. There was a new purpose in his stride, a new goal to keep him driven.

Both she and Tyrande had been elevated to fully-fledged priestesses, due to the demand and urgency that a war brought with it. When they weren't needed for healing, they spent much of their time trying to train what few initiates remained.

Eliana's eyes had just slid shut from exhaustion, when a familiar voice called out from behind her.

"Are you falling asleep on watch, Sister?"

With her eyes still closed, a fond smile spread across Eliana's face. "Hardly, Tyrande. I'm simply resting my eyes."

Tyrande's musical laughter filled the air and once she'd sobered, she noted, "It has been a long day already."

Eliana hummed in agreement, and finally opened her eyes. When she looked over at Tyrande, she noted how the other priestess' hair was unruly and frazzled as if she'd been running her hands through it constantly. Concerned, she cinched her eyebrows. "Are you all right?"

Though normally positive and upbeat, Tyrande let out a sigh that sounded drained. "I am fine, if you are asking how I feel physically. I am tired, but aren't we all?"

"Then what is bothering you?"

Tyrande stared out across the city to the forest beyond. "It is difficult for me to be here, within the city's relatively safe walls. It makes me feel...privileged, sheltered. I know that is not the truth, yet it is how I feel."

Eliana followed her friend's gaze. "I understand. You'd rather be out there, fighting to save our people, to keep them safe."

"Exactly." Tyrande faced Eliana with a focused expression. "You were out there during the first few battles. How was it?"

Eliana pushed off of the column, crossing her arms as she turned to face the view head-on. "It was...terrifying. Death surrounded me, all the time, and there was nothing I could really do about it. The most that I could do was try to ease the soldiers' pain and suffering as much as possible, so they could pass on in peace. The demons are beyond anything we could've imagined. I was lucky to make it back alive."

"But did you feel like you were helping the cause? Did it feel right to be out there, beside the soldiers?"

Unsure of how to answer Tyrande's loaded question, Eliana remained silent for a few seconds. Finally, she replied, "It did, in some ways. While you're on the front lines, you feel more of a sense of purpose. There is an urgent call to do as much as you can—a call that you cannot ignore. But there are also ways in which I felt more useless than I cared to admit to anyone.

"We are trained to fight in the name of Elune, yes, but it is on a different scale than the soldiers. Often times, I found myself asking how much good I was actually capable of doing out there. Would I better used here, at the Temple? Or perhaps I was simply in the way. Things like that."

At first, Tyrande didn't reply. A minute later, in a quiet voice, she said, "Sometimes I find myself wondering what our true purpose is. I know that we are here in the Temple because this is where Elune needs us to be. We are still helping, because we tend to the soldiers who are brought to us. We bring them relief, both physical and spiritual. However…" She trailed off as she turned around, away from the view of the city. "For my own selfish reasons, I wish that I could be out there, doing everything I can to protect those that we love."

Understanding spread through Eliana, and she noted, "You want to be fighting alongside Malfurion and Illidan."

Tyrande shook her head before clarifying, "I want to protect them. If that means fighting by their sides, then yes."

"You might get your wish sooner than you expect, Tyrande," Eliana muttered under her breath.

Off in the distance, the ramparts of Black Rook Hold could barely be seen above the canopy of trees. Things had been so busy at the Temple, and she suspected at the Hold as well, that they'd had little opportunity to speak to the Stormrage brothers. They hadn't seen them since a couple of days after they'd returned to Suramar. Cytheas, too, had been occupied since their return. She'd only seen him once, and it was a fleeting glance with little opportunity for conversation.

Despite having been out of contact with them, it was clear to everyone in the capital that something would be happening soon. A pall had settled over the city, and especially the Temple. Just this morning, High Priestess Dehjana had instructed all of the instated priestesses to prepare their battle armor.

If that hadn't been enough evidence of the coming action, there was this...feeling in the air. It was nearly tangible—the pressure and mounting tension—and Eliana wondered when the messenger would arrive from Lord Ravencrest, instructing them all to ride out.

As if on cue, when Eliana reached out to lay a comforting hand on her friend's shoulder, a fellow priestess pushed through the colossal, gilded doors that marked the Temple's entrance. At the echoing sound, both females looked up and watched their sister approach.

When she stood just in front of them, she said, "Forgive me for interrupting, sisters, but the High Priestess wishes to speak to you, Tyrande."

Tyrande assured her that she'd be in momentarily, and once the other female walked away, she faced Eliana. "Do you think this is it?"

"I don't see what else it could be."

A thoughtful expression crossed Tyrande's face. "I suppose we'll find out," she muttered, lifting her skirts and heading back into the temple.

Eliana watched her friend go, before looking over her shoulder at the ebony fortress beyond the city. An uncomfortable tightness in her chest radiated outwards, taking over her entire body until even her toes were curled in anxiety. It was followed by an ominous sense of dread that quickly swept over her, and under her breath, she said, "Yes, I suppose we will."

Two hours later, per High Priestess Dehjana's instruction, the Priestesses of Elune rode out for Black Rook Hold.

As they proceeded towards the city gates, the refugees of the war stopped to watch them pass by. Clad from head to toe in burnished silver armor, with cloaks that shimmered as if the moon's rays had been woven into them, they must've been a sight to behold on their fierce saber cats.

Deep within Eliana's own heart, however, she held no level of awe for their circumstance. Though they were splendid in their grace and display of power, their reason for such was nowhere near as glorious. It had not been the first day the demons arrived, and it still was not now.

But war was never glorious to those who only wished for peace.

Because of the sheer size of their procession, it took them a little bit longer than usual to reach Black Rook Hold. When they had barely come around the bend in the path, High Priestess Dehjana called for them to halt. Eliana pulled back on Kal'Shalla's reins, and once the dust had settled, she peered around the treeline, curious as to the reason for their abrupt stop.

Lord Ravencrest had assembled his troops out in the plains before the hold. Standing in even, organized rows, the entirety of their force was equal parts intimidating and sobering. She stared at the soldiers with a sort of ambivalence. If they were going to try and defeat the demons at their base, then they had good numbers. With good numbers, however, came numerous deaths, and it was that knowledge that had Eliana feeling more disheartened than before.

At her side, Tyrande scanned the ranks intently, presumably looking for a familiar face. The High Priestess urged her group forward, and once they were near enough to the main force, she instructed them to fall in. After commanding them to stay where they were, she rode off to meet Lord Ravencrest for instructions.

A few minutes later, an irritated sigh left Tyrande and Eliana asked, "Do you not see them?"

"There are so many soldiers out here, it's nearly impossible for me to pick anyone out from their ranks."

"It's a good thing for you that I've been watching for you two, then," a male voice called out to them from their right.

Both priestesses glanced over in the direction of the voice, and when Eliana saw Cytheas' familiar form, she exclaimed in excitement before quickly dismounting and rushing over to him. He chuckled and was barely out of his saddle before she collided with him, hugging him tightly in relief.

"I'm so glad you're all right, Cyth," she murmured into his chest.

"I feel the same way," he replied, pulling back from her embrace. After fondly tapping her nose, he tilted his head towards the back of the ranks. "Come with me. I'll bring you to the Stormrage brothers."

"Thank you, Cytheas," Tyrande said by way of a greeting as she dismounted her saber.

He led them towards the Hold's gates, walking alongside Il'hadras. Eliana ran her fingers through the sabercat's fur, thankful that Cytheas' mount had also survived thus far. When they were but a few steps away, Malfurion's trademark, forest green mane came into view. Tyrande sucked in a breath before sprinting ahead of them.

The two of them continued walking towards the gates, and Eliana smiled when Tyrande draped her arms around Malfurion's neck. Her smile widened in amusement when she saw Malfurion's cheeks darken in embarrassment, before he wound his arms around his friend's waist in return.

A moment later, Illidan appeared from behind the gates. When he spoke to Tyrande, she pulled back from Malfurion, equally as flushed. Quickly, they embraced, and Cytheas and Eliana approached the trio.

"Look who I've brought," Cytheas greeted, nudging Eliana forward. She glanced back at him in annoyance; he was acting like the big brother who thrived on embarrassing their younger sister.

When she faced forward again, she barely had a moment to compose herself before Illidan enveloped her in a tight embrace. Caught off guard, she gasped in surprise, and ended up breathing in his familiar, comforting scent.

With tears of relief in pooling in her eyes, she wrapped her arms around his broad back as much as she could reach. "Illidan," she sighed in greeting.

He didn't say anything in response, simply tightened his arms ever-so-slightly before letting her go. "I'm glad to see that you are well, Eliana—" His expression clouded over with concern as he traced his thumb under her puffy, tired eyes. "—though you look exhausted."

"I am," she admitted. "Things have been hectic at the Temple, though I assume you've all been busy here, too."

"Quite," Cytheas piped up. "We've been assembling the troops as they've come in from other settlements."

Beside Malfurion, Tyrande said, "The High Priestess hopes that our numbers will help as well. I'll be there with you on the front lines this time."

"You what?" both Malfurion and Illidan exclaimed, looking sharply over at her.

Eliana rolled her eyes at their response. It was like Illidan and Cytheas complaining about her wanting to be on the front lines with them all over again. Next to her, Cytheas laughed under his breath. He must've guessed at her line of thought.

Under their unexpected, combined ire, Tyrande shifted in place. "I've been instructed to command a small troop of novices. We're not only here to heal, we're here to help fight."

The brothers opened their mouths to lecture her—or at least, Eliana assumed that's what they were going to do—but the sounding of a horn interrupted them. It was followed shortly after by another horn, and then another. The loud, blaring signal rippled down through the ranks until the unit right beside the group sounded their horn, too.

Eliana cringed at the ear-shattering volume, and Cytheas gestured to someone behind her before explaining, "We're moving out soon. You two might want to return to your group."

Tyrande nodded. "I just wanted to come and wish you luck and safety—to all three of you, of course."

Malfurion and Illidan responded similarly, before embracing her. Eliana and Cytheas did the same, and before he pulled away, he whispered into her ear, "Be safe, Eli. I want to see you alive at the end of all of this."

"I could say the same to you," she murmured in response.

With a smile that was tinged with sadness, he ruffled her hair affectionately before disappearing into the ranks. She took a deep breath, trying not to imagine the worst scenarios that potentially awaited all of them. All she could do was have faith, and believe that Elune would bring them all together again, alive and well, when all of this was over.

Illidan touched her shoulder and she faced him with glassy eyes. He offered a wry smile, before brushing an errant tear that had slid down her cheek away. "Aren't you supposed to be inspiring us to stay safe?"

"Yes, I am. I gave into my fear and worry that we all might not make it. I'm so sorry, Illi—"

He interrupted her by pulling her into his arms again. "Don't apologize for that. It would be stupid and a mistake to not feel afraid, but if you stay focused on winning every individual battle, you'll survive—just like you did the first time. Don't think about the grand scheme of things. That's how you'll stay alive, and that's how we'll see one another after this is all over."

She sniffled, and reached up to place her hand on his upper arm. "Thank you, Illidan. You'll stay safe, too, won't you?"

After he pulled back, his smile morphed into something more genuine. Teasingly, he replied, "Of course. I live for this."

His attempt at humor elicited a quiet laugh from her. Behind Illidan, Malfurion shook his head in obvious reproach. "We should go, brother."

With one last loaded, imploring look, Illidan stepped away from her, and the Stormrage brothers were gone. Tyrande slipped her hand into Eliana's. When she glanced over at her friend, Tyrande asked, "Are you ready, Eliana?"

With newfound determination in her gaze, she nodded. "I'm ready. These demons have made a grave mistake. Our people will not go down without a fight."

A/N:

First off, I'm sorry that after such a long wait, all I have for you is a filler chapter. Originally, I wanted this to be far longer but what I had written ended up sitting for over a month because of my summer classes. In the end, after quite a few re-reads, I decided to cut the last page out and post this as a filler. It was easier to separate the next section of (more) action into a new chapter and keep this lull in the battles on its own.

Thank you so much to all of my new favorites/followers! I know it's been some time since I've updated, but it does keep me motivated when I see people are still finding this story.

As always, thanks to Arenoptara for beta-reading for me—especially on such short notice. Hopefully I'll have the next chapter up sooner, but with the way this summer has been going so far, I don't want to make any promises :x