All throughout their lives, Eliana had always felt that Cytheas was the stronger of the two of them. Faced with any obstacle, any adversity in life, he had always been stoic, collected, and able to think calmly through the situation to find a solution. Her response had always been the more emotional one, driven by her heart's decisions. It made them a effective pair, one able to see both sides of any problem.

It was now that she was reminded of that dynamic once again, as Cytheas' only reaction to her seemingly world-altering words was a simple frown. Between his brows, a small divot formed as he took a step back, giving her space that she didn't quite realize she'd needed.

"What do you mean 'gone', Eli?" he questioned in a quiet voice.

Unsure of how to explain, Eliana clasped her hands together, nervously toying with her fingers. "I—" Her voice caught in her throat, the single word she'd spoken breaking with the threat of more tears. Eventually, all she could manage was a shake of her head.

Cytheas' face fell, and he stepped forward again, arms open to her. Without another word, she folded into his embrace, unable to control the sobs that shook her body. As she tucked her cheek into his chest, he murmured, "It's all right. We can speak more about this later."

"Now or later, it will not change what has happened."

His only response was a short sigh. They stood there for some time, only the sounds of his breathing and her broken sobs filling the tent. When Eliana next took a deep breath, he tightened his hold on her for a brief second before letting his arms drop. "You need to rest. It is still daylight, and we can discuss the whys and hows after you've slept."

"I do not know if sleep is something I can attain right now."

"Try? For me?" Cytheas pleaded, gesturing to his bed.

It was her turn to sigh, and she gently wiped the moisture from her cheeks. Lethargically, she shambled over to the bed, nearly collapsing atop the still-warm covers. He stood beside the cot, lifting up the furs for her to slide her legs underneath. Once she was thoroughly tucked in, he bent down and affectionately smoothed her hair back from her face.

Despite everything that had happened between them mere weeks ago—truly, it felt like eons longer than that—she knew that she could always count on him to simply be there for her. Even after all the drama, all the emotional confusion, Cytheas would never leave her.

For Illidan, she could not say the same. Not any longer. Her unerring trust in him had finally wavered, broken without warning, and her lower lip trembled as tears threatened to return once more. At the sight of her expression, Cytheas' shoulders drooped.

"Please try to rest, Eliana. I know it is likely the last thing on your mind at the moment, but . . . you, of all people, need to recover."

"I know," Eliana murmured. "Our people, my Sisters, need me to guide them, lead them on the battlefield like your soldiers need you. I cannot be a blubbering, emotional mess and yet—" The tears welling in her eyes finally slid down her cheeks. "—I cannot seem to stop crying."

"I cannot imagine how you feel right now, and I do not want to force you to talk about it if you are not ready. But it is not only the Sisterhood that needs you at your best, Eliana. We all do. I do. I cannot be worrying about you faltering in the middle of a fight."

Knowing he was right, a slight nod was the only response she could manage. Again, he rested his hand on the snow-white strands of her hair before straightening. "I will return soon. Sleep, no wallowing in your thoughts."

"I will try."

A hesitant smile teased at the corners of his lips. As she rolled over onto her side, turning away from the garishly bright light of the sun, she heard the tent flap lift and fall once more. Her eyes slid shut, the tears now falling onto the soft pillow beneath her head rather than down her cheeks.

The last thing she remembered before she slipped into oblivion was the fading sound of Cytheas' footsteps as he walked away from her.

Eliana awoke to the sound of her name being called as someone gently rocked her shoulder. Her eyes fluttered open, and she was relieved to see that the golden glow of the daylight hours had faded into a softer, muted light. The sun was likely disappearing, making way for the ethereal, wan light of the moon.

Slowly, she pushed herself up into a sitting position before turning to meet her waker's gaze. Cytheas looked back at her with a stern, tight-lipped expression. The look on his face brought her fully into consciousness, and she reached for his hand, twining their fingers together.

"Cytheas? What is it?"

It had been awhile since she'd seen him appear so closed off . . . angry, almost. When he tightened his grip, the knuckles of her fingers protesting at the pressure, he said, "Eliana, I need you to answer the question I'm going to ask with absolute honesty."

"Have I ever lied to you?"

He narrowed his eyes at her, and she cleared her throat. Her eyes were puffy, making it difficult to look at him fully; all she wanted to do was sleep more, rest her eyes until the pain within her chest ebbed. But the serious tone in his voice had her holding his gaze instead, and offering a single nod in lieu of a verbal promise.

In a low, nearly monotone voice, Cytheas asked, "When you said that Illidan left, that he was gone, what did you mean?"

At the sound of Illidan's name, Eliana felt her chest constrict. She had promised to answer him, though, and honestly, and . . . she couldn't run from what she'd done forever. Eventually, Cytheas would find out, and she'd rather he heard the truth from her than from some chain of gossip that spread throughout the encampment.

A beat passed as she fought to even out her breathing, and on the fifth breath, she looked up at him again. "When I woke in the forest this morning, as the sun rose, I was alone."

"Why were you in the forest?"

"After Lord Ravencrest's procession, I—The sudden storm trapped Illidan and I in the underbrush. We were waiting for it to pass, together."

Cytheas shifted atop the bed, pulling his hand from hers. "I do not mean to rush you, Eli, but I need to know what happened. In more than simple tidbits of information at a time, preferably."

Irritation coursed through her. While she knew that, as he'd said, he had no intention of rushing her recounting of what had happened, it still felt that way. It left her feeling disoriented and jarred, especially as she'd yet to fully process the implications of Illidan's disappearance.

After taking a slow, deep breath, Eliana began again. "Just after the funeral and the procession, once you'd left us, Illidan and I took shelter in the nearby trees when the sudden storm hit our camp. We spoke a bit, not about anything important, and when we realized the rain wasn't going to stop anytime soon, we got . . . comfortable.

"One thing led to another and . . . we . . . kissed."

Cytheas' expression darkened, as if he knew she meant more than that. Though it appeared he was gritting his teeth, he gestured for her to continue. Hesitant because of his obvious displeasure, Eliana dropped her gaze, staring at her hands as she continued.

"A simple kiss became something far greater. We both realized that . . . this war had changed us, changed everything. I was suffering from an abundance of harbored guilt over what happened with High Priestess Dejahna and Tyrande, and Illidan was coming to terms with things involving Malfurion—and, of course, Tyrande as well.

"The ever-growing pressures of our people's expectations of me, and Illidan's expectations of himself . . . once it was all out in the open, we somehow just . . . came together. It was as if speaking the words to one another helped bring us closer—no, pushed us closer."

When she paused to take a breath, she snuck a peek at Cytheas' face. His expression was drawn, tight, his lips pressed so thin the inner edge was turning pale. Quickly, she lowered her gaze again, continuing on before she lost all nerve.

"It was . . . an experience I'm not likely to forget. Afterwards, I—Illidan told me to rest, that he'd watch over me," Eliana explained, her voice lowering in volume until she was almost whispering, "but when I woke, he was nowhere to be found."

Cytheas' reaction was so sudden, so unexpected, that when he jolted, Eliana did as well. Her gaze snapped up to meet his, and the ferocity of his frown had her reeling back.

"He left you there? Alone, in the middle of the forest, with no protection or inkling as to where he'd gone?"

She cringed. "Cytheas . . . please."

"No, Eliana! This is—We are at war! With demons, no less, and he abandoned you in a moment where you were completely vulnerable?" When he shot to his feet, immediately pacing the small space within the tent, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, intent on following him. Before she could speak again, he hissed, "Where is he?"

"If I knew that, do you not think I would have gone to him by now? Asked him for myself what happened?"

He shoved his fingers through his hair, mussing the top knot at the crown of his head. "No, Eliana, I—" He paused, the grooves he was likely wearing into the dirt receiving a brief respite. "While you slept, I went and searched for him, asked throughout the camp if anyone had seen him since the funeral."

At that, she finally rose to her feet. "And?"

Holding her gaze, he propped his hands up on his hips as a long exhale left him. "And no one has, not since he disappeared into the trees with you. It's been nearly a full day-night cycle, and no one has seen him—not Malfurion, not the Moon Guard. No one."

The ramifications of his words hit her, knocking the breath out of her lungs. "How can that be?" she whispered.

Cytheas pushed his fingers through his hair again, yanking out the leather band securing his top knot in frustration when they got caught. Resuming his pacing once more, he avoided looking at her; the silence in the tent felt oppressive.

Fear flashed through her, and the sudden knowledge of the fact that she may have pushed Cytheas so far beyond return with what she'd done, made her panic.

"Cytheas," Eliana began in a quiet voice. "I know you are upset—why you are upset. Though I cannot help that reason, I . . . I made this choice. I recognize that. I am the one who brought myself to this situation, I am the one who chose to love Illidan. All of that is my own fault. I know it is selfish but I cannot stand for you to be upset with me. Please say something."

Her words were effective in halting his steps, and he looked at her with an incredulous scoff. "I am not upset with you, Eliana. How could I be? You trusted Illidan—which, yes, may have been a bit naive but you've never hidden the way you've felt about him. Not from me, and especially not from him. But I am . . . exceptionally angry at Illidan. He knew how you felt about him, knew it and took advantage of it—of you. The minute you open up and let him in, gave him something you can never receive back, he abandons you?

"I never believed he deserved you. Your father never believed he deserved you. This only reinforces what I knew to be the truth. And now he's gone. He hasn't only left you behind in the dirt, but he left his responsibilities, his people."

Throughout Cytheas' entire tirade, Eliana kept her gaze firmly fixed on the ground. When he mentioned her father, though, her head shot up so quickly, her neck ached. "My father said that?"

Cytheas winced. "I did not mean to . . . I should not have brought him up, I am sorry."

"No, it is . . . it is all right. I've come to terms with the fact that I will likely never see him again. This war has taken much from us. I am not exempt from the loss that our people face. You should not have to apologize."

"Perhaps not for that, but my timing could have left something to be desired."

A strained smile spread across her face, and she offered a shrug. "Life is not convenient when it comes to timing, Cytheas. We both know that."

He met her gaze again, chest rising and falling with every steady breath. "Yes, we do."

A moment of silence passed as they simply looked at one another. Finally, Eliana said, "What happens now?"

Cytheas ran a hand down his face, and for the first time in a long while, Eliana saw the strain he was under. His eyes were muted, their silver glow less bright than their norm. There were stress lines at the corners of his eyes, his lips. He looked . . . worn, ragged, something she imagined all within their camp reflected.

"Now, I imagine Malfurion will try to figure out what happened with his twin. First, Tyrande's kidnapping, now llidan's defection—or so it seems . . . he's having a hard time."

"I can only imagine."

A sympathetic expression flitted across his face. "As Malfurion can only imagine what you are going through, Eli."

His words made her chest constrict again, the pain fierce in its brief appearance. Somehow, his words triggered a memory of the night before, and Eliana gasped. Cytheas looked at her questioningly, and she turned away from him as her cheeks darkened.

Illidan, he . . . we . . . I must find Marinda.

"Eliana, what is—" Cytheas began to ask, before she whirled around and brushed past him.

"I am sorry, Cytheas, I just remembered that I must speak to one of my Sisters. I will—I will return in a short while." Without waiting for his reply, she hurried out of the tent and onto the still-muddy path that wound through the soldiers' section of the camp.

"Eliana!"

She did not stop at his plea, running through the canvas tents towards the other end of the camp. When she breezed past the soldier on watch, she did not stop to acknowledge his respectful bow—something that made her feel guilty, but paled in comparison to the urgency of her agenda.

As she approached the lavender and violet tents of the Sisterhood, she slowed her pace, chest heaving as she fought to catch her breath. The Sentinels flanking the 'entrance' to their section of the encampment bowed, hands over their hearts as they murmured, "High Priestess," in unison.

This time, she returned the gesture. "I must find Sister Marinda as quick as possible. Have you seen her?"

One of the Sentinals offered a nod, saying, "I believe she accompanied a few of the priestesses to visit the sabers. I saw her pass by not long ago."

"Thank you. Elune guide you both," Eliana offered in lieu of a goodbye, hurrying off towards the corral of sabers just past the violet tents.

Near the center of the corral, Marinda stood with a few of her fellow priestesses, gesturing to the sabers with a stern expression on her face. As Eliana walked alongside the makeshift fence that separated the sabers from the walking path, she reached out to pet Kal'Shalla's snout as she passed, another flash of guilt running through her as she realized it had been some time since she'd come to see her own saber.

Her thoughts had been so chaotic, so filled with loss and consumed by Illidan, that she'd ignored so much these past few days—including those she loved. A brief whisper of affection had Kal'Shalla purring into the palm of her hand, and she allowed herself a brief smile.

"I will return momentarily," she promised. Kal'Shalla nuzzled her hand, before turning back to rejoin the throng of sabers behind her.

Eliana watched her lumber away for a few moments before continuing on towards Marinda. When she was but a few feet away, the group of priestesses turned, eyes widening in recognition. A quick greeting occurred, comprised of bows and murmurs, and when Eliana straightened, she said, "Sister Marinda, I must speak to you alone. Do you have a moment?"

Surprise flitted across Marinda's face, but she offered a deep incline of her head. "Of course, High Priestess. Lead the way."

Eliana pivoted on her heel, walking away from the clearing. Briefly, she panicked as she realized they were nowhere near her own tent or a place of privacy. This was not something she wished to voice out in the open. Her steps faltered as she questioned where to go.

Marinda must have sensed her trepidation, because she gestured to a nearby tent. "I believe this tent's occupants are elsewhere. If not, we can simply ask if we can use their shelter for a brief moment. I doubt they'd turn you down, High Priestess."

"Oh, yes, of course. A splendid idea, Marinda."

A quick peek proved Marinda right; the tent was empty for now. The two of them slipped inside, and once the tent's flap fell, Eliana swiveled around to face Marinda. "What I am about to ask you must remain in confidence, Sister."

Again, Marinda's eyes widened. "I . . . of course, High Priestess. I would never think of breaking your confidence."

Suddenly nervous, Eliana paced, circling the miniscule tent time after time. As she walked, she fiddled with her fingers, avoiding Marinda's gaze. "You—Is there—" A frustrated sigh left her as she about-faced and looked into the older priestess' eyes. In a rush, she said, "Does a natural remedy for unwanted childbirth exist?"

If Eliana had thought Marinda's eyes were wide before, it was nothing compared to the other priestess' reaction now. Though she was already noticeably surprised, her mouth fell slack as she processed Eliana's request.

"Why . . . would you need anything like that, High Priestess? I am not sure I follow."

Embarrassment, chagrin, shame—so many emotions flitted through Eliana before she settled on a quiet resolve. "I am sure you can imagine the reasons why, Marinda. This is the reason I asked for utmost discretion."

At Eliana's words, Marinda's face transformed into a blank canvas of emotion—though Eliana could have sworn she saw a flash of intense disappointment in the older priestess' eyes. "There is a tea I can brew you, if it has been within two night cycles. It should take care of this . . . inconvenience."

"If that is the case, I must drink it before moonfall tomorrow."

Marinda bowed, albeit stiffly. "I will prepare it for you, High Priestess, and bring it to your tent when the sun is at its apex."

As Marinda straightened, Eliana stepped forward, gripping the older female's upper arm tightly. "Thank you, Marinda. I cannot even begin to express how much your aid means to me."

Again, Marinda inclined her head. Without another word, she brushed past Eliana, quickly making her way to leave the tent. Just as she raised the canvas, Eliana heard her say, "May I ask one question, High Priestess?"

Eliana tensed, pivoting on her heel to face Marinda. "Of course. You may always ask anything of me that you wish."

For the briefest of moments, Marinda hesitated. Her gaze dropped to the ground before she locked eyes with Eliana once more, her expression tight. "Was it one of the Stormrage brothers—Illidan—that received this blessing you can only give once?"

Immediately, Eliana recoiled at the question. It was . . . beyond inappropriate for Marinda to ask something of such a personal nature, especially with a tone of voice that implied she had made a grave mistake. Despite the fact that that was exactly how she felt at this particular moment, it was still an unwelcome invasion of privacy.

And yet . . . she had told Marinda she was free to ask anything she wished. As the healer who was administering the brew that would ensure she would not be with child—in a time of war, at a time when the babe's father would not be anywhere near her—Eliana felt she owed the other priestess an answer, one that was truthful.

"Yes."

Marinda held Eliana's gaze for a moment too long, before offering a curt nod and leaving the tent. The canvas flap fell with a heavy thud behind her, and Eliana burst into tears, trying to muffle the sounds of her sobs by smothering her face with her hands. It did not help much; her shoulders shook with every sob, her cries punctuated by sharp, frantic breaths.

Oh, Elune. What have I done?

A/N:

As always, thanks to Arenoptara for beta-reading 3 I felt like this chapter was total crap, but she said otherwise, so I guess everyone thank her for makin' this happen, hahaha.

Sorry it's so short, but like, I wanted to get this moving again, get this chapter out there, address some shiiiiit that happened. I hope y'all don't hate it after such a long hiatus D:

Also have extremely good news as of today! I've accepted an offer to return to Blizzard in November as an Associate Program Manager! I'll be checking with HR about the side project rule, but I suspect that, since I am not making money from this story, that there will be no problem continuing it while I'm employed :) You guys are all awesome, and please don't hesitate to pipe up and leave a comment! I love chatting with all my readers, and if you haven't yet, follow me on social media!

Insta/Twitter: h34rt1lly . I'm sure I'll be posting tons of shenanigans from work when the time comes!