Maiev

by J CAE

Code of the Warden: Our strength is not meant for revenge, but for Elune's justice. We must hunt down those who are at fault, but remember that they are Hers to judge.

MAIEV

By J Cae

NOTE: Hey folks. I know, and you don't have to tell me I haven't finished my other Warcraft stories. Well, this is a short story of Maiev Shadowsong, one of the elite wardens. My fanfics = my personal opinion. You can choose to not agree with me, but please respect yourself and do not flame. Rated PG-13 for violence, implied mature contents, and (ahhh!) language. Reviews are more than welcome.

WARNING: Girl power alert! Guess that's the whole point of Night Elves, no?

DISCLAIMER: Warcraft III is the creation of Blizzard Entertainment.

PROLOGUE:

Syreece Blissmoon smiled.

She was glad the thunderstorm finally passed. The night skies cleared and the moon came back to grace the Ashenvale Forests again. Shadows of the rich leaves above them danced wildly on her beautiful face. Closely beside her, her husband Ircahan Shadowsong returned a smile. They had been bonded for many, many centuries, and neither of them was young anymore. Yet their love was still as fresh as the morning dew. He ran his fingers through her dark blue hair and tickled her behind her sensitive night elven ears. Oh sweetness! She tiptoed to kiss him on the lips.

They were experienced gatherers on their routine patrol to collect food for their village--a couple well respected for their skills of gathering and coping with nature. They knew exactly where the best food was and how to obtain it. They took pleasure in their work as well. They enjoyed their time together in the forest, away from the crowd and all their troubles.

Ircahan was just about to say something when suddenly, an infant's wail interrupted him. Some angry shouts of a man followed, and a woman began to beg.

"Please...please don't hurt her! She's just a child!"

"I told you to get rid of it!" the man burst out in rage.

"No! Please! Plea--" her cry was cut off abruptly.

Syreece and Ircahan knew well what dangers might there be, yet it was too important to ignore. They ran towards the source of the sound.

A man--whom Syreece recognized as Lord Dynn, one of the most powerful landowners in Ashenale, snatched the crying infant from her mother's arms and threw her onto the floor as if she was an unwanted object. Her mother, a thin and frail-looking youngster who just emerged from girlhood, tried to crawl towards her child but Dynn kicked her square in the jaw, sending her flying backwards to the floor. The man landed a few kicks on the girl's stomach.

Alarmed, Ircahan rushed forward to separate Dynn from her--and received a hard blow on his shoulder which momentarily paralyzed him. Imagine a weak girl taking his kicks!

"No! Lord Dynn!" he persisted, cuffing the landlord from behind. "Whatever this girl has done, we could talk about it."

"What do you know, hunter?" the angry man tried to shove him aside. "Let me finish that little bitch off!"

Syreece helped the girl up from the ground who immediately ran to pick up her child--the infant was no longer crying. Those haunted little eyes were wide open, and blood trickled down from her temple. Poor soul! She must have hit her head on a rock upon landing. Frightened and pained, the girl hugged the dead baby and tried in every way to revive her. But it was too late.

"Bitch!" Dynn was still wrestling a more athletic Ircahan. "The little one gets what she deserves!"

Syreece watched as the girl stiffened--her fears turned to anger. She charged at Dynn with the child still in her arms, giving him a blow to the face. It hurt her knuckles but she did not care. This man killed her child. She would have to kill him in return.

"Stop this!" Syreece yelled, and tried to hold the girl back. "Stop it!"

And the girl did stop. She slumped unconsciously to the ground.

*~*~*~*

PART I: SHADOW STRIKE

"Would you like to eat something?"

Ircahan asked the girl who was still sitting motionlessly under a tree with the dead infant in her arms. She had remained in that position for the last few hours, without any intention to move or do anything. Her child--the light of her life, was gone. There was nothing else worth living for.

"It's no use," Syreece whispered to her lover. She had asked the girl a couple times already, but still received no answer.

Ircahan sighed sadly. What tragedy! "I don't know what could possibly drive Dynn to murder a child," he said. "Dynn is not known to be a violent man."

"That's what you think," the girl finally moved her lips, her speech shaking with anger and despair. "I've been...taking his beating for four years."

Syreece approached the girl and hugged her, "I'm so sorry to hear that."

The girl finally began to bawl, "Oh goddess! How could I have let this happen? I..."

The huntress just rocked the frail girl, knowing that words of consolation could not help much, "It was not your fault."

"It was all my fault!" violent sobs tore through her feeble body. "If I were stronger, I should have been able to protect myself--that's how I got my daughter...he...he told me to get rid of her. He has his way now!"

"Son of a--" Ircahan was about to swear when Syreece raised her hand to stop the words from coming out. No point making the girl feel any worse than she already did.

"We can help you," Syreece said reassuringly. "We can make Dynn answer for what he has done. If you would just stand up against him."

"No," the girl balled her fists. "No. He is a landowner. I am merely a servant at his household. There is nothing we can do."

"Ircahan's sister is a warden," Syreece motioned to her husband whose face lit up in recognition.

And the girl's eyes trained on the hunter. She remembered he introduced himself as Ircahan Shadowsong...and his sister would be...

"Warden Shadowsong?"

The legendary warden? Few at fault could escape her jurisdiction--her interest was not in riches nor any benefits, but making the guilty answer for their actions. Those whom she swore to capture could seldom escape.

"Yes, it is she," Syreece nodded. "Ircahan could go speak with her and she could help you."

But the girl shrank back. It was too risky, she thought. She was too weak to do so. She did not want to face, ever again, the man's violent fists. "No. I...I am still...scared."

Ircahan also joined in the persuasion, "I'm sure she'd be willing to help. If you would just tell her everything that happened. She will protect you, girl. She will not let him hurt you again."

"But I am...I am a servant. She won't..."

"Even if you were a pauper," the hunter assured her. "She would let justice be served.

~*~

Rue Wyena Shadowsong never considered herself a legend. She was one of the youngest Night Elves ever to become a warden, that was true, but what did that matter? To her, it was all determination. If ever a fifty-year-old wanted with all her heart to become a warden, she could do so, and neither traditions nor conventions were ever going to hold her down.

Her brother came to visit her earlier that night and told her of the young woman he rescued from Lord Dynn's hands. If the tale had been half as true, Dynn had much to answer for. Rue Wyena promised that she would see to it, and asked Ircahan to bring the girl forth.

It took the girl a while to work up her courage and come to the dungeon herself before dawn. Rue Wyena heard that she had just given birth to a child two days ago, and had barely recovered her strength before suffering savage kicks and punches of the landowner. And to make the matter worse, the death of her unnamed child was gripping at her, tearing the last bit of joy from her. Her steps were uneven, and the warden noticed that she leaned heavily against the railing as she was coming down the stairs.

But the great warden made no attempt to help as the girl inched towards the fire where she was sitting, sharpening her round blade. She had to let the young woman take her own time, make her own steps towards her--to overcome the first psychological obstacle.

The girl greeted Rue Wyena in a soft voice.

The warden cast her a glance--she saw the despair that should not belong in the silver eyes of a girl so young. The young woman was hardly beautiful--her face so thin that her cheeks appeared to be sunken.

"Take a seat, girl."

The woman did as she was told.

Rue Wyena held her weapon to the fire to examine it, "Tell me your name."

"...Maiev."

"What?" Rue Wyena glared at her and she shrank back from the intensity of her gaze.

"Is...something wrong?"

"Speak louder, I cannot hear you," Rue Wyena barked.

"My name is Maiev Winterglade," the woman repeated with a sigh.

The warden shook her head, "Why do you speak as though you are ashamed of your own name, girl? Do you know what your name means?"

"Yes," Maiev replied, casting her eyes to the floor. "It means 'a blade'." She did not come here to be lectured. She thought the warden could help her, and that was the sole reason she dragged her loathed existence here. If the older woman could do not more than to make her feel bad, then she might as well take her leave and return to her old life as a slave to Dynn.

"A blade, indeed," Rue Wyena set her weapon down beside her boots. "But do you really understand it?"

A blade? What difference would it make? A blade, a rock, or even cotton clouds?

"I heard what Ircahan told me, Maiev," Rue Wyena sensed the girl's uneasiness and changed the subject. "Now, I want to hear your story. I want to hear the truth, and the truth only. I will believe you, and I will let justice be served. But if I discovered that you are lying, I will punish you in the Goddess's name."

Maiev wanted to say she had denounced Elune long ago, the day when Dynn first took her soul. But she did not. She only began her story. She told the warden everything--of her stay at Dynn's house, of the constant abuse, and much more anguish. It had been difficult to retell the pain, and at points she grew so emotional she thought she could not continue. Yet she knew if she stopped, she might never be able to begin again.

"It is all right, child," underneath the layers of iron armour, the warden still had a soft core. "You can cry if it will make you feel better."

"I do not want to cry," and though Maiev's tone seemed firm, tears were already running down her cheeks. "I just want to kill Dynn."

Rue Wyena stood up abruptly, as if she found a poison snake on her seat, "This is a dangerous thought."

"Please," and Maiev went down on her knees. "I just want to kill him. Please make me strong. Teach me how to fight."

The great warden could feel anger bubbling within the young woman, and she knew it was dangerous to ignore anger--even if it was in one so fragile, "You cannot kill him. Who are you to give death to him? He had stripped your dignity and taken your child's life, but it is not yours to judge. It is the Goddess's decision." She dragged the woman up to her feet and stared straight into those eyes. The shock was evident.

Maiev took a step back, "You...would not help me then?"

"I would help you," Rue Wyena confirmed, her tone softened. "But I would not have you kill him."

"If you must stop me, you'll have to lock me up in a cage," the younger woman persevered, testing the warden's limits. Testing her own limits.

Rue Wyena sighed. Very well.

No matter how she answered to the young woman's challenge, she knew she would be wrong one way or another. Still, her conscience would not permit her to turn a desperate woman away when she had the power to help. And yet to give Maiev the means to do what she wished--would she only be destroying the girl's soul? Elune grant her wisdom. She could not make her judgement.

"I could capture the man who had done you wrong and put him behind bars," Rue Wyena said calmly. "I could teach you how to fight as well. But you may not kill him. Do I make myself understood?"

Maiev only nodded. There was nothing more for her to say.

~*~

"Remember the Code of the Warden," Rue Wyena made sure she got the message across before she started to train Maiev. "Our strength is granted to us by Elune. It is not meant for revenge, but for carrying out Her justice. We must hunt down those who are at fault, but remember that they are the Goddess's to judge."

The training began with Rue Wyena letting her young student try picking up her round blade. Watching the warden demonstrate, it did not seem difficult at all--and yet Maiev could hardly imagine how heavy the weapon really was. It was an ancient weapon that the Night Elven Wardens had used since the beginning of their time, forged with iron and bronze. Maiev needed almost all her strength to keep the round blade in her hands, not to mention, using it to fight. She knew she would need to work hard.

The warden gave her weights to lift. Not used to exercising, Maiev tired quickly. Her thin arms ached and her body begged for rest, but she refused to let exhaustion defeat her. Her determination was still intact. She would complete her training, the sooner the better.

Even though Rue Wyena made it clear that she did not want her to kill Dynn with her new skills, Maiev could make no promise. She did not know what she would do if ever she came across the landowner who had tortured her for so many years. Perhaps she would let him taste her wrath. Or perhaps she would still be scared of him. She shook her head to the latter thought. No way she would let him hold her down again!

She thrust her fist forward. The iron weight around her wrist made this simple action hard. She barred her teeth against the muscle pain she was already experiencing. Sweat trickled along her brow and down her face. She wished she had a towel to wipe her face. But no. She would not give in to such trifle impediment.

"You should rest now, Maiev," Rue Wyena was still supervising from a side, examining her own throwing knives. The girl could never quite comprehend the warden's fondness with her own weapons.

"A little while more," she said, and the warden said nothing to stop her.

She threw her fist forward again, punching the imaginary face of Dynn. He would pay. She did not care how long it would take, or what, at all, it would take. He would pay.

And with a cry, she hurled another blow at the air again.

~*~

She woke with a start.

Had she fallen asleep?

Was she not still training? Or was it just a dream?

But the muscle aches reassured her. She tried to sit up from the soft mattress she had been placed upon and studied her surroundings. From the brownish brick walls around her, it seemed that she was still at the dungeon, inside a little room behind a half-opened door. With much difficulty, she stood upright and hobbled outside, feeling her body's punishment.

How did she ever find her way into the room? How come she did not remember? Had she collapsed? Had the warden carried her?

She halted as she heard Rue Wyena's voice coming from a bit further in the shadowed hallway--her tone was somewhere between anger and frustration.

"She is all right. Of course she is. But there's something wrong with her mind. This girl is as dangerous as a boar. Her hatred rules her--and I fear that might be her undoing someday."

"But all her life she had been living under Dynn's threats," the second voice belonged to Ircahan, the hunter who saved her earlier. "It is hard not to be angry." Had he come to see how she was doing?

"I know," the warden sighed.

They are talking about me, Maiev realized, and blinked. Rue Wyena said she was as dangerous as a boar, and that her hatred might be her undoing someday? That did not seem to be a positive comment. Was the great warden giving up on her just after the first four hours of training? Sighing, she decided to go back to the room and rest a little longer. She should not have hoped for too much. The warden had only agreed reluctantly to train her. She might find reasons to dismiss her.

"Wyena, please," Ircahan spoke again, concerned. "Please help her. She's been through enough."

"I am helping her!" Rue Wyena raised her voice. "But she is not happy with it. She wants to kill the man herself! I cannot allow that!"

"I understand, sister. But give her some reason to hope," the hunter only said. "You were not there to see her face when her child died."

His words had their effect. Just when Maiev thought she had started to get over the pain, it returned again, sharp as a razor through her heart. She curled herself up in the blankets and tried to resist the tears from flowing. Her baby...dead. She would never see her daughter's smiles again. Oh goddess! Her heart was torn.

"I am only doing the best I can," Rue Wyena said dryly. "But I must also abide by the Code of the Warden."

"Thank you, Wyena," Ircahan sounded calm.

"She is a blade indeed," the warden's tone dropped low. "If honed and polished correctly, she would become a strong fighter. But sharpen her the wrong way, she would only cut us."

And then, they were quiet.

The only sound left was the soft weeping of the young mother who lost her child three days ago.

The young woman who would soon find her true destiny and become the next legendary Warden Shadowsong.

~*~

J NoBo (J Cae's Notice Board)

Nope. This isn't the end. It's gonna continue!! Okay, a couple things I need to clarify. I didn't wanna do so earlier cuz it would give everything away ^_^. This story is situated at the time of the Night Elves, 1X, XXX years before Warcraft I, and some time before Sargeras came into their world. Maiev Winterglade we see here is actually THE Maiev Shadowsong in TFT. In later chapters of my fic [only], you will see why she changed her name. The reason's kinda obvious, and no, she's not the long lost sister of Ircahan and Rue Wyena. But I'll leave the mystery to you.