Shattered Bones by Seagale

The glades of Tirisfal are hardly inviting. The warm fire which was once aflame in the inns is long since extinguished. Yet life endures after death, and restless souls dwell in the darkness of this once beautiful forest.
A cold night it was, but for the dead it matters not. Only magic allows them to hear the sounds coming from the horizon as waves clash into the rocks, leaving the tranquility of the sea behind.
There she stood. Cold bones, a skull with no eyes. Yet she gazed at the chilly sky while the magic that enabled her to continue her damned existence still endured.
Waiting.

A high cliff it was, far above the cries of waves shattering as they meet the unfriendly rocks beneath her. The plants on the secluded cliff were as dead as she was, and the trees down the road were naught but rotting piles of old, dead wood.
There she stood. Cold daggers, a hand with no skin. Wind hit her bones, but her nerves have died long ago, leaving her with nothing but blade and poison.
Waiting.

The wait was not long. Four years since the invasion and two hours since the message. Not much time for immortal victims of dreaded plague and cursed blight.
She sat at the edge of the cliff, thinking. Why now? Unlife in the dark city was hard enough without the bitterness inflicted upon her by remnants of her still living past.
From behind he came. Past dying trees and tormented wildlife, if so it can be called. A man. A living man, dressed in a great red robe with golden accents. Not a sword did he carry, but a staff. A staff lined with jewels which have not yet lost their strength to fight the forces of evil. Yet he was not a fighter.

"Well met, my love," he greeted her. "Too long it has been."
She rose and turned her face towards him. He let out a loud gasp as he saw the sockets her eyes once called home. "What have you become?" he asked, horrified.
"Why have you come, husband?" she prompted him. Why did he choose to disturb her quiet unlife after so many months?
"I sent you the message to meet me here as soon as I was informed of your... what ever you choose to call it. Life, death, it matters not. You do not deserve this fate," he explained.
"You left me to the Scourge. Why should you care? The Dark Lady guides me now. I am free," she rehearsed.
"Free?" he chuckled. "Are you no longer subject to natural laws? Are you no longer a part of this world?" he asked with contempt. "Tell me, woman, if that is what you consider yourself to be, if I threw you off the edge of this cliff, would your bones not shatter? Would you not burn if I set you aflame? You are nothing but a rotting corpse well past its due time," he concluded.

The undead have been denied of the peace death promised, freeing them from the plague.
Shifting her gaze back to the ocean and away from her husband, she began to chant in an attempt to convince herself he was wrong:

Sight is for the blind
Hearing for the deaf
My brain is not my mind
Set free by death.

A moment of silence followed. While only a minute, it seemed as if time was enjoying her torment and lingered on to listen. She broke the silence:
"Are they alive? Our son and daughters. Where are they?" she asked.
"All dead but one. They, at least, have enough respect for this world to rot in their graves!"
"Do you truly think I have chosen to live like this?"
"Then why do you insist on living?"
Even after she was set free from the shackles that bound her as a minion of the Scourge, she hadn't thought about dying a second time.
"I am free... free..." she said, repeating it several times while watching the water swirl in the ocean. Water she was no longer able to taste of feel.
"You will never understand!" she screamed. Her voice distorted as the magic which enabled her to speak could not handle the volume of her shout.

"Why have you come to torment me? This land seeks redemption, and so do the souls you have forsaken," she uttered. Rage building within, her hand started to move towards her dagger.
"I'm here to help you," he said in quiet resolve.
"What?"
"Your torment shall end for eternity, my love. Rest in peace."
Closing his eyes, he took a step back. A fireball began amassing in his hands.

Her eyes, had they existed, opened wide as she realized what was happening. The fireball hit her, setting her cold flesh aflame. It pushed her beyond the edge and onto the rocks below.
Her quiet descent ended with a sharp noise as her lifeless bones shattered.
Yet there was no one to hear her final thud, not an ear for her ending to fall on. He was back in Ironforge by then, on his way to tell his young, living daughter of her mother's final rest.

This is a very short story I wrote out of the blue. It's not the best but I hope someone would enjoy it.