It was dark and cold. She felt like she was floating, her head was spinning in a dizzy carousel, like she drank too much, and a vomiting sensation started to build up in her throat. She found herself falling in a endless spiral in this darkness, hurtling to an invisible floor. A floor that would most likely kill her if she continued to fall at this speed. Everything was a blur, a blur that swirled out of existence. All of the sudden she felt that she could not breathe through her nose, something was preventing her from doing that. She started gasping for air, with her mouth open wide, and woke up, panting, inhaling the air around her.

She woke up, taking deep, loud breaths, a wheezing sound coming from her nostrils. She tried to look around, to take in her surroundings, her mind hazy, her vision blurred. She quickly looked down at her body, hoping to find something that would help her escape, and a wave of terror surged through her veins. She was tied up with secure ropes from a branch of a near by tree, feet up in the air, not touching the ground. The twine that was bounding her was cutting painfully her flesh, turning skin white from pressure. She lost the fight. The thought made her angry. She could not accept that.

The cold air on her face could mean one thing. Her faceguard was missing. A tall, husky figure, with a sharp, blue face, covered in bloodstains and bruises was in front of her, inspecting her with caution. "That damned rogue!" she thought, and in mere seconds her rage took the best of her. She narrowed her eyes, preparing to punch him, but to her horror could not feel her arms. "The poison..." she thought, and the realization washed over her like a cold, sudden splash of water. She wiggled her legs, and a jolt of pain in her inner thigh made her gasp. She looked down as much as she could from that position and saw the gap in her armor made by his tusk. The hole was green to it's edges, which meant only one thing..."The damned bastard coated his tusks with poison!" . She glanced at him with a murderous stare, and swung her body as much as she could, hoping to hit him.

The troll stepped back, at the sudden movement, cautiously looking at her. But she was powerless in this state. She met his gaze, her eyelids narrowed, brows frowned, lips in a thin line. She could not do anything. Her mind was racing at a crazed pace, looking for a solution to her state.

The rogue was still watching her cautious, even though he had his own issues. His left eye was swollen, and his upper lip cracked, which made him look even more menacing. He did not look scared. He was calculating. He was calling the shots now.

And it was true. What a sore sight she must be to the eye. Tied like a pack of dried meat, dangling from a branch in a unknown place. She locked her bright eyes with the troll and gritted her teeth in a defiant manner. Her eyes were cold and murderous. Behind them was something more intense than normal thought and her clenched jaw wasn't a good sign. She could not escape...at least for now... His eyes were narrowed, his stare piercing, watching carefully every move she made, tracing her every thought that might materialize on to her expression. The tension between them grew stronger with each second. But then, her rage started building up, at the sudden realization of her purpose in this place. She was here with one purpose only: to find Tyrande, she could not lose more time with this game.

"Where is Tyrande, troll?" she said in Common, in a mocking tone, breaking the silence that was surrounding them.

The troll looked surprised, and backed several more steppes. He inspected her dangling form once more with caution, as to see if she posed any danger. He slowly pocked with his finger at her ribs, and she screamed. It hurt. He took his time to look her up and down and with one final look, assured that she was harmless, he turned his back to her, and walked away, mildly relaxed.

"I know you speak Common, Troll" the elf said louder, breaking the silence once more, making him stop, with his back to her.

The troll rolled his shoulders, and continued to walk slowly, as if he did not hear her.

Kyra puffed in frustration. At least he was far away, so she would get to try to free herself.

This was not the first time she got tied up. She could barely feel her wrists and ankles, but she could move her fingers, which was a good sign. Slowly, without drawing any attention she moved her left fingers under one of her bracers. The move was difficult, and the numb wrist made it even harder. She let out an barely audible gasp when she reached the small blade that she hid there this morning, and froze, her eyes never leaving the troll that was now crouched, looking for something in his backpack. He did not seem to hear her, or give her any importance, so she exhaled in relief. The small blade was a much more harder task than she anticipated, given the fact that her limbs were partially numb, and it kept slipping from her hand. With careful and calculated motions, she positioned the blade inside her wrists facing the ropes.

"Ya' gonna' cut ya'self with dat" the troll's voice made her freeze. At the sudden interruption, the knife slipped trough her weak fingers, and landed on the ground like a useless piece of metal. She punched herself mentally at her sudden slip, and rolled her eyes, irritated.

He turned around, and started walking towards her shocked frame with what appeared to be some piece of cloth in his large hand.

"Stop right there, or I swear to..."she started menacing, before a enormous piece of cool clothing covered her face. She tried to bite his hand, only to clasp her teeth on thin air. She started moving her head frantically from side to side, trying to get the piece of cloth off her face. Her head hurt, like someone was playing some distorted drum rhythm inside her skull, and she could barely breathe. One strong hand suddenly cupped her forehead, pressing her temples, forcing her movements to stop.

"Cut it out, turnip." he said in a low voice, his tone menacing.

Kyra's eyes went wide. The insult made her freeze for a moment. From all she could tell, those bandages could be coated in poison, but she did not have time to think about that. She swiftly turned her head from his grasp, and said through her teeth, locking her furious eyes with his.

"Where did you take Tyrande, troll?"

The rogue looked at her with narrow eyes and puffed with annoyance. He unceremoniously placed the cloth under her nose, wiping the blood from her face, without any regards for her well being. She tried to turn her head again, but his other hand on her forehead kept her steady. She simply hissed at him, but that didn't seem to bother the troll. The short "cleaning" movements were hitting her face, hurting, but it was bringing an surprising relief. The smell of the bandage stung her nostrils, it was the familiar smell of medicine that was used for open wounds. The fact that he was cleaning her face with medicine, puzzled her.

"I asked you something..." she continued, her eyes not leaving his face.

"Answer me, troll!" she hissed, her voice full with anger and annoyance.

Without answering, he crouched and picked up the small knife she dropped earlier. Once again a small hint of fear found her. She looked at him with a deadly stare, expecting the cold blade to pierce through her skin. Instead, the troll rose to his full height, and without any warning, cut the rope that was holding her in the air, the gravity being as predictable as always, making her land unexpectedly on the hard ground, with a loud thump.

A small gasp left her lips. She wanted to land on her feet, but they felt limp and didn't listen, so she touched the ground with her left side, releasing a pained cry. He didn't seem to care, as he crouched next to her, and started to cut the ropes from her hands and ankles, without any regards for her suffering.

He took one look at her and threw the antiseptic cloth on her face, and a flask of something blue next to her. Then, as nothing happened, he walked away, dropping her knife on the forest floor in the process.

"Wipe yo' face with dat, or it will get infected. Yo' leg too. An' drink that crap. That be an antidote fo' tha' poison" he said while walking slowly away .

Kyra looked at him in disbelief. He did not turn back and only stopped when he reached his backpack. She prayed for a short second of strength, so she could crack his head open. Her own helplessness angered her, and the irritation was changing slowly in to frustration as she was trying to bring her body to senses.

She was laying down on her side, feeling a thousand needles piercing her limbs as her hands and feet came to their senses. Careful, she ripped the cloth in two and she placed one piece under her nose, and with great effort got in to a sitting position, resting her back on the tree. The other piece she folded carefully, and placed it on the wound on her upper leg, armor being broken making it easy to bandage it. It stung. She knew she will have to repair it. She took the blue flask and brought it to her nose. It was a common used antidote, being an alchemist herself, she could recognize the recipe. Still, she was being confused and cautious.

"You drink first" she said in a low voice, and threw the flask aside.

"I don' need it."the Troll answered, his back turned at her.

"I got poisoned once by you..."

Silence crawled between them. She could feel the pain from her sore muscles and open wound growing more and more present. She tried not to give herself away, and clenched her jaw. One of them has to give up.

The seconds of silence felt like hours. The troll let out an audible sigh and rose up. Rolling his eyes he walked next to her, took the flask and took a sip. She met his gaze and raised one brow. He rolled his eyes again, opened his mouth and stuck his tongue out. The tongue had a blue streak over it. "He really drank" she thought to herself. The troll leaned in, and held the potion in his outstretched three finger hand towards her. Kyra took the flask slowly, cautious, her eyes never leaving his face, her hand shaky. She smelled it once more, and she knew it was not poison, so she took a sip. The troll rose to his full height, shadow towering over the elf and walked slowly towards his backpack. Kyra sighted in relief.

Pain started to subside slowly, so she took another sip, just to be sure. She lay motionless, afraid to move. Any movement could mean a new shot of pain. Then, she felt it. The potion started to work. Every inch of her frame was stingy, as her body was coming to it's senses, but that was not bad at all. Slowly, the sensation went away, and she could feel her limbs once more. She slowly wiggled her fingers. She smiled. But still, she did not move.

Right now, to play the helpless card was her best option. She placed the flask down on the ground next to her.

"I'm going to kill you, you know that." she muttered, her breath short.

The troll exhaled loudly, shook his head and turned his gaze to his backpack.

" Where is Tyrande, troll? Where are you taking her?"

The troll was silent. He was ignoring her in the most blatant way possible, which made her slightly irritated. He continued to rummage trough his belongings as she was not there.

"I'm going to keep asking you until you will give me something..."

The troll paused for a second. He slowly raised his eyes and looked at her. His gaze was unwavering .

"I don' know" He said in a low voice and returned to his backpack.

"There' s one thing I cannot stand and that's a liar. I hate liars..."she whispered and grinned.

She looked at the small knife that he left on the ground, careless, dangerously close to her. An idea shot through her mind with amazing speed, as she saw her chance. With her left hand, she silently cupped the blade in her palm. Using the tree for support, slowly as not to raise suspicion, she tried to get up on her feet. Her legs felt flabby, and she used all her strength to keep her frame steady. Luckily, the antidote started working, and she started to stabilize herself. She silently inhaled, filling her lungs with air, tensing her muscles. He did not seem to notice her movement, still preoccupied with his stuff. His neck was exposed. A quick cut will do. She smiled to herself.

Her eyes never leaving his face, like a prowling panther, she prepared a full blown attack. She gripped the blade and inhaled once more.

She planted one foot in front of the other, in a battle stance, prepared to attack, when...something hit her right in the head.

Cling!

A small, shiny object bounced from her forehead on the ground. The sudden action took her by surprise, and she looked confused in the direction from which the object came flying.

She could see his outstretched arm, his eyes looking in front of him, avoiding her stare, same as before. He simply motioned towards it, and continued rummaging through his backpack, distracting himself, not willing to meet her gaze. Kyra took a glance at the object, and then back at the rogue, confused and cautious.

"What is that, troll?" she asked, her fist clenched on the knife, her jaw stiff.

"We' met before..."

His deep voice made her change her expression in a mere second. Her jaw dropped. She quickly glanced at the object on the ground...and froze.

A round, silver insignia with intricate markings from Karabor on it was laying on the forest ground. The same one she was wearing hidden under her belt.

A shiver ran down her spine. "No".A lump formed in her throat, and it made her look twice at the object. Even though she was hoping to be wrong, that was Insignia of Karabor. She closed her eyes and shook her head."It cannot be..."

"You could have stolen that" she said in a low voice, starring at the ground. "What proof do I have that you are what you say you are?"

The troll finally looked at her, his eyes piercing through her mind. And as sudden as a breeze, his voice filled her thoughts "I did not steal dat'." she heard in her head, loud and clear.

Her breathing stopped. Kyra felt like her chest became a little tighter, breathing more difficult and couldn't formulate any coherent thought. Sharp, merciless memories cutting through her mind like an army of trained soldiers. "No...After all this time...He can't be..."

"The...Black...Temple..." she let out a barely audible whisper, looking at him. The words sounded eerie. She did not remember the last time when she uttered those words. Even the shape of her mouth forming them was unfamiliar for her now.

"Yes" The troll uttered, staring at the ground. He lifted his gaze, and met hers.

She felt her very soul melting. Emotions long buried were crawling their way to the surface. Guilt. Fear. Dread. Anger. Fear. Fear. Fear.

She was not prepared for that. She was confused and lost. Her lower lip started twitching. Slowly, she turned her gaze towards the troll. His eyes... Where from? What were they? "No..."

She remembered those eyes. The very same eyes that took pity on her in the infirmary, in Shattrah.

She had to ask. She had to ask as to not go insane.

" Why did you remove my faceguard?"

" Had ta' be sure it's you." He mumbled in a low voice, turning his look away from her again, holding his backpack in his hands, fists clenched on the fabric.

"But then you knew...Why did you spare my life?" she asked, her voice almost a whisper. The last words where lingering in the air, and a new wave of feelings washed over her.

She feared what could come next, but still the question was asked. She was prepared for the answer. She heard it so many times. But she wanted to hear it again and again. She needed that pain. She was prepared for it. She was nothing without it.

She raised her chin upwards, in a defiant manner, waiting for the answer.

"'Cause I don' blame ya' fo' what happened..."the troll voice sounded like thunder.

His answer made her numb. He jaw dropped slightly. She looked at the rogue that was avoiding her gaze, and could not believe what she was hearing. And it dawned on her.

He did not try to kill her before. He tried to stop her from killing him...He never used his blades to murder her, he tried to impale or make her slower.

"So you are not one of them...The cultists..." Kyra asked, the words getting stuck in her throat. She looked around, avoiding to look in the direction of the rogue, still not knowing what to do with the new information.

The forest was silent, the air was heavy. The sky was dark, and no movement was around. She took a deep breath, and sat down.

A moment of silence crawled between them again. What could they possible tell to eachother? But it did not bother either of them. It was that moment of stillness that past brothers in arms share. And they both knew it.

Kyra took the insignia from the ground, and handed it to him. He took it, avoiding to look at her.

She broke the silence with a raspy voice, startling him.

"Do you know what is this place?"

He lay on his back, and looked up at the sky.

"No" he said softly."But...I kno' that an hour 'ere, is a second in tha' real world"

"You've been here before?"

"Yes." He muttered for himself.

"Do you know where they took Tyrande?"

" No" he said short.

Her shoulders sunk. It felt like her head was out of ideas. She had no clue where to go. She frowned.

"But I know one thing. If ya' stayed in our world, tha' portal would still be open" he said and put his arms behind his head.

"What does that suppose to mean ?" she got close to him, towering over the troll.

He puffed in annoyance.

"The portal supports a numbah' of people. I' killed two of them, and stepped in. One fo' me, and one ta keep it open. You took the last one' place, so the portal closed..."he added and shrugged.

Kyra looked at him dumbfounded. She knew how portals worked. That meant that the only way out was through battle. So much for her stealth mission...

"But, "he added, "last time when I came 'ere, they came back. This is the place where dey' summon... As far as I kno' .So we get one of 'em, we make 'im create anotha' portal."

" That's it? We wait?"she added sarcastically

"Ya mon. I 'ave a plan for when dey get back. Fill ya on de details later" he said, and turned on his side, his back to her.

"Try ta' get some rest until they get back."

She looked at him adjusting his position on the forest floor like that was an everyday activity for him. He seemed to calm, his arms resting under his head. He was laying on the ground, peaceful. It vaguely sounded like he drifted off. She was appalled. He did not look like a soldier on a battlefield, or an assassin at this point. He looked like a traveler that camped and wanted to rest for a bit.

She started pacing back and forth. This whole situation slowly started to anger her. He could sleep, of course, but she could not. If anything would happen to the Priestess, it will be her fault. Her fault for hesitating. Her fault for letting her people down. For letting her guard down. For trusting a stranger. The thoughts invaded her mind like an angry swarm of bees. It felt like the situation was slipping through her fingers, just like sand...

She stopped, realizing that she could move much better than before. She took two more steppes. Yes, the pain was almost gone. She quickly started to inspect her armor. Her gloved fingers moved slowly over her plate, pushing gently on the spots she felt were loose of weak. It was in good condition. By no means ideal, but good for a couple of battles. The chestpiece was mostly intact, with a few scratches here and there. She looked down and saw a dent in the middle. It still could provide protection though, wich was a good thing. She looked at her legs. Her legplates had a hole in them roughly the size of a palm. She cursed herself for not bringing any tools with her for armor repair. Through the hole she could see her dressed wound. She adjusted the bandage over it one more time, pushing gently. To her luck, the pain subsided greatly. She glanced over the ground, searching for her swords. They were laying not far from her, so she ran over to get them.

"Will ya' cut the clanckin'? I'm tryin' ta sleep. "

His voice startled her, and she stopped and faced him. He was still on the ground, but this time on his back.

"I told ya' ta rest. We have a long wait." He mumbled.

"I'm not going to wait, troll. Tyrande might be in great danger."she quickly added, and grabbed her swords.

" I told ya' ta stay put..."

"And I told you I can't!"

"Why are ya' like dis?"

"My instincts are telling me to go!"

"No, dey are not. That stubborn head o' your is telling you"

"I'm ending this now.."

"You gotta listen ta me..."

"Who put you in charge?"

"Ya' stay put, turnip..."

His low voice rumbled menacingly. His words sounded like a command and that stirred something inside her brain. She slowly turned to face him. Her face was red, her lips in a thin line. She slowly sheathed her weapons and clenched her fists on her hips. Her blood was boiling, and without thinking , she spat:

"I will not. Take. Orders. From. You!"

Her voice echoed through the forest...

He moved so fast towards her, that she saw only a shade. By the time she realized he was moving, the troll was inches away from her. He slammed one hand on her mouth, pinning her to the tree with the other hand. After the initial shock and confusion, in a second the adrenaline levels in her veins went up. A murderous stare was greeting him.

The troll rolled his eyes, and puffed when he realized that the small blade was at his neck. He bared his teeth to her, inches away from her face. His eyes seemed more red and dark than usual. She could see clearly the broken bones from his nose, the frown on his brows. The words came from his cracked lips as a warning and a threat at the same time.

"Don' . Turnip. Dey might hear ya'. Ya'll kill us both."

"I broke your nose once, troll. I can do it again" she replied coldly, pushing the blade into his skin. The knife drew a thin white line on his blue neck. "One wrong move, troll..."

He spat on the ground next to her and moved one step back , grabbing the knife from her hand in one swift motion . She gasped at punched herself mentally for her weak grip. He took to more steppes back, shaking his head at her. Anger still resided in his look . He spat once more on the ground and sat down plunging the knife in the soil, next to him. The troll mumbled something to himself in his language, rolling his eyes.

She did not move at first. There was tension in the air so thick, you cut cut it with a knife. Kyra slowly, composed herself, regaining her upright posture and retorted in a lower voice:

"If they can hear me, that means they are close... What point is there for us to wait like scared critters? If we take the war to them – which we should –they will never see it coming..."

"No. This is not how dis works, mon. Ya stay here. I told ya', I ave a plan." he interrupted her.

Kyra puffed in annoyance, and shook her head . She reached for the crystal in her pocket , took one quick look at it, and to her horror, the light from it was fading.

"You do what you want, then, troll. I'm going after them. I can't lose more time on this nonsense. Don't even dare to stop me." she said in a hushed tone, storming past him, in the direction of the forest. He rose up, one hand outstretched, trying to stop her.

"No...", but it was too late.

His eyes followed the rushing elf a couple of feet, and his neutral expression did not change one bit, when something invisible made her fly mid air, and projected her flat on the ground.

Thud.

She quickly rose up, staring confused at the rogue. The troll opened his mouth, but before words could form, she went forward again...only to get thrown back like before. He did not move, did not even try to help her get up. Scratching his head, he crouched next to her, and added in a small tone.

"Ya' see... As I was tryin' ta say before...All aroun' dis place are invisible walls. Thin air, not letting ya' go any furtha'. I' tried before."

She was laying on the ground, on her back her frame still, her lips in a thin line, brows furrowed. She looked at the troll with hooded, angry eyes, her skin turning purple from embarrassment and anger.

"Why...you did not tell me this?!"she hissed...

"Ya' nevah asked" The rogue said quietly, and went back to his backpack.

She felt useless, stupid and angry. She quickly sat up, and with a loud exhale, let her forehead rest on her bent knees.

" Ya' Priestess is strong." He said in a comforting tone.

" She can handle a bunch of crawlin' hooded idiots"

He slowly grabbed one of his weapons from its sheath and started cleaning it with a piece of cloth, his gaze fixed on the dagger.

Kyra raised her head, looked at him with tired eyes and whispered:

"We...just wait now...? "

"Yes. This is all we can do fo' now."

His last words made her shoulders sink . She tried to find a solution. Something. Anything. No...not a single idea in her clouded head. She slowly reached for the crystal in her pocket. It was fading, slowly. But at the very least that meant that Tyrande was still alive. If barely...

"I hate doing nothing..." she whispered to herself.

Kyra rose up to her feet, shaking the dust away from her slowly approached him, and handed him the folded bandage from before.

"I must say that... I appreciate that you... Your bandage..."she said in a tiny voice

The troll took the cloth, and nodded. He searched in his backpack, and took out another bandage. With his left hand, he unlaced his chestpiece, and exposed a closing wound underneath his ribcage. He pressed the bandage to the wound and his face contorted in a pained grimace. He then proceeded to apply some sort of concoction from a jar to it, and tied the cloth over the injury. Kyra realized that she made that wound earlier with her sword, and a creeping, strange sense of regret crawled in her mind, and she turned her gaze away. She looked at him again, when she heard him lacing his armor back. In a timid tone, she asked him:

"It looks bad, in my opinion...Does it hurt when you move?"

The troll looked at her. She could clearly see he was hurting. His eyes could no mask the pain, even if his face tried to.

"I'm a troll, man. I regenerate fast."he said and rolled his shoulders to adjust the already laced armor.

She hurt him.

She could tell by the scratches on his armor, bruises on his face and the cuts that were full of dirt on his body. And the broken nose, that stood proud and crooked on his hawkish features.

"I'm asking because we might need to team up when they get back... Like it or not. Two are better than one. Can you fight?"

"I can. Can you?" the troll retorted in a mocking tone

Kyra`s gaze darkened. She raised one eyebrow.

"Of course I can" she replied in an icy tone.

"Good" he concluded, and went back to cleaning his daggers.

Kyra furrowed her brows. His sudden sarcastic tone irritated her. She decided to ignore his comment and sat down.

She looked one more time around, and for a lack of better activities started to tend her hair in silence. The fight from before turned it in to a tangled mess, strains getting in to her eyes. She started to detangle the white strands, braiding them one by one, tight to her scalp. She broke the silence unexpectedly, and tuned her face towards him.

"Why are you here?" she asked, preoccupied with her hair.

He stopped his actions for a brief moment.

"You don't need to make conversation" he responded absently.

"I am not." She retorted, anger slowly building up in her voice.

"Long story. " he said, and started packing his scattered things.

"Make it short, then." Kyra hissed

He scratched his head, and looked in front of him, preoccupied by his belongings.

"Don' wanna" he said calmly

"You know why I'm here. It's only fair that you tell me why you are here. It's a matter of trust." She made sure she emphasized the last word.

The troll looked at her and held her gaze for a moment, as to see if she was really interested.

"Alright then "he started, his voice calm. " Their leadah took something that belongs ta me... An' he made tha mistake of letting this troll live" he said in a low voice, and continued with his task. "Happy now?"

"Happy now?" she mimicked him.

The troll stopped and looked at her in surprise.

"What is ya' problem, elf?" he whispered.

Kyra exhaled loudly, a tangle from her hair was stubbornly preventing her from braiding the rest of it. She gave up and let a low growl.

"You are my problem..." She mumbled.

"Wha' was that?" he slowly turned his gaze towards her.

"You. Are. My. Problem. " she cupped her face in despair." I was doing fine. I was doing excellent. I was suppose to bring back Tyrande or die trying to do that. Now you appeared with your weird mysterious story, heading the same way as I do. And we've met before, so you know who I am. You did not kill me, while tried to poison me. You are confusing and I feel like I have to trust you, but I don't want to at the same time."

The troll looked at her as she slowly let her head fall on her bent knees. A mass of tangled silver locks was framing her face. He slowly rose up and got up close to her.

"Can I braid ya' hair?"

She thought that she misheard him. She looked up and saw him looking straight at her. There was no question, she heard him well.

"What?"

"Ya hair. I can braid it. Ya gonna need it for the battle. Ya can't untagle it."

"Are you joking?" she retorted, her gaze narrowed.

"It's a mattah of trust..."

He was getting back at her with her own words. Clever play.

"I don't need your help" she retorted, and proceeded to continue with that stubborn strand. Her hand got tangled again, and anger washed over her, but she tried to hide it. She pulled the hair over and over, until the weakness in her arms made her to stop. Her arms fell limp on the ground, and she gave up.

The troll watched her, his arms crossed on his chest. When she gave up, he started walking towards her. He slowly got close, palms upfront, as to show her that he was unarmed. She looked at him in His hands looked incredibly big and his fingers clumsy. There was no way he could braid her hair. Any hair for that matter.

But he was right. Long tangled hair could posses a disadvantage. Plus they could face many enemies. She sighted.

"Don't try anything funny" she whispered

"I am no' stupid" he added, standing still, palms up, waiting for her approval

"Give me the knife." she said in a calm tone.

He obliged. He slowly reached for the small knife and handed it to her. She quickly grabbed it with her left hand.

"If you try anything, I will kill you. And cut my hair afterwards"

He was still standing there, looking at her, palms up, as before.

She nodded in approval,

He slowly moved behind her, and crouched. He did not touch her hair, cautious of her possible change of heart. When he was sure she was not going to back down, he started.

He ran his fingers through her hair, slowly and patiently detangling every twist of her silver white waves. She had beautiful hair, he noticed, running his hands trough it. It smelled odd. A mix of fruits and alcohol. Or was it peacebloom? He stopped. There was blood in her hair. His blood. It was gripping some strands in it's red grasp, like an intruder. He shook his head, and continued with his task. War is war after , strand by strand, her hair started to submit to his magic. Once it was free of knots and dirt, he started to braid it.

For Kyra it felt strange. It felt comforting in a bizarre way. For a creature that had huge hands, his actions felt quite delicate. She did not remembered the last time someone touched her scalp. It was a pleasant feeling. But an unfamiliar one. So oddly foreign it felt, that it scared her. She calmed herself by thinking

"Tell ya' what. We make a deal, warrior. And a deal is a deal. A trade if ya' want"

"What do you mean?" she asked, confused

"Ya' help me kill their leader. I do everthin' in ma' power to help you free ya Priestess. And I give ya' my word."

"Your name." she uttered. "Not your word. Your name."

His actions stopped for a second. He could feel him hesitate.

" Roh'khin " he exaled slowly.

"Roh'khin da' Kah " she heard echoing in her mind. "It means da' masked one"

"No tribe?" she asked

"No. Used ta' be Darkspear if dat counts"

"Good. Then it's a deal. If you lie, I'll find you."

He nodded his head, rose to his full height, and offered his hand to her.

"Done already?" she asked surprised.

Kyra touched her head and felt the tight braiding with and intricate pattern. She brought the braid to her front and gasped in amazement.

"Thank you.." she smiled and rose up.

She accepted his hand. Her hand looked small in his palm, and for a brief moment she wondered if she ever stood a chance when they fought before. She smiled and locked his eyes with his. But in a second her eyes went wide, and fear washed over her . She realized her faceguard was missing. She talked this whole time with him, and he saw her scar, he saw her deformed mouth. She quickly turned around, pulling her hand from his, her eyes frantically searching for her faceguard on the ground. Her hands started shaking, her lower lip twitching. She saw it, and her expression lit up. She leapt towards it, and with a swift motion grabbed it off the ground. She tried to equip it with her back at him, when she heard his deep voice behind her.

"Food?"

The question took her by surprise, and she stopped her movements. She slowly turned towards him, with her faceguard in her hand. He stood there, like nothing happened, searching in his backpack.

"I ...I.." she said slowly, looking at the faceguard in her shaking hands "I..guess..."

She looked at him . He seemed preoccupied by him backpack again, and she started slowly to approach him.

He grabbed two pieces of Lyribread wrapped in banana leaves, from his backpack. She could feel the familiar smell of fried trout too, and her guess was right. He handed her a piece of bread, and then a handful of small fried fish. She slowly let the faceguard rest on the took the food in her hands and looked at the troll.

The realization struck her like ton of bricks. If she would eat, she would not have to wear her faceguard.

She stood there, with food in her hands, starring at the weird rogue that seemed to have no care in this world. The troll simply took his share of the food, sat next to her, and started eating. She could feel a lump in her throat forming.

"Eat." He said calmly, looking at his share of food.

She took a bite of bread, and chewed slowly, trying to look in front of a sight they were. Enemies, eating in silence next to eachother, turning the past battleground in to a sanctuary.

It was the first time after so many years that she was sharing a meal with someone.

And a strange unknown feeling washed over her...