Sunlight shone through the curtains, illuminating the room. Majiave blinked open her eyes and climbed out of the bed she didn't remember getting into last night. Her hand was still badly cut up, she needed to bandage it before Tyrande found out. But Tyrande would see the bandage, what excuse could she come up with? What could she say? "Oh, sorry mom. I went into Lindrith's room last time and accidentally cut open my palm and fingers on a shard I think she placed there." Pfft. Yeah, right. She'd blow up right in Majiave's face, or think her daughter was insane. Majiave shook her silver head, clearing her mind in the process.
She would think about it later, there were more important things to worry about at the moment. She took some bandages out from a drawer, wrapping them tightly on her injured hand. She used her teeth to extend the last strip before taking a sharp knife and cutting it to the length she desired. She tied each end up together in a tight knot. Satisfied, Majiave slung her quiver, heavy with arrows, over her shoulder. Sparing a second to grab her bow, she walked out of her quarters.
For possibly the last time.
But she couldn't shirk her duty, not now, it was too important. While the living were still here, Arthas would plot, he would butcher. If he wanted a war, the Alliance and Horde will give him one. And he will not find them pushovers. If he truly wanted Azeroth, he would have to fight tooth and nail for it, for Majiave-anyone who was still loyal to their faction-will fight to defend their very lifestyle.
"You will not win this war, Arthas," Majiave growled under her breath. "You will fall. You will pay for everything you've done. No matter how big, or how small."
I'd love to see you try, sister... Lindrith sneered in her head, but Majiave ignored it.
"Majiave?"
At the sound of a voice, Majiave jumped and lost her footing, crashing into a pillar. She rubbed her silver hair, grunting with pain as she stood up. "Sorry, I startled you, are you okay?" The night elf looked up into the eyes of Thaldryn, the love interest of her deceased sister.
"Yeah, I'm fine, Thaldryn." The mage seemed awkward around her and Majiave's eyes narrowed. "What are you doing here? I thought you were banished to Dire Maul!" The words came out more sharply than she had intended.
The night elven mage smiled nervously and rubbed the back of his neck with his right arm. "Right... Well, I, uh, came to help."
"Thaldryn, this isn't your batt-" Thaldryn shook his brilliant green head, cutting Majiave off before she could finish.
"But it is. If the Scourge manages to break through the Alliance and Horde's defenses, this world is doomed. You'll need all the help you can get. And, I...I just have to see her again. To know she's okay, even if she does kill me afterward."
I would kill him afterward. But I suppose I could resurrect him to be a Death Knight... Lindrith mused.
You will not touch him!
Try and make me. You're nothing against me.
We'll see about that... All Majiave got in return was dark laughter, sending a chill down her spine.
"Right, I should get going..." Majiave said, trying to get away from Thaldryn. It was just too painful to be around the person her sister loved. But he wouldn't let up.
"I'll come with you." They fell into easy step. Majiave opened her mouth to argue, but Thaldryn held up a hand. "Tyrande already knows. She isn't very happy, but she'll let me help you."
"That isn't what I was going to ask," Majiave growled under her breath, but Thaldryn didn't hear her.
The merciless sun beat down upon the lands of Durotar. The sand was scolding hot to the touch. Majiave was very glad she was wearing boots, but her chainmail armor didn't help her whatsoever against the heat. She envied Thaldryn, for he was wearing light purple robes, his green hair (startlingly the same shade as Lindrith's) being unstirred by the desert winds.
"It's being in lands like this that make me glad that we live in a forest," Thaldryn said cheerfully, looking around with a childlike wonder. But Majiave ignored him, she was deep in thought, going through every chance of the outcome of this battle. They all either ended up with the defenders of Orgrimmar becoming mindless pawns or the Alliance and the Horde continuing their campaign in Northrend and then being turned into mindless pawns.
That couldn't be allowed to come to pass. They fought off the Burning Legion, twice now, surely they could handle the Scourge?
"But how do we defeat an enemy whose forces grow with every enemy they slaughter?" Majiave whispered aloud, despair starting to creep over her.
"The key is to turn his own power against him." Majiave stared at Thaldryn, startled, as he spoke. "If we somehow convince the Death Knights that their master doesn't care if they die, or he suddenly betrays them, then we can use his power against him."
"If you think his own champions will turn against him, you're insane..." The night elven mage only shrugged. His green hair followed the gesture.
"Maybe, maybe not. Only time will tell." Majiave continued staring at him until an angry yell split the air. Without looking back, Majiave raced into Orgrimmar, only to be met with a small axe being held to her throat.
"Not one step closer, Whisperwind!" Garrosh snarled, pressing the axe closer to her throat. "You are not welcome here..."
"She is here by my invitation, Garrosh," Thrall said calmly, nodding with respect toward Majiave. She lowered the axe with gentle pressure, offering a cool smile to Garrosh.
"Be careful with those, Hellscream. You could've killed your own ally." She then glared at the warrior before turning away, her silver hair following the gesture.
"I'm going to go on a whim here and say he doesn't like you." A musical yet cold voice sounded behind her. Majiave didn't even turn around to acknowledge the speaker.
"Sylvanas..." Majiave growled slightly, her fingers twitching. Out of all the leaders of the Horde, she and Sylvanas held the most hatred of each other. She could tell the Banshee Queen was amused.
"Aw, is little Majiave Whisperwind upset?" She said in a mocking tone. Majiave ignored the banshee's words, much to Sylvanas's annoyance. She then slowly turned around.
"I did not come here to argue with you, banshee." Majiave's voice was dangerously quiet. "I came here to help my people. To help Azeroth." The Queen of the Forsaken narrowed her crimson eyes. Majiave met them steadily, and it was Sylvanas who looked away.
"Just stay out of my way, Whisperwind, and I'll stay out of yours..." She had snarled. "Arthas is mine."
"We'll see when the time comes, Sylvanas." Majiave retorted, turning away as well. Hanaak looked at her with a neutral expression. His brown orbs darted from Sylvanas-then to Majiave-then back to Sylvanas. A small smile curved his lips.
"I'm impressed. No one has ever stood up to her like that." He sounded genuine. Majiave narrowed her eyes, gritting her teeth.
"She wasn't the only one who had lost loved ones to the Scourge, so she needs to get in line." Her voice was a low growl, silver eyes flaring with anger. Hanaak didn't reply. He was looking at the sky, eyes narrowed. Then he looked over at the gates.
"This doesn't feel right. It's too quiet..." Majiave tilted her head, ears flicking.
"You're right. I can't feel any wind whatsoever, or hear any wildlife..." They shared a horrified expression.
"Don't tell me they're already here!" They spoke in unison, fear easily recognized in their voices. As if on cue, a sinister horn blared, and undead stormed the gates. Majiave barely had time to raise the alarm before the undead reached the first line of defense.
They're early! The Sin'dorei still aren't here yet! Majiave silently cursed Arthas and his cunning mind, attacking when they were unprepared.
"Positions, now!" Thrall's voice rose above the catastrophe. "Do not let them pass!" Majiave didn't need to be told twice. She raced up one of the zeppelin towers, giving her a sniper's eye view of the battle. Pulling out her bow and loading an arrow into it her eyes darted amongst her enemies until she found the one she was looking for.
Lindrith...
Her younger sister was weaving through the undead and living, cutting down Horde members left and right before effortlessly resurrecting them into mindless pawns. Her silver-grey armor was splattered with blood. But the most disturbing thing was on her face. She was smiling. Lindrith was the last person Majiave would want to harm, but she had little options in the matter. It was obvious she was leading this invasion. Capturing her would prove fruitful.
Majiave slowed her breathing as she pulled back the bow string, the arrow head pointed at Lindrith's shoulder.
I'm sorry, little sister, but you've given me no choice. Tears began to form in her eyes as the tension in the string doubled. Please, forgive me... The string was released and the arrow was flung from her shaft, flying with incredible speed toward the shoulder of her sister. Lindrith let out a small laugh.
"Pathetic, Majiave." She then reached out with an arm, plucking the arrow from the sky before snapping it in half. She then faced the area where Majiave was in. "Your little arrows won't work on me." Majiave narrowed her eyes and sheathed her bow. Lindrith grinned and made a taunting gesture. "Come."
Majiave wasted no time in doing so. Sparing a moment to grant her swords, Majiave jumped off the tower, landing in a roll before charging Lindrith. The elven death knight smirked and brought up her runeblade, deflecting Majiave's swords with a satisfying clang. "You'll have to try a lot harder than that."
"Then how's this?" Majiave grabbed Lindrith's wrist before effortlessly flipping the death knight over her shoulder. Lindrith was laying in the sand, Majiave's boot upon her chest. The death knight spit out sand, staring at Majiave with a venomous expression, yet it failed to faze her. "You don't frighten me, little sister." A soft chuckle started in Lindrith's throat. Then it turned into wild, evil laughter.
"You're so naïve, Majiave." Majiave's silver brows knit together, a snarl tugging at her lips.
"What are you talking about?" She didn't like the smile that spread across Lindrith's lips.
"This isn't just some random attack. We're here for a specific person. That person just so happens to be your lover..."