Y'all miss me? Because I missed you all. Sorry I've been inactive af recently. School has been chaotic and I've been working on other writing/art projects as well. 3
The hellish orange skies of the Plaguelands deeply unsettled Majiave, making a shiver of fear crawl up her spine. Her fingers tightened around her bow, preparing herself for the onslaught of undead that would come at any moment. The Argent Dawn had recently learned that the Scarlet Crusade which was stationed here was annihilated. Their defiance only supplied the Lich King more soldiers.
And seeing as how the dead already outnumbered the living 20-1, she didn't see how this could go in their favor. However, they had no choice but to try. Azeroth depended on them. Her lips curled into a deep frown as she continued her watch, her tabard depicting the lion of Stormwind bloodied and torn from earlier battles. Her own armor was splattered with blood as well, the golden colors tarnishing and littered with scratches or dents.
Her silver, almond shaped eyes scanned the dense fog that likely hid her enemies from sight, but even so, the priestess felt strangely calm. Her silver hair was stirred by a sudden breeze that came through the area, delicate nostrils flaring with disgust as she smelled something like-
Rotting flesh...
She quickly stepped to the side as a saronite arrowhead flew past her, seeing her own wide-eyed reflection in the gleaming metal. She turned her head, spotting bleached white bone amongst the fog. Rotted boots surrounding what used to be its feet, and its jaw was unhinged in a permanent gasp. Or, perhaps, a scream of pure terror.
Another arrow flew towards her like a bullet from a gun, causing the elf to cartwheel away. She landed in a crouch before reaching behind her back, pulling out a sharpened glaive before throwing it with deadly accuracy. The bones crumbled as the blade made contact, returning to her hand as she ran to the chapel. The Crusaders needed to know that time was up.
The Scourge was coming.
Lindrith's nightsaber snarled, sharpened claws tearing up the earth with impatience, calming down only when her mistress stroked her fur, skulls hanging from the cat's collar swirling in the gentle breeze. Arlin was sitting beside her on his own mount of choice, his dark blue eyes narrowed into icy slits, a unique hint of crimson at the edges. She smiled slightly. Their new recruit would be a powerful weapon for destroying the Argent Dawn, for his power and dominance over the lifeblood of their enemies was the strongest she's ever seen.
Perhaps that was why her Master had promoted him to a Scourge Commander.
He turned his head, noticing her staring. "What do you want, general." His voice was as cold as the frozen heart of Icecrown. If Lindrith could still feel the warmth of life, a shiver of dreaded cold would've shivered up her spine.
"Nothing at all, commander. I was merely thinking." His eyebrow raised, indicating her to elaborate. "I was thinking about how with your power in our arsenal, the Argent Dawn wouldn't stand a chance." The other death knight shrugged, looking disinterested.
"They were going to be eradicated anyway, even without me here." His three-fingered hands tightened on the reins, his gaze once again fixed ahead as Highlord Darion turned to face them on his deathcharger. They could both notice his grip on his legendary weapon - the Corrupted Ashbringer - tightening. To her, it looked as if he was afraid of losing it in the heat of the battle soon to take place.
"Death knights of Acherus, the death march begins!" He raised his hands to the sky, placing his weapon across his saddle. His eyes had a fanatical gleam to them as he spoke an incantation. "Soldiers of the Scourge, death knights of Acherus, minions of the darkness: hear the call of the Highlord! RISE!" The ground shook as thousands of ghouls and other types of undead clawed out from underneath the plagued soil, taking their place by the death knights. Saliva dripped from their ruined jaws, for even they could smell the flesh of the living.
And they were hungry for it.
Lindrith looked up as blood began to rain from the sky. She had no idea how such a thing was possible, but she wasn't going to question it. She had missed Mograine's next few words, but when she saw him point toward the direction of the chapel, she immediately urged her saber after, the vicious cat snarling and pelting in the direction of Light's Hope.
Her blade thirsted, and she would quench it with the souls of the fallen.
Majiave's grip tightened around her bow, her fingers turning white beneath her gloves. She knew that she might die in this battle, but she didn't care. She would give her life to protect her home. Elune would ensure her body wouldn't be corrupted by the Lich King's foul necromancy. Or at least she so hoped.
The stench of rotting flesh was nearly overwhelming as the army of the Scourge came into view, three death knights she was more than familiar with leading the charge. She trembled slightly, appalled by the fact that she would possibly be the reason why they died. Even so, she couldn't abandon her duty to the people of Azeroth, to the people of the Alliance. Thrusting her arm out, she shouted, "champions! Prepare yourselves, they come!"
The other members of the Argent Dawn adjusted behind her, Alyria nocking a flaming arrow in her bow, as the others pulled out weapons of all kinds. They, too, would fight, and to the death if necessary.
She had a strong feeling it would be necessary.
Reaching down to her hip, her fingers plucked out an arrow from her quiver before she nocked it, the bowstring trembling with tension. She released as soon as one of the Scourge's soldiers came into range, the arrow striking true in his eye. The shaft split apart as two more arrows joined it, the knight twisting as he fell. She pulled out another arrow from her quiver, the arrowhead gleaming with Elune's light as she called upon the power of her goddess. She dodged to the side as a ghoul jumped for her, its jaws unhinged as if it intended to devour her whole. The arrow whisked out from her side, stabbing the ghoul in the side of the head before taking one of her blades in her belt, slicing through the sinew holding him together.
The ghoul fell into a pile of bones as she nocked the arrow she had dug out, her fingers pulling on the bowstring before releasing, finding its way into the eye socket of another death knight. She felt pleasure fill her at the sight of the kill, but she knew that there were many more enemies to be dealt with. She spun around on her heel, locking eyes with the three death knights she once had a personal connection with and two that had severed it. Her fingers tightened on the grip.
She would make them pay. She would make them all pay.
Lindrith launched herself from her saber at blinding speed, Majiave barely getting her blade up to deflect her younger sister's strike, and to save herself from certain death. The death knight smiled darkly. "You're getting slow, sister. Must be because of the loss of your immortality!"
"I've lived long enough. I don't need immortality anymore. Our people have grown arrogant and foolish because of it." Lindrith let out a cold laugh, a mockery of the laugh that she once possessed.
"Our people? They're not my people anymore, dear sister. The dead and my brothers and sisters of the damned are my people now."
"Then you can suffer the same fate as them!" Majiave deflected her blades outward, catching Lindrith on the side and flinging her away.
The death knight stabbed her weapon into the ground, stopping herself from descending too far away from her target. As her feet finally came to a halt, she pulled her blade out of the ground. Her icy blue gaze turned back to her older sister, a slight smirk curling her bloodless lips. "I admire your conviction, sister. You shall make a worthy servant of the Lich King..."
Majiave met her gaze evenly, the silver orbs narrowing in anger. "Not while I still draw breath. I swear by Elune's power that flows through my veins, I shall end your murderous existence!" The death knight licked her lips, a sadistic gleam in her eyes.
"Elune's power cannot save you..." Her sword once again arced down as she charged, and it was clear that she was no longer holding back. She fought with the full intention to kill. Then I shall hold nothing back either! Her swords held back Lindrith's own, the night elf grinding her teeth from the effort of holding back her sister's unholy strength. Elune, Mother Moon, forgive this humble one for disturbing your rest! I beseech you, grant me your blessing and allow me to strike down these unholy creatures in your light!
A faint aura of moonlight surrounded the priestess, growing in intensity before blinding the death knight, Lindrith screaming in agony and rage as she turned away her gaze. "You accursed priestess! You will pay dearly for that!"
"If Elune will ever give you back your sight, witch!" Majiave hissed angrily, her blades raised to strike the final blow, but she hesitated. Seeing her little sister curled up on the parched ground, covering up her eyes and writhing in agony from the blinding light reignited a feeling deep in her heart she thought she had buried long ago.
She… She doesn't deserve this…
Slowly, the aura faded from the priestess as she lowered her weapons, looking distraught before she reached out a hand. "Sister, I-" The wind blew out of her lungs as Lindrith kicked her straight in the chest. She could feel her ribs cracking beneath the weight of her sister's boot, her armor little more than tin foil as it crushed into her, the sheer force of the blow sending her flying backward.
Her breath came in agonized gasps, lavender blood dripping from her lips as she held a hand to her side. It took everything she had just to sit up. Damn it!
"Foolish, foolish sister… Compassion is your weakness, one others will take advantage of." Lindrith lifts up her weapon, the sunlight reflecting off the metal and shining down on the injured priestess. And yet, Majiave could feel nothing but darkness and dread. A dark smile curved the bloodless lips of the death knight. "Don't worry, that compassion shall be purged when you are reborn… And then we can be together, fighting side by side! Forever…"
As the weapon descended, Majiave prayed to her goddess, her eyes squeezing shut as she uttered the words rapidly beneath her breath. Time felt as if it slowed down, Elune's light flooding into her body, spreading warmth throughout her body. Her ribs mended and strength flowed back into her, a hand reaching up. A faint aura of moonlight surrounded the priestess just before her hand hit the metal of the blade, the weapon shattering from the impact.
Lindrith lurched back in surprise, holding the hilt of her weapon still as Majiave stood up. Elune's light, her love, continued to envelop the priestess, shielding her from any harm that might come to her. A brief flash of fear flickered across Lindrith's features. "H-how? How is this possible!?"
"Elune doesn't abandon her children to the darkness, sister. Not even you…"
"Liar," Lindrith screamed, her eyes alight with seething, murderous anger, but Majiave could see the emotion buried deep beneath the surface. An emotion the Lich King had failed to purge in Lindrith's rebirth.
She saw despair.
"Elune didn't save me, or anyone else who died in all the wars we've fought in! You remember the War of the Satyr, the War of the Shifting Sands! Elune doesn't exist, and even if she did, she abandoned us long ago!" Lindrith almost sounded like a child abandoned by a once caring mother as she spoke, her body shaking from rage. "She abandoned me to this fate…"
The ground beneath their feet began to rumble before they both lost their balance, falling to the parched earth. Taking advantage of the situation, Majiave lept atop her younger sister, pinning her hands above her head. "Elune does not abandon her children, sister! Your fate was unfortunate and unexpected, but in the end, the blame falls upon those who had committed the act!" She lowered her face to hers, her silver hair falling over her shoulders and curling in waves on the ground. "We cannot save everyone, nor can Elune. We're not meant to…"
"You abandoned me!" Lindrith shrieked like a banshee, the sound ringing in Majiave's ears. "You left me in Lorderon, you left me to be controlled by that monster, and you did nothing to try to save me!" The priestess's fingers curled tighter around the death knight's, squeezing painfully.
"If I abandoned you, then why would I be here now, sister?" She lowered her face even more, her silver eyes boring into her sister's blue. Unblinking, unwavering, but not unkindly either. "I cannot save you from his control, only you can do that. Fight against him, Lindrith! Fight, damn you!"
Lindrith's breath, something she no longer needed, thundered within her chest. Her blue eyes were wide as she continued to stare at her sister above her, Majiave's screams and pleas for her to fight becoming more and more distant as the Lich King's presence brushed her mind.
You are mine… The voice of her Lord and Master growled angrily. She could almost feel his rage radiating from him. I own your soul, your life, everything.
A pressure grew in her mind, and yet, his hold on her wavered. She could feel her thoughts, her actions, were once again her own. Her fingers squeezed Majiave's, nearly to the point of intertwining, before she gasped, tears streaming from eyes that were once cold and soulless, "help...me…"