CHAPTER 2

The war in Warlock

With no other obstacles impeding their journey, Aranaya and Valharian arrived at Ravenholdt in due time. Though Aranaya had no plan to speak of, she knew the events that followed would revolve almost entirely around the unwitting Warlock and it was imperative he be kept safe until he was ready. Leaving Valharian to rest on the lower floor, she made her way up to Fahrad's room and found the grand master discussing something of clear importance with two other shady characters. Like him they were human, but wore dark covers over their heads to hide their facial features. After several moments of deliberation Fahrad noticed the Sin'dorei waiting patiently by the door.

"Ah. Gentlemen, I have other matters to attend to. I'm sure you have everything you need."

The two dark figures glanced at Aranaya and stood motionless for a moment as if studying her. Though their entire faces were well covered, she could have sworn they sneered at her. Swiftly they disappeared onto the balcony and out of sight, leaving Fahrad to switch his attention.

"I assume all went well." He said in an upbeat tone, "That particular cult is widely known as tricky to deal with."

"He's safe." Aranaya interrupted, "But not for long. Not here."

Fahrad slowly nodded and began thinking. He bit his lower lip as his eyes drifted around the room.

"What about the cabal?" The Elf asked.

"Hmm... No. They all but fell apart after Valharian disappeared, they'd be no use to you as they are. And besides, I wouldn't even know where to find them. Their former leader instructed them well on disguising their location."

Aranaya took a deep breath and sighed. She hated the idea of having no options, it felt restricting and hopeless. Even with a safe place to hide, she knew the people looking for Valharian would have little trouble finding him. She sank on to a nearby chair and draped her arms toward the floor. It was obvious she needed help.

"Get some rest." Fahrad suggested. "I'll call in a few contacts and see if I can figure something out."

That was the one thing Aranaya didn't feel like doing. Even though the episode in Silverpine had taken a lot out of her, the idea of sleeping in such a tense situation was the last thing on her mind. Still, she had no other suggestions and if what she expected next was true she would need her energy.

Rather curiously Aranaya slept very soundly that night and didn't awake until the middle of the following day. The sound of combat practice in the gardens finally wrestled her from her unconsciousness and curious she decided to investigate. From the balcony overlooking the practice grounds she could make out several miscellaneous Rogues working on their swordplay. Even though she had been to Ravenholdt many times in the past, she had never thought of it as a place to improve oneself. It was after all a haven for talented assassins, the idea of it doubling as a school of sorts was almost comical to her.

Aranaya's study of the battle below was suddenly interrupted as a rather quiet stranger entered the room. Lesser-trained ears would probably have missed the sound completely. Slowly she turned her head and her eyes widened at the sight of a very familiar figure.

"Your timing is a little off..." She muttered sarcastically. "I needed your help about a year ago."

The character in question was none other than the infamous master assassin himself, 'The Wolf'. He stood rather tall for a human, wearing a long black rain coat and a large fedora covering his lengthy matted hair. Having plucked Aranaya from a life of magic-addiction as a child, the enigmatic assassin raised her in his own image. Everything she is and everything she can do was passed down directly from him. He was her mentor and she, his protégé. It had been a number of years since Aranaya finally stood on her own laurels and gained the title of 'Crimson Wolf' among tavern-goers and superstitious nay-Sayers. It was only to be expected considering her similar style to that of her teacher.

"You're a big girl now." He replied with a smile, "Besides, you know as well as I that you made it personal. I had no place in that."

Aranaya sunk her head and fell silent. He was right, what happened was her own doing and she deliberately shut everyone out. Perhaps the time had come to pay for that mistake and there was nothing she could do. But she would never believe that; fate was an excuse to her, never an obstacle.

"So what happened? It was the demon hunter again correct?"

"Yes." Aranaya replied with a sigh. "His fanaticism with that damned rock nearly killed us all."

"And is he dead?"

"Possibly. But that's the least of my problems."

Suddenly she turned to her once-father figure and stared at him with a determined expression. Even with his unusual positive outlook on life, the Wolf could tell things were getting serious. His Elven student was always sombre regardless of the situation but this was clearly something else.

"There's a world..." She began, "...exactly like this one. The same people, the same places, just... well, different. It was there that Raythe found what he was looking for."

The Wolf drew in a calm breath and nodded in understanding. The story was not unfamiliar to him.

"This... 'Scious' that he thought you had?"

"Yes." Aranaya replied, devoid of any real emotion. She paused for a moment. "What do you know of Sargeras?"

Now the conversation was starting to worry the reclusive human. Though he rarely concerned himself with anything outside of his area of expertise, some legends were known by everyone simply because that's what they were – legends. Sargeras was the epitome of evil, the insane leader of the destructive burning legion and the biggest threat Azeroth had ever faced. Just the mention of his name was enough to instil fear into even the coldest of hearts.

"I know he's not something a young Sin'dorei should concern herself with." He replied in a very clear and suggestive tone.

Aranaya rolled her eyes. It was too late for that; events beyond her control had already been set into motion. And to make matters worse, the one person capable of remedying the entire situation was suffering from long-term memory loss.

"Listen to me..." She snapped, "Raythe tried to use the Scious in Stranglethorn and pulled us both into that twisted mirror realm. It fell into some very bad hands and that's when I found out what its real purpose was."

"And what's that? A weapon?"

"No." Aranaya scoffed. "Something worse. A group of fanatical demon-worshippers planned to use it summon the spirit of Sargeras. The Scious is connected to him, if used properly it grants him an ethereal form."

The Wolf narrowed his eyes and blinked in confusion. This was huge, such a revelation was almost impossible to comprehend. He rubbed the back of his neck and gave the news some thought; it didn't all seem to add up.

"Well... what happened to it?" He asked finally.

"I broke it." Aranaya replied after a brief pause. "It split into three pieces and disappeared."

"Disappeared like it did in Stranglethorn? So then... it's here somewhere?"

The Elf nodded in affirmation; that was certainly her guess. Unfortunately the one person capable of finding the missing pieces had lost his memory and didn't even know he had the ability. To make matters worse, Aranaya wasn't the only person who knew about it.

The meeting between the two veteran assassins was interrupted by the sound of violence from outside. There was something different to this and quickly Aranaya pushed past her former mentor and vaulted over the wooden railing overlooking the floor below. As soon as she hit the ground floor she rolled and broke into a sprint towards the main entrance. Once outside she found herself facing a group of very familiar demon-worshippers, with the amnesiac Valharian stood between them and her. The tallest of the cultists stepped forward and removed his black hood, revealing the pale grey face of an aged human. His head was devoid of any hair and in its place was a series of snaking tattoos that covered his scalp. His eyes were red and his expression was just as fiery.

"You... will come with... us..." He demanded with a croaky voice whilst pointing a quivering finger at the Warlock.

Valharian, clearly caught by surprise stood motionless, unsure how to respond. However even without his memory his intelligence was still evident, and he quickly realised he was of some considerable value to them.

"I don't think so..." He stuttered, trying his best to remain calm as he tried his luck.

The cultist had no patience and roared in frustration as he thrust his arm in a swinging motion and hit Valharian with a powerful shadowbolt. The Elf flew a good thirty feet, arms flailing until he hit the nearby manor wall. Unconscious, he slumped to the ground. Aranaya moved her attention from his seemingly-lifeless body and instead focused on his attacker.

"I need him alive..." She announced before quickly drawing two daggers from the base of her back. "...So please be a little more careful."

Her opponent seemed to care even less about her than he did the Warlock and effortlessly discharged a second shadowbolt. Aranaya nimbly leaned to one side as the spell soared past her before straightening up again. It would take more than that to take her down. Allowing no time for the cultist to regain his composure, she immediately rushed his position and pounced into the air, spinning horizontally in hopes of slashing him with some force. One of her daggers managed to tear into his casting arm forcing him backwards in reflex. As her left foot touched the ground she spun once more and her second dagger cut the air mere inches from his face. She was fast and he knew it.

"Kill her!" He frantically announced as he attempted a short retreat.

Within moments Aranaya was surrounded and as a Rogue that was not a good position for her to be in. The cultists each drew a blade and prepared to strike all at once, leaving the cornered Elf with very few options. She glanced around quickly, searching for options but it was too late. Yet more blood was spilled. The robed acolytes were flung in several directions, their sudden screams a testament to their surprise. Aranaya looked upwards from the ground in confusion to find bodies hitting the ground in all directions. A sword impaled the ground a short distance from her head acting as a prelude to the assault. Calmly she turned her head toward the manor and found Valharian recovered from his attack. His right hand flickered with green energy and his attitude seemed somewhat... different. He gazed at the cultist leader clutching his wounded arm and spoke directly;

"No second chances..."

The Warlock released a blinding bolt of shadow energy and watched as it tore through his opponent's body. The aged acolyte hit the ground in several pieces leaving literally no survivors to the onslaught. Breathing a sigh of relief, Aranaya dropped her head and smiled for the first time in years - Perhaps there was hope after all. She turned to Valharian who glanced back at her. He winked in his usual confident manner and shook the flickering embers from his hand.

They had a lot to discuss.