A/N: Ahh! Thank you guys so much for leaving me so many wonderful reviews on the last chapter. It seems like you guys are enjoying the longer chapters, so I'll keep on pushing for something close to that length (although honestly I hope not another five thousand word one because that was just extreme). Anyway, I've been waiting for this chapter for a ridiculously long time, and I'm super excited about it, so I won't ramble much longer.

Side note- If you haven't gotten a chance to check out my Winter Veil story, it would mean the world to me if you did.

Have a great holiday, guys! -Skye xx

...

six

Maiev stared idly into the fire, watching the flames twist and dance and blur before her, watching the smoke tendrils dissipate into the air above, thinking that maybe if she kept focusing on the flickering shadows and sparks, it might offer enough of a distraction for her to forget all about Tyrande and Illidan and Naisha.

So far, it hadn't proven all that effective, but it was all she had to keep herself occupied anyway. As soon as the High Priestess had stormed off, Maiev had taken it upon herself to resume her watch, refusing to let any of the others take over for her. She didn't want sleep. She didn't even want to sit here throughout the night, because every second they wasted was a second that Illidan was allowed to get further away. Seeing him, being so close to him, and knowing that he had once again stolen something from her, has evoked a whole new rage within her. She could not allow him to get away again or to take any more lives.

She turned her gaze away from the fire then, looking instead to Malfurion where he sat across from her. Once their boat had been secured, the Sentinels and Druids had come to join the others in getting a few hours of much needed rest before they continued on their search. It seemed that their leader was about as interested in sleep as Maiev was, if the way he sat perfectly still and gazed off at the distant forest was any indication. Feeling the sudden weight of the silence, she heaved a loud sigh, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands. "Are you sure you should let those Druids sleep?" She blurted out, because she needed to say something, and it was the first thing that came to mind. "We have to leave in the morning, you know, and I'll not be delayed because they don't want to wake up."

The humor was not entirely lost on Malfurion, though his reply was little more than a faint twitching at the corner of his mouth. Then he was all serious again, glistening eyes scanning for even the faintest sign of movement. Just when Maiev thought she might ask him if everything was okay, he spoke up on his own. "It isn't like Tyrande to just disappear like this."

Maiev resisted the urge to scowl at the mere mention of the name, just as she resisted the urge to ask how he could possibly know what it was or was not like Tyrande to do, when he had spent almost his entire life in the Emerald Dream. Still, it wasn't really her place to comment on their relationship, and she wasn't looking to start a fight with the elder elf, not when she so desperately needed his help if she ever wished to see the end of this mission. Instead, she pushed a hand through her pastel hair and stared off idly at the ocean before them. "I'm sure she's alright," she muttered. "She probably just...needed to calm down or something."

Malfurion only shrugged at that. But any reply he might have thought up would have been wasted, because a moment later there came the soft sound of quietly approaching footsteps, and then Tyrande was appearing before them. Her cheeks were flushed and her gaze was distance, her hands trembling as they smoothed out her robes. She flashed a small smile, painfully forced, and lowered herself to sit at Malfurion's side. His arm moved instantly to encircle her waist, pulling her in closer against her side, and Maiev watched curiously as she leaned into his touch, where she might have once shied away. If she hadn't known better, she might have thought that her words had actually made some kind of impact upon the priestess.

"Tyrande," he said softly. "I was starting to worry."

"I did not mean to cause alarm," she answered in a far away tone, bowing her head as she did. When she lifted it once more, it was Maiev that her gaze settled upon, boring into her. "I found Illidan," she said then, her voice quivering a little as she did.

Instantly, Malfurion tensed up at her side. "Are you alright?" He urged, his tone becoming frantic. "Did he hurt you?"

Tyrande shook her head quickly. "No," she lied, thankful that her husband couldn't sense the deceit in her voice. Swallowing hard, she held the Warden's gaze all the while, this silent, unspoken conversation being held between them, even if they weren't fully aware of it. Because in spite of all of their differences, the two of them would always share this one thing, this one understanding of just how horrible it was to love Illidan Stormrage. They would always be bound in their misery of losing him. And after her accidental meeting with him that night, Tyrande could see now that there was nothing left in him to save. There was nothing left that had not been corrupted in some way. And so loathing Maiev for wanting him, for wanting to end him, seemed pointless now. Maiev had no interest in destroying Illidan; he had done that to himself. Maiev was only looking to destroy the demon that he had become.

"No," she repeated again, this time more firmly. "But I see now that Illidan is beyond any hope of salvation. I had thought…" Her voice lodging in her throat, she closed her eyes and sucky in a shaky, greedy breath, letting it out slowly through parted lips. When her eyelids fluttered open again, it was to see both Malfurion and Maiev watching her carefully, wordlessly telling her to go on. "I had thought that perhaps there might still be a way to save him. To...undo whatever curse has fallen upon me. But I know now that such a thing cannot be done. That...he...it isn't Illidan anymore."

Maiev let out a breath she hadn't even realized she was holding. For a single moment, in spite of everything, years and years of blind hatred she had been carrying in her heart for the other woman, she felt a pang of sympathy for her. She felt sorry for her, and for the pain in her eyes as she realized what Maiev had known all along, that Illidan was a lost cause. She felt sorry, and she sympathized, because in that moment she wasn't even looking at Tyrande Whisperwind- she was looking at herself. She was looking at the pitifully, tragically hopeful girl that she had locked inside herself so long ago. There was an understanding between them now, and although it may not have been enough to erase thousands of years of resentment, it was enough to make them understand that here and now, there were bigger things going on, and that carrying on and fighting each other over a man that didn't even exist now was pointless.

After a seemingly endless moment, Maiev gave a short, single nod. No words, no apologies, nothing but a slight dip of her chin. Somehow, that was enough.

Turning away then, she drew her emerald cloak tightly around herself, trying to block out the chill that has suddenly settled in upon her. "Very well," she murmured. "At dawn, we leave. And we find him, and we put an end to this."

...

They searched every inch of the island. The Watchers, Sentinels and Druids broke apart and scoured the entire place in search of Illidan and the naga, only to trudge back to the camp in defeat. With a deadly glare on her face, Maiev listened over and over in disappointment as they told her that he had somehow managed to disappear quite literally overnight.

It was some time into the day when one of the Druids returned, shifting gracefully from the form of a bird back into his elven body as he came before the Warden. "Mistress Shadowsong," he said hurriedly. "We spotted a ship a ways off the coast, due east. Surrounded by naga."

She whirled around to face him fully, clenching her hands into fists at her sides, narrowing her silvery eyes. Illidan had managed to escape, then. She'd had him cornered, had him trapped, and now he was gone again. A fiery rage moved through her, but there was something safe and familiar about the way that it burned, because for a long time, this was all she had known. It almost frightened her to think of what might happen when she had finally gotten her retribution and the fire flickered out once and for all.

Finally, she regarded the Druid. "Alert Shan'do Stormrage and the others, then," she ordered. "We mustn't let him get too far ahead."

The unlikely group worked fast, for they knew that time was incredibly valuable if they wished to put an end to whatever devious scheme Illidan had in the works. Every so often when she closed her eyes, she could see how he had looked in the emerald glow of the Eye of Sargeras, and she could hear his voice, low and deadly, telling her that soon he could destroy all of his enemies once and for all. She'd thought about that moment many times through the night, tried to piece together his insanity into something that made sense.

Whatever it was that he was planning, one thing was certain- she needed to stop him before he managed to succeed.

By the time they reached land again, Maiev would have been content never to see the ocean again. She'd been sick to her stomach from the moment they departed, some combination of discomfort from being tossed about the ship and the ceaseless anxiety that came with her desperate longing. She was the first one to step onto land, closing her eyes and breathing in the thick, salty air as she tried to become familiar once again with the steady, solid ground.

Some time later, when she had finally managed to stop feeling like she might faint at any given moment, the high priestess fell into place beside her. "What is this place?" She asked, her gaze scanning the area before them. The trees were towering and thick, creating a dark shadow that fell over them and blotted out the light. There was a faint mist that seemed to cling to the very air around them, and the ground was blackened and decayed. It filled Tyrande with a great pain to see a land so desecrated and befouled as this one had been, just as her own home had been in the days that had followed the great Sundering. But the world had long since healed itself from that devastation. Whatever had caused this was something different, but something no less tainted, corrupted and evil.

If she had thought herself to be distressed by the sight before her, it was nothing in comparison to the ache that Malfurion felt within his own heart. Being a Druid gave him a deep connection to all of nature, to the very earth, and so the death that had been brought upon these forests resonated within him. He could all but hear the spirits of the woods crying out in his mind, pleading for healing. Tyrande stole a sidelong glance at her husband, saw the raw agony in his eyes, and almost without realizing it reached out to lace their fingers together.

"This is...Lordaeron," Malfurion murmured quietly, slowly and unsurely, closing his eyes and focusing on the residual energy in the air around him. He could feel it there, pulsating. Weakened, but still there.

The name seemed vaguely familiar to Tyrande, who knit her brows and thought on it for a moment. "Isn't that where the Proudmoore girl was from?" She said then, recalling briefly the heartbreakingly young face of the little blonde mage girl that had offered her aid to them when Archimonde had sought to bring destruction to them and the Well and all of the world. Though she had been reluctant to accept aid from outsiders at first, Tyrande had found that the alliance with the orcs and humans that had come to their side had proven to be what saved them after all.

Malfurion nodded slowly. "These forests have suffered grievously," he told the others. "I think I shall go and commune with the land, see if I might be able to find some way to help."

Maiev knitted her brows together slightly, clearly unconvinced by his words, but she knew better than to question the methods of Druids. Instead, she gave a short nod, glancing sideways at Tyrande. "We will scout this area, then," she responded. "See if we can pick up any trail Illidan may have left behind."

Malfurion took his leave then, disappearing into the shadows and fog. Once he had vanished from sight, the priestess turned to the others, ordering them to secure the ships and set up a base. Maiev made her way to the Watchers, who had moved to stand away from the others, isolated and closed off as ever.

"Orders, Warden?" Cordana asked, straightening up and daring to meet Maiev's stare. She had been painfully silent in the time following Naisha's death, and there was a defiant gleam in her gaze that left the elder elf feeling uncomfortable. She couldn't have any disorder in her group, not when there were so few left and they were so close to finishing what they had started. If Cordana was to blame her for the death of her former lieutenant, so be it, but she wouldn't have anyone challenging her authority. She had led the Watchers for ten thousand years, and she would continue to do so until she drew her last breath. It was her sole purpose now. It was all she had left.

"Split up," she said finally. "Half of you scout the south, and the others scout the east. The High Priestess and I will head north and see what we discover."

Cordana gave a slight scoff. "How can you stand to be near her, knowing what she did to the others in the Barrow?"

Maiev shot her a warning glance. "Tyrande is aware of her transgressions," she answered firmly. She recalled clearly the way the navy haired woman had looked when she had returned to their camp, the pain in her eyes when she had finally come to accept that whatever it was about Illidan she had loved, it was no longer there. Yes, she was quite sure that Tyrande understood now her faults, her failures, and her misplaced trust. She was sure that the priestess felt completely the pain of her guilt. "Besides," she added then. "She came to our aid when we needed help."

"I don't think that it was us she was coming for," Cordana muttered.

To that, Maiev had nothing more to say. "Just start scouting," she growled out quickly. "We've wasted enough time as it is."

Tyrande and Maiev were mostly silent as they moved through the woods, scanning each area for any sign that Illidan and his followers had been there before them. There was a heavy, uncomfortable sort of silence that settled in around them, a tension between them that was palpable. But it wasn't as if they had any common ground upon which they might make a conversation. Even in the distant days when Maiev had been studying to join the Sisterhood of Elune, days that now seemed almost entirely forgotten to her, like the faded memory of a dream, they had never really seen eye to eye.

Instead, Maiev threw herself entirely into the hunt, the only thing she knew how to do now. Tyrande seemed only half as interested as her; mostly, she floated gracefully behind her, lost to her own thoughts, and Maiev couldn't be bothered to pay attention to her.

It was some time later, when the sun had made its way across the sky and the darkness of the destroyed forests somehow grew darker still, that Maiev heard the frightening sounds of rustling branches and snapping twigs. She halted immediately, reaching over her shoulder to free the umbra crescent, straightening up as she glanced in every direction.

"What was that?" Tyrande whispered, closing in beside her.

Maiev said nothing, just kept on gazing into the shadows in the hopes that they might form some coherent shape. But when they did, she found herself wishing they hadn't, which was all that she had time to think before a group of undead were descending upon them from all sides. Maiev had but a few brief seconds to process the shambling forms of skeletons coming towards her before she had lunged into battle, every thought flickering out as her focus was rerouted to the arcing swings that sliced through the horrendous creatures. Tyrande danced away from her side, out of the way of both the attacks of the Warden and those of the undead, staggering back towards the trees. With a prayer upon her lips and the burning light of her Goddess at her fingertips, she released a brilliant blaze of divine energy into the mass.

Just when they thought they might have made some progress, more would come barreling towards them, and soon both were left weakened and exhausted from the seemingly endless battle. Maiev spun around, felt her blade collide with another skeleton, heard the sickeningly loud crack of bones under steel. But the sound of the fight was drowned out by a sudden, loud shout that rose over the echoing chaos, just a single word that she heard clearly- "Fireball!"

Before she so much as had time to glance over her shoulder, Maiev was being shoved to the ground as a searing hot blast of fire moved past her and sent the last of the undead up in flames. Losing her footing as she was caught off guard, he collapsed with a heavy weight upon her and a tangled mess of golden hair falling into her face. As she tried to regain the breath that had been knocked right from her lungs, the figure lifted their head, grinning down at her. "My apologies," he drawled, although his tone was anything but sympathetic.

A deep glare etched itself into her features. "Get off me," she hissed through gritted teeth, giving him an abrupt shove that sent him rolling into the dirt.

The blonde chuckled as he pushed himself into a sitting position and tucked his hair back behind his ears. "That's not a command I hear very often."

Before Maiev could spit out whatever biting remark had been forming on her tongue, a second figure blinked into appearance from thin air, a lithe dark haired man that quickly reached out a hand towards the blonde. "Are you alright?" He asked hurriedly, frantically, as he pulled the other man up to his feet.

The blonde rolled his eyes. "Fine, fine, Rommath," he retorted, but the words were laced with a definitive underlying affection. Working quickly to dust off his deep crimson robes, he turned back towards the night elf, offering her assistance, which she promptly ignored and opted instead to push herself up on her own.

Tyrande rushed to her side, panting slightly, obviously worn from the sheer efforts of their fighting. "Is everyone okay?" She asked, her eyes moving past Maiev and eyeing the others with trepidation. Only when they had all nodded in turn did she let out a short breath, her gaze settling on the blonde. He was undeniably handsome, slender and graceful, tanned skin and elongated ears, and blue eyes. "Thank you," she told him with a slight bow of the head. "We may not have made it without your help."

Maiev resisted the urge to roll her eyes, settling instead to cross her arms tightly over her chest. "Yes," she said sharply. "We are always so eager to welcome the aid of mages. It's worked out so well for us in the past."

The priestess chose to ignore her unnecessary commentary from the Warden. "My name is Tyrande Whisperwind," she introduced. "High Priestess of the Sisterhood of Elune and leader of the Kaldorei." She hesitated for a few seconds before shooting a sidelong glare at the other woman to her right.

Maiev gave a drawn-out sigh, unfolding her arms and dropping them at her sides. "Warden Maiev Shadowsong, commander of the Watchers," she muttered lowly.

The blonde eyed them each in turn, his gaze straying over their bodies and, in Maiev's opinion at least, lingering far longer than necessary, a lazy smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "A pleasure, certainly," he replied. "My name is Kael'thas Sunstrider, Prince of Quel'thalas. Call me Kael."