A Rogue's Diary

by KeRmIt-89

Grace Fulstorm's account as she becomes a rogue of the Alliance. The Lich King is here to destroy all of Azeroth, but who would expect one female rogue to catch his attention as well as The Alliance's...Now complete!

3. Aradar

Aradar

Book Two, Part One

I began my training in March, when the sun began to make appearances as well as the rain. The next morning I arrived on time. I was scaling the steps up to SI:7 when Zen met me at the top. His features were obvious for the first time, ever since I met him. His jaw was sharp, but it was balanced out by thin lips and eyes that seemed soft but contained intensity. His hair, obvious even in the nighttime darkness, was a distraction in the sun as his blonde hair seemed nearly silver. Even in his body language I read his sense of cunningness and fearlessness. Zen's green eyes remained on me as he smiled thinly. "Good morning."

"Good morning." Even as I said it I held back a yawn.

"Ready to meet your trainer?" he asked, turning toward the entrance. A figure sat inside near the fire, a blade in his hands as he sharpened it. "Aradar," Zen began, and the man in question turned to the two of us.

"Marvelous," he mentioned energetically. "My new student!" I smiled loosely, nervousness inhibiting a cheerful grin. "I suppose we can get started."

Zen nodded, then bowed slightly to me in farewell. "Good luck."

Aradar was older—his hairline was beginning to recede, but his grin seemed locked in place. It was strikingly odd to be considering him my rogue trainer—he was much more pleasant than Zen.

He took me to the library for our first lesson. "I have an assignment for you," he began as we paced through endless aisles of books and scrolls. "Your first assignment is to find as much information as you can on the rogue class. It's origin, style, founders—anything. You'll be presenting me with ten pages of parchment discussing what you've found, and I'd also like a presentation—just to be sure you were accumulating the information."

I tried not to look as shocked as I felt. "By when?" I asked.

"Nightfall." He winked, then walked nonchalantly out of the aisle and out of the building. When his presence disappeared, it gave my nerves time to process panic. My eyes scanned the thousands of sources, breath stuck in m lungs.

I wanted this. I wanted so badly to impress my instructor and do the best I possibly could. I inhaled, attempting to clear my thoughts.

And then I set off. I sifted through histories of humans, of Stormwind, and then of every other race. And I found nothing. Then I attempted a search for general guides on war—the classes, strategies, anything. The best I found as a snippet like this:

At times the people of Stormwind have made decisions to act preemptively with skilled soldiers capable of slipping through lines undetected. Following this step is the line of offensive, generally…

Hopelessly, I stopped reading there, but nonetheless held on to the book.

Noon arrived too quickly, and I still hadn't found much of anything past "Battalions sometimes find it necessary to hire people who have a knack for sneaking past enemies."

I found a few more key words here and there in my searching: infiltration, deception. Trickery. Invisibility. Each time I grew excited, but the source never proved to be viable.

Panic never escaped me. I felt rushed into a dead end. I couldn't screw this up. My first assignment and I still couldn't pull through. And it wasn't even a physical test! This should have been my strong point!

Eventually, I collapsed onto a chair, head falling onto the desk. I almost gave up. I nearly scaled every single aisle, every shelf, every title I could possibly fathom…

But I put some more thought into it. Rogues were cunning. Maybe the books were hidden—by the teacher or otherwise—but where?

I picked my heavy forehead off the wooden table. Did the library have a basement?

It made sense in my unstable mind. Basements were ominous. Dark. Mysterious. Perhaps I was meant to think like a rogue. I sprang up, immediately on the prowl as I scooped up my useless books for stairs leading down.

Amazingly, I found some. I practically flew down the spiral steps, nearly slipping over a displaced stone on the way. Without much success I tried to contain my excitement, because a feeble old man was wandering in the basement…but there were books! Two sections were placed along the wall. The elder man gave me a curious gaze as I approached the heart of the room.

My eyes quickly scanned numerous titles, and I gathered an idea of why these books were so distanced from the others.

"Murderous Up-rise: Scandals of the Century? The Holocaust of Happiness? Torture Used in Modern Interrogation…Why the Alliance Shall Fall…"

The volumes were scandalous, although not necessarily hidden. It would be awful to have a child stumble upon these.

My eyes landed on a larger novel. The spine read Tactical Warfare. It was worth a glance-over, I decided. I pulled out the thick book, and it was heavier than expected. Perplexed, I dragged it to the lone table, which looked dilapidated and wobbled as I set my discovery down. Why was a seemingly innocent book like this shunned to the isolation of the basement?

The pages were brittle. I flipped the first page, and was met with an image of a broken down bridge. Dead bodies were strewn about, disfigured and bloody. The title of the painting graced the bottom of the page.

I was horrified of the picture. I didn't want to continue reading, but I turned the page so the image would disappear.

Soon I discovered why the book was down there. It wasn't a source on tactical warfare, like if someone needed a better understanding on the subject. It was a documentary of different tactics the Alliance had used in the past, complete with gruesome graphics much like the first.

Rogues were a huge piece of such warfare—so why didn't the fact rise in this book? Why was this source just as useless as the rest?

At some point I grew so frustrated that I turned a page and ended up tearing it off its binding. Regrettably I set the leaflet into its proper spot, being sure to tuck the fragile piece in as snuggly as possible before setting the book into my hopeless pile.

More of nothing. This assignment was impossible.

Or maybe the way I had approached it was completely wrong. Did I miss some underlying message? Was my teacher expecting too much from me?

Or, I thought as my jaw clenched, maybe it only proved I'm not meant to be here. Not meant to be a rogue…

With less vigor, I continued searching. If I was correct, this was some twisted test I was being put through, and I had already failed. There was no chance of me finding any information (maybe because I couldn't think as a rogue). The end was unavoidable.

I set my few books on a table on the ground floor. The room was darkening; the sun was hidden on the opposite side of the library. It was dusk. And it was hopeless. I had mutilated any chance I had getting into the program. Perhaps I was meant to cook and clean my entire life. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but it just wasn't my style.

I wasn't born for a normal life. I realized that, even as I sat there aimlessly at the desk. Even as Aradar waltzed towards my stupor with that eerily cheerful grin of his.

"My student!" It made me wince. I sure was the ideal student after today, wasn't I? "I hope your presentation is set among the same degree of my amazing past students."

If I broke down crying, would he give me pity points?

Instead, I kept my eyes to the floor, ashamed. "There is no presentation. Or paper."

When my statement was met with silence, I forced a glance upwards. He was still grinning—it scared me. Was this the part where he says, "It's okay, all of my students failed and got kicked out of SI:7?"

"I see. Nothing at all?" he inquired.

"I found books!" I offered, holding them out as if it would absolve my failure.

"Well, let's see." He sat down to my right as I hurriedly broke open the first book I touched.

"W-well," I took a short breath, "this one discussed degrees of subtlety of warfare, but not one time did it mention the word rogue." I sighed. "None of them mention the word rogue."

His hand gripped the corner of the cover, pulling it off the other few books I salvaged. He glanced over the titles, then nodded curtly. "Good." I felt my eyebrow perk in question. "Better than most. What's this?" he asked, attempting to pull the book I had found in the basement toward him.

"Better?" I repeated. "I didn't even write anything…"

"Interesting. I've never seen this source before…" With actual curiosity he flipped through the delicate pages, then stopping as he arrived on the page I had angrily torn out prior. I was growing confusingly anxious. Didn't he understand I had failed? Getting an interesting source was worthless if I could find nothing else of use.

"A…Aradar…" Saying his name felt awkward on my lips, so I quickly uttered, "Sir." When gray eyes left the abused page, he seemed surprised. "I didn't complete the assignment."

Aradar smiled. "None of my students do. Some try plowing through a paper with no sources, but that's more disappointing than no paper at all. This is my first lesson, dear." His eyes twinkled. "You're not meant to find any information on rogues, because there isn't any information on them."

I eyed him curiously. "Then…the lesson was meant to…?"

"Simply introduce you to the style of our class. There's no information on rogues because our class is secretive. It's a subtlety class, and it can't be traced in lifeless pages." He leaned in. "We're that good," he whispered with a wink.

"So…I'm not in trouble?" I asked carefully.

"Far from it. It seems like you really put forth an effort trying to figure out the assignment. Very promising. And this book—where'd you find it?"

The book on tactical warfare remained near Aradar, the torn page within his grip. "The basement," I answered, chuckling. "Sounds dumb, but I tried thinking as a rogue. Distant, dark. The basement was isolated. I figured it was my best guess."

"Clever." He furled the thin parchment in his hand, torn edge beginning to fringe. "This page is interesting." I peered over the page. It looked somewhat familiar. "Seems someone donated this book, because there's notes written in the margins…" His finger grazed over ink that had been forced into the margins of the page. Perhaps a paladin of sorts. ..many of these notes are based on the Light and its power."

We went to his quarters, which would be my new home, after that. Everything was settling in smoothly.

It was only the third day when my first confrontation occurred. Aradar had to run an errand through SI:7, and took me along before the beginning of our training. I waited near the fireplace, observing the knickknacks lining the hearth, as he made his way upstairs.

I was minding my own business. I was. A boy, perhaps a bit older than me, approached me with a smug look that emanated arrogance. "Hey," he began loudly. "My friends over there wanna know if you're training to be a rogue."

I glanced over at the 'friends.' Three other boys stood in a corner, eyeing me knowingly. Sighing, I then settled my gaze on the boy before me. "Yes," I answered bluntly.

The boy cursed, the group behind him bursting into hoots. I restrained the urge to gag at the display. "You owe all of us!" I heard out of the cheers.

I didn't really ask for an explanation, but the leader of the pack turned to me and offered it anyway. "I made a bet. I didn't believe they could let in a girl like you into SI:7. Apparently they've lowered the standards."

Grinning in disbelief, I crossed my arms in interest. "Really? Because I didn't think SI:7 allowed half-wits like you and your buddies in, either."

He laughed sarcastically, then leering at me as he closed in. "I could break you in half, girl."

"Try me." I opened my arms, daring him to move. He glared, seemingly ready to pounce, when Aradar arrived. Upon seeing our predicament, he cleared his throat loudly.

"What's going on here, Grace?" he asked, hands up in a peace offering.

"We're just having a civilized conversation," the boy answered. "See you later, Grace." I let my glare follow him back to his little group, even as Aradar escorted me out of SI:7.

"Something tells me that conversation was far from civilized," Aradar finally muttered.

"He thinks that because I'm a girl I shouldn't be a rogue," I filled him in with. "And I'm betting that's how most of them feel."

"Hey," he turned toward me, hands on my shoulders so I'd halt my pace. "Don't get discouraged. We're going to fix that attitude of theirs."

The first weeks of training with Aradar are smelted memories. It was a lot of basics. Rarely did we include any clip of physical combat in my training.

In fact, if I remember correctly, the entire first week, I ran. Jumped. Sprinted. Stretched. It was obviously meant to build up my strength, agility, stamina—but that didn't make the days less painstaking.

One day, after running for nearly an hour around the canals, I collapsed in exhaustion. My lungs shrieked for air, hands grasping cobblestones below me as if it'd dig up much-needed air. My leg muscles strained, a burn shot up the hamstrings.

Aradar was a funny character. He placed his hand on my back, and I felt ashamed for showing a sign of weakness.

Relentless. I had to be relentless. Had to become relentless.

It hurt to move, but I did so anyway. With difficultly I pulled myself up, Aradar following. Breath escaped my lungs in short huffs.

"I push you hard," Aradar began, a hand on my shoulder, "because you have amazing potential. Power starts with basic mechanics. You're a girl," I snorted, "but you'll have the perseverance of a bull. You will be a contender to the men in this sector. Brute strength won't get someone anywhere if they lack endurance or decisiveness. You'll have it all."

Nodding, I tried concentrating on his words and my consciousness.

I could do it. I could outwit.

He became a fatherly figure. He pushed me alright, and once I was capable of trotting the entire parameter of Stormwind a handful of times without shortness of breath did he sit me down.

"You're ready to learn the skills of a rogue," he announced. I smiled. "I have something to give you. One of the most important tools of a rogue."

I was expecting a beautiful dagger, sharp and ready for action. I threw open the brown sack he slid to me, only to find nameless pieces of metal, wire, and other tools. "What's this?"

"Thief's tools. Rogues are skilled in the subtle. It includes disarmament of traps, pick pocketing, and lock picking."

And thus, the first rogue skills I learned. I was able to unlock doors. Now, should I pick one of said locked doors, and a fleet of Undead charge me, I'd be screwed. But hey, at least I had the self-satisfaction of knowing I was able to pick that difficult lock holding such monsters at bay.

Surprisingly, lock picking took skill. It wasn't for the impatient. The adjustments had to be perfect if the lock was to pop open.

I stayed with Aradar in a small hut within Stormwind. It was small, but warm. The older man had a craze for fruit—there was always a bowl of fresh fruits set on his table.

We trained often, but every once in awhile I could take a break. I'd visit my mother as much as possible—near the beginning of my training it was often, but as I continued my visits grew scarce.

I loved visiting Dennis and Lucas. Dennis always made the day better. Even when his own body was soar and beaten, Dennis made sure my soreness was tended to first. Falling asleep in his arms was my best comfort—I felt wanted, accepted, even if I were to obliterate any hope of being a rogue, I could survive because Dennis told me so.

"It's okay if you're not the best. You will be," he announced.

My head was resting under his chin, and I had to cock my head to the side to see him. "How can you be so certain?" I asked curiously.

"I just am," he replied matter-of-factly. He tugged playfully at a piece of my bangs. "But don't plan on being an invincible rogue forever. We won't have time for the rest of our future!" he exclaimed dramatically.

I giggled. "I'll find time," I defended. "If I find time to see you now, I should be able to find time later as well."

"Good." His arms around me tightened. "Because I look forward to it too much."

My brother was growing stronger. Physically, he was built and highly muscular. Mentally, he was just as sturdy. Women were drawn to him—he never full-out admitted or boasted of such, but I caught the notions in his stories.

Meanwhile, I was finishing with the practice on thief's tools. Aradar announced that it was time to play a game. Despite Aradar's playful manner, I still grew leery. "A game?" I asked, unsure.

"Yes. The game: I have to find you." It was nighttime, and I knew immediately he was to train me on subtlety next. "No sanctuaries, but you must remain in Stormwind. I'll be chivalrous and lend you two minutes to get ahead. Go."

Withholding the urge to giggle, I set off. The last time I had played this was as a little girl. The idea seemed silly now.

Obviously, I had to stay in the darkness. It was a test of subtlety. I cocked my head to the side. Could the student really outwit the teacher?

Only one way to find out, I decided. But where to go?

I approached the choice logically, at first. Darkness. Had to hide where I could actually be hidden. But wouldn't he be expecting that from a new student? Could I hide somewhere more visible, and assume Aradar wouldn't look in such a place?"

I stopped near an alleyway, holding my breath. Or, maybe I as overanalyzing again. All I had to do was continue to move, and hope we didn't cross paths. Aradar would most likely stealth around as well, just to hike up the intensity a bit…

Consciously, I tried to remain subtle as I meddled through the city a bit. As I wandered, I felt my senses escalate into overdrive. I could hear conversations within inns, feel the temperature difference in and out of shadows. It was as if my mental state had dropped into an ocean, floating along but with heightened senses.

Maybe I had the capability to outdo my teacher after all.

I felt nearly invincible. A pair of young women, perhaps my age, giggled and scurried down the tunnel in night dresses. They didn't make any gesture signifying they saw me. I stood against the tunnel's cool wall, feet away, but the girls moved forward without a look my way.

Near the cathedral, I stopped to observe my surroundings. Aradar would skim every street, every alley. Perhaps roaming around our beginning area would be the safest place?

I remained in my stealth state as I moved towards the intended site, only to stop at a sudden noise coming form the adjacent alleyway. My eyebrows furrowed. Crying?

Quickly I arrived at the origin of the sound. I turned my head around the corner.

A young boy sat in the middle of a street, face hidden behind little knees. I watched him for a few moments, simply observing the boy. He seemed to be trying to stay silent, although his shoulders shook.

Finally I felt moved enough to step into the open. I pulled my hood off my head in an attempt to look less scary. Approaching the child, I noticed that he seemed to notice me as I crouched down to his level. He frowned, confused at my presence.

"Hello," I whispered, "I'm Grace."

"Hi," he croaked, hurriedly trying to wipe his eyes. "My name's Trent," he offered, voice still sore from crying.

"Can I ask you what's wrong?" I asked. "You're out in the middle of Stormwind all alone."

"My big brother left me here," he began. "He wanted to race but I tripped and fell and when I got up I was alone." His tears began again as I reacquainted him with the reasons behind his isolation.

"It's okay, Trent," I soothed. "Let's take you home. Do you remember where you live?"

He pouted, caught in thought. "Three houses from the bakery, with the red flowers and a candle in the window."

"Good, good," I encouraged. "Well, I know where the bakery is. Let's head over there, and you'll get more familiar with the surroundings."

The boy stood, eyes finally dry, and I turned to lead him home when Aradar's figure stood in the way. The challenge he had given me earlier had momentarily escaped my mind. His presence brought the idea forth again. "Well, that wasn't difficult."

"The boy needs my help," I began.

"I know," Aradar replied. "I put him there. It's my nephew." I paused, the child's hand still in mine.

Pursing my lips, the set-up hit me. "That was a trick to get me out of hiding…" I thought out loud.

"Precisely," Aradar answered.

"That was dirty," I commented with a scowl.

"Grace, you must be careful. The world is packed full of trickery. You gave away your position without a notion of thought."

"He needed my help!" I argued pointlessly. I was talking back to my teacher—was I crazy?

"And it was a trap."

"What if it wasn't?" I let go of the boys hand, hands flying to my hips in disbelief. "I couldn't just leave him there."

"When an instance such as this happens out there, your decision would cost an entire rank its position."

"I-" I lowered my head in defeat. "Sorry," I finally muttered. "It's my maternal instinct acting up. In the future I'll be more wary."

"It's not a mistake that defeats a human," Aradar mentioned. His nephew had approached his side, giving his uncle an affectionate squeeze. "It's a decision not to learn from it."

"I understand." Even though I still believed I had acted justly. But my teacher was right. I had acted without truly considering any scenarios that could happen.

"Now, I'd like you, Grace, to take Trent home. His mother is well aware of his whereabouts. While you do so, I shall hide, and it'll be your turn to find me. How does that sound?"

"Impossible," I answered honestly.

Aradar ruffled the child's hair before I escorted him home. His mother answered the door with a grin. "Grew impatient with finding you, did he?" she asked with a wink.

I grinned back at her. "Trent had me nervous for awhile. I take it this isn't the first time?"

"Students escort my son home when Aradar is hiding. That's usually because he's seeking reconciliation for his impatience."

Giggling, I managed a smile. "I'm glad I gave him a bit of a challenge."

"Bit of advice…" She leaned in a bit, taking her son in her arms. "He gets slightly…careless. You may be able to catch him. 'Bout time he took a sweet young lady under his wing."

"Well, thanks," I said, blushing slightly. "I have to go, though. He'll keep me out here all night if he could."

"Good luck," she bade. Nodding, I set off, leaving the third house from the bakery behind.

I had no idea where to look. There was no logic to this game. It was literally a shot in the dark. Where would Aradar think I wouldn't go?

I nearly chuckled. What a dumb question. If I knew the answer to that, then Aradar wouldn't consider it an option.

Best start skimming. Make my way to more familiar surroundings. Maybe his carelessness, with a mix of what I have coined "dis-logic," would be on my side.

I tried not to concentrate too hard. It would block my senses too much, and I couldn't afford to misinterpret important details.

Backtracking, I headed towards Aradar's small cottage. Circled around a bit. After quite a while of me wandering in the dark, I grew irritated. He was probably watching me, tracking me. Silently, I leaned against a wall near SI:7 as I fumed with irritation.

A pair of figures came pacing toward me. I considered slipping into the darkness, hidden, until I actually recognized one of them to be Zen. With a bit of relief I stepped into the moonlight.

He saw me with ease, and his raised eyebrow directed at me caused the other man beside him to stop chuckling and look at me, perplexed.

"Grace?" he began. The other man's eyes sized me up as I stepped forward a bit more.

"Zen."

He attempted to disguise a smile of amusement under a look of confusion. "Should I even ask what has you out and about at these hours?"

"One of Aradar's methods of teaching," I answered. "I'm supposed to seek him out." I looked over the pair, who wore their usual uniforms of dark. "And to what occasion can I thank for such a late tryst?" I asked playfully.

Zen shrugged nonchalantly. "Just a silly SI:7 meeting."

"In the middle of the night?"

"It's an important meeting," Zen mentioned with a stress in his words. Nodding, I tried to dismiss myself.

"Well, I should get to it," I announced with a slight nod of respect. They were my superiors, after all. And anything that made Zen quirk his eyebrow in befuddlement was any good a reason to act unnaturally graceful.

"Oh, and about Aradar…" Zen drew in, so close his mouth was inches from my neck. I tilted my head to try to stop the hairs on my neck from standing on end. "He tends to enjoy a little drink late at night…"

He pulled away, eyes locked on mine—the close gesture startled me, and his eyes didn't quell the feeling of unease. When he had returned to his place next to the other man, he winked.

Zen's buddy chuckled, eyes still on me. "Have a good night," Zen finally said, and the pair finally left towards SI:7.

For once, I was at a loss for words around Zen. What made me growl was the fact that he enjoyed doing that to me.

What a mysterious guy.

I couldn't complain though—if my assumptions were true, he had helped me.

I remember thinking to myself, trying to understand why Zen had helped. I couldn't quite understand, besides the fact that he had brought me into SI:7—a fallout on his recruit meant a fallout on him.

But it was a small glimpse of my training. Did my success matter at this point?

Either way, I couldn't really ignore his slight hint. Was my teacher really enjoying a round while I wandered around the streets?

I stepped into the inn, and could immediately hear the roars of entertainment erupting from the second floor.

Could've sworn that was Aradar's laugh. I climbed the stairs, and sure enough Aradar was seated at a table, other men surrounding him.

"Are you kidding? Jonathon wouldn't last a day in the mage quarters-"

I must have looked as awkward as I felt, because Aradar easily spotted me as I came off the steps. "Grace!"

I cocked a smile. "Of all places…the bar of the inn?" I asked.

"How'd you find me?"

"Uh…" I looked behind me, towards the stairs. "Actually, I wasn't even planning on looking here. I was walking by when I heard your laugh from outside the inn." Not the entire truth, but it wasn't I lie either.

"Did you?" He grinned. "I suppose I should be more subtle. I didn't expect you so early!"

"Neither did I…" I muttered, scratching my head.

"Well, you're here," he stated. "And I'm here…what do you say we hang around a bit and relax?"

I eyed him suspiciously. "This isn't going to turn into one of your lessons, is it?"

He held his hands up in defense. "I promise, no lessons underneath. Rogue's honor."

"Rogue's honor?" I repeated.

"Oh, Grace. Stop analyzing everything. Come enjoy the evening."

I laughed loudly. "Well, if the teacher tells me to, I must comply."

Nothing entirely significant happened, but I remember feeling at ease, if only for the moment. We were able to bond, and it made me more comfortable around Aradar.

My first time I held a dagger was after fifty-three days with my teacher. It was a training weapon—I could have figured that out without Aradar's explanation.

It was heavy. I remember holding it in my palm, thinking of the damage it was capable of. Weapons like this defend our city. They protect and disarm. But they've taken away lives. Of enemies, friends—countless lives.

I was accepting a power. Scary, but invigorating.

"We start with daggers," Aradar announced. I grasped the weapon in my right hand. "You're smaller. I believe you can deliver the most damage with daggers. You'll learn swords eventually, but I don't want you bogged down from the start."

Basic stances and moves. I wanted to learn, and learn as much as possible. But I was a bit of a perfectionist—and Aradar stressing technique didn't aid in my quest for perfection. "One wrong step, and you're at the mercy of our enemies," Aradar would chant incessantly.

At one point after such an incident, I sliced at Aradar venomously, and he had to hop back quickly. "What mercy?" I asked rhetorically.

Learning combat put more realism into my goals. Suddenly, it felt real. I was on the road to becoming a rogue.

I really had to try my best at every moment. I zoned into my training, and learned the basic combat skills so fast that Aradar was forced to train me with two daggers to keep me challenged.

Dual wielding. It was brutally difficult. I often grew irritated with how awkward my left hand acted. "The left dagger is for support!" Aradar comforted. "Don't feel obligated to use it. Use it on a needed basis!"

I was constantly sore. Visits to Lucas and Dennis were my therapy—and sometimes I could even bargain a backrub or two.

Then Dennis got his apprenticeship, and had to travel often for long periods of time. Lucas began his apprenticeship as well, only ten days after.

Which meant I was pretty much without them. I felt isolated. Training managed to keep me relatively busy, but it made my time off that much more lonely.

Somehow, I pushed myself. Had to accept responsibilities that came with becoming a rogue—any and all. Sacrifice, because countless people had already so in the hopes that someday our children won't have to.

Aradar himself would gape sometimes when I would manage to disarm him or out-think him. I would simply giggle, of course. After such a moment, about ten weeks after a had began combat training, he breathlessly patted my back.

"You're ready for the next step," he said.

I had trouble catching my own breath. "And what's that?"

"SI:7 trainee missions."

I grabbed a gulp of water as Aradar and I slumped beneath a tree. "Sounds dangerous," I commented.

"The apprentice begins missions on his or her own. I'm still your mentor, but I am here for developmental purposes. The missions shall teach you far more than I can lecture about."

"What if I get into trouble?" I asked. "Get caught?"

"Your first bunch of missions are petty, no need to worry," Aradar soothed. "With your degree of mastery in subtlety, you won't have a problem."

"So, how do I start?" I asked after a long pause. Aradar grinned.

The next morning, my mentor practically pushed me out of bed, forced me to dress properly, and dragged me down to SI:7.

He led me to a room upstairs. "Do I get to meet the big boss?" I whispered. I meant to sound genuinely enthused, but the absence of the sun at the early hour scalded the words into sarcasm.

"Just an officer." We got off the stairs, and immediately there was a kind of office. A dark haired, older man sat at the desk, rustling through a stack of paperwork. When Aradar approached him, he cocked a regal eyebrow. "Officer Jared," Aradar greeted.

"Aradar. Have you news?"

"My pupil is ready for her introductory missions."

The man pursed his lips in amusement, eyes landing on me. "She...has proficiency…?"

"In all three pillars. Very cunning, and a master of subtlety."

The officer paused, then shrugging, turned to a wall behind him. Scrolls rested in little cubby holes, on three levels. I noticed the scroll the man handed to Aradar was tied together with a green ribbon. "Good luck, then," he mentioned with a nod to me. I bowed in farewell.

Aradar scanned the notations within the scroll as we descended, then handed it to me. "Suit up. And don't, by any means, lose that paperwork."

I fumbled with the parchment as we left SI:7. "What is it?"

"Your first mission."

As we hustled to the armory Aradar explained further. "There's three levels of trainee missions: green, yellow, red. Green is the easy responsibilities, usually civil issues within nearby villages. Normally speaking, they only have a potential for danger. Yellow is moderate—there's notable danger and risk. Red is severe. Obviously they're the most dangerous and challenging."

I read of my first task. Details escape me now, but I remember very well the final sentence: Seek out the whereabouts of Marie Scarlett and retrieve her diary, unbeknownst to her.

Marie was the daughter of a corporal in Stormwind. Since said corporal was suspected to be part of a plot with the Defias brotherhood, SI:7 decided to investigate.

Apparently they were starting small and subtle. It was stressed in the scroll that should something go awry and leak to the outside world, I would be properly punished.

"You said the missions were petty!" I exclaimed at Aradar, who was currently fitting me with acceptable gear for my tasks.

"That warning is on every task. This class is secretive, and that includes our missions. No one is to know of our doings."

I don't talk about it, I get to keep my life.

The Scarlett family lived on the outskirts of Elwyn forest, east of Stormwind. I had pretty good details of their cottage's whereabouts because of the handy scroll, and I'd have to journey there alone as well.

Aradar gave me a chest piece, pants, and wrist guards to better protect me, but I was more nervous about the dangers of the journey than of the task ahead.

I could handle a thief or two along the road—but if a gang were to come across me, I was in trouble. I'd have to vanish and get away, but it was easier said than done in bright daylight.

Didn't matter—I was on my way, my small pack and daggers Aradar had lent me at my side. I certainly looked geared to be a rogue—I was a walking target for the evils lurking in the forest.

From my position on the trail, however, I saw no inconveniences. Perhaps I was being cynical about the people of Stormwind.

Aradar promised that the corporal wouldn't be home—he was within Stormwind, sitting in on an important meeting.

Marie was only thirteen. Old enough to understand Daddy's affiliations, and to live home without Mommy's constant watch. My ideal would be that no one would be home. I played out different scenarios in my head. I couldn't slip up—for my good was well as the Alliances.

I arrived around noon. Luckily the house was relatively isolated, with a tree line hugging the front of the rather large cottage. Taking advantage, I posted watch in the trees. And watched and listened. I definitely heard clatter within the house—sounded like two people.

I was too anxious to relax. Every detail mattered, every move was dire. I'm not sure how long I simply stayed there, listening and watching, my muscles achingly tense, when the cottage door finally slipped open with a pop. And older woman, basket hanging on her arm, was tying a shawl around her head. "I'll be back," she called behind her in irritation. "Just giving a few vegetables to Molly up the hill." She then turned resolutely back around, towards the house. "In fact, why don't you come along, Marie? You should thank her in person for that lovely dress she tailored for you."

A bit more of a pause, and then a grumbling teen emerged behind her mother. She must have said something negative, because the mother rolled her eyes as the pair continued up the mentioned hill.

I wouldn't have long. As soon as the pair was out of sight, I hurried to the door. Not surprisingly, it lurched open unlocked.

The girl's room was easily found, despite the length of the house. The room was a soft pink, but judging my the powder and blush on the vanity, little Marie was beginning to mature.

A bookshelf graced the wall across the laced bed, but I didn't bother looking there—what girl puts her diary amidst other books, next to classical philosophy and poetry…

Under the bed, under the pillow. Nope. I shook my head. Was I bound to searching for books my entire life?

She wouldn't have taken it with her would she? She wasn't clutching anything…

Carefully I lifted the mattress, grateful when my eyes were graced with the image of a small baby blue book. Hurriedly I put the diary (as it was dutifully titled) into my sack. I slipped out before anyone arrived there, and was again traveling, this time back to Stormwind.

I arrived at Aradar's front door around supper time. He answered my knock with glistening eyes. "Now what?" I asked, flashing the diary. He smiled.

"Return it and the scroll to Officer Jared."

And so I did. Promptly. He seemed un-phased as I placed the scroll and small book on his desk. He merely glanced up, registered who I was, and continued to finish a scribble on parchment before taking hold of the diary. "I'm sorry, but I don't have any other quests capable of clearing before dawn. Tomorrow we'll have another full stock."

I nodded, bowing before I returned to my shelter with Aradar. He was as excited as I was about the first task completion, and so I told him every detail I could remember.

My only disappointment was that I had no one else to share it with. Dennis, Lucas…both were traveling. Making their own experiences.

I fell asleep easily after dinner, but I was awakened abruptly by Aradar, who was in a panic. "Officer Jared has required your presence in his office immediately," he said, "and he's not happy."

Groggily, I sat up, attempting to peer through the curtains to discern how high the sun had risen. There was no light. "With me?" I asked, rubbing my eyes. I was in my night dress, hair tussled about, and I had offered to change, but Aradar was convinced that the matter was far too important to delay.

"He never seeks anyone out unless the situation is critical," Aradar acknowledged with fearful eyes.

We practically jogged to SI:7, under the cover of complete darkness. Dawn would soon arrive, it was so late. The hurried pace gave me no time to quell my nervousness. I was rushed into Officer Jared's office, where he was pacing in front of his desk, a candle illuminating his dark features. Three other assumed-to-be rogues stood alongside him.

None of them looked particularly happy. The stern looks on every face left me feeling guilty, and I hadn't even done anything. They didn't even acknowledge my obvious state of undress.

"Grace." Officer Jared didn't even bother with formalities. "Care to explain exactly what happened earlier on your first task as a studying rogue?"

I hesitated at the formality of the question, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as I attempted to catch a glimpse at my teacher. "I…I accomplished the mission, within jurisdiction of the instructions," I answered. "What is this…?"

"Corporal Scarlett arrived moments ago, announcing that his house had been ransacked." Officer Jared turned fully toward me, eyes glinting even in the scarce lighting. "That scroll gave you specific orders. Why has this simple mission of yours nearly vanquished what SI:7 has been working on for weeks?"

"I don't know what you're talking about!" I defended. "I left that house in the same condition I found it. Nothing was damaged, I can promise you."

I tried to keep my nerves from talking. Letting my mouth ramble on was not becoming.

"You were the only one left with this assignment," the officer added. "You recovered the diary, putting you there. What I want to know is why it was done! That is a deliberate attempt at treachery!"

"I didn't…do it," I stated, although it nearly came out in a hiss. "I have dedicated so much time into this program. Don't think me so stupid as to throw it away like that. I'm here because I want to defend the Alliance, not deface it."

"If you didn't do it, then who?" Officer Jared asked rhetorically. He lowered his voice. "The diary has actually given us some very valuable tips, and to that I am relieved. But our cover was nearly blown. If not you, then whom?" he repeated.

"Ask my teacher," I demanded. "I can account for my actions. Every single detail. I've told him as well. He's a judge of my character—Aradar can verify my innocence!"

All eyes turned to my mentor. His previous panic seemed to be quelled within him, as his eyes remained steady on the scene before him. When Officer Jared looked at Aradar expectedly, he grimaced and nodded. "I know my student well, Jared. And she has accounted every single action within the house. I will defend her innocence as well."

I smiled out of relief. Someone believed me.

Officer Jared gazed into my eyes, reading me the same way Zen liked to. Finally, he sighed. "I wish to believe you, Grace. I take pride in every student walking through these doors. But I must take precautionary measures in this case." He blinked, as if trying to block out the swarm of thoughts coming his way. "You're suspended from partaking in any more rogue assignments until further notice. We must investigate what has happened here, and if you are responsible," he paused, "then you're a very good liar."

"I can promise you, Officer," I began, bowing slightly, "this is no lie." I left out the fact that I was a horrible liar. Was that something you should admit to superiors?

"You're dismissed."

Exhaling, I closed my eyes, the verdict finally crashing down on me. Suspended? I did nothing wrong!

And believe me, I wouldn't lie to my own journal. What kind of person could do that to themselves? Walking around telling lies and being cruel, and then retelling it as otherwise? I am a rogue, yes, but I have human morals…

Morals that seemed to be in question. Aradar walked me home. My first instinct was to find Dennis, let him hold me. But he was nowhere close, so my second option came into play.

I buried myself under the covers of my bed, curled up. Feeling as insecure as my future. Aradar said nothing, but we had an understanding—he had faith in his student, and I knew I could count on him. It was the only thing that kept my tears at bay.