"Welp, this place sure is cheerful," Bitsie said as she dismounted.
"Better than Duskwood," Braelyn and Odariah said in unison, looking at each other in surprise, before bursting into laughter. It was true, though. While Darkshore was dark and gloomy, wedged between mountains and the Veiled Sea, it was at least possible to tell night from day. Duskwood was a land of perpetual midnight and brooding forests full of ever watchful eyes.
Of course, Duskwood had one advantage over the small Night Elf country; it had not been torn apart by the rage of the Cataclysm. As soon as they'd arrived in Lor'danel a week previously, they'd seen just how bad the damage had been. The village of Auberdine had been destroyed, and everywhere they went the very earth beneath their feet had been torn open, angry elementals pouring out to further torment the land and its inhabitants. The four friends had spent a few days easing what suffering they could, before being sent south, to the Grove of the Ancients.
Brealyn wiped a hand over her tired eyes. She hated flying, never feeling safe being so far off the ground while her stomach churned with queasiness. She'd also been terrified of falling off due to her exhaustion; she had not slept more than three hours at a time since the battle at Warsong Gulch. Every time she drifted off, she relived the moment the Tauren warrior had killed himself with her hand.
Just thinking about it caused Braelyn to suck in a quick, sharp breath. Her stomach protested, and she thought she would be sick. "It is all right, Braelyn," Andorien said, rubbing her back reassuringly. "You will be safe here, look," he added, pointing to an area behind her back.
It was beautiful.
As silent and unmovable as the trees they resembled, the Ancients of Darkshore stood nestled among the white marble ruins of what could have been a temple. They were wreathed in vibrant shades of green and purple, the grass at their feet unbelievably lush. With them were a handful of Night Elves, who welcomed Odariah and Bitsie with warm smiles and gentle voices.
"This place is amazing," Braelyn whispered, reaching out to catch an emerald coloured leaf as it almost danced its way to the ground.
"It is," Andorien agreed with a smile. "This place is the most peaceful I've been to in Darkshore."
Braelyn smiled at the druid. "Then for your sake I hope we can stay a while."
"And for yours."
Sleeping at the Grove felt like being cradled by Azeroth itself. As there was no inn at the Grove, no warm beds to sink into at the end of a long day, they had to sleep outside on the ground. But it did not matter. The grass of the Grove was so soft that not even Bitsie complained about having to sleep rough, and as it was slipping into Summer, the weather was comfortably warm. Above their heads, the stars shone brighter than any candle.
Yet Braelyn was still unable to sleep. She sat quietly on a moss-covered chunk of marble, petting Growly absent-mindedly as she stared into the embers of the camp cooking fire. In the distance she could hear Giggle hoot with delight as she soared the darkness. Behind her, Braelyn heard an odd sound, the sound old trees make when they're being blown about in high winds. A kind of creaking groan. The sound was reassuring; it reminded her of the nights she'd spent camping out in Elwynn Forest with her father, back when she was still allowed to be a little girl. Back before she grew up and was expected to be a great Hero of the Alliance.
Oh, how she missed those days.
"You have a troubled mind, little human," Ornu, the Ancient of Lore said. "Several times have I heard you call out, your cries piercing the darkness." The ground rumbled as he moved near where Braelyn was sitting. Growly opened an eye, and, seeing who it was that made the disturbance, got to his paws, and rubbed against the Ancient's trunk. Onu laughed. "You have loyal pets, hunter. This one is very affectionate, and the little owl sleeps in my branches, chirping to me in her sleep."
"They're the best," Braelyn agreed. "I couldn't survive without them."
"You are stronger than you think, young one." He rumbled again, this time sounding sad, when Braelyn merely shrugged her shoulder as if to say 'meh'. "What torments you so?"
Braelyn hesitated. She had not shared the extent of her insomnia with anyone, not even Odariah, though they could tell from the bags under eyes that she was not as well as she said she was. But before she realised it, the story of what had happened to her and her friends since they'd left Stormwind, burst from her lips in deluge of words. Onu did not interrupt her, just stood silent and listened. When she finished speaking, Onu made a comforting rumble from deep in his body.
"Mortals are such destructive things, even my beloved guardians," he said, looking towards the sleeping forms of the Night Elves. "I cannot judge your actions or the actions of that Tauren warrior, I was not there, but I do know that you must not let it consume you. You have a young soul, a gentle soul, it must be given time to grow."
"So much is happening," Braelyn cried, "so much is changing, and I don't know what I'm supposed to do. It's too much, too much!" She covered her mouth with her hand in order to stifle the panicked scream that was fighting to get loose. "What am I doing? What am I to do?"
"In my experience, the only thing you can do is to wait out the storm as best you can," Onu said, pausing as Braelyn sniffled loudly and dug a hanky out of her pocket. "So often we feel the wind lashing our branches, and the water tearing at our roots, and think that the storm is destroying us. Yet the storms pass, and, although we are battered and our leaves are torn from us, we are still standing, and new leaves grow in time. To survive, we plant roots deep in the ground, and learn to bend with the wind, not stand rigid against it. It is then we realise that the storm was not destroying us, it was helping us grow."
Braelyn was silent, before letting out a sigh. "But even the mightiest of trees can fall, if weakened."
"All trees fall eventually, little one, in the natural order of things."
"I don't think this tree is strong enough to grow much taller,' Braelyn whispered, gesturing to herself.
"But how do you know how strong you are, if you do not let your strength be tested?" He saw Braelyn begin to protest. "One strong wind does not a storm make."
With that the Ancient began plodding slowly back to the sides of his brethren, effectively ending the conversation. All Braelyn could do was stretch out on the grass next to Growly, and pray for a dreamless sleep.
She slept like the dead until well past dawn.
The next morning Braelyn woke up feeling better than she had in weeks, and even though she could tell from all the noise that her friends were already up and ready to go, she gave herself the luxury of a little sleep in. The fact that Bisie and/or Odariah were not pouring water in her ears in an attempt to get her out of bed, told Braelyn that she must have been looking worse than she thought.
As she was drinking some strange herbal tisane of the Elves for breakfast, she decided to ask Onu if he needed help with anything. It would be her way of saying 'thankyou' for his kind advice the night before.
"Onu," she said, slapping Bitsie's hand as the gnome attempted to steal Braelyn's apple, "I really enjoyed our conversation last night. Is their any way I could help you in return? Perhaps run some messages? Collect a hundred corrupted elderberries? Investigate some creepy old ruins and lay some tortured spirits to rest?"
"It is good to see you in such high spirits, young one," the Ancient said, and Braelyn swore she could hear laughter in his rumbly voice. "I do indeed require your assistance. But first you must sit and enjoy the morning with your friends. I will see you take delight in their company before sending you off to deal with the darkness in this world."
Before Braelyn could compose a suitable response, Growly surprised them all by grabbing Bitsie's collar in his mouth and running around the Grove. Braelyn erupted into laughter at the sight of her friend's little legs kicking helplessly in the air as her pet gamboled about. The rogue let out a high-pitched squeal before swearing at the bear in every language she knew.
"Braelyyyyyyyyyyyn!"
"That is the creepiest looking thing I have ever seen," Odariah declared, staring at the group's destination, "and it's giving off some pretty awful energy." Andorien put his hand on her shoulder, and nodded his head.
Braelyn had been joking when she suggested going to investigate some creepy ruins, but judging by the sight that lay before her, she'd been right on the money. Only it wasn't so much a ruin, but a skeleton. The skeleton of some gigantic monster with a snail-shell like head, a trunk, and two long, long tusks.
"Hate to get on the bad side of whoever wielded that thing," Bitsie muttered, staring at the enormous adamantite glaive jutting out of the skeleton thing's skull. Her friends could only murmur in agreement.
"My people consider this a sacred place," Andorien said, awe-struck, "because only a God could have wielded a weapon of that size."
Onu had ask them to come to the Master's Glaive to investigate why Twilight's Hammer cultists were excavating the site. The skeleton, he said, was the body of an "old, old lord of the earth." Braelyn already knew that the cultists were trouble before they even arrived at the Glaive, because Twilight's Hammer were always up to no good, even without access to the bodies of Old Gods. Sneaking through the dig-site and spying on the cultists only confirmed her opinion.
The cultists called the skeleton Soggoth the Slitherer, and it used to be a minion of the Old Gods. They thought that if they removed the glaive from the skeleton's skull, the Slitherer would be brought back to life. Presumably to wreak havok and destroy the world, thereby making all the cultists' dreams come true. Braelyn and her companions had done their best to thin the Twilight's Hammer numbers, but there were just too many of them for such a small group to deal with on their own. The Silverwing Sentinels would have to clear the rest out.
"Listen," Braelyn whispered, "I think we've done all we can here. Let me just lay down a few traps, and we''ll head back the Grove."
"Best. Idea. Ever," Bitsie said. "This place gives me the heebie-jeebies."
Braelyn never carried very many traps with her as they were expensive, and took up a lot of space in her packs. As a result, it only took her a few minutes to set them out, being extra careful not to touch the poisonous barbs attached to them. As she carefully backed away, she heard footsteps approaching. She looked up at her friends in alarm. Bitsie immediately stealthed, while Odariah went for her staff. Braelyn grabbed her bow, quickly stringing an arrow, and searching for her mark. She noticed that Andorien had taken a place by his girlfriend's side. She nodded at him and moved back, gesturing for them to do the same. If whoever was approaching wanted to harm them, they'd have to make their way through a barrage of ranged damage, and Braelyn's traps, all while dodging Growly and Bitsie.
As the footsteps got louder, Braelyn felt the temperature around her plummet. Goosebumps formed along her skin, even beneath the new leather armor she'd bought in Lor'danel. A cold like that could only mean that a Death Knight was about. Braelyn was troubled; even if the death knight was Alliance or Ebon Blade, it was no guarantee that he'd be friendly. Even free from the Lich King's control, they seemed to have their own agenda. Braelyn didn't hate the death knights, but she couldn't quite bring herself to trust them either.
The death knight was a Blood Elf, and the blood-red tabard of the Horde was stretched tight across his imposing plate armor. By his side was an orc woman, a warrior by the look of her, and a goblin mage. They stopped as soon as they saw Braelyn and the others. In a matter of seconds, they too were armed, the Orc muttering something under breath. Probably an insult about my mother, Braelyn thought. She saw Odariah about to switch into her shadow form, and hissed at her to stop.
"Do you speak Common?" she asked the death knight, who looked to be the leader of the Horde group.
"I do," he replied in that freaky dual-toned voice that all death knights have. Braelyn made a show of lowering her bow, just a little, which caused the Blood Elf to lift a long, elegant eyebrow in surprise.
"Braelyn!" Odariah hissed. "What are you doing?" Braelyn ignored her, keeping her eye on the Elf in front of her. A hunter should never take her eyes off her mark. Ever.
"Behind us are a group of people who do not care about factions or race. They care only for the total annihilation of all life on Azeroth. Now, you can put aside any prejudices you may have about the Alliance, and help us to annihilate them, or you can let us pass unhindered, so that we may alert the authorities. We do want to waste time fighting you."
The death knight stared at her for a few moments before laughing. Braelyn shivered. Even though the elf seemed genuinely amused, it still sounded cold and harsh. "It has been a long time since I have met such a naive soul," he said, cruel lips curling up in a smirk. "Do not fret, Sweetheart, we will take care of the big, bad cultists, but, as for you, I'm loath to say goodbye without a proper introduction first."
He raised his hand, as if holding it out for Braelyn to take, but before she could do anything, Odariah hit him with a mind blast. The death knight snarled as he staggered backwards, but quickly regained his composure. He drew his runed greatsword. Braelyn quickly raised her bow and used a binding arrow to prevent the warrior from charging Odariah and Andorien. The mage had summoned an elemental to aid him, but it flickered out of existence as the mage howled and slumped to the ground, blood pouring out of two nasty wounds in his back.
"That'll teach ya for threatening my friends!' Bitsie said as she flipped backwards, landing in front of Andorien. Taking advantage of the Horde's surprise, Braelyn let out a sharp whistle. With a screech, Giggle came racing down out of the sky and began clawing at the Orcs face. She felt a brief flash of triumph, but it was cut short by an agonised shriek that suddenly faded into a strange, choking sound.
"Bitsie!" Braelyn screamed as the gnome was hoisted into the air, her legs jerking desperately as she tried to pry the purple ring of energy from her neck. Her face was getting redder, while her lips began to turn blue. "Let her go!"
But the death knight did not let the rogue go. Instead, he flicked his wrist, causing Bitsie to fly through the air to the blood elf's hand, which he wrapped around the rogue's throat. A pair of bright blue eyes turned to Braelyn, mocking her and Andorien as the Druid began to cast some heals on the Gnome. His gaze held her in its sway, so powerfully that Braelyn barely heard Giggle scream as the Orc slammed the owl away with her shield. She saw the man raise his sword, a smirk playing across his face.
"So typical of Alliance hypocrites," he said. "Your invitation is declined."
He then ran Bitsie through.
Screaming.
Braelyn was screaming as she saw her friend's fragile little body jerk before it fell from the death knight's blade in a river of blood. Odariah was screaming, too, but she was screaming obscenities as she mind flayed the orc warrior. Andorien was focused only on Bitsie, trying to force life back where it had once been.
But it was no use. The death knight's blade had practically torn their beloved friend in two.
"How could you?!" Braelyn howled, and began firing at the blood elf, starting with a serpent sting. With a growl of rage her bear charged forward, tackling the warrior to her knees and clamping his jaw around her neck. Braelyn's shot went wide, and it took all her effort to get another arrow ready to go. By then, the death knight had begun closing to mêlée range, making it harder for her to find the chinks in his armor. Odariah cast a shield around Braelyn as the hunter began to back-up.
The was a sudden snap as Andorien accidentally set off one of Braelyn's traps. He groaned as he was thrown backwards into a rock, head slamming against the hard surface. Odariah gasped as one of the poisonous darts pierced the skin just above the high neck of her robes. She sank to her knees as nausea swiftly incapacitated her. Braelyn felt a dart lodge in one of her leather gauntlets, but, thankfully, it did not go all the way through.
"It's just you and me now, Sweetheart," the death knight said, sauntering towards her.
"And him," Braelyn replied as Growly rammed the elf from behind, causing him to fall forward.
"Well, you know what they say about three being a crowd," he said, kicking out at the bear with his boot. Growly whined as he was kicked in the face, and sank down, paws over his head. Braelyn tore forward, trying to mend her pet as she did so, but she was suddenly hoisted into the air. Her hands went to her neck, where it felt like a band of ice was squeezing the life out of her. Her legs jerked, and tears of pain gathered in her eyes. She tried desperately to breathe, but no oxygen made it to her lungs.
She screamed silently as she was suddenly yanked backwards. She thought of Bitsie, and fear of suffering the same fate made her panic more, her whole body now thrashing within the cold embrace that held her. She barely even felt the pain of her hand breaking as it collided with a pauldron. "Shhhh," the death knight crooned, "stop struggling and I'll let you go."
But Braelyn did not believe him. He eased the death grip, allowing a small trickle of sweet air to flow into her lungs. "Now, if you're a good little hostage, I may even let your friends live," the honeyed voice continued.
Her eyes sought out the forms of her companions. She didn't want to leave them, didn't want to leave Bitsie's body here in this horrible place, but she couldn't bear the thought of losing them all. She tried to force her body to relax, but was suddenly dropped to the ground as ice shards began raining down from the sky. She felt one slam into her, and blood began to well around the icicle now lodged deeply in her thigh. She didn't have the energy to scream as her brain finally registered the pain.
Nor could she make the effort to be afraid as she saw three Twilight Cultists step out of the shadows.
AN - Wanda, I am so, so sorry.
Next chapter: Braelyn survives, but how? And Rommath finally, finally makes his appearance. Probably.