"Faith will make an excellent ranger someday," Sylvanas was saying. I was in my room, still unable to walk, but Sylvanas had been declared perfectly healthy by the priests the previous day. "She saved my life in the woods, because I had no chance to defend myself for those few seconds after I was thrown."
"But she probably distracted you in the first place."
I heard Sylvanas chuckling as Taegan's statement, "I'm not infallible, Captain, and I know this. I was caught off-guard by that giant spider, and so was Faith, but she, unlike me, was able to react accordingly. You ought to be proud of her, because if I could, I'd recommend her for the Academy immediately."
"But you won't," my older brother's voice sounded strange.
"No, I won't. But that's not because I think that she can't do it, I know she can. I won't because she's a much better mage than anybody has ever given her credit for. She's never had any formal training, and she was able to use that kind of magic in a crisis? A lot of people, even experienced mages, have frozen up in front of a giant spider, but your little sister kept her cool."
I heard her pacing a little, and my brothers murmuring something unintelligible, then the sound of a hand slamming down on a table.
"She's your sister. Is it so difficult for you to understand that she might actually be good at something? I could definitely use someone like her in the ranger corps, and she'd become a captain very quickly, I've no doubt about that, but she wouldn't be happy. Why? Because the two of you would treat her like an inferior instead of an equal. That and because she's doing this for all the wrong reasons."
It sounded as though Sylvanas had added that last sentence as an afterthought, and my heart leapt in my chest. She knows, I thought, panicked.
"All the wrong reasons?" asked Estelien. "What do you mean? I thought she wanted to emulate us?"
"She only wants people to believe in her. She wants people to think she can do something other than sit at home looking pretty and gathering dust. You're both accomplished rangers and she doesn't have anything."
"She can make potions and she knows more about herbs than anyone in the family," said Taegan.
"That's not enough!" cried Sylvanas, "And as long as none of you give her the respect she deserves, she'll try doing something to please you, whether it be something simple, or be something dangerous. I don't want her going into that part of the forest again on her own."
"She's not going to go looking for spiders, I promise you that," said Estelien. "I'm not trying to put her down, but she's always been terrified of them."
"I wouldn't have noticed that," said Sylvanas, sounding surprised. "Not with the way she reacted when it attacked." A few minutes later, she came into my room. She was wearing her uniform again, and I knew that meant she would be leaving that same day. The thought filled me with dread, and I could already feel my throat constricting as she approached. My eyes filled with unbidden tears, and I began to cry the moment she sat on my bed and touched my hand, "We'll be back soon," she said in a quiet voice.
"Not soon enough," I said, barely able to pronounce the words. "Please don't go…"
"Oh, Faith. It's not like I'm going to the ends of the earth."
I pulled myself together before I made a complete fool of myself, "That's true. I'm sorry, General, I'm not good at saying goodbye."
"This isn't goodbye, it's more of an 'I'll see you later'. Now I'm going to talk to your parents about sending you to Dalaran, because you could benefit from that more than you would from going to the Academy, though the Sunwell knows I could use someone like you." She smiled, spotting a picture on my nightstand, "I didn't know you had that."
It was a painting of her with her sisters Alleria and Vereesa and her brother Lirath, who had been killed during the Second War. Alleria had gone missing and was presumed dead on Draenor, an event I didn't like thinking about. I only had the picture because it was a beautiful likeness of Sylvanas. I had another picture that I carried around with me all the time, a smaller version that I'd painted myself and that looked so real that I could sometimes feel her presence emanating from it. "I've had it a while," I told her. "Do you want to take it with you?"
"No, I have several at home. Will you come to the door? We're about to leave."
She helped me limp to the living room, where my parents were saying goodbye to my brothers.
"You both be careful, all right? I don't want to hear that you were reckless and ended up in a box that we'll have to bury."
"We'll try not to die," joked Estelien. "Don't worry, Father, we'll be fine."
Taegan caught me in a hug, "You be careful, okay? I don't want you to be a ranger because I know how difficult it is, and I can't stand the thought of you in pain. I know you could do it, but it would take years and I'd rather know that you're comfortable rather than hurt." He kissed my cheek, "I love you."
"I love you too," I told him, tears spilling from my eyes. "Come home soon, okay? All of you."
Estelien rubbed my back as he hugged and kissed me, "We'll write when we can. Don't be reckless, and if you do end up in Dalaran, knock 'em dead. You'll be great, no matter what."
I knew Mother and Father would never send me to Dalaran, although maybe they'd consent to send me to Silvermoon for some formal training. "Thanks, Estelien," I told him. I looked at Sylvanas, who was waiting to say goodbye to me. I couldn't bear the thought of her leaving.
"I'll see you soon," she said, pulling me into her arms. The hug was different than any other we'd shared up until then. She didn't hug me as a friend, but as something else, and I closed my eyes, resting my head on her shoulder for a period too brief to be described. She kissed my forehead, "Take care."
"You too," I told her just as Ravenna came in with Santoran. The three of them said goodbye to everyone, and, too soon, we were alone. My parents helped me back into the house, and Ravenna stroked my hair as I cried.
"Faith… you… it can't happen…"
"I know that!" I cried. "Leave me alone, Ravenna, please. I don't want to talk about this."
It took me a few days to get used to not seeing Sylvanas. I hated it, but eventually, I managed, and my injury healed, allowing me to move around much more freely. As I'd known, my parents didn't send me to Dalaran, and didn't even send me to Silvermoon, saying that I didn't need any formal training yet. So I kept watching the mages in the village, learning everything I could from them. One or two of them willingly shared their magic with me, and I learned more about wielding arcane magic, which hadn't been my forte at all. Still, I found fire magic to be better, warmer, and I improved, in my own way.
One evening, as we were getting ready to go to bed, someone knocked at our door urgently. The evening was dark and cold, with rain pouring heavily and already flooding parts of the forest because of a spell gone wrong. I'd been working part of the day to help drain some of the affected areas and was exhausted, but I grabbed a dressing gown, a simple one made of finely-woven dark blue cotton, and went to open the door.
I nearly screamed. Sylvanas stood there, drenched to the bone and shivering like I'd never seen before. My brothers were with her, shivering just as badly.
"Sylvanas!" I gasped, pulling her inside as well as my brothers. "What in the world are you doing here? What happened?" I called my parents, who immediately came in and shouted in surprise. I brought everyone to the kitchen, peeling off Sylvanas's sodden cloak and conjuring a sweltering fire in the fireplace while my mother ran to get blankets.
"We've been riding for three days," said Sylvanas, shivering despite herself. "Something happened in Lordaeron."
"Not just Lordaeron," said Taegan, who was trembling so much I could barely understand him. I set about making some strong hot tea and various potions for them all. It had been three months since I'd seen my brothers last, and I hadn't seen Sylvanas in an even longer time, as years had passed since our hunting trip, with us only catching glimpses of each other at best. She'd written to me, though, and I kept her letters in an ornate wooden box by my window.
"What do you mean, not just Lordaeron?"
"The Burning Legion is back…" said Estelien.
"You can't mean that!" I cried, staring at them. "No! How… how is that possible?" I began to shake, recalling everything I knew about the Burning Legion. I didn't want to think about it, it was too horrible, too unfathomable, but the look on Sylvanas's face said it all.
"It's worse," she said. "Do you remember hearing about Ner'zhul?"
"The leader of the Orcish Horde?" asked my father. "Of course, what about him?"
"The Legion punished him… I don't know exactly what they did to him, but they sent him to the north, as some kind of undead," said Sylvanas. "You know how they have necromancers." She took the mug of tea I offered her and sipped it, "The Lich King, they called him, I think. The tales coming from the soldiers in Lordaeron are terrible, but they're believable."
I handed the tea to my brothers, before grabbing a cushion and sitting at Sylvanas's feet, "Tell us," I whispered.
She did, mostly looking at me, but sometimes staring into the fire and at my parents. My brothers interjected when they could, but nothing could make the story any less horrible: tales of a plague killing people in the north, and it being sent down to Lordaeron to decimate the population there… I felt myself feeling faint ten minutes into listening to Sylvanas speaking. I rested my hand on her knee, which she didn't seem to mind, and kept listening to her saying that this Undead Scourge was part of the Burning Legion. It was headed for us while Archimonde and his minions headed towards Kalimdor to work on the population there with Mannoroth.
"Is there anything we can do to stop this plague?" I asked quietly. I was shaking, feeling more terror than I remembered feeling in a long time, even during the last war.
Taegan shook his head, "No. Anyone who comes into contact with it dies a horrible death. The most we can do is run."
"We can't run!" I cried. "We have to fight!"
"It's difficult to fight against a disease we've never heard of before," said Estelien.
"Don't we know anything about this plague?"
Sylvanas shook her head. "I didn't take time to find out. We immediately came here to warn you. I'll send Taegan to Windrunner Village to warn my parents, and I'll go to Silvermoon. In point of fact," she stood up, "we should go now."
"Hang on, Sylvanas," I said, getting to my feet as well. "You can't go now, you're exhausted. Your horses need some serious rest as well. Why don't you sleep here tonight, and set off in the morning? You'll do much better if you take some time to regain your strength." I held her as she struggled, attempting to leave, "Sylvanas I'm serious! Go to bed, all of you. I'll take care of your horses and make sure they're fit for the journey tomorrow. Go!"
Perhaps my tone was convincing, because they did as I asked, Sylvanas taking my room because the guest room was being renovated. I went to my office, where I kept an herb garden and various potions, and grabbed what I had called a rejuvenating potion, which was a tonic to be rubbed on sore muscles. It was fatal when ingested, so I'd clearly labeled it, but I now took it out of the house, mindless of the freezing rain, and carried it to the stables. I noticed that despite how weary Sylvanas and my brothers had felt, they'd stabled the horses well and given them water and hay, although they hadn't taken off their tack. I did this now before checking on each horse and rubbing the tonic on their legs and flanks.
An hour later, the three horses were looking much less tired, and were resting comfortably under blankets to keep them warm. Each of them nudged me when I passed them, thanking me for my efforts. "Rest up, okay? You've got a long road ahead of you tomorrow."
As I went back to my room and changed into a dry nightgown, I wondered whether the others in Sylvanas's company had decided to take some time to rest as well.
Sylvanas was in my bed, not asleep, but watching me. She pulled the covers back when I approached and I climbed into bed beside her, wrapping my arms around her as she lay her head against my shoulder.
"Try to sleep, Sylvanas," I whispered, stroking her hair.
She did, murmuring something quietly. I stayed awake most of the night, listening to her deep breathing and making sure she was all right. Finally, at around three o'clock, I fell into an agitated sleep where unknown creatures chased me, waking up a couple of hours later, feeling as though I hadn't slept at all.
Sylvanas was still asleep, but I could hear my parents in the kitchen, and got up.
"Faith?"
I turned, "Go back to sleep, Sylvanas, it's okay."
She shook her head and got out of bed and apparently started looking for her clothes.
"Your clothes were so torn and soiled that my mother had to throw them away," I told her. "Grab whatever you want from my closet, most of it should fit. Your boots are here though."
We both got dressed, with my putting on a warm wool dress, moss green in color, and Sylvanas finding some black leggings and a leather jerkin that fit her. I handed her a long hooded cloak, on which I attempted a minor protection spell. It seemed to work, and the cloak glowed blue for a second.
"Thank you, Faith," she said, pulling me to her and holding me for a while. I breathed her in, closing my eyes and memorizing the feel of her. I wanted to cry and beg her to stay here with me and not care about anyone else, but neither of us could do that. Too much was at stake.
"I love you," I whispered.
Sylvanas didn't answer, but I saw the look in her eyes change. Her face softened at the confession, and for a second, I thought she was going to kiss me, but a knock at my door broke us apart. It was my mother, wanting to know if we were awake.
"We'll be right out," said Sylvanas because I couldn't speak.
It was still raining, the storm seeming worse than it had last night. It didn't seem normal, and I wondered whether it wasn't due to whatever was happening in Lordaeron.
I was scared. Terrified even. I didn't want Sylvanas to leave. I wanted her to let me go with her, but I couldn't ask her that. I sat by her as she had a quick bite of breakfast, wanting to touch her but not daring, wanting to talk to her but not knowing what to say. Every once in a while, her hand would find mine and squeeze it briefly, indicating that she knew, she knew everything.
Estelien had the horses ready, and too soon, he was calling for Sylvanas and Taegan to leave. I couldn't watch her leave again.
"We'll make sure she's safe," whispered Taegan to me as I turned away, unable to face it. He and Estelien kissed me, but Sylvanas didn't come to me. She was already outside. I felt like screaming at her. How could she leave me again?
Stop being selfish, my mind intervened. If you're going to have any kind of a chance, the land has to be safe.
They left.
For five days, I waited, studying as hard as I could, in the open now. Everyone was scared, not knowing what to expect if the plague came to Quel'Thalas. I worked on potion after potion, trying to find an immunization, but I was sure I wasn't going to find anything. Other herbalists and alchemists came to me, and we worked together to find something, anything, that could help us and the people of Lordaeron.
Word came from Sylvanas, that she had reached Silvermoon and had ordered that the elven gates that protected the kingdom, the Runestones, be reinforced with mages and rangers from all over the land.
I will be home soon, said the note. King Anasterian states that we don't have anything to fear for now. Still, it would be better if I knew that for sure.
The king was right, though. The plague didn't come to Quel'Thalas. But we heard of terrible things happening beyond our borders. Risen corpses, slaughtering people and raising the dead to form their own army, having already destroyed Hearthglen and marching towards Stratholme to do the same there.
"Stratholme is right on the other side of the mountains!" I cried one evening as Sylvanas explained this to us. We had gone to Windrunner Village this time and we sat in Windrunner Spire, where Sylvanas lived. Her sister Vereesa wasn't there, busy on some errand for the rangers, but her parents and grandfather sat with us, all as worried as we were.
"I know," she said. "I'd go and help, but I've been forbidden to leave the kingdom."
I personally had no desire to see Sylvanas go to Lordaeron and help fight an army of corpses. I couldn't even begin to imagine what they looked like, or what it would be like to fight them. How could you kill a corpse? The idea was so repugnant that I felt ill.
"Apparently the plague doesn't only kill. It also raises the bodies of the dead." Sylvanas's voice was so low that I couldn't be sure I'd heard her. "This Lich King certainly knows necromancy very well."
"You think they're going to come here," said my father. It was a statement, not a question.
"They'll have a hard time breaching our defenses, I promise you that. But I don't think that borders will bother them, no."
We went to bed that night, feeling very miserable indeed. Elsewhere, nobody worried. They knew something was happening in Lordaeron, but were positive that our homeland wouldn't be threatened. They had no idea that at that very moment, Prince Arthas Menethil was slaughtering the people of Stratholme, whether or not they were sick. I felt uneasy, unable to sleep all night, despite the fact that I shared Sylvanas's bed and that she held me, murmuring for me to relax and get some rest.
"I'm scared," I told her.
Opening her sky-blue eyes, she looked at me in the darkness, "So am I, Faith. But we'll all get through this, you'll see. We've been through worse."
But about that, she was wrong.
The plague continued to ravage the kingdom of Lordaeron, but we heard no news, nor did King Terenas Menethil ask us for help, although I knew that we would give it if it were required. He was convinced that his son, now in Northrend to find a way to stop the plague by killing the Lich King, would be able to put an end to this. We heard nothing for months, and were lulled into a false sense of security.
I remember waking up one day, feeling so ill I threw up in bed. After taking a bath and washing my sheets, I put on a dress of dark purple cotton, and picked up my hatchet to gather some leaves and herbs to settle my stomach. It was something that I did regularly, so I didn't bother telling anyone anything, although I did wave goodbye to Ravenna, who saw me leave. The sky was blue, but I saw some dark clouds coming from the south, so I decided to be as quick as I could, thirty or forty minutes at most, to avoid being caught in a storm.
As I was gathering leaves, a rabbit hopped past me, clearly terrified out of its mind. A moment later, a deer did the same thing, and I saw several birds flying overhead, seeming very agitated. What was going on? I figured a predator was nearby, and readied myself for a fight. Spiders had been known to come this way, as did lynxes sometimes, but the cats generally stayed away from us.
I heard a noise that didn't sound at all like an animal. It sounded rusty, like old wheels turning, and I wondered what a wagon was doing away from the path. I was behind a tree and concealed by bushes, which was perhaps my saving grace that day, because what I saw was enough to nearly destroy my sanity.
It was a wagon, but one such as I had never seen before, with what looked like a crude catapult attached to it, dripping with what could only be blood. There were two corpses there, and I was stunned to see that they were elven corpses, rangers in appearance, but what brought chills to my spine was the fact that the two beings manning the wagon – if it was a wagon – were two corpses. Two moving corpses.
By the Sunwell… how did they get through the Thalassian Pass?
I had no time to ponder anything more than that as a horrible drawn-out scream reached my ears from the direction of Everstone Village. Other screams joined it, and I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that these undead were there.
I ran, the smell of death and decay suffocating me the moment I got close to home. Corpses already lay strewn in the street, and I gasped as I recognized Santoran among the dead.
"Ravenna!" I screamed.
My sister, my beautiful raven-haired sister, lay there, her amber eyes staring unseeingly at the sky, their glow forever extinguished. Her body was still warm. I was numb. I couldn't think.
I looked up in time to see a corpse coming out of my house, and reacted before my rational mind could tell me anything. A ball of flame flew from my hand and hit the creature, engulfing it in bright red fire. The creature screamed, running away and leaving a trail of ichor behind it. Shaking, I went into the house and saw my mother in the hall, clearly dead. The rest of the house was empty. I vomited right where I was, and for a few minutes, I was unable to do anything but shake and cry.
But screams reached me. The sound of fighting was vibrant, and I knew that people were fighting against these undead. I couldn't just stay there.
Leaving the house, I sent tongues of frost flames at the undead, hoping to kill them, but they had no effect save to slow them down. Fire then. But my red fire, while strong, didn't seem to have much of an effect either. I was forced to use my hatchet as one of them came for me, meaning to strangle me. I hacked off its arms with a scream and conjured a fire I'd never seen before. It was black, and so hot it was painful to look at. The undead's body was immediately incinerated.
That's it, I thought.
I began to fight, making my way through the village and incinerating undead after undead. It wasn't enough, I knew, but it was all I could do. I saw Taegan fighting a creature in hand-to-hand combat, realizing that this creature was different than the ones I'd been killing. This one was taller and had actual armor on. A ranked leader. As I watched, its sword sliced through my brother's body, killing him.
I screamed, piercingly, and the undead turned towards me, a grotesque smile on its face. I ran. I feel no shame in saying it. I had no way to kill that thing if my own brother, a captain of the Quel'Thalas Rangers, had perished.
I tripped and fell over something, a corpse that looked only too familiar. Estelien.
Sobbing now, I closed his unseeing eyes and got back up, ignoring the pain in my body from the fall. I started running again, reaching a place in the main square where my father was holding his ground with several other fighters. He saw me and pulled me to him, holding me tightly.
"Faith!"
"They're dead, Father… Mother, Taegan, Ravenna, Estelien, Santoran… they're all dead…"
A look of deepest sorrow crossed my father's features. He allowed one tear to fall before he pulled me aside, "Faith, grab a horse and ride. Go to Silvermoon, get away from here and don't ever look back, do you understand me? There's nothing you can do here. They're raising the corpses as they're killing us."
"I won't leave you, Father!"
"Faith, go! I love you, honey." He kissed me and held me tightly. "Go!"
"I love you too," I said, tears coming over me again.
He pushed me towards where three ponies were waiting and I climbed onto one. But as I did so, I saw several arrows hit my father in the chest, and shrieked. Warriors next to him fell in a similar manner, and by the time I reached them, my father was dead.
I'm the last one, I thought incoherently.
I couldn't leave.
"Gather the survivors!" I shouted. "We make for Windrunner Village! Throw corpses into the fires as you go!"
Amazingly, the ones still living listened to me. The few that could kept fighting, and I aided them as best I could, creating pools of black fire to kill as many undead as I could and also burning the corpses of the dead elves so that they couldn't be raised.
All of a sudden, the one who had killed my brother, the obvious leader of this pack of creatures, came for me. I knew I would die, but I had no intention of going without a fight. I don't know how long we fought. All I had was my hatchet and magic, but Sylvanas had taught me hand-to-hand combat and I was able to hold my own. Dark magic surrounded me, but I couldn't look around to see what was going on. The thing in front of me captured all of my attention.
But he stopped fighting suddenly, stepping back and beginning to laugh. It sounded dark and creaky, like a crypt door being opened to release countless horrors. "Look around you, foolish girl."
I did, and my heart shattered.
Dead, they were all dead. Corpses surrounded me, their stench threatening to kill me. I saw Estelien closest to me, his bleeding corpse moving and wielding his sword. My father too was there, the arrows still in his chest, and my mother, sister, and Taegan.
I was alone. And they would raise me too once I was dead. Black flames appeared next to me.
I'm sorry… Sylvanas, I love you. I love you more than my own life. More than anything. Always. Be safe, my love.
I was about to step into the flames when arrows began to rain down on top of the fiends around me.
Someone called out my name.
It was Sylvanas. Her horse came to a brief halt next to me, and she bodily pulled me up to her – even now, I marvel at her strength – and began galloping north as quickly as she could. As we left, I summoned all the strength I could to conjure black fires to engulf whatever was left of my village. I heard inhuman screams behind me as undead corpses burned.
We rode for what seemed like hours, but was really fifteen minutes. Dismounting next to a stream, Sylvanas washed my face quickly, not saying anything. I didn't even feel her touch on my skin. The shroud of grief had wrapped itself around me, and I felt nothing. Nothing.
"She's in shock," said someone.
"She's just seen the entire population village killed and turned into undead creatures," snapped Sylvanas. "Give her a minute." She took off my dress, examining me for injuries, but there were none. "I have extra jerkins and leggings in my bag," she said to nobody in particular.
I let her dress me, staring ahead. She prized the hatchet from my hands and put it back in its sheath, securing it to a belt around my waist. After a few moments, she kissed my cheek and had me get back on the horse, climbing on behind me and holding me.
We rode, warning anyone nearby that they had to evacuate and go to Silvermoon as quickly as they could. Rangers from elsewhere in Quel'Thalas joined us, so that we soon numbered over one-hundred people. We didn't stop until well after nightfall, when a fine rain had begun to fall upon us. It was a cold rain, not of magical origin, but we were able to make a fire in a small cave, and the soldiers erected tents for us.
Sylvanas didn't leave my side. She wrapped me in one of her cloaks that smelled so much like her that it jarred me from the pit of despair I'd fallen into. I rested my body against hers and she held me, stroking my hair and my face.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry…"
I couldn't speak. The fact that she was alive was the only comfort I could find, and for a while, I just closed my eyes and felt her there with me. I didn't sleep, and I wouldn't have eaten anything had Sylvanas not fed me herself.
Sylvanas had a rotating watch that night. I heard a few people saying that other villages had also been hit by what was coming to be known as the Scourge, and I wondered suddenly whether Sylvanas's family was all right. I looked at her, eyes swimming with tears again.
"I don't know how my parents are. We passed some undead on the way to your village, and we killed them, so I hope nobody reached Windrunner Village." She wiped the tears from my cheeks, "Please go to sleep, sweetheart. I'm not leaving you."
"Promise?" I asked, my voice sounding cracked.
"I promise." She held me tighter and I stayed there, not sleeping but trying to work through everything. My family was dead. They'd been risen, but I was fairly confident that they were really dead now, and hopefully at peace. I no longer had a home.
I started. My picture! The one I kept of Sylvanas!
"Where's my robe?" I asked.
"In my bag," she replied.
"But the…"
"Shh, it's okay, honey, it's okay." She kissed the corner of my mouth and reached into one of the jerkin's pockets, extracting the picture she'd put there. I relaxed instantly, but began to cry. I don't know how long I cried for. It could have been minutes, hours, or days, but I let all of my emotions out. Sylvanas let me cry, only gently stroking my hair, and the rangers stood by us, watching me with their own sorrow in their eyes. Most of them had known my village well, if only because of my brothers, their captains, who were now dead.
I stayed that way for an untold amount of time, feeling Sylvanas against me and loving her more than I ever thought possible. She was the only one left in my life now, and I made a promise to myself to stay with her forever. Never would I leave her side.
Somehow, I fell asleep in Sylvanas's arms, but it wasn't restful. I was plagued by ghastly nightmares where I saw my family murdered in countless ways, and even saw Sylvanas's own death. It was that part that woke me up, screaming and crying out for her. She was right there, holding me and soothing me, telling me that everything was okay.
The sun was barely rising. Almost everyone was up, although some exhausted soldiers were still sleeping. I didn't want to move, but I knew I couldn't just sit there, so I stood up and went to gather some herbs to make some revitalizing potion for everyone. Sylvanas was by my side in case of an ambush, but none came. The woods were quiet, too quiet, as though mourning for everything that had been lost.
What had happened to my beautiful woods? The sense of security I'd always felt had been shattered in one clawing stroke, and I didn't think we would ever get it back.
Once back at camp, I made the potion quickly. It wasn't much, but everyone got some, although Sylvanas insisted I take two vials of it. I felt slightly better afterwards, better able to cope with whatever might happen now. With Sylvanas by my side, I knew I was going to be fine.
As we got ready to leave, one of the ranger scouts rushed to Sylvanas, his face pale and sweating.
"They're coming," he said.
Fear attempted to paralyze me, but I wouldn't let it. Already we could smell the stench of death that preceded the coming of the Scourge. The sky above us grew dark and menacing as flying creatures – gargoyles, I would learn later – led the way. On the ground, enormous spider-like creatures skittered, even now chewing bits of the corpses that shambled along with them. Some of the rangers gagged at the sight and smell, but I was already focusing on making fires. A small ball of black flames revolved slowly in my hand, and I knew I'd let it fly the moment anything got close to us.
That moment came very quickly. We saw someone familiar, definitely a leader, order his creatures to attack. The rangers let their arrows loose, and I started throwing balls of black fire at the undead creatures. A gargoyle was incinerated in midair and two corpses met the same fate in the span of one minute.
"Who is that?" asked someone, staring at the leader. "It can't… it looks like Prince Arthas!"
"Arthas?" I cried. Arthas Menethil? How was it possible that he was leading the Scourge army into Quel'Thalas?
Next to me, Sylvanas seemed stunned. She recovered faster than the rest of us, continuing her battle with the undead and calling out orders. I conjured more black fires, although it was absolutely exhausting. I alternated between the black fire and the dark red one, which was very hot, but not as quick to burn, and could give the enemy a chance to survive the attack. I had no choice, though, tired as a was after just a few minutes.
"We have to flee," said Sylvanas. "They'll keep pushing us towards Silvermoon, and we won't last if they keep replenishing their ranks."
But we had no chance to pull back, not like this. Taking my time, I created an enormous wall of fire, both black and red, that stretched for a couple of miles. The forest itself was burning as well, but I had no choice in this matter. We could always regrow that.
"Let's go!" screamed Sylvanas. She pulled me onto her horse, and we sped away, making sure that the soldiers on foot were able to leave before we could. The fire wasn't going to last long, I knew. They'd be able to get around it in thirty minutes or less, which was why I set unseen fire traps to decimate their numbers further. How the knowledge of unseen traps had come to me was something I didn't know. Had I ever been to Dalaran, however, I would have been told that in times of great stress, powerful magics could come to a mage without warning.
"You were amazing, Faith," said Sylvanas to me. "I had no idea your fires were so powerful."
"I didn't either," I said in a hollow voice. "Sylvanas, we're going to have to burn corpses. If rangers die, they have to be burned immediately or their necromancers will raise them."
Sylvanas's arm tightened around me, "We'll take care of it, don't worry."
But it was easier said than done.
As we sped towards Silvermoon, evacuating villages on our way, we fought Arthas and his forces sporadically. We also blew several bridges to keep him and his army from crossing as quickly as they wanted to. We bought ourselves an additional day that way, but it was obvious that things were getting dire. Arthas now wanted Sylvanas, and was actively going after her. He also wanted me because I'd killed so many of his troops. Just that morning, I'd killed a gargoyle who had picked up a dying soldier, killing them both instantly.
Sylvanas was worried.
"I want you to go to Silvermoon, Faith," she said to me.
"We'll be there in two days," I told her.
"No, Faith. I want you to go now. Arthas has seen you. I don't want him to get you."
"You want me to go without you?" The sentence didn't make any sense. I didn't understand what she was saying. "I can't, Sylvanas. I won't leave you."
"This isn't a request, Faith, it's an order. I don't want you to keep fighting the Scourge with us. You're not a ranger, you're a mage, and you'd be much more useful if you helped reinforce the capital's defenses." She put both her hands on my shoulders when I started to protest, "I don't want you turned into a monster, Faith, please."
"I'm not leaving you!" I cried, tears beginning to run down my face again. "I swore I'd never leave you." Terror ripped through me at the thought of Sylvanas being on her own. I wasn't an idiot, I knew that the situation was critical for us. The Scourge hadn't stopped advancing, no matter what we did to them, and burning the bridges hadn't been enough to stop them for long. If Sylvanas wanted me to leave, it was because she was preparing a final stand.
Sylvanas pulled me aside, wiping my cheeks, "Listen to me. I will always be with you, no matter what happens. No matter what Arthas does to me, I will always love you." She began to cry too, "I want us to be together – if I could, I'd run away with you now and we wouldn't have to worry about anything else. But, baby, you know I can't do that. It's too bad here now."
"Sylvanas, no… if anything happens to you…"
"Then you will move on."
"No!"
"Yes. You'll move on, and be happy and remember all the times we spent together. It will hurt, yes, but you're going to be fine. I know you, and I believe in you. You'll make it through this. Promise me that you won't give up if something happens to me." She wrapped her arms around me, "Promise me, Faith!"
I couldn't stop crying. Was she saying goodbye to me? I couldn't leave her. How could I leave her? I wasn't going to leave her to die at the Scourge's hands. No. "Nothing's going to happen to you," I whispered, holding onto her tighter than I'd ever had. "I promise."
"Oh, Faith…"
She kissed me. It was long, and deep, and everything I had ever imagined it would be. She held me tightly, as though she wanted to remember the feel of my body against hers, and her kiss was delicious, demanding and desperate at the same time. My heart raced in my chest, and agony coursed through my veins at the thought that this would be the only time I ever kissed her.
"I love you," I told her. "I love you so much, my general."
"I love you, Faith. Please remember that, always." Tears coursed down her cheeks and she kissed me again, softly now.
"I'll see you in Silvermoon." I could barely keep myself from screaming in pain.
"You will," she smiled a little. "Now go, Faith, please. If you love me, go. I don't want to have to worry about you." She led me to her horse, Prince, and I climbed onto him, sobbing. I couldn't leave her, I couldn't!
"Sylvanas…"
She rubbed my leg, looking stricken, "I know, Faith. I love you."
"I love you."
I left, along with twenty other people we had gathered from nearby villages. I felt numb, unable to cope. I looked back and saw Sylvanas looking at me, making sure I really left and didn't linger. Suddenly, I galloped back to her, hearing her let out a frustrated cry.
"Faith!"
I pulled a ring off my finger. It was a ring my mother had given me years ago, which was made of silver vines, wrapping themselves around my finger. It was something many people had always envied, including Sylvanas herself, who had examined it on several occasions.
"Give me your hand," I told her.
She did, and I didn't miss the fact that it was her left one. I slid the ring on her wedding finger, kissing it in the process.
"Always," I whispered.
Both of us were crying as I left, for good this time, joining my companions. I think I knew then that I'd never see her alive again. She certainly must have known it, and I never forgot her sacrifice.