~*~ Author's Notes ~*~

"If I die young, burry me in satin

Lay me down on a bed of roses…(3)"

… so that I can spend my undead existence smelling nice in something pretty.

~*~Chapter 30~*~

Kayas

The still form sat on a fallen log and looked up at the moon, cloak pulled tight that only her face showed under the hood; just the glowing red eyes, white curls of hair and black-slicked mouth. The bloodless skin of her face showed the tattoos she had had acquired as a living High Elf, the pale stripes reflected in the moonlight.

"Good evening, Druid." She said without turning to see who had come upon her. In the distance plagued hounds were be seen jumping at each other threw the bushes and nighttime mist. She knew the Druid had not noticed her until it was too late to go elsewhere and not be noticed by her.

The Druid shifted, staying at a distance. "Good evening." The way the Banshee Queen sat, head still high and shoulders back even as she mused something unknowing, made Kayas want to bow. Maybe it was the whole tragic air of fallen noble. The High Elves were certainly good at affecting that specific aura.

"Do you know about Children's Week?"(1)

"Yes, ma'am."

"Perhaps you will be interested in knowing that even as Forsaken we celebrate this holiday."

The absurdity of such a thing made the Druid snort before she realized her insolence would not likely go over well with the Queen of said Forsaken. She stiffened, preparing to run if need be.

Amused, the Dark Lady turned her head and motions with long purple stained nails that the little Druid should approach. "Amongst the living the holiday celebrates the children who's parents died to keep others amongst the living, yes? And you honor those children by giving them toys and candy and … mortal trinkets."

Stepping closer to the Dark Lady the little Druid nodded, aware that the woman sitting in front of her wouldn't see her head motions. She stepped over the log and took a seat a few feet away from the taller elf.

"Perhaps," the undead Queen went on, "you will be interested in knowing why the Forsaken celebrate it?"

I assume, the Druid though, it's to mock the living… "If you care to share, I will listen." After all, I was raised to respect the dead. Irony of all ironies.

The Dark Lady pointed to the pack of plagued hounds, leaping and frolicking closer and closer to where the two sat watching, "You honor children who gave their parents to the war effort amongst the living. Amongst the dead we honor the parents who gave their children."

Kayas had been looking at the Dark Lady as she spoke, remembering the plagued hounds from her dream. Then her head snapped around to where the long white finger pointed. In the distance came the sound of laugher. Harsh, grating laughter. Her hand was over her mouth in horror as the outlines of little children could be seen amongst the plagued beasts. They were kicking around a human head inside a crimson colored helmet. The long black braid twirled as it was flung threw the air over and over again.

She looked away, covering her face with her hands, squeezing her misty eyes shut in an attempt to block out what she had just seen. Undead children. Forsaken children. Bones and rotting flesh, glowing eyes and plated hair. Amongst them was at least one quel'dorie child, long ears long since chewed off by something, but unmistakably not Human as the other three had been.

"You see," the Forsaken Queen was saying, speaking softly as if the Druid's horror meant anything to her, "they were left behind as their parents went off to war. Often they were alone when the Scourge came calling on them. Often they died alone." Her voice became harsh, "Can you imagine waking up to a nightmare where you were abandoned to the very fate your protectors swore to keep you from?"

You mean like when the Priest left me alone for you? "Yes, I can imagine." Though she hadn't mean to there was a bit of sarcasm in her voice. The Dark Lady slanted a look at her then back at the children.

They wound closer and close, headless of which direction they went. Out here they were the quick and the deadly, the things you had to watch out for in the night. Half a dozen little glowing eyes blinked in and out of the bushes and trees, moving with easy grace along with the hounds.

Soon enough they noticed the pair and, shouting greetings to their Queen, ran over with the head of the slain Human. Kneeling the little silver-haired quel'dorie child presented it as an offering. "She came when we called," the child's voice was almost lifelike, "We gave her a swift death." All three looked up at their Queen with expectant adoration.

The Dark Lady nodded and smiled, genuinely smiled for the children, pleased to hear there was one less Scarlet out there harming her people. "Well done, my angels." To the Druid she said, "The women Scarlets are easiest to lure away. They can't resist the call of a wounded child. My children use this to their advantage, thinning the heard one weakling at a time."

Shaking and ready to vomit up bile the Druid got up to leave.

Giggling like it was a game the knobby boned children swarmed liked playful locusts, smiling with joy at the prospect of a new plaything. "Come!" one said, taking her hand. The cold, skinless fingers of the tiny bone hands of the little boy closed around Kayas wrists with surprising strength.

The mistake was looking to the Dark Lady for help. Or maybe it was the sickening guilt of seeing the look in the woman's eyes. Their parents abandoned them. Will you? Having lost their families when they rose as Scourge, these children now looked to Sylvannas not only as a Queen but a mother. Looking back down at the children she saw hope in their eyes. Rational thought processes. Happiness. If they couldn't have the life they were suppose to they were determined to have the afterlife they had earned.

Not too long ago the Druid had been a child, remembering all the wonderment she felt for the world and how every slight from another cut so deep that the wounds never fully heal. Those wounds shaped who she was today and were the reason she chose the feral path. These children had their own scars to contend with that had shaped them as well.

The quel'dorie child squealed like it was Winter's Veil and the living creature before them was a stocking full of happiness. But the kaldorie child had no idea what to do with Forsaken children. Did she play ball with them? – the though of kicking the head around turned her stomach several times over.

I cant believe I'm doing this. Playing with Scourged children! What would my mother say? What would my teachers say? Leaning down she tried to smile, "I'm… um… not particularly good with children but, um, what games do you like to play?" Why do I get the feeling I'm going to regret asking that?

"Kill it!" Apparently this was the name of the game as well as a battle cry. That would explain why there were no plagued birds or squirrels or even flies in this place. If one was eternally a child who never slept, what was there to do but play games?

Kayas winced. Before she could speak the little boy noticed her face and drew back. Distrust suddenly hung in the air. They had only approached her because the Dark Lady was there, but they were thinking beings after all and well aware of when someone didn't want them around. Though most adults ignore this instinct children are far more likely to pay it heed.

She felt guilty. Their faces, so young and full of the fact of their existence would haunt her forever if she didn't make amends. "How about a piggy back ride?"

"You or me?" The Human girl, third of the trio, asked with a half-trusting grin.

SHINK! Shinkshink!

Lights were flashing by her head, inches from her temples. If she hadn't bent closer to the child it would have struck. Reflexively she snatched up the little girl and curled her into a protective embrace. Something on the other side of the clearing, the direction the trio had come from was rattling the foliage and cursing. Darkhounds were fleeing as if their afterlives depended on it.

The sensation of holding a writhing corpse against her body just about caused the Druid to make good on her very real need to vomit. Sylvannas snatched up two children and was gone before the Druid could even realize they were under attack.

What here could hurt the - oh, yeah...

Men and women in red and white tabards were surrounding her. Before she could pick a direction several more of the flashes – bolts of Holy energy (2) – struck her. The pain of Holy magic and the plague sizzled in her blood almost took her to the ground. Panting with the effort not to yield she tried to flee. Her flesh, little as there was, smoked where the bolts struck, holes singed into her light leather clothing.

Picking a direction at random she moved but walls of golden light sprung up everywhere she turned. Knowing full well she would be burned beyond life if she tried to cross she chose instead to fake one direction and when the wall went up there, darted in the direction she had wanted to go.

She almost got threw; if not for the line of people standing in her way that is. They advanced. She backed away, still holding the frightened child. They were good, making her panic long enough to set the trap. She wasn't used to being hunted by creatures that shared her intelligence of the hunt as well as superior skills in magic.

The ground felt strange under her feet, as if every blade of dead grass were reaching up towards her calves, or rather away from the walls of Holy energy? Even the blighted plants sought to distance itself from the Light? This had not occurred to her before, but flashed threw her mind now. Some plants were quite sentient but others operated on instinct alone.

She tried to calm the child, who was clinging to her for dear existence. "Fly away!" She was saying, kicking her feet against the Druid's sides. "Mommy said the Druids could fly!"

"I'm not that kind of Druid." She whispered hushingly to the child, not wanting the advancing Scarlet soldiers to hear their conversation. All she had on her side at this point was that they didn't know she was a Druid and was in fact still alive. Surely they would let her pass, being Human's after all, even if they did look so sinister in their red and black armor that they seemed quit uncaring if she were alive.

Taking a deep breath she stood strait up, chin in the air as if it would make her half-grown self taller than the man before her, and looking down her elegant nose at the one in the lead. Behind him his battle-mages were winding up their holy bolts again. The child she slung across one hip as if it were her own and the most natural thing in the world for her to be holding it as such "Can I go nowhere in this blasted forest without someone trying to kill me. Honestly, is this any way to treat a lady?"

Somewhere someone laughed.

"Shut your mouth, you filthy Scourged witch!" The leader barked, face wrinkling up in disgust inside his crimson helm. One eye was white and obviously of no use to him. His thick-gloved hands wielded an impressively polished sword of red and white; red stained armor glowing in the light of the Holy energy circle trapping his prey.

Affronted, Kayas tried her best to affect that tone the Elders always took with her when she did something she was not supposed to… such as braving the demons of the Crag Ravine to retrieve a misplaced hairbrush. "I'll have you know that I am not Scourge, nor Forsaken, nor a witch! I am Kayas of Auberdine and if you know what is good in this place then you will let me pass!"

The mages laughed. The leader scowled. The warriors in back took out their swords. "I'll have you know," the man said, "That I don't care if you're the Queen of Darnassus, all you Scourge wenches are the same to us!" With that his sword came up in attack-

-Dropping the child the Druid rolled out of the way, shifting into her Dire Bear form as she did. This form – one she had no mastery over and wasn't even suppose to know yet - took a great deal of energy to transition into but offered the greatest armor and regeneration from her healing spells. Rooted to the earth with every step she took she reached down, down, down past the plagued ground to find the touch of Cenarius that would allow her to call on His powers to aid her. Up, up, up into the air she sent her will, flying threw the stratosphere and merging itself with Great Elune. Bound fully now with earth and moon, she was a force to be reckoned with.

It only took two seconds for this to occur, but long enough for the mages to finish their spells and send more bolts of Light in her direction. Only just in time did she realize they were aimed for the child! Rearing up on her hind legs she fell to the ground with full force, shaking the earth around her in waves. Green shoots of vines shot out of the ground and wrapped themselves around the child, creating a living protective barrier that would regenerate on it's own. Though she was not a caster she had applied her mind to master protective skills in her feral forms. The barrier would feed from her connection to Cenarius while she stayed in this form.

"By the Light!" the leader shouted staggering back, "What on earth is that crazy She-Witch making in her dungeons?"

Affronted once more the Druid realize they meant her. Forsaken… Night Elf… Druid… thing. Roaring with anger and enough force to shake the trees she charged the leader, intending to send him flying into his own casters. The casters were winding up harder spells that were meant to blast holes in the coverage around the little girl. Both the leader and the Druid collided, her enormous clawed paws and arms as thick as his waist against his shield and sword. Imagine her surprise when he was not knocked back, but braced himself and only moved a couple feet. He wasn't green, for sure!

Ok, so I don't know how to use this form fully yet- The though preceded her seeing several holy bolts being released and turning her massive head enough to see the child scrambling to stay behind the pieces of the barrier that were regenerating the fastest. I have to take out the casters first. Both paws on the leader's shield, she shoved it to the side, intent on pushing him over and rushing past. His sword glanced off the thick hide of her shoulders and drew blood.

Ignoring the pain and went past him the same way he ignored being shoved off balance rolled to the side. The casters were all in unison now, channeling an enormous bolt of energy that would destroy the barrier and the child. Skidding to halt just feet away, the Druid realize they were inside a protective arcane barrier. How do I shut-

ScreeEEEEEEEeeee!

All casters dropped to the ground, stunned into silence. The Druid jerked her head side to side, wishing she could put paws over her ears. The sound - that sound! - was enough to drive her mad! What is that? She and all the magic users were looking around, trying to pinpoint the shrieking.

ScreeeeeEEEEeee!

Several of the mages, perhaps as many as half, had fallen to the ground in a stupor. Their minds were gone for the meantime and they were useless to their comrades. The leader, not having any skill in magic manipulations at all, was immune. The Druid reared back, pooling enough of Elune's light into a thin shield around herself, and drove a path right over the remaining mages, knocking them into the blighted ground and shutting down their attempts to keep attacking for good. At least one of them looked as if he may be able to summon his control of the Light even threw the mind-numbing screeching. Wherever the arcane barrier had come from it was gone now.

Turning back to the child she rushed over, intent that they would be able to get out of the opening now. Halfway back she faltered, realizing that the high-pitched whine was cutting off her connection to Elune and Cenarius. The Dire Bear from would leave her at any moment; she wasn't strong enough to support it on her own. She wasn't even supposed to know how to do it yet: if her teachers found out she had learned it on her own they would be furious!

The barrier failed for lack of support, the child trembling in terror in the circle of dead vines. Small yellow tears had soaked her face, glowing yellow eyes pulsing with her terror. Shifting into her elfin form the Druid snatched her up and turned tale to run past the distracted leader. For his part he was swinging that impressive sword at hordes of plagued hounds trying to make work of his useless casters.

Kayas skidded to a halt just inside the opening of the circle of fire: a man dressed crown to booted toe in golden armor stood before her. His thick-gloved hands rested around the pommel of his great gold-etched sword, tip resting on the ground. His armor, every inch covered in gold and fine silver, had nary a scratch on it and gleamed like the sun. The blue and white tabard he wore displayed a roaring lion, eyes embroidered with golden thread. Larger by far than the average man, as most of his kind tended to be, he stood half a head taller than the Night Elf who trembled and bled before him.

"15 min ago," the man's voice was like smooth stone, "a woman I had just talked to came up missing. You wouldn't happen to know where she is, now would you?" He was talking to the child.

Banshee Queen's voice floated out of nowhere, though her self was not to be seen. "Assuming my necromancers can reattach the head, you'll find her in the Appothocarium in a few hours."

~*~ End Notes ~*~

(1)I wasn't going to add holidays to the story but then I feel in love with the idea of why the Forsaken would celebrate children. Then I came up with the idea of why there are no children in the game world (besides it would be messed up) and will add it latter. It fits rather well.

(2) Holy Bolts – I assume that if High Elves can fling them at things dead and not-yet-dead then so can Humans.

(3) 'If I die Young', by The Band Perry