~*~ Chapter 32 ~*~
The Dark Lady turned towards the Paladin, crossing her arms, "You wish to fight me for her?"
"I was hoping for a loan actually." He grinned behind his faceplate.
"Actually, she's property of neither the Dark Lady nor yourself, Sir Fordring." It was Serz, followed by Mr. Meow, and Caspin. "You may interview her if she allows it but I am here to make sure you do not use force." He came into view from behind a thicket. His pristine pressed robes managed not to snag on anything, an impressive thing to do when wearing a dress in the woods.
"Serze, could you stop me if you tried?" Tirion was amused, gloved hand reaching down to scratch the chin of the insisting feline. The Scarlets were now assessing a great many enemies. The longer they stood there the more people they were looking at fighting, all to avenge one dead and another becoming dead.
"I'm told I have a good bite." The Warlock replied with great pride. The cat crooned in agreement.
Tirion took a deep breath and let it out. Everyone was watching the pulsing vines now. The green was spreading into the air it seemed, purifying the breezes that came threw and sending the scent of moonlight and fresh turned, rich black earth into the winds. Even the sky seemed to be lightening up.
"Whom then does she belong to, good Warlock?"
"The High Priest-"
As if his mouth suddenly quit working his jaw snapped shut and was held firmly. For a moment it looked as if he did it himself till the Paladin cocked his head at the Banshee Queen. "Now, now, Sylvannas, keeping secrets from your dearest friends? For shame!" He tisked at her; she scowled in return.
The circle of green was spreading upward and outward. Now one of the trees nearest was being affected. The blighted bark was bending and creaking. Downward the new life traveled till the roots themselves were affected. Upward it went, the lowest limbs and branches jerking and quivering, twisting with new life and blooming tiny green shoots. Above the thick coating of vines where the Druid hid a small rain cloud was forming, dripping water onto the vines and feeding the roots of the trees and vines clean water.
Mr. Meow sat down to eat the freshly green grass. It was few and far between when he got to eat real grass and not that stuff the scout grew in the planter back home.
"Uh," The Scarlet Commander broke the stunned silence, "what kind of thing is she? I assumed a Scourged elf but… the Scourge can't do that. In fact, you're quite known for doing the opposite." His question was directed at the Paladin, not wanting to seem to be civil even for an instant with the Banshee Queen.
Serze, Tirion and the Dark Lady all looked at each other. For his part the scout stayed back, observing from a distance. His kneeling position on the ground brought him eye level with the trio of children who had quite a reputation for being blights on the Scarlet Crusaders. They were even given the nickname "Sylvannas' Angels" for the way they managed to always look innocent when caught doing mischief. One sat in his lap, the other two on either side and all watching.
"I'm quite puzzled," Serz said, "I'm not sure myself. According to sources she should be of the feral arts, but she has done more of the other specializations since being acquired."
"Acquired by whom?" Tirion asked once more. There were quite a few High Priests to be found around the know world and threw the Dark Portal.
The Scarlet Commander spoke up, "According to that collar around her neck I reckon some Blood Elf." The man shrunk back just a tad when the Forsaken elf hissed at him past sharp canines.
Tirion was nodding, face blank. This meant he had ideas he would be checking out. Which meant he would be leaving soon to do so. "Tell me more, good Sir." The cloud had spread to the entire clearing, sprinkling them all with pure water. The grass was growing back under all their feet, the trees standing up once more with greenery.
Mr. Meow retreated to where Caspin knelt in the thicket. The children squealed to see the giant cat and clung to his neck, pulling him to the ground and climbing him. When they couldn't make him 'giddyup' they settled for standing on him for a better view.
Serze chanced a look at his Queen before proceeding; "I have seen nothing of any one path in her enough to know where her specialties lay. I had first heard of her healing abilities in Qual'thalas. Afterward she grew trees from sleeping seeds using Fel magic mixed with Holy magic and turning the Scourge there into planters. Then she had gone from one end of Tirisfal to the next killing every Plagued thing that moved in one hit. I can't say as I can pinpoint any one specialty in all that."
Tirion's eyebrows went up to his hairline to hear all this. Yes, he had heard stories about this and stories about that but to find out it was all due to one person – one Night Elf Druid whelp obviously tainted with the Plague – was amazing. No wonder the Forsaken Queen was smug to have possession of such a gifted Druid.
As if on queue the rain departed and the vines pulled back, sinking into the earth. At first only the thickness of moving vines could be seen, though quickly they slid away to reveal the Human man beneath them. His armor was misshapen, having been broken away by the vines, but his stomach was smooth as baby skin and unblemished. Fully healed and free of the poison he waited for the vines to slip away from his limbs before leaping to his feet and rushing towards his companions.
Turning back sharply he pointed, "She's alive! She's not Scourge, she's alive! I don't know what she is but she's not one of them, I promise that!" His heart could be seen beating in every twitch of his muscles. Almost nothing of his clothing remained but his tabard to cover him; the vines had ripped them all up.
"What is this, you witch!" The Scarlet Commander demanded of the Banshee Queen. In the clearing where the vines had protected her work was a wooden statue of the Druid, flowing twiggy hair interlaced with tiny green flowering plants and covered in the leaves that sprouted from her very skin. She sat upright, legs crossed and hands out as if offering something. There were no markings of the Plague upon her still form.
"By the Lightbringer!" – Tirion and Scarlets
"By the Sunwell!" – Sylvannas and High Elf child
"By the Dark Lady!" – Serze and Human children
"By the moon…" – Caspin
The great black feline hauled himself off the ground and went to investigate. He sniffed first her hair and then her face. Smooth wooden features were peaceful and relaxed, hands extended outward. Where nose touched cheek, followed by a lick, it looked to soften. Gradually the softening spread downward and outward. The wood gave way to flesh; the flesh yielded to blood; the body began to breath.
The green surroundings, however, did not fair as well. Slowly at first and then with growing speed the life was sucked out of everything once more. As the little druid took on color and life again it was threw the retaking of her life essence from everything around her. The vines withered, the grass died, the trees drooped back to gray.
Luminous amber eyes fluttered open before all the circle of green was completely gone. Seeing it receding the Night Elf wailed in despair, losing the hope she had gained at being able to call the power to begin with. Exhausted, trembling to stand on feet that were still attached to the ground, she faltered. The very last of the green life entered her body and the roots broke, allowing freedom of movement.
Fine shivers cascaded to every limb when muscles refused to work in unison to keep her upright. The first trip sent her into the feline, who graciously broke her fall. The second one had her flat on her back in the dead grass panting with the effort.
"I can fix that pesky need to breath." The Banshee Queen offered with head cocked to the side under the dark hood.
"I'll pass." The words in Darnassian tumbled from her lips without thinking to translate.
The shivers became more violent, causing wracking and spasms. She had felt this before though, in the mote of the Undercity: the Plague was retaking her system. Once infected, always infected. Though her magic drove it back for a while it quickly surfaced again and retook her features.
From the corner of her eye she saw movement. Turning slightly she locked eyes with the scout, who's hands were over his mouth as if to stop himself from either saying something he didn't want to or holding back bile. Whichever it was would stay within his own mind when he watched her change from the Night Elf she had been into the Forsaken being she became under the Banshee Queen's administrations.
He fled, horrified by what he saw.
The Druid turned over, curling in on herself. No girl liked to be looked at like that and then have a boy run away from the sight of her. There wasn't even a way to pretend it wasn't personal and that he didn't reject her. It didn't matter that he was Horde and she was Alliance… they were both kaldorie. For their people being rejected by another kaldorie hurt more than anything.
The Scarlets, the Paladin, the Dark Lady, the Warlock, the Forsaken children and the enormous black cat all looked down on her as she lay there trapped in her own self loathing and anger. Both fists were balled and covering her face where she wept in despair.
The Paladin knelt down, resting one gloved hand on her shoulder, "Why do you weep child? You have done a wondrous thing this day, saving that man's life." Though she felt the flow of Holy power in him it did not burn her. He needed to teach the Priest this trick.
She shook her head in disagreement, adamant in her conviction, "Once infected…sob always infected. I could not save him."
Tirion and the Dark Lady's heads both snapped up to look at the man. His allies had formed ranks around him, he was reattaching his armor as best he could. Tirion swore; the Banshee Queen laughed.
"Oh, my. What do we have here?" Her voice was soft enough to miss if you weren't looking at her already. One hand raised slightly into the air, her nose tipped downward to study the man. Slowly she pulled her hand back to her making a fist as it came.
As if being pulled by a string the man began walking toward her. At first he didn't realize he was moving till one of the medics put up a hand to stop his progress. When the Light touched the plague tainted flesh it burned. The man yelped and jumped back. Suddenly he was surrounded by sword points and panting heavily.
The Paladin's shoulders slumped, he turned to the Druid, "What have you done?"
"I tried – I tried!" Her body's wracking prevented elaboration for a few moments, "I can cleanse the poison, but I cannot remove the plague. I tried!"
The medic was shaking his head saying, "He's alive. He's tainted with the plague, can spread it to others and he'll obey the Banshee Queen, but he's still alive."
The man was shaking his head, dropping to his knees in refusal of the truth, "I am not Scourge! I will not obey-"
The sound of Scarlet backup arriving was very close now.
The Commander lowered his chin and squared off with the Dark Lady. "Woman, you will turn over this creature to the Scarlet Campaign or we will take her from you one piece at a time. A thing such as you will not be allowed to possess a thing that can do that. Dead or alive, it's your choice."
Tirion Fordring, the Dark Lady and Serz all looked at the man as if he had lost his mind.
Sylvannas laughed, high and sweet as if she were still anything of a woman as to be bossed around by gender stereotypes, "One day when you are dead and raised again, remember you said that. So many others before you have knelt before me and recanted such brashness."
"The day I am laid to rest is the day they scatter me in the river that I will never come back as Scourge."
"Fool," The Paladin scoffed at the Commander, "You bring your vast army here for the sake of taking revenge for one woman's death and all they will do is give her more guards for her Undercity when she has laid you all low." He handed the surprised Queen back her bow. Turning sharply he left saying, "I will not stick around to watch you throw yourself into her embrace."
With that he was gone. With that the Banshee Queen knocked an arrow. With the arrow landing came the first scream. One of many as the Scarlet infantry swept over the fields and forests of Tirisfal, rushing the Forsaken Queen as if she were the Light itself and reaching her was salvation.
The battle that ensued would never be written about, would never be sung about, but in the end it is a turning point for the history of Azeroth and the Scarlet Campaign. For you see, the Commander had won the day. The Dark Lady had been forced to flee, leaving behind the precious living Druid.
Serz Huzad was not as lucky. In the end he lay motionless on the ground surrounded by Scarlet Zealots who were itching for revenge at the loss of their comrade earlier. Mr. Meows, refusing to leave the undead man's side, was his only shield against so many weapons. None of the Scarlets noticed, however, that the one whom the Druid had dammed to a double existence as both living and infected… was nowhere to be seen.