~* Author's Notes *~
I'm kinda rushing through these next several chapters for the sake of getting away from this epic battle I wrote myself into. I'm being stubbornly true to my original outline and using this battle to weave together all the threads I spent several chapters laying out. Unfortunately this makes for a bit of stunted writing here and there. If I ever rewrite this I intend to cut out a great many of those details I added but are not godly important to the main character's story.
~*~ Chapter 58 ~*~
The Dark Lady found exactly what she was looking for in the back corner of the compound where Sernamehere and the RazorWing were attempting to keep two of the spell-caster Scourge and a handful of walking horrors from killing the living children. Their matron lay dead, crushed under hoof by one of the shadow mages. The cries of the children drew an equally loud cry from the Banshee Queen.
The Commander was awed seeing the former Ranger General put herself between hoof and spell to protect the lives of living children. Especially when she was not known for her sympathy towards the living. At least not to the Scarlets. He decided that Nekov was quite capable of watching the Druid and wen to help rescue his lay-persons. He met Salira halfway there, having reappeared from wherever she had vanished during the battle. Two new black glowing Scourge-wrought axes swung from her hips, but her helmet was gone. Graying brown hair no longer had a binding and struck a path down her armor halfway to her plate clad utility belt. Both of them stood side-by-side-by-side-by side with the Banshee Queen and Sernamehere as a wall between the Scourge and Loarderon's last generation.
Kayas turned back to Mr. Meows when the fighting took combatants across her field of vision. The awe-inspiring sight of Scarlet and Forsaken working side-by-side remained in her head. Over the last week of being their prisoner she learned a lot about their determination to rid the world of the undead, and a lot more about their many hurdles. Not one amongst them believed the Light would not see them triumphant someday. Not one amongst them ever though that prayer would be answered in the form an undead elf with hidden agendas.
Lost in her revery for a second she was nearly knocked over as Nekov sprang forward to attack a Scourge headed for Salira. Both warriors took down the legless corpse easily. The Dark Lady bough up the rear of a group which consisted of adult fighters on the outside, RazorWing and Frostfire on the inside and in the middle the children. Any and all living civilians were either engaged in battle, dead or dying. Even the old muffins were in arms, beating rotting bodies to pieces with cane and boot.
They were headed for the open gate. The Dark Lady orders her troops to let them pass. Salira takes the hand of one of the living children as she rejoins the group. They gather around her and wait for an opening in the fighting.
"Before you leave, dearest Salira: a gift." The Banshee Queen wrests a shield from one of her fallen foot soldiers and holds it out to the startled Scarlet warrior. Stuttering surprise, the woman would rather be handed live spiders than gifted a piece of Forsaken armor by the Banshee Queen. The glowing green L of Loarderon decorated the back of the shield, painted in evanescent plague green on top of Forsaken purple and silver. It was hideous. Slowly she reached out and took it, dropping one of her Scourge-wrought axes on the ground for whoever came across it
Turning sharply Salira makes a break for it, children in tow. The Banshee Queen and her minions guard their rear as they escape into the darkness.
"There's still a Death Knight out there!" Kayas yelled after Salira, trying to chase her through the black hole in the wall. Nekov and the Commander both grab her at the same time, appearing from no where.
The red eyes of the Dark Lady land on her, sneering, "She can handle herself."
"She's not near the best of my fighters," the Commander argued, "And a bunch of children?"
The Dark Lady rounded on the commander so quickly he let go of the druid and took a step back. Though the high elves were not taller than the average human, this one certainly had been tall for a high elf. She stood over him, looking down. "Don't let what you want to see in your underlings blind you to their real skills. Ms. Porter has been far underutilized by the Scarlets."
She's half deaf! How can she-"
"No, she isn't." Michael was wresting an arrow out of his armor. Apparently the Scarlet archer had become jumpy, shooting at any undead thing which got near him. The dull metal head was buried between between two miss-matched pieces of armor and he tugged at hit, twisting this way and that as he corrected the Scarlet Commander, "She needed some way to make it known she wasn't hearing us calling to her without outright telling you we weren't. You assumed it and she let you."
"That's sharing." The gentleness of the Dark Lady's voice once again caught the Scarlet Commander off-guard. Once before she had reprimanded the undead guild master for not guarding his knowledge.
The Commander's look darkened as he started down the child before him. "What did she give you in exchange for letting her be?"
For a full several seconds the undead and the Commander stared each other down. Finally Michael's said, "She killed a Death Knight, did you know? At the Overlook about ten years ago. I saw it. Nasty fella."
The Dark Lady gave a dark smile when the Commander looked surprised to hear that. He had no idea any of his people had slain Death Knights, let alone that one.
Leaving the flabbergasted Commander and Michael to their starting contest the Banshee Queen makes her way back to the dark feline. The druid and Nekov follow.
"How is our patient?" The Scout had the great cat's head in his lap, petting his large muzzle and scratching under his chin. It was the only way to get the beast not to lick the wound. The Dark Lady kneels down, shoos the Scout away and takes the position herself. Her face softens, hands relax and breath comes out as she and the feline focus on each other. There is a coo and a sigh and purr and a pat. Back and forth it goes-
"He's yours?" The sudden realization washes through the Druid like ice water under her skin; the hairs raise and her knees turn numb. Nekov is confused. Serz looks alarmed, checking to see who all overheard. The Scout huffs out a laugh as if to say, See, there are some things I know that you do not. The druid moves closer, eyes wide as she realizes what should have been plain and apparent form the beginning. "He belongs to you?"
For a long moment the Dark Lady is still, though she doesn't stop scratching the doting feline's chin. Finally she looks up, the red of her eyes somewhat diminished in memories. "Yes. He was mine. Is." A big paw wraps around her whole waist, drawing her in so much she is leaning into him. An arm goes around his neck, then the other. They embrace. The druid can no longer tell who is purring.
A deep inhale and exhale and the druid puts it together, "Because you're a Ranger from Silvermoon - the Ranger from Silvermoon - of course you would have had a fighting companion. Oh, Elune, I'm so ignorant!" She groans, turns in a tight circle and then stops. "Of course, it all makes sense now! Why else would a living animal like this be in an Elune-forsaken place like this?"
"Because," the Dark Lady says, "we are the Forsaken. Where else would we be?"
"But I don't understand how he can be yours. No offense intended, but you're undead. The priest said there was one undead who had-"
The Dark Lady and Serz Huzad spoke at the same time - "We don't talk about that-" "He read my book!" Kayas brows furrowed but the look the Dark Lady shot the unfortunate warlock had the man inching away slowly.
The Dark Lady laughed harshly. "It is too much for your Druid's mind to wrap around how ranger-companion relationships work. Don't try. Mel'ody is still mine. Nothing can change that." The Scout shifted uncomfortable, pretended to be fixated on some target in the distance. The Dark Lady's voice softened, "Arthas did not kill him when he killed me and that is the only mercy I have ever seen him show. Whatever possessed him to do it, I thank him every day.(2)"
Kayas choked back emotions, "How can it not be a mercy? He's alive."
"Yes, he is. But I am not. Undead cannot be bonded to living animals. Not ones which are not infected and undead themselves. (1) It is not his fault, but he serves ever to remind me of what I lost. What joy is there in this curse of undeath when the very being who holds my heart still lives?"
A heavy silence settled over the onlookers. Kayas asked softly, "Why do you call him Mel'ody and by others he is called-"
"Do not say that ridiculous name in my presence. I forbid it!" Mr. Meows let forth a disgruntled croon as the Scout winced and edged away towards his father. The dark Lady was forced to lower her voice in order to keep the big cat stationary. The bleeding had stopped but suddenly moving might reopen the wound. "His name is Mel'ody" she said with conviction, looking ever much a Queen, even with the big cat in her lap. Her voice went soft, mournful, "He used to talk allot. He doesn't anymore."
"Recently stopped, in fact." The Scout had his eye on some target a ways off, bow drawn. He traced it, let go and stood till a metallic thunk indicated the arrow landed. And the screaming, which was a good indication of whom it landed it.
The annoyed Queen look up at him, "Most likely you aren't feeding him properly. "
The stiff-spines Scount glared and opened his mouth to respond when a hold, undead hand pulled him back a step. "Perhaps now is not the time to discuss feline diets. We have a battle to win, my Lady." The Scout shook out of Serz grip and went to find things to put arrows through. His fist target was a tall, undead woman riding a rotting horse. That one will do.
As the underaged elf left the circle of bodies the cat tried to follow him and needed to be wrestled to the ground. His wound reopened and many yowls latter five sets of hands were attempting to hold him still so the druid could work her paltry healing magic on him. Her magic did not work well on cats and the energy from the bandages was spent. It took her several minutes to get the bleeding to stop, hot clots of blood stuck to the thick fur of her patent and mixing with the yuck on the ground.
In the middle of it the Quel'dorie child finds her Queen to deliver yet another report from the battle. The undead woman is trying to hold one paw away from the druid and the head in her lap as the elfin child is talking, "Ma'am! The fire is burning through this section now and if we don't divert mages to get it under control we've got minutes before it gets to this spot." The Banshee Queen looked down at the unmovable cat and back up at the child. She issued orders to do just that. The child went on, "Michael and the RazorWing had exited the compound in a search party looking for additional Scourge troops." The Banshee Queen nodded to hear it, giving approval. "Lastly, ma'am, we need healers for the living. The ones who are dying are raising as undead. Most of them are not infected so my belief is that necromancer must be doing it. I also believe she's waiting outside for one of the low elves to make a run for it so she can get what she came for."
Low elf? Who are you calling a low elf?! The Druid took her hands away from the panther and puts palms to the ground, sending out her spirit in search of Elune's healing flame deep in the Earth. The cat would need more healing than she and her bandages were capable of doing.
"There are enough priests here who wield the Light to do this work. Find one of them to do it."
The untainted earth under the druid sang to her, exchanging used energy for restoring, healing energy, releasing the way and allowing her to go deeper and deeper.
"They are exhausted or destroyed, my Queen."
Kayas leaned into the flanks of the cat, allowing the bend of his back leg to cradle her as she rested against the earth. Pulling back on her soul she brings with it the healing energies of the earth and sinks them into the cat's body, allowing his own spirit to decide where to give the energy to best heal his body. Green tendrils of natural magic swirl over him, around joints and weaving through his tail and armor.
"Even white-"
"Yes, even that bitch from the Monastery."
Kayas eyes snapped wide from a half-open daze, realizing the potential in what she just did. "I can do it." Pushing away from the feline she was rewarded with five answers to the negative to whatever plan she just concocted. Ignoring them she strode forward, each step sinking her center of being back into the earth, deeper than before, connecting with the power that lay under the tainted land of Tirisfal Glades.
Tunnel vision took her sight down to one spot in the middle of the fighting. The world receded from a bloody massacre filled with emotions she could not help but feel down to focusing on a single heartbeat. She focused on that heartbeat, each thump sending her deeper and deeper to the earth. Each thump made her less flesh and bone and more a being of nature – a true Druid.
Though she knew it not her guardians, both self-appointed and official, fought hard to keep danger away from their precious druid. She made the dorie seeds and she healed Nekov and once a long time ago she was handed an idol by a Highbourn lady as payment for sending some of her ancestors into the ether. That idol sat in her dresser at home. However it was soul-bound to her spirit and at least part of it's power could be reached no matter where she was.
Sinking further and further into the ground she felt the fiery core of the earth, the wild heat of the Goddess' unbridled flame. Grasping that power, grasping that flame, she brought it upward, upward, upward to the surface of the earth. Through the layers of the earth it transmuted, turning from unshaped energy into cooling, restoring power. It broke the surface, singing in her ears a song of healing. It broke the surface, rushing up through her body and outward into the air. The very ground lends it's life to her spell.
A tranquil peace befalls the battle. Every fight stops. The enemies and the allies stand near enough to strike but neither can move watching the awesome power of Elune the Restorer sucking strait out of the ground. The uncontrolled spell hits everyone and everything, though only those who are free-willed benefit from the effect. This one programing on the spell is the only demand the druid puts on the magic. The wounded soak in healing energy. Vines climb up out of the earth, licking with fire at first but soothed to soft greens in seconds. They wind upwards and outwards, grasping those who need healing. The spell peaks for several seconds, and then falls. The remaining energy rushes back into the earth, back to it's Mother. The open wounds knit and the bleeding stops. The broken bones mend and the pulped flesh heals.
The word rushing back instantly and she topples, heady with the rush of that much energy. Someone catches her before she hits the ground but her feet quickly find their own purchase. The Scout looks both frightened and awed. Slowly he releases her body, though the last to let go is his hand. The thumb runs over the back of one wrist and she looks down. The wooden complexion of her skin is almost finished fading. Her eyes snap up, wide with wonder. Only the most accomplished of Elune's druids were able to take on the Tree of Life form (3). So rare were these that they often had fill guilds assigned to keep them safe during combat. Not unlike the Razorwing.
"How did you do that?" His voice is soft, wondering. She feels his breath on her cheek as he speaks.
"It... was easy. This idol I was given in Feralas -"
A voice breaks the silence, ordering the Scourge troops to attack. It is the Death Knight, once again perched on top of the walls. In the distance, between the smoke and night, the druid can only make out the rogue shape of armor, blood and spikes of a helmet. It is the Death Knight, perched on the wall once more, surveying the battle. His voice rings with strength:
"Focus the healer!"
Every Scourge eye turns towards the little Druid. Screaming their battle cries they rush in.
~End Notes ~
1). This scene was already written long before Blizz ever decided to give undead the ability to be hunters. Remember, this is set back in early,early BC and even if you follow lore to it's present state they still would not have been able to train pets at this point still.
2). I just finished writing the side story "Of Death Knight's and Necromancers" (working title), in which the answer to Sylvanas' pondering is revealed.
3). Old-School tranquility used to be a 40 man raid's "I win" button on a 12 minute CD. Now gray level npc have 2 minute, single-target tranquility and that just takes all the magic out of this once awe-inspiring spell.