Here, at Chapter 35, we reach the end of this introductory arc.

I do, eventually, plan to return to World of Warcraft. I hope that anyone who reads this story and enjoys it will join me on my next journey. I have a lot of ideas for how to reinvigorate my own little corner of the Warcraft universe, and I hope I can work them into a new story at some point in the future.

For the moment, I just want to thank you for going on this little trip with me.

I hope you enjoyed your time with Sythius and his company.

.

By the time Kin was well enough to stay awake longer than he slept, another three weeks had gone by. And even though Big Olrec had been given leave by Captain Lingham and Lady Rayne to join Sythius on his journey no matter how long it took, he was growing antsy. He didn't like leaving his boys alone against the storm for too long, and it was quickly inching up on too long.

Sythius fashioned something like a harness—well, he wore it; Sylvanne fashioned it—for the boy to ride in while they traveled, so that he wouldn't have to walk overlong and strain his still-weakened muscles while they healed. So it was that he sat, weak but leagues healthier, leaning against his master's back. He looked like a little ball of sunshine, and even Altaira admitted that he was pretty cute.

For a runt.

Sylvanne decided, eventually, that yes. She did intend to follow her brother back to Lordaeron. Anathala expressed concern, and asked if her daughter intended to inform her lord father where she was going. Sylvanne dodged the question by mentioning, offhandedly, that she might send him a letter. But they both seemed to know that it was a horrible idea to send any sort of missive to Norothain Sil'nathin. He was . . . immensely protective of his progeny.

Half of it, anyway.

It seemed to be the other half that ended up being the problem. The reason Sylvanne couldn't tell her father what she intended to do was because she'd have to admit that she was traveling with her brother. Norothain would wonder what possibly could have convinced Sylvanne to head up north, so close to Horde territory, now of all times. Especially since she'd never expressed any kind of desire to fight against the Scourge before.

She could say that her gifts were well-suited to this kind of work, or that an emissary had spoken to her and convinced her to make pilgrimage. Olrec even offered to act as that emissary, and literally recruit her to the cause, so as to avoid any chance of her losing out on credibility. But the others all seemed to believe that Norothain wouldn't be swayed or satisfied by that alone.

Kayli, in particular, was skeptical.

In short, everybody knew that Norothain needed to remain in the dark about this business.

Kayli volunteered to join her mistress, too, which prompted Altaira to note: "It's turning into a right picnic party now! Would the lady be joining the fun as well?"

But that, thankfully in Altaira's case, was completely out of the question; Anathala had taken more than enough time away from her work to help her children as it was. She couldn't afford to neglect her obligations any longer. She blessed her children, thanked Big Olrec for the wonderful company and immeasurable help, and sent them from Moonglade.

She sent a dark glare the gnome's way, seeming to warn her that if anything happened to her darlings, Altaira would be blamed for it. It didn't matter what. They could be ambushed by Sylvanas Windrunner and the Lich King, together along with a score of undead knights and a battalion of undead archers, and Anathala Sil'nathin would still string Altaira up by her toes and flay her for it.

Playing dumb may have worked on Sylvanne, Kayli, Sythius, and possibly even Olrec.

But it didn't work on Anathala.

Kayli suggested keeping Altaira's hands bound, but Sylvanne insisted that she had everything under control. The unfortunate truth, as far as Altaira could tell, was . . . she was right. Altaira still remembered how her throat had closed, against every impulse of her body, simply because the elf-maiden twitched a finger. She was young, but she was gifted.

Prodigious, even.

Not unlike her brother.

Sythius, for his part, seemed to have already forgotten that Altaira ever presented a threat at all. The other members of his little company had things under control, so he probably figured it to be a waste of time and energy to worry about it. She figured he might also think it to be an insult to their abilities if he doubted them. Regardless of motives, Sythius didn't seem like the sort of man to worry much about thinking men's problems.

Altaira usually liked dealing with people like Sythius of the Claw, but the dangerous part about this one was, unlike most bulky, big, punch-happy young men, this one had surrounded himself with other people to watch his back. He wasn't too proud to accept the help of others.

Pride was much more dangerous than a lack of intellect would ever be.

And Sythius Sil'nathin didn't seem to have much in the way of pride at all.

Altaira realized, quite early on, that she was going to have a hell of a time dealing with this group. She even wondered whether or not she would make it out of this with any kind of reputation intact. She wasn't worried that they would kill her; she'd been telling the truth when she'd told him she had no intention of killing the boy, and she had no interest in backstabbing them now.

In fact, she was much more interested in their help, if it came down to it.

Because the real threat to her life wasn't any of these people who'd already promised to bring an end to her. It was the Nameless One who was much, much more likely to kill her, if she turned out to be more trouble than she was worth.

And he had more magic in the crook of one arm than even Anathala Sil'nathin would ever have.

END.