Hello there, dear reader. I am sorry for being absent for so long. Life has been very strange and complicated. War took its toll on me, my family, and my mental health. I found solace from time to time in this story, imagining where the characters would go, and what would they do. It was - and still is - my escape. So after all this time, I've decided to publish what was left of this story and try to write still. After all, life is short, and these characters deserve their spotlight, otherwise, they will live forever in my head and my head only haha. So, without further ado, here it is - the next chapter!

Autor out

The night, despite the festivalgoer's noise, was peaceful. Stars were sprayed all across the dark sky, disturbed from time to time by the splash of fireworks. From time to time, a brave night bird would cross the air, over the heads of the party people, frantically batting its wings, losing her sense of direction as the loud sound of the crowd would disorient it.

Kyra propped her elbows on the table and cupped her head. She exhaled once more, trying to calm the relentless thumping of her rapid heartbeat. She felt her temples pulsing, a dull pain embracing them, and she frowned. Gently, she massaged her forehead in a circular motion, exhaling once more.

But all seemed futile. Millions of probable scenarios for the outcome of her action were swirling in her head, stabbing her sanity, hurrying her heartbeat even more, and planting an unpleasant tightness in her armored chest. This feeling was rising towards her forehead, making the pulsating of her temples even more painful and her – angrier.

She slammed her closed fists loudly on the table, frustration and anger rising in her very soul, gritting her teeth. There was no worse torment than waiting.

"Sister Moongaze..."

The Sentinel's low voice startled Kyra. Instinctively, she grabbed her faceguard, and in one swift, automatic motion hid her face behind it.

She looked up from her seat, fussing with the clasps of her faceguard, and her gaze met the one that uttered her name.

In front of her table, there were two Sentinels, a tall blue-haired, thin female and another, slightly shorter, more of an athletic build, silver-haired soldier. Both of them head to toe clad in armor, their backs straight, hands on their swords. The gear that they were wearing was no parade uniform, it was battle armor – a clear sign that Tyrande did not take her security lightly. Their eyes were looking slightly over Kyra's head, because their chin was a bit too high, to appear composed and menacing.

Kyra smiled, honestly amused. Their stance was slightly wrong. But they were trying their best, so this effort was at least commendable. They were keeping their composure, trying to stay true to their rank, with the sole purpose of being intimidating. It did not work on the warrior, but she commended their effort.

"Sister Moongaze" the Blue haired sentinel repeated. "Mistress Tyrande wants to see you. If you would be so kind and follow me, please" she motioned towards the back of the stage.

Kyra puffed and quickly rose up, making the silver-haired sentinel take a step back, defensively grabbing her weapon. The warrior rolled her eyes at the sentinel's reaction.

"If I wanted to attack you, you would be dead". Kyra said clamly, making sure to emphasyse every word.

The silver-haired sentinel frowned, and under the scolding gaze of her blue-haired companion, came back slowly, reluctantly to her original, stern stance and nodded.

Kyra smiled and bowed her head towards the pair.

"Lead the way" she smiled at the blue-haired elf.

The sentinels bowed their heads in response, as it was custom, and quickly turning on their heels motioned her to follow.

She did not remember how she got to Tyrande's tent. Everyone was so happy, everyone forgot the dangers that were looming in the shadows, the blood some spilled for them to dance and get dunk. She hated it. Overwhelmed by her thoughts, mumbling under her breath from time to time curses toward the annoyingly happy crowd, Kyra nearly jumped when a voice pulled her out of her thoughts.

"I'll have to ask you to leave your weapons with me."

Kyra looked at the guard that spoke. It was a tall night elf woman, that was standing in front of Tyrande's tent. The woman was wearing battle armor, and over it – a tabard that set her apart from a mere sentinel. Steel, pointy helmet, covered the upper half of her face, making her gaze look more menacing than it should. She was one of Tyrande's most trusted bodyguards, a devoted fanatic who could rip anyone's throat open if they dared to take a wrong step towards the Priestess.

Kyra did not want to give up her weapons but knew she had to. The warrior understood the importance of safety for their leader, the attention to detail that the ones she employed to guard her meticulously enforced onto everyone, but giving up her weapons made her feel weak. She wasn't absurd though, so with a silent grunt, she unsheathed her swords and handed them to the tall guard.

"Take good care of them..." she added in a menacing tone.

The tall bodyguard nodded in response, took her swords, and passed them to the other guard, which was quick to disappear with them in the smaller hut next to the grand tent.

"Your backpack as well."

This phrase made her frown. The lack of trust towards her was not new, but it still stung unpleasantly. Biting her lip, she exhaled loudly and obeyed. She slowly got her bag off her back and handed it to the guards. The same guard was quick to make herself useful, taking her belongings.

"I have to search you as well."

"Come on..." she mumbled and defiantly spread her arms and legs and motioned the sentinel to proceed with her task. The guards quickly started to pat at her shoulders, hands, arms, waist, and legs, all the time concentrated on her job, not even flinching patiently examining every possible hiding place for a weapon. She quickly rose to her full height and assumed her stern stance once more, propping herself between the warrior and the entrance to the tent.

"All clear," she exclaimed in a steady tone.

Kyra took a step forward, but the guard planted a steady hand on her chest, stopping her.

"I have to remind you to behave in front of the Priestess, as this is a rare occasion that you are presented with. The slightest slip up from your side will result in severe punishment or even death. Are we clear?"

At this point, Kyra was barely holding herself together. She was getting more and more annoyed as time passed. She wanted to punch the soldier so hard, her knuckles turned white. She exhaled once more loudly and nodded in agreement.

"Proceed" the guard added in an even, emotionless tone, and opened the tent flap, gesturing towards her to enter.

The inside of the structure looked more like a miniature temple than a simple tent erected for the sole purpose of a roof placeholder. It was half dark in there, mimicking the evening outside. Candles were set on different benches on both sides of the walls, lighting the room with their amber, pleasant, and somewhat mysterious glow. Rich fabrics, purple and deep blue were sprawled lavishly on the ground, alongside a useless number of cushions and velvet floor pillows. Fresh blossom garlands were adorning the concave ceiling, flowing downwards from place to place, like a flower rain. The smell of fragrant incense was filling the air, making the warrior dizzy and slightly nauseous. There was a slight tingling of protective magic in the room, no doubt to shield its inhabitants of any use of harmful magic.

The entire decor screamed royalty and importance, simultaneously feeling outdated, fake, and stuck in time. Somewhere in the world, there was a war, life and death were fighting for supremacy, soldiers were dying and here people were celebrating and pretending that flowers bloomed only for them.

As the warrior's eyes adjusted to the dim-lit tent, she could clearly distinguish Tyrande's flame slouched over a large table positioned at the back of the room. She sat strategically facing the entrance, her eyes looming over some scrolls that she had in front of her. She seemed unaware of Kyra's presence, but the warrior knew that nothing escaped the Priestess's attention.

"Moongaze. I'm glad you could come. Sit" Tyrande's calm voice echoed through the empty chamber, her hand extended towards the seat that was in front of her, on the opposite side of the table. She never looked up from her table, but Kyra was sure she knew well before the warrior entered what to say and to whom.

Kyra slowly approached a painful lump forming in her throat, making it extremely hard to breathe. She swallowed loudly, and a warm nauseating feeling washed over her at an enormous speed, making her dizzy. Cold sweat covered her skin in an instant, and she felt that she could throw up. The warrior did not know if it was the incense smell, the darkness, or her encounter with the priestess that was the cause of it. All she knew was that she was about to be sick. She felt her heart racing faster and faster, and without losing any second, she plopped herself into the chair in front of the Priestess.

Sitting down made her feel better, even if it was a small improvement. She must've sat pretty loud, because Tyrande looked directly at her, arching a brow.

"Are you alright?" the Priestess asked.

Her tone was not at all concerned, mostly formal, a nuance to be expected from a leader. Kyra nodded in response

"I am glad" Tyrande nodded with a trained, diplomatic smile. She lay back, resting on the backboard of the chair, and with her arms crossed over her chest shot the warrior a questioning look.

"So, what is your proposition, Moongaze?"

Kyra locked her eyes with her leader. It was hard to properly see the outline of her face in this dim light, but the challenge of upholding this starring contest brought a welcomed seriousness to their situation. The warrior decided long before coming here that she would behave and would try not to get into a fight or punch anyone. But she will also not be silent. She will maintain her composure. She will say her peace of mind. Diplomatically, of course. Respectfully, no doubt. But she knew she would never get a second chance to do so. She inhaled.

"Priestess, I have given it a lot of thought, as you suggested." She started, her voice was slightly raspy from the dry air in the tent but steady and sure. " You said I need to do a grand gesture. So I've decided. I am giving up my house to be transformed into a facility for war survivors."

The Priestess brows rose on her forehead in surprise, and she nodded, content at the answer.

"I have already spoken with the fisherwoman that takes care of her brother, one of the few soldiers that survived the war of the Shifting Sands. She will be in charge of it, and any others that she would see fit to help her. Right now, it's her home."

The Priestess's surprised expression slowly turned suspicious and concerned. She scanned Kyra's face, looking for anything that might betray the very thing she was suspecting. Tyrande did not trust her fully, nor she would ever, no matter the effort that the warrior would put in.

"That is very noble of you, Moongaze. And it is, indeed a grand gesture and a sacrifice." she started in a low tone. " But may I ask you, where would you live?" her eyes narrowed and she slowly slouched over the table, closing the distance between them.

Kyra's heart was beating in her chest like a trapped bird. Thumping frantically, it felt like it would rip open her ribcage and armor and jump on the table to die there. She swallowed once more and clenched her fists under the table.

"Anywhere but here..."

Her words sounded harsher than she wanted them to sound, making Tyrande's expression darken. She leaned back on her chair, arms still crossed over her chest, her mind roaming. She started lightly tapping her foot on the ground, and being known for the short amount of patience she possessed, stayed true to her traits and quickly rose, pacing around the room.

Kyra rose as well, prepared for whatever hurricane of insults was prepared to fly her way. Instead, a short and cutting word made her freeze.

"Sit!" Tyrande spat

Kyra had no intention to sit. She simply stood tall, on her strong legs, her jaw clenched, fists firm on her sides.

"No." she hissed through her teeth

"I am not your pet" she added in a low voice.

Tyrande froze. She stood there, dumbfounded, looking at the stoic warrior who refused to obey her direct order. Her gaze darkened, and a smirk appeared on her full lips, an unusual one, that sent shivers down Kyra's spine.

"How dare you, Moongaze...How dare you?" Tyrande spat, getting dangerously close to Kyra. The warrior sensed the magic emanating from the priestess's anger in the air. One wrong step and she could be turned into a smoldering corpse.

But she did not care this time. She planted her shaking feet firmly on the ground. In that split second, she felt like her own frame was filling some void that was meant to be filled for a very long time, and before she knew it, words started cascading from her mouth.

"I dare, Priestess because I have the right to do so! I earned it! I chose my own fate in Outland, after serving my people for more years than I can count. Many did so, but I was the only one that was punished for it. Why is that? I came back, thanks to your meddling, only to be demoted to a mere guard, awaiting my sentence, living every day in fear and being consumed by hatred." Kyra's voice was more than a whisper, the words hurting her throat, as a lump was forming there once more.

"For what? " she continued "For not remaining with that murderer, Maiev? The one that left you for dead? The one that you now welcomed into our ranks? Not long ago, if you remember, I saved your life, Priestess, without thinking twice I went after you in that cultist-infected realm. You got there, because of your own reckless decision, and even after saving you, I still have to give up more? I gave up everything for you, for our people, and got nothing in return! So, I think I have the right to stand when you say "sit", Priestess"

Her breath was ragged, her throat sore from trying to keep her voice as low as possible to not alert the guards. Her chest was moving up and down, anger and frustration made her body slightly shake and she exhaled.

Tyrande expression was stern, albeit you could see the slight shock underneath it. She simply shook her head and plopped herself back in her chair.

"You forgot, Priestess..." Kyra added in a low tone, her voice trembling " You forgot what it means to be a soldier when you became a leader. Power is a tricky mind twister..."

Tyrande scoffed and clicked her tongue. She averted her gaze from Kyra, contemplating the flowers on the ceiling, waiving her hand in a dismissive gesture towards the warrior.

"You truly are who they say you are..." she smiled and shook her head.

Painful silence crawled between them.

Small fireflies were floating in the air, a light gust of wind shifting their trajectories.

The scene looked serene and menacing at the same time.

Despite her stoic demeanor from earlier, Kyra was still shaking and waiting for a response. She did not turn to ash, which was somewhat of a good sign in a way. But this silence was way more dangerous and scary.

"You know why I brought you back?" Tyrande started, her icy gaze fixating coldly on Kyra's eyes. Without waiting for a response she continued

"Because you were an exceptional fighter. Tales of your deeds reached Azeroth but were shadowed by your treason. The folk admired you but hated you as well. I thought, bringing you back would change that. You would apologize to our people, make amends, and become something you were always meant to be. A successor of your family heritage, a true legend. Instead, you chose to become this anger ball that snapped at everyone and expressed her hate for everything."

Tyrande scoffed

" I'm not ashamed to admit, I started to regret my decision. I gave up on you. But, when you saved my life, I saw that person I was trying to save. So I've decided to give you another chance, this time on your terms. I might've been wrong this whole time." she exhaled, her voice sounded tired.

Kyra shifted uncomfortably.

"I meant no disrespect, Priestess…"

"Oh, spare me..." the Priestess waved one hand, dismissively, taking the warrior by surprise with her bluntness and lack of restrain.

"You have no idea how difficult it is to lead our people. To please everyone, to listen to every plea, every request, to bear the burden of our losses on my shoulders, to make the right decisions. You come here, parading your` truth like a battle banner, hoping I would agree with you..." her gaze turned almost scolding towards the warrior

" I gave you a chance. More than I would give any other common folk. This is not a negotiation. And I will not be blackmailed."

Kyra nodded.

" I've said my piece, Priestess. You can choose to pardon me or not. Tomorrow I will not be here anymore. I've taken care of the papers, the house is rightfully owned by the two brothers... "

Tyrande smiled bitterly, and once more shook her head, seemingly not believing her ears.

"So you are running off again?"

"No, Priestess. This time I am leaving"

Tyrande averted her eyes and once more lowered her gaze toward the scrolls on the table. Her voice sounded like winter winds, cold, merciless, biting.

"Do as you wish, Moongaze. You are not my concern anymore. Many others can take your place. Dismissed."

Kyra bowed shortly, turned on her heels, and quickly exited the tent.

Once the warrior was out of sight, Tyrande let out a loud exhale and cupped her temples with her palms. Lightly, she started massaging her forehead to erase the previous encounter. Politics required a strong stomach. And feelings can make someone weak. She took a shaky inhale and slowly returned to her stoic demeanor.