Hytharion cried out in terror as Kamara dove through the air, barely managing to hold on as she did a twirl. "Sorry!" she shouted over the wind, glancing back at him as she steadied herself. "I haven't had the chance to really stretch my wings in a while, and I've never carried someone before." She chuckled as he clung to her neck, his body flat, his nails desperately digging into her scales. "We're almost there," she assured him. "We're still in... what do they call it, Ashenvale? I can see Teldrassil from here, though." With a gulp, Hytharion peaked down to look at the thick, colourful forest below but was forced to look away before he threw up. Reluctantly raising his body just enough to look up, he spotted Teldrassil in the distance, the magnificent home of the night elves. It was almost beautiful enough to distract him from where he was. Feeling like he was about to be blown off if he sat up too high, he flattened himself again.
"Darkshore, dead ahead!" she called several minutes later. She growled, the sound rumbling in his chest.
"Something wrong?" he shouted over the wind.
"I smell smoke... and death," she replied warily. Sure enough, as they approached Darkshore, Hytharion looked up and saw smoke rising in the distance. As they began flying over the forest, she looked around. "I'll drop you off as soon as there's a clearing. Too many trees," she muttered. "Nowhere good to land..."
Hytharion heard a loud screech. He looked to his right just in time to see a night elf coming at them with a sword, his hippogryph mount's talons outstretched. He could have sworn he felt the slight touch of one of the creature's claws in his hair as Kamara folded her wings and dropped just in time. As she evened out, several other night elves on their mounts came from seemingly nowhere. Kamara was forced to duck and dodge as they attempted to slash at her with their weapons. She roared and shot magic in their general direction in an attempt to scare them away, but they were undeterred, and Hytharion's attempts to tell them they meant no harm were drowned out by the wind. He cautiously stood up on her back. Taking a moment to steady himself, he concentrated and thrust his hands out as he let loose an arcane explosion. Two of the closest hippogyphs were blasted back and the deer-like creatures had to rapidly flap their wings to keep themselves aloft. One of the riders managed to hold on, but the other wasn't so fortunate. He began falling, and Hytharion quickly cast a slow fall spell before the night elf fell through the trees. Another went for him, and as she came at him, he transformed her into a sheep. She bleated in terror as she began falling, but he cast a slow fall on her as well before turning his attention to another. He heard another screech, though this one didn't sound like a hippogryph. He looked just in time to see a huge bird coming at him, talons outstretched.
He ducked as it attempted to grab him, but doing so caused him to lose his balance. He fell and managed to grab onto Kamara's foreleg, digging his nails into her scales as he clung for dear life. "Hold on!" she cried. She tried to help him up, but it was no use. The scales he clung to tore, and he was sent flying. "HYTHARION!" he heard Kamara roar.
He fell through the canopy. He grabbed hold of a branch, crying out in pain as his shoulders were jarred and the bark cut into his hand. He couldn't see what was happening but heard roars, screeches and shouting above him. Clenching his teeth against the pain, he tried to pull himself up, but the branch snapped, and he cried out in terror as he fell through the tree.
Hytharion groaned as he opened his eyes, blinking dizzily. Shaking his pounding head, he slowly managed to sit up. Feeling something wet running down his cheek, he touched it and looked at the blood that came away on his finger. He followed the blood trail, wincing as he found the source, a small gash across his left brow. He grabbed his glasses that sat a few feet away and put them back on, frowning at the large crack in one of the lenses. What happened...? Shouting from above finally jogged his memory. Kamara! He looked up but could see nothing and no longer heard Kamara's roars. How long was I out? He looked around, but she was nowhere in sight. "Kamara?" he called out softly. "Kamara, where are you?" There was the sound of something bursting through the canopy above him followed by a loud screech, and he rolled out of the way a split second before the bird's razor-sharp talons sank into his head. It screeched in frustration as it tried to free its talons from the earth. He managed to stand but quickly fell again as he tried to take a step. His prosthetic foot had gotten bent. Shit!
As he went to attempt to fix it, he heard a growl that made his hair stand up. He slowly looked up at where the bird had been, but it was no longer a bird. What had taken its place was a black-furred, sabre-toothed cat that glared at him with faintly glowing violet eyes, its fangs bared. "I don't want to hurt you. Don't do this." As the cat began to stalk towards him, he tried to scramble away. The cat snarled and leapt on him. She scratched and clawed, but luckily his armour protected him. He punched the cat in the nose as hard as he could. She snarled in pain and rubbed at it with her paw, giving him enough time to get to his feet once more. "Falor zaram." A blade made of ice appeared in his right hand, and a ball of fire appeared in his left as he muttered, "Felo." The cat looked up at him once more and narrowed her eyes as she began to circle him. Stepping carefully, he followed her, never taking his eye off her.
"I don't want to fight. I'm not here for trouble. Don't make me hurt you," he warned. The cat let out a snort of derision before charging at him again. He threw the fireball, but she just barely managed to dodge it in time before she leapt at him. He slashed his sword as she was nearly upon him, and there was a spray of blood as she was sent to the ground. His hopes of that being the end of the fight were quickly extinguished as the cat slowly stood, groaning, and looked back at him, one eye slashed. She charged once more. He threw a quick icicle at her, but she only batted it away with a paw. She pounced again, but he slid under her. He managed to dodge a few more, but finally, she caught him off guard and leapt on him, easily pinning him under her greater weight. His sword was sent flying as she swiped it away and then bit down on his prosthetic hand. He tried to push her off and struggled to free his arm from her jaws, but it was no use. She tore it off and spat it out.
She bit down hard on his other arm as he brought it up to protect his throat. He grunted in pain as he pushed back. The armour protected his flesh from damage, but the pressure of her jaws threatened to break his arm. Praying he recalled the words of the spell he'd learned earlier correctly, he mustered as much magical strength as he could and ripped his arm out of her jaws before putting his hand to her chest "Thori shindu melorn!" An immense blast of Arcane magic erupted from his hand, and she was sent flying away. She hit a tree, and he heard a loud cracking noise before her roar of pain. He leapt to his feet, somewhat proud of himself for a moment, but he couldn't dwell on that. He started hobbling away, hoping he could find a hiding place and fix his foot before the cat recovered. He heard a snarl and looked back. It hadn't taken as long for her to recover as he had hoped, and she stalked toward him, filled with determination. He froze her feet to the ground, but that didn't stop her for long either. She broke free and raced toward him. He tried to run but didn't make it far before he fell again. Thinking fast, he conjured another weapon as she pounced at him.
She let out an agonized roar as she landed on the sword, and he grunted in pain as the impact jarred his shoulder. She stumbled off of him but didn't get far before she collapsed, whimpering as she tried to drag herself away. He lay there panting for a moment, struggling to catch his breath, his heart racing. Despite his exhaustion, he leapt to his feet once more, a fireball ready in his hand as the whimpering of the cat turned into the voice of a woman. He stared down at the druid, who had shifted back into her true form, a night elf with long green hair. Her golden eyes were surrounded by violet tattoos. Her leather armour was varying shades of green and brown, and she wore a tabard he didn't recognize, also brown with a green tree at its centre. With great effort, she managed to drag herself to a nearby tree and leaned against it. She looked down at the wound just below her ribs. Blood poured from it, darkening her tabard. Hytharion grimaced. "Eranu shanal. You gave me no choice."
She chuckled a little, cringing and hissing at the pain it caused as she put her hand to the wound. She let out a small gasp as she pressed down. Blood spurted from between her fingers. "If that was an apology, then s-save it," she spat. "Horde s-scum... If you're going to kill me, get it over with."
"No. I don't want to kill you," he told her. "That's not what I came here to do."
"Ah, so y-you're going to leave me h-here to die, then?"
"No! Your death was-" He let out a frustrated sigh. Arguing with her will just waste more time. "Can you heal yourself?"
Eyeing him warily for several moments, she looked down. A soft green glow surrounded her fingers, but it seemed to do little. "No. Healing was never my specialty..." She let out a heavy sigh. "My name is Taelara. Please... tell the Cenarion Circle I'm sorry." He watched her for a few moments as he wrestled with his conscience. He knew he should leave her. It would be the smart thing to do. He couldn't bring himself to just let her die, though. He went to her and knelt. She looked on the verge of passing out as she glared at him. "Let me die in - ngh - peace," she growled as she tried to adjust herself.
He shook his head and conjured a flame that he concentrated on his fingers. "This is going to hurt," he warned.
"Torture?" She chuckled weakly as she coughed. "Silly of me to think the Horde above that. Do your worst, sin'dorei. I went through worse with the Legion."
"No. Not torture." He put his fingers to the wound, grimacing at the sound of sizzling flesh. The night elf squirmed and cried in pain but was too weak to fight back. He cringed, her cries reminding him of his own torture, but he forced himself to continue. After several moments, the bleeding started to slow.
"I know it hurts. I'm sorry, but you have to turn around so I can cauterize the other side."
She looked down at the wound and then back at him suspiciously. "Why are you helping me?"
"It doesn't matter. Now turn around. I can't do anything about any internal injuries, but if I can slow enough bleeding, you might get to live another day."
Narrowing her eyes at him suspiciously, she reluctantly leaned forward just enough for him to do the same to the wound in her back. As the bleeding there slowed as well, she leaned back against the tree again. "Thank you..."
As he stood and wiped his hand off on his shirt, he heard rustling in the bushes behind him. He spun, a fireball ready in his hand. A few seconds later, Kamara burst through the brush, panting. Half of her right horn was broken. Her face was scratched, her ears bloody and tattered, and a wound in her side was darkening her azure robes.
"Kamara!" He hobbled over to her as she bent over, out of breath.
"The Horde has a dragon now?" the druid muttered.
"Agh... It's okay," she assured him as he inspected the wound. It's not as deep as it looks. I- By the Aspects!" she gasped as she saw the druid. "Hythe, what happened?"
"She attacked me," he panted as he wiped the sweat and dirt from his forehead. "I-" They looked up as they heard voices nearby. Listening closely, it almost sounded like Thalassian, but he could make out a few telltale words that marked it as Darnassian instead. Looking back at the druid, he panicked slightly as he saw that she was slumped over. He went to her and felt her pulse.
He heard Kamara's steps behind him. "Is she...?"
"No, not yet at least. Those night elves sound close, though. I need to get out of here. Could you help me look for my bag?" he asked, at last realizing it was missing. She nodded and began looking around. He went to his prosthetic lying nearby, but it was unfortunately too damaged to be of any use. Searching elsewhere, he was dismayed to find several broken bottles, the liquid they used to contain slowly seeping into the earth.
"Is that it up there?" Hytharion looked to Kamara and then followed her gaze to the branches of a tree above. His satchel hung from a branch, upside down and wide open. He teleported it down to him and panickedly dug through it, relieved when he finally found the carving safe in the secure pocket he put it in.
He looked toward the voices in the distance as he noticed them growing quieter. They sounded like they were going in the opposite direction now. That was good for him, but as he went and felt the druid's weakening pulse again, he knew it would not be good for her. Staring down at his hand for a long moment, he cursed himself as he whipped an icicle at a nearby tree. It shattered like glass, the sound echoing through the forest. "Hytharion!" Kamara hissed harshly. "What the hell are you doing?"
"She isn't going to last much longer without help, and I can't just let her die. Now get out of here."
She looked conflicted as she glanced from the unconscious druid back to him. "I would help you if I could. Please, Hythe, be careful. I'll let Delania know you got here in one piece." She glanced at the broken hand lying nearby. "Mostly in one piece." She took on her true form again, and he grimaced at several bloody slices in the membrane of her right wing and the wound in her side. She let out a low, rumbling growl before leaping into the sky, flying slowly but surely up and through the broken canopy. He started running as best he could with his bent foot and began looking around for somewhere to hide. He looked up at the trees and spotted one with thick branches that would likely hold his weight. He teleported up to the highest branch he could and then climbed up a little higher through the leaves. An agitated chipmunk further up chittered at him, and he suppressed a shout of alarm as he flicked away some sort of beetle that had started crawling up his chest.
He leaned back against the tree trunk, cringing in pain. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, he could feel that he had broken, or at least badly bruised, a few ribs in the fall. Both the gash on his brow and his injured hand throbbed as well. There was a deep cut in the centre of his palm as well as several splinters. Putting his hand up to his face, he grabbed hold of the largest with his teeth and yelped a little as he yanked it out and spat it aside. Unfortunately, the smaller ones could not be removed without another hand, so those ones would have to stay for the time being. A dull pain shot up his arm as he flexed his fingers, but at least he could still move them. He glanced at the scarred stump of his right arm, cursing himself for not thinking to bring a spare hand. His years living without when he was younger had made him used to only using his left hand, but it was still extremely inconvenient. He was sure the spell he used against the druid would have been much more effective with the use of both. Groaning slightly as he slowly leaned forward, he took off his leg to inspect it. It was scratched and dented, but luckily, the foot was the only significant damage. He heard shouts in the distance. They found the druid. He didn't have much time to rest now. Muttering a curse, he began heating the foot until it was red hot, then, casting another spell to protect his hand, he bent it back into place. It wasn't perfect, but all that mattered right now was that it could be walked on. He put it back and leaned back again, wincing and holding his ribs. At least she didn't destroy that...
His thoughts were interrupted as he saw an eerie blue glow rush by out of the corner of his eye. Looking around, he saw nothing. He blinked and rubbed his head. Did I hit my head too hard? He sat back again. A few moments later, the glow appeared at his side. This time, it didn't move. Slowly looking over at it, he suddenly felt very uncomfortable. It was a small, flickering, faintly glowing blue ball of light. He wasn't sure, but he thought he might have been able to make out a face if he stared hard enough. While he had never seen one in person, he had studied enough history to know what it was. It was a wisp, the soul of a night elf who had chosen to stay in the living realm to guard the forest. It shimmered and floated there, just watching him. A second one joined it, then a third. "I'm not here to cause trouble. I-I didn't mean to hurt the druid," he whispered nervously. Thousands of these spirits had utterly obliterated the demon lord, Archimonde, near the end of the Third War. He doubted it would take that many to kill him, and he was desperately hoping that his words made any sense to them. "I-I promise. I'm just here to find my sister, and then I'll be on my way." The wisps shook a little and made a strange, quiet, humming sound as if speaking to each other. Two of them took off. One did not, though. It simply floated there, watching him. It made him nervous, but after a minute passed and it had done nothing, he realized it must just be keeping an eye on him. Do wisps have eyes?
After observing it for a moment, his curiosity got the better of him and he attempted to touch it. It zapped his finger and retreated, pulsing angrily at him. It hummed again, but this time, it was low and sounded almost like growling. He recoiled and shook his hand, his finger throbbing in time with the wisp's pulses. "Sorry, sorry, dumb move." Another wisp came back and zapped his shoulder. "Ow! Hey! I said I'm sorry! I wasn't going to hurt you!" They both zapped him again and without thinking, he reached out and grabbed the nearest one. The little spirit flickered and shook in his hand, and he could sense its fear. That had not been his intention. Where to go from here? "I, uh... I'm really sorry," he told it quietly. "I didn't mean to-" The other spirit let out a horrible shriek, and he let the wisp go as he cried out in pain and covered one ear. The wisp took off faster than he had ever seen anything move, and the other quickly followed. "Anar'alah," he muttered as he rubbed his ringing ears. Great. Just what I need. Another thing that wants to kill me. As the ringing began to fade, he heard the same voices he'd heard earlier, and though he couldn't see them, they sounded dangerously close. He pulled the carving out of his bag and concentrated on the spell he needed. Once more, the wood flashed, and a small ball of Arcane energy shot out of it. It circled his head, but this time, instead of disappearing, it flew down the trunk of the tree, not even bothering to wait for him. Cursing once more, he quickly put the carving back into his bag before teleporting back down and running to catch up to the surprisingly fast little orb.