I hate him. I hate him so much.

P

D

The Horde boats came to the Zandalari Empire and brought the mages that would establish a network of portals eventually showed up, but Perfectia was asleep. When she woke up there were already three portals going to major Horde capital cities and luckily one of them was going to Silvermoon. She went into the common areas of the city and took a flight path to her one-time home. Dawnstar Village and it was still a ruin. So many of the ship ports that used to be there were torn apart when Arthas built an ice bridge there, but her village was on the opposite side of where Arthas attacked. She thought about going to the place where she and her mother used to sleep but she was in no shape to be fighting lesser demons, or even Wretched that were squatting there. Lucy was waiting for her though. She was in full shining red and gold paladin armor, "Hey girly." Perfectia said as she patted her on her side. "You haven't seen Protecto have you?"

Lucy shook her head, no.

"I got myself hurt pretty badly, can you take me to the Sunwell?" Perfectia asked Lucy.

Lucy positioned herself and lowered her head as far as she could, so it would be easier for Perfectia to get on.

"Oh and if you see Protecto, don't tell him about what happened. He'll never let me hear the end of it."

Lucy lifted her head, looked her in the eyes and blinked three times.

"Right." She looked down slightly embarrassed, "Horse. That's why you're such good company."

Perfectia got on her, rode toward the Sunwell, and also started talking to Lucy about what had happened in the past few days.

Perfectia heard a slight whisper as she was about to enter the building. She looked around to see where it might have come from. "Hey." The slightly feminine voice called to her. "Perfectia? Perfectia Dawnlight?"

Perfectia looked over to where the voice was coming from but there was no one there, "Salut?" she called out.

The voice came out of the shadow and the Night Elf appeared. It was Tyrande Whisperwind.

Perfectia pulled the Ashbringer off her back with her left hand and held it in a Prime position. Hand upward and blade pointing downward blocking most of her upper body. Thinking Tyrande would have her bow ready to fire, "I didn't come here to fight you." Tyrande stated.

"Why should I believe you, priestess. I never zhought you'd be one to do your own assassination work, but I guess you must really not want to see us together." Perfectia explained.

Tyrande shook her head, "Quite the opposite actually. I've been waiting for you, I've been here for almost a week."

Perfectia couldn't hold up the Ashbringer anymore, she let the end fall on the ground, "What do you want, other than trying to recruit more confessional boys?" She asked.

Tyrande rolled her eyes, "He wants to marry you, make you his queen. He blamed me for your escape and rightfully so. So, I've been waiting for you."

Perfectia looked away and laughed slightly, "You're not exactly Miss Current Affairs are you Tyrande?" Perfectia sighed, "I don't think he feels that way about me anymore."

"What happened?" Tyrande asked.

Perfectia looked away as she recalled the thought, "I wanted to protect him and what happened was I made one stupid mistake after the other." Perfectia shrugged, "I've been so fixated on him lately. It was like this war didn't matter anymore and I know I don't deserve him. You know I never wanted him to ever meet with me personally. I just wanted him to know that someone felt this way about him, I never thought that love would be returned in kind. '' Perfectia let out a slightly disgusted grunt, "I am so far from my name, it's… I don't know."

Tyrande nodded slightly, "It was cruel for your mother to name you that."

Perfectia looked at her angered at her statement, "Tyrande?" She shrugged, "In the quiet words of the virgin goddess Ellune, "Come again"?"

Tyrande gave her a questionable look of shock, "Excuse me?"

"You heard me! The Nightborne." Perfectia gestured toward the Sunwell, "Us. We're Elves. There were so many of us that wanted to join the Alliance and you turned us away when we needed you the most. I was legitimately happy for First Arcanist Thalyssra that her people didn't need to be stuck inside that dome their whole lives. That people that were separated from their families for thousands of years could be reunited and I felt like such an idiot for being surprised that you turned them away as well."

"I didn't turn them away, I said I would put the situation into consideration, see how the people of Suramar will act with their new-found freedom. If I knew they would have got up and sided with my enemies I would have never helped them liberate the city. As for your people it had nothing to do with what your people are, but what they had done." Tyrande explained, "Tell me, why did your people turn away Alleria and her Void Elves?"

"You know why. She nearly corrupted the Sunwell." Perfectia was disgusted by the thought, "Then later she tried to lie to Anduin about it. Like it was our fault that we had to turn her away, whatever was inside her, tried to manifest itself and I had to deal with that personally. Can you imagine what an army of void elves could do to our people, our home?"

Tyrande rolled her eyes, "Your people think it was the water from the Well of Eternity that made us retain our immortality, but it's really not. It's true that it was the water that changed us in the first place, and yes, my grandparents were trolls, but over time we didn't need it exclusively. The Night Elves' faith in the goddess Elune kept us young. It's kept me alive for thousands of years. For my husband it was the teachings of Cenarius. Even Illidan found ways through the arcane, but those were methods I didn't really agree with, but they weren't as bad as Queen Azshara's. So, for as long as I can remember I've always tried, maybe I even hated that so many of our lives were dependent on this thing, and my goddess agreed with me. I've taught so many students through faith and devotion you could live for thousands of years without it. But your people, even against the laws and the teachings of the goddess, took that water and became so dependent on it." She explained.

Perfectia shrugged, "I didn't have anything to do with that."

Tyrande nodded, "I know, there were a few people, high elves, humans, even dwarfs, that embraced the goddess's teachings and lived longer than normal lives, but in the end, they were tired of living when their immediate family started dying." She shrugged, "Now that I think about it there is only one High Elf that still embraces her teachings."

"Who?" Perfectia asked.

Tyrande shrugged, "No one you would know."

"Try me." Perfectia stated, thinking she knew.

Tyrande looked at Perfectia and smiled slightly, "Telavani Lovewood."

Perfectia laughed slightly, "She's insane."

Tyrande looked at her questionably, "Is she? …and how do you know her?"

Perfectia looked down slightly, "She's my aunt."

Tyrande stepped forward and looked at Perfectia up and down, "You don't really look like her… Wait… That poem, did she help you write it?"

Perfectia shook her head, "No, but I know why you would think that. She was never one to really write what she said down."

"Your aunt is Elune's champion of shadow?" Tyrande explained with surprise, "You know I used to think she was crazy too, but I treated her like a child, so when she started wanting me to take her seriously I couldn't trust her integrity."

"Why not?" Perfectia asked.

Tyrande let out a long drawn out sigh and started walking away but gestured to Perfectia to follow her. "A long time ago when my husband was in the Emerald Dream, the goddess Elune told me that she would need a champion of shadow." She said as she walked away from the Sunwell. "I knew more about its power more than anything. The pain and havoc it could cause to people was a power I never liked using, but I couldn't be matched by anyone, even people that used it exclusively. But it wasn't enough, not for Elune. I am her champion of Light. So, I started training initiates in the ways of the shadow. Thousands failed and gave up, hundreds died, and dozens went on killing sprees and had to be put down."

Perfectia shrugged slightly, "So is my aunty the only one that passed?"

Tyrande smiled slightly and shook her head, "No, she was the one that showed up and claimed the title after I had given up. She was so powerful, but it wasn't a power most people would envy, and I realized what the shadow of Elune was. It wasn't darkness or destruction or a power that was opposed to the Light. It was Elune's inner child, the part of her that wouldn't be corrupted or exploited. I have known great wisdom in my servitude to Elune but it always fed my pride. However, there is something about humility and innocence that I could never understand. The part of Elune that wanted to play, and smile, and sometimes be cruel."

Perfectia looked at Tyrande concerningly, "Did she hurt people? Did she kill people?"

Tyrande shook her head and laughed slightly, then out loud, then uncontrollably, "We used to have this group of initiates that refused to wear pants, wore hats on their feet, and wore gloves that looked like shoes, so the goddess would think they were right side up."

"Is that why your people wear those flap things?" Perfectia asked.

Tyrande nodded, "My own design actually. There was also this group of people that claimed to be time travelers. They would run around waving various objects around saying that they were devices that made them travel back in time. They said they had changed major events that prevented the world's destruction. I had to stop people from running around various large trees, because they said they were having a race that everyone could win. For me, the pranks were a little more traditional if I didn't give her enough attention."

Perfectia repressed a smile, "What did she do?"

Tyrande sighed slightly but still smiled as she remembered, "Honey in my shampoo or shampoo that wouldn't wash out regardless of how much I rinsed. She would do this thing to my chairs and tables where she would cut a quarter of an inch off of one leg that would leave me slightly off balance. Sometimes someone would challenge her, and she would make them think that she killed them. They would walk around thinking they were invisible until they walked into a bathing room. Then there was the mocking decoration she would put on my statutes, but I wasn't sure if that was her. People sometimes joined in her fun and blamed her. Tea was always at six, where I would try to decipher her rhymes and riddles or her psychotic outburst and predictions, and sometimes she was right." Tyrande laughed, "If I missed tea for a few days out of the week I would find it in the water wells. It turned all the water brown. That may sound pleasant at first, but you have no idea how hard it was to clean sugar and honey out of those water lines. They would clog, then attract insects." She smiled.

Perfectia nodded, "I don't know if I should apologize or say your welcome."

"When she finally left we thought she would come back. Soldiers and guards were a bit hyper vigilant after that, thinking she would trick them or do something that I would get angry over because they weren't paying attention. I think that's why adventurers really didn't like spending time there unless they had to. After all the chaos she caused, the level of order just made things boring, but we used to talk about her sometimes."

Tyrande smiled as she thought back reminiscently, but she shook her head, "And now it's gone." She whispered, then looked at Perfectia and had a sad look in her eyes, "You had no right to call Alleria out in the middle of that meeting. She had planned to tell Anduin in private about what had really happened, and you embarrassed her in front of everyone. You got to play a victim in disguise, where you had no right to. Teldrassil was my home, a place you helped burned down, so when Alleria told me who you might be, I wanted to deal with you personally."

Perfectia looked away and started to cry, "I am so sorry. I didn't know Sylvanas was going to do that, and I've been trying, so hard, to make up for what I did."

Tyrande looked away and shook her head, "I know… I didn't know that until later. You tried harder than anyone I thought could. So much that you stole our king's heart, but do you really think becoming queen will stop Sylvanas from attacking?"

Perfectia shook her head, "No, but I know someone that can."

Tyrande shrugged, "Thrall is too old to lead another rebellion, the harnessing of the elements is rarely beneficial in the long run."

Perfectia looked away and half smiled, "No, I meant the youngest Windrunner sibling, Lirath. He's been living in exile for over 20 years, but he told me he was going to be coming forward soon. If there's anyone that can lead the Forsaken against her or stop her from attacking, it's him."

Tyrande looked around confused, "I gave that boy his last rights, but if he's alive that would mean- "

Perfectia interrupted, "He's undead, if he came to the Alliance he could end this peacefully."

Tyrande looked away as she thought and nodded at Perfectia, "I can arrange a meeting with Anduin."

"What?" Perfectia said in disbelief, "How, where?"

"You're going to have to trust me." Tyrande started and pulled a blindfold from her pocket.

"What are you going to do with that?" Perfectia asked.

"The Cenarion Circle has a meeting place in the Eastern Kingdoms, a place I don't want to compromise." Tyrande put the blindfold on her face and put it on somewhat tightly.

"You are not prepared!" Perfectia mocked deeply and jokingly but didn't hear anything coming from Tyrande. She moved her face forward, licked her lips, and breathed in through her nose. She could taste Tyrande's magical energy and it tasted like a thick milky salt with a bitterness to it, but it wasn't unpleasant. Her teeth reacted to the taste almost like there was something in her mouth already. She walked toward her.

"Can you see?" Tyrande asked.

She shook her head, "No, it's difficult to explain."

Perfectia tasted her casting a spell as the flavor in her mouth felt a little richer and heard the sound of a hippogriff show up next to her. Tyrande guided her onto the flying mount and Tyrande got on in front of her. From there it was just the sound of the wind.

"Can I ask you something?" Perfectia said loudly over the hissing of the wind.

"It's a long flight so, I suppose, but I may choose to not answer if it has anything to do with the Alliance." She started loudly.

She shook her head, "No, it's nothing like that. What do you see in Malfurion anyways?"

Perfectia felt Tyrande's body move to the side as she did have two hands on her waist. There was a long pause.

"I guess you're not going to tell me…" Perfectia asked

"Why do you care?"

"You'd be surprised how insightful my aunty was, she knew a lot about the heroes of Azeroth, Thrall, Arthas, Illidan, Kael'thas, even Sylvanas."

"Lost Ones?" Tyrande asked questionably.

Perfectia nodded her head, somewhat surprised that she knew that, "I really don't understand it really."

Tyrande sighed slightly, "She used to do this thing with salad dressings and plates and make these designs. At first, I thought she was just playing with her food and she would use berries and small tomatoes to represent major figures. All the while voicing meetings… and fights." She laughed, "I didn't think much of it then but, I kept asking members of my order that were with me, if we've been here before. Having that same conversation, then when I looked at my maps I remembered those salad dressing designs. There was no doubt in my mind then that I should have taken those premonitions more seriously."

Perfectia shrugged, "Well yeah, she does that, but you didn't answer my question."

"It's really none of your business." Tyrande stated.

Perfectia sighed, "I would have picked Illidan."

Tyrande laughed, "And why is that?"

"Because he's hot. Those muscles, clean shaven, even that broodiness he has, I mean I could just picture him scooping me up in those arms and making me feel so safe. Like I could take over the whole world by his side and then there are the tattoos. Oh, my Light…"

"He was a demon!" Tyrande yelled trying to sound angry but there was laughter in her voice.

"Yeah, but a really sexy one. I mean have you ever seen the way Demon Hunters fight? The yells, the moans, and grunts, to the fighting style postures. It's all surprisingly sexual."

"How old are you?" She asked ironically.

"24."

Tyrande sighed, "Okay makes sense, have you shared any levels of intimacy with a Demon Hunter, even so much as a kiss?"

Perfectia shook her head, "No, I'm a little on the thick side if you haven't noticed. There was one I knew from back when, Redworm, he was telling me somethings about his past but he stopped talking to me when he found out I killed Leotheras the Blind."

"Well I've noticed. My hippogriff is moving slower than usual, even for being double mounted."

Perfectia rolled her eyes and sighed.

"How did you get so full figured anyways? You're a Blood Elf, and I thought your kind was more than a little vain."

She didn't like the question at all, but she did have an answer that was partially true, "Beer and pork." She shrugged, "I really thought the world was going to end when Deathwing came, if anything I hoped it would. Very few days of my life were spent sober. I got my waistline to trim down but my rear kind of stayed the same size."

Tyrande laughed, "I think that might be the reason why Anduin was so attracted to you. He never seemed to have a problem with eye contact even with low cut tops. Who could have figured him as someone that was so attracted to hips?"

She leaned forward and held Tyrande around her arms, "You think so?" She asked gleefully.

She screamed out in pain in Perfectia's embrace, "Let go of me! Let go of me, Perfectia!"

"Sorry." Perfectia let go quickly. "I guess if I came any closer there would be insertion."

"By Elune… Could you be any more inappropriate? But you are stronger than you look. I know I don't look it, but I'm still an old woman." She took some deep breaths.

"I'm sorry."

Tyrande sighed and shrugged, "What do you see in Anduin, then?"

Perfectia soaked her lips and bit them slightly, "It's difficult to explain."

She moved her back toward her, "Try." Perfectia could hear a smile in her voice.

Perfectia took a deep breath, "I thought he was gorgeous and elegant and gentle and sweet. But strong both physically and willfully. "

"So, you like things about him." She stated factually.

"It's more than that, there's also something else to him. Something dark."

She looked back at her and remembered her last conversation with him, "Go on."

"Well you must see it. Why would someone that inherited so much power, be so kind, feel the need to be so strong, to be so wise?"

"I don't know."

"Because of pain, trauma, turmoil, there is a beautiful broken heart aching for mending and it feels like my broken pieces might fix there." Perfectia laughed, "does that make sense to you?"

"You sound like your aunt." Tyrande nodded, "You know we Night Elves have an unspoken rule, 'Allow a mortal to have your help, your time, but never allow a mortal to have your heart, especially if you're one who truly gives all to your lover. Never take a mortal, it gets incredibly lonely living 30 of their lifetimes."

"Do you think humans feel that way about their dogs or horses? Do you think flowers are not worthy of tending because they die out every winter? Mortals don't just die of old age you know. Yes, it's lonely when a lover passes but elves are not exempted from death. We just have one advantage they don't, an elvan life can be just as short and just as beautiful as a mortal one and if it's not to be, well, you remember the people you fell in love with just as much as one awaits flowers in spring."

Tyrande laughed slightly, "I'm finding it a bit pointless to argue with a poet in love, it's been entertaining nonetheless."

"Thank you, he wasn't my first though."

"I know." Tyrande breathed in, "I'm short tempered if you haven't already noticed."

Perfectia shrugged, "Okay?"

"So is Illidan. I did think he was more handsome then Malfurion, overall he was more attractive, but we used to argue so much like two waves coming from opposite directions. Neither one of us would submit an argument, even if one of us was wrong, it used to bring me to tears sometimes. Even when he came here to save Azeroth I was afraid he would start gloating or guilting me about how many wrong decisions I made. I couldn't bear to see him again." Tyrande explained.

"You know, I never saw him when he came back. Everything I know about him are just things that I heard."

"And before?" She asked.

"You shouldn't ask me that. I wasn't the same person when I was 15."

"Did you kill him?"

Perfectia nodded, "Yes." She said blankly. "And I don't regret it."

"Good, because I was opposed to his methods in spite of the 'greater good' there and the 'needed sacrifice', it disgusted me actually." She paused, "Malfurion would just stand there nodding when I would become enraged. He mourned the loss of his brother, but he was rarely angry, and never acted without a clear mind. If anything, he taught me the meaning of patience…"

"But don't you remember when he got kidnapped. He sounded like a damsel in distress. Also, I was in the Emerald Nightmare and he seemed to have no interest in personally ending the life of Xavius, someone that had corrupted the bodies and minds of some of his close's friends. I would have wanted him to suffer, he's barely a man."

"One more word like that and I'll throw you off this hippogriff." She stated angrily.

Perfectia removed the blindfold and looked her in the eyes, "Go ahead, I can survive the fall."

"You know I could still kill you?"

Perfectia laughed, "I know you think so. Did Jaina recover from her wounds?"

She shrugged slightly, "I didn't even know she was back."

"You can't." Perfectia stated blankly.

"Let's find a place to set you down. I don't feel comfortable bringing you to the only Cenarion Circle base in the Eastern Kingdoms. For Elune sake my hippogriff is tired of carrying you."

"Stop body shaming me you oldfangled bully, think my kind hasn't told me these jokes before?"

"Just shut up."

And so, she did.

Perfectia was brought to an unknown location in the Eastern Kingdom. She waited for Tyrande to come back but later Anduin showed up on the back of her hippogryph. He was wearing his darker brown outfit. He put down his hood and looked around, "Perfectia, I'm so sorry it took so long for us to meet again."

Perfectia locked on him, "Anduin." They met each other's eyes, Perfectia ran to him, and melted in his touch. Anduin's empathy and dedication were clear qualities that Perfectia liked and their eyes locked, "Come in the evening, or come in the morning,

Come when you're looked for, or come without warning,

Kisses and welcomes you'll find here before you,

And the oftener you come here the more I'll adore you." Perfectia smiled as she looked up at him, "I prepared that for you."

Anduin nodded, "It's beautiful, you honor me." He lifted his arms slightly but felt he couldn't hug her back. Her scent flowed into his nostrils, pervaded his senses, and he assessed his options. He shook his head slightly as he looked down on her.

Perfectia continued to hug him but looked up at him as she couldn't feel his arms wrap around her as she expected, "What's wrong?" She asked.

Anduin's heart hurt as he looked down into her golden eyes, he breathed in, and took in her scent, "I…" The redolence reminded him of jasmine, with the freshness of gardenia but also the early undertone of orchids. He knew what he had to do, what he planned to do, but his potent lust overrode his moral compass when Perfectia's faint scent of her sweet body reached him. He felt disquieted, as though he had forgotten an important detail. Anduin had no recourse but to allow his instincts to control his actions. He touched the side of her face, Perfectia's eyes were slightly scintillating with tears.

Perfectia leaned her head into his hand like a cat, closing her eyes slightly, and looked up at him.

"Nothing's wrong." Anduin pulled her closer, looked into her golden eyes, looked at her lips while slightly biting his own, and looked back into her eyes again. He gently grabbed the side of her face, leaned his head forward, and pressed his lips on hers. Then rested his forehead against hers, "I missed you as well."

Even with Perfectia's non-dominant hand she was able to pull him closer, "More." She whispered in a commanding tone and let Andiun tongue into her salivating maw.

Anduin felt himself lose composure as he tasted her, intoxicating him as his tongue probed her face and she sucked in his tongue. He picked her up and nearly slammed her against a tree truck.

Perfectia let out a slight grunt as the back of her head made contact, but she knew he was flying off the edge of his pants, figuratively and literally, and decided that she shouldn't blame him for doing what came natural. From above, she roughly kissed him with her large punty lips, thrust her tongue down his throat. She moaned, half choking as her body rolled, arching against the hardwood behind her and below her. "You have no idea how beautiful you are when you kiss me." She saw her color palette of him change into many shades of red, a few oranges, and slight yellows, "You taste like pears."

He withdrew from her, seeming out of breath as a slick strain of hungering saliva connected their tongues and fell away. "And you look like one." He whispered.

She took some deep breaths and looked down at his eyes half shut as he held her up, "It's fine." She reached downward, to grab his crotch, "You feel harder than getting my dad to quit drinking." She wasn't wrong, but Anduin didn't get it. She wanted to be his first and it was important to her that he engaged in the dance well. She didn't want to leave things as they had last time.

"What?" He looked down at himself, "Oh, I'm sorry is it?"

"Don't be." She said with a sultry weight to her smile and touched the side of his face, "I think there are some abandoned houses by Raven Hill."

He looked back at her with a nervous smile, like he might have been losing his nerve.

"I'm so sorry Anduin."

Anduin shook his head, "No, I'm sorry Perfectia. I… "He held her tightly. "…I don't want to let you go." He put her down.

She looked up at him now, he was a lot taller than her now that she wasn't wearing platform shoes. "I'm yours Anduin. If you would hold my hand, I'd be yours forever. A simple promise. That's all I can offer, and if it's not enough. If it's too late. I'll be whatever you need me to be." Nathanos words but formed a little differently.

Anduin looked away, his eyes glistening slightly, "That was beautiful."

She looked down slightly ashamed, "I can't take credit for writing that, but I've written more poems, you know. Things got a little dark after these past few weeks though. You know I'd like to read to you what I wrote before we met in Lions Rest."

Anduin nodded, "I'd like to hear it, but why did you try to kill Jaina?"

Perfectia looked away, upset, stepped back, and crossed her arms, "Do we really have to talk about that?" She looked down and shook her head, "Can't this just be about us…" She paused for an extended amount of time, looking at Anduin somewhat ashamed, and sighed, "Which time?" She said in a blank sarcastic tone and rolled her eyes.

Anduin looked at her questionably, "Well the first time."

Perfectia looked away, "I regret that. You know I do, we would have been facing Sylvanas together in Lordaeron if I hadn't done what I did. It was just the way you were looking at that monster in the sky. You looked at me like that when… when you found out what I was. I saved your life, but she saved your Alliance. It was like she threw more slop into your feeding pin and you were right back on the war path again. I thought she was going to steal you away from me, from the way I saw her by your side."

"And Alleria?" Anduin asked.

She looked away and shook her head, "Are you really doing this Anduin?" She asked

"Doing what?"

"Putting me on trial," She looked around, "Do you have some SI:7 agents to ambush me if you don't like my answers?"

"No."

She quickly pointed a boomstick at him.

He looked at it strangely, "That's an old dwarven model. It has one shot but it's prone to backfire. Where did you get that?"

She nodded, "Moira gave to me when I asked for the Ashbringer back, so if it doesn't backfire, if it front fires, it will turn your pretty face into a fine red mist." She said in a mocking tone.

He nodded, "That's true."

"I'M GOING TO SHOOT ZE KING OF STORMWIND IN ZE FACE IF DON'T STOP ME!" She looked around and screamed, "AT COUNT OF THREE!"

"Perfectia it's just me."

"UN!"

"Someone will come if you don't stop-"

"DEUX!" She pointed the boomstick at him.

Anduin started looking around thinking maybe should have brought protection, "Perfectia you can't be serious."

"I'm sorry…" She looked away as she was about to pull the trigger, "TROIS!"

Anduin took that opportunity to rush her and try to grab the gun. The gun went off, making an echoing boom sound that scared away all the nearby birds. Anduin's left side of his face was covered in a black soot.

"It was just powder, I didn't load a slug."

Anduin stood there kind of struck, his ears were ringing and the powder did string a bit but for the most part he was okay, "I love you so much." He managed to say in that moment of shock.

Perfectia kissed him on the cheek but tasted the soot that was on his lips, "Blaaah." She started cleaning off the side of his face, "Let me just." She got most of it off "I told Alleria to stay away from me. She came after me first while I was unarmed." Perfectia explained as she cleaned off her face, "She didn't know I could use a crossbow. And besides, she already threatened to torture me and turn me into a Wretched if I didn't tell her about her brother. I told you about that already."

Anduin looked at Perfectia confused, "Wait, a brother?"

Perfectia sighed as she finished up cleaning his face, "There's a lot you don't know, Anduin."

Anduin looked away and thought back, "I know you helped those trolls escape and you flooded our hospital beds from all the guards you injured."

She shrugged, "I didn't kill them, well, not all of them."

He sighed, "The guards are trained to play possum at a certain point, but you gave most of them complex fractures that couldn't be fixed with healing magic, not to mention the mages that are actually dead, that could have helped with the fire you started."

"I didn't start that fire, how could I have known those mages would be needed later?" She backed away and shook her head, "Anduin is it really so unattractive to know that I'm actually dangerous." She shrugged, "Because I understand if you're intimidated by me, I get it." She shook her head, "Generally men want someone that's-"

"No, no, that's not what I'm saying." He stepped forward and touched her face, "You are so wonderful, so perfect. Your name fits you so well."

Perfectia lost herself in ecstasy when she looked up into his eyes and listened to his voice "I only did that so I could see you." She said with a smile, "That there was maybe a chance I could find you. I saw Saurfang and didn't know what happened, but she knows, Anduin, Sylvanas saw us waving to each other above Lordaeron. There's a lot of people watching me now." Perfectia was disgusted with herself, "Gosh, what were we thinking?"

Anduin shrugged, looked down, and shook his head, "I'm still in love with you, even though I was hurt."

Perfectia smiled, nodded, and looked at him, "I know…" She remembered saying that to Isirami Fairwind, "…I love you too." She was glad she could say it genuinely. She shrugged, "What are we going to do?"

Anduin looked away and shook his head, "I already tried to kill you twice. I don't think we should do anything."

Perfectia breathed out and nodded, "Okay… So maybe we could meet somewhere in disguise?" She said with a slight shrug, "You know Outland is fairly free of turmoil. It's why Thrall always goes there for refuge. There are these heated baths there I'd like to show you."

Anduin shook his head, "No, I mean we shouldn't see each other anymore."

Perfectia looked away from Anduin and back at him in shock, "What are you saying?! I don't blame you for trying to kill me, I tried to kill Jaina and Alleria would be dead if you hadn't intervened."

Anduin shrugged, "And what if Genn wasn't there or… Mograine."

Perfectia looked at him confused, "Is that what you're afraid of?" She shook her head at him, "I remember what he said, but he also said that if I killed Jaina you would never forgive me. I didn't kill that monster even though I could have, for you!"

Anduin stepped away from her and now looked at Perfectia disgusted, "Monster, how can you call her that?! Do you have any idea what she's been through? The Horde took everything away from her, Garrosh destroyed her entire home. She had the opportunity to take revenge, but she didn't…"

"Ah, vraiment." Perfectia said mockingly in a way, smiling, "So you zink zat she took no matters of personal revenge against la Horde do you?" She said as if she were talking to a child. Her face turned stone cold, "I'm calling 'er a monster because that's what she is, we were both there for Garrosh's trial. She didn't drown hundreds of people because Thrall and Kalecgos were there, and she almost killed them both. They had to force the Focusing Iris out her hand to stop her from enslaving hundreds of water elementals. She would have killed your father."

Anduin nodded, "I know, she was devastated but she got through that. She put aside her hatred and it's why she was made leader of the Kirin Tor."

Perfectia laughed slightly, looked away, and shook her head, "You honestly think that her tyranny ended when she decided not to commit mass genocide? She still killed dozens of my people. Do you think when she exiled the Sunreavers that she kindly asked them to leave? No, she killed unarmed citizens and left their bodies in the streets of Dalaran and she was always on the hunt for more, and the rest were transferred to a concentration camp where my people worked and starved to death. Do you know what an anti-magic field does to a blood elf, Anduin?"

Anduin shook his head.

Perfectia nodded angrily at his ignorance, "It turns them into a Wretched and it's irreversible. You know, thank the Light the Iron Horde invaded, because that's when they were finally released, but we had to put so many of them out of their misery and the ones that were returned to their families were never the same."

Anduin shrugged, "Your people took people from Dalaran as well…"

"We fed them, they only needed food, and only because your Alliance started kidnapping our people first."

Anduin shook his head in disbelief and remembered, "What about that bell? Didn't your people just let Garrosh walk past with it? Do you know what he did with that bell, what he did to me?"

Perfectia looked at him enraged, "I know what Garrosh did to you, but Anduin… Did you ever wonder why Garrosh never used that bell on himself?"

Anduin shrugged, "Because he saw what it was doing to his men."

Perfectia shook her head, "No, because he had already used it on himself once, when I fought him. That was the first time I was able to summon the Ashbringer at will." Perfectia held onto her heart as she recalled, "Do you have any idea what he did to me?" Tears were falling down her face, "He killed my first love, right in front of me. He died right in my arms. I never even got to tell him I loved him. Then Garrosh slammed Gorehowl into my stomach after I told him I might be pregnant." Perfectia shook her head, "It took me two years for me to fully recover, through several painful experimental surgeries, but my digestive tract and reproductive system were permanently damaged. Do you know what that's like Anduin, to lose that? Do you want me to rip off your balls so you know what that feels like?"

He shook his head no.

"Jaina lost friends, soldiers, and a couple buildings, but no women, no children, Garrosh gave Jaina plenty of time to evacuate the helpless. Everyone on Theramore was willing to fight and die if necessary. Oh, and a new hairstyle, little envious of that actually. I'm not saying it hasn't been hard for her, but stop acting like Jaina Proudmoore is the only person that suffered because of what he did."

Anduin shrugged and shook his head, "This is a lot. Archmage Aethas Sunreaver confessed to everything even after the Purge."

Perfectia looked at him shocked, "Ok mon amour." She nodded, "Okay, I get it. Oui bien sûr, you need proof." She said in a matter of fact way. She undid her belt and struggled to undo her pants. Most pants she wore were tight and difficult to remove even with two functioning arms.

"Perfectia what are you doing? I didn't come here so we could do that."

"This isn't about that." She interrupted. She looked away and was ashamed that she couldn't do something so simple, "Help me…" She said with tears in her eyes, "S'il te plait."

Anduin nodded and helped her pull down her pants and saw six rounded inverted piercing scars four inches below her navel, but also a scar line that seemed to connect them. He took off his gloves and touched them with his bare hand. He felt the six circular scars and even in night darkness he saw white discoloration in comparison to her skin tone.

"Recognize the measurements?" Perfectia asked.

He nodded, "They're a little far apart but yeah, this is the back of Gorehowl."

She sighed and looked away, "It took a few surgeries to get me back in fighting shape after that, which is why I look odd from the waist down. So if you were wondering why I look the way I do for better or for worse it's because of what he did. The Silver Covenant were actually the ones that helped him move the bell to Pandaria. Archmage Aethas Sunreaver just stood there frozen in fear when Garrosh did this to me. That is why he agreed to take the blame, even during the Purge with all his own people dying, he never said a word. That's how me and Vereesa know each other. Garrosh sent me there to spy on the Silver Covenant, but I fell in love with Oranio. He was a Draenei, and even after he found out what I was. We were just going to run away from this stupid war." Perfectia covered her face with her hand. "Can you help me?"

He nodded, "Whatever you need."

Perfectia laughed slightly, "I mean pull my pants back up."

"Oh, yes." He helped but the struggle was real. It was hard to pull the pants over Perfectia's gargantuan hips and rear, but he managed and did her belt as well. He held his hand there, seeming to try to smooth on the folds in the leather on her hips. "Does it still hurt?"

She responded to his touch and shook her head no. Then positioned herself so that his hand was going behind her touching her rear, "But it hurts here though." She reached up on her toes to kiss him on the lips, "You should grab it with both hands."

Anduin stepped away and shook his head, "I'm sorry."

Perfectia was confused and a little disgusted by the rejection, "What do you have to be sorry about? Don't be sorry, you love me, you want me, I feel the same way, so take me. Or maybe you just don't want to, because you want something else."

Everything in Anduin's body was telling him to listen to her, "That's not it, just not here, not like this, I want to marry you first. Well, I did."

She rolled her eye's, "Oui, I'm not a woman of THAT kind of power. You'll gain no castles marrying someone like me."

"It's not that either."

She looked away, "I don't believe you. You're a liar, just a greedy king looking for power, and I don't care..."

Anduin stepped forward slightly, "Then if you want to help with the Alliance's endeavors I would welcome it, but I can't be with you."

Perfectia looked up at him confused, "What?"

Anduin looked away bewildered, "It's just, it seems like the Horde has done so many awful things to you, but you could have a place in the Alliance. I have a few blood elves working with us."

Perfectia looked at him in disgust and shrugged, "So, do I need to do a bunch of quests? Earn a reputation in the Alliance for you to want to marry me or at the very least bed me? Or you think I just have a thing for a few Alliance races because I fell in love with you and a Draenei?"

Anduin shook his head confused, "No. It's just…"

"Are you in love with Jaina Proudmoore?" Perfectia interrupted.

Anduin looked down for a second and back at her, "If I was, would you try to kill her again?"

Perfectia unwrapped her arm and showed him her deformed hand.

Anduin looked at it disturbingly, "Did she do this to you?"

Perfectia looked at him angrily, "If I told you she did would you believe me?"

Anduin looked at it and then at her, "Yes."

Perfectia nodded, "Good. Because I think you know how cruel she could be, but she didn't do this to me. This happened after my fight with her and it wasn't her fault."

Anduin was even more confused, "Then why would you say that?"

Perfectia laughed slightly as she remembered back, "What did she say to me, 'The Horde were cruel and heartless. Ruthless in their pursuit to victory. That we would die there, and an unmarked grave would be all we would have to show for it.' And I spared her for you. Do you think she would have spared me? When you see her again, she'll play the victim, she'll tell you how terrified she was, how you could be involved with someone like me, and rightfully so. I tapped into powers that I really shouldn't have, but I can't move a boat in the air and use it to break down a castle wall. So, when she bats her eyelashes at you and tells you that I need to be put down like a rabid dog, remember what I told you about her. The only thing that woman cares about is vengeance and if you fell in love with her, you married her, you made her your queen, she would turn you into a monster as well, and would probably make you restore Theramore brick by radiated brick. But I think you know that she is not too far off from her former lover, and she needs to be stopped, maybe even more so than Sylvanas. So that's what I'm going to do… even if I have to go through you." Perfectia reached down into her bag, opened her book, ripped a page from her book, and handed Anduin a piece of paper, "Give this to her when you see her. Don't read it."

Anduin took it and shook his head, "I don't love her. I love you. But I need her."

Perfectia shrugged slightly, "But you don't need me?"

Anduin looked down, "I want you, but I don't deserve you."

Perfectia steps forward slightly, "What about peace? We both wanted that. We need that, we have that." She took off his glove and touched his bare skin hand to hers, "Right now. I don't think I deserve you either, but can we at least try?"

Anduin looked around and couldn't think of what to say.

Perfectia took his other hand and kissed it, "Anduin. I'll do anything. I can walk around in disguise if you want me too. I know how much it would bother some people, I don't have to have a place on your throne, just let me be by your side. We could get married in secret. I just don't wanna fight anymore. I'm so tired of this war, please don't let her turn you into a monster."

Anduin knew that she was his. Just a simple 'yes', a barest of hope, and she would obey his every command and defend every single territory he told her to, just so she could await his arrival in some deep secluded place. The thought of taking her as a mistress did cross his mind, but that wasn't the kind of person he was. There had to be a middle ground, he looked at her, "I told you, you could join the Alliance." He said blankly.

Perfectia laughed slightly, "Do you really think me joining the Alliance would bring peace?"

Anduin shook his head no, "I could protect you from the Horde."

Perfectia looked down and laughed, "And who would protect me from the Alliance?"

He looked down, nodded, and conceded to her point, "Who would protect you from me? I'm sorry, but I'm already a monster, and I couldn't live in this world if you weren't in it. When this war is finally over. Even if we win, I'll have too much blood on my hands for you to love me. War is the only thing I've ever known."

Perfectia shrugged, "It doesn't have to be that way."

Anduin looked down, "It's just the way the world is."

"No." Perfectia hugged him, "No." She pleaded, but a hug wasn't returned, "Anduin, please… I love you… Just… "

"I'm sorry." Anduin said and pulled out his hearthstone.

"No please." Perfectia pleaded as she tried to take the stone away from him.

Anduin turned his back to her and started lining his fingers on the blue parts of the stone

Perfectia continued to hug him, "Vivre d'amour et d'eau fraîche… "She started,

"I'll never love anyone as much as I love you." Anduin looked back at her before the hearthstone spell had finished. He looked into her eyes and then he was gone. He was sent back to Stormwind Keep and made his way to the stairs of his room and passed by Genn Greymane on the way to his room.

Genn saw his face, "My king, are you okay?"

Anduin shook his head and stormed past him, "No, please leave me alone."

Genn heard him slam the door to his room behind him and heard him crying.

—-

The next day Anduin returned to his duties as King, briefed incoming soldiers and adventurers, but their voices were distant, and his own voice seemed mechanical as he went over the repeated briefing for groups of adventurers as they came in. Anduin's fidget habit of tossing a pear around was a lot more aggressive as he was also shifting his thorne a lot as well. It agitated Genn a little but not to a point that he felt he should mention it. Still he figured that the king was coming off as a little high strung as he tossed them around and sometimes ate them in the middle of conversations.

Genn came by and saw him, "You're Highness, you don't have to be here if you're not feeling well."

Anduin shook his head, "No, I want to stay busy. I've actually taken to doing some drawing last night. I think it helps." He looked downwards and looked up at him, "Do you know what…" He tried to get the phrasing of what the last thing Perfectia said to him.

"Vivre d'amour et d'eau fraîche…?" Genn pronounced it right. "Did she say that?"

Anduin nodded, "Yes, that's it."

He looked away recalling his times in Gilneas. It was a phrase used by Elvian wives whose husbands were being deployed, "There isn't a complete translation in Common that would make sense, but it means, 'To be so in love you lose your appetite or…' " He looked downward and shook his head, "Kill yourself." He was a bit disgusted with himself as he said, "Anduin, you know I liked her, the High Elves were highly regarded in my father's kingdom. There were even a few half-breeds living in Gilneas before the Cataclysm. They weren't as standoffish as Night Elves, you know."

Anduin tossed the pear side to side fast and aggressively showing some level of anger by the statement.

"Anduin can you put down the fruit?"

Anduin shook his head, "Can you not!?… Please?!" He yelled. He squeezed the pear into sauce and juice and looked at his hand and the crushed pear tragically, "I-I don't know what just came over me." He let it drop on the ground, "I planned on eating that."

"I'll get you another one, your majesty." The guardsmen to his left said, "Warm, with soft skin just how you like them, and I'll grab a mop too."

Genn shook his head at the guardsmen, "Just the mop actually." He looked at the king, "Listen to me Anduin, you're-" He saw someone walking in fast and aggressively.

Jaina Proudmoore came down to the left of Stormwind Keep and stormed her way to Anduin. He saw her and looked at her in disgust.

Jaina reached back with her right hand to slap Anduin across the face, but he caught and held her hand. "Let go of me." She ordered.

Anduin let go.

"Jaina, this is not a good time for this." Genn said.

Jaina ignored him, "You involved yourself with a mana vampire? What do you think this is, some kind of badly written teenage romance novel?!"

Genn repressed a laugh at that.

Anduin looked away from her, "It's fine Genn… Could we go someplace a little less open if you plan on scolding me?"

Jaina crossed her arms defensively and gestured with her head to the map room that was on Anduin's left.

Anduin walked into the map room and asked the people there to leave including Tyrande and Malfurion and stood on the other side of the war map table away from Jaina. One of the guards picked up a sundae glass containing cut pineapple, pandaren orange slices, sweet heavy cream, and coconut. "Your Majesty, do you want me to put this in a cold place?"

Jaina looked at the sweet strangely, "Isn't it a little too early for dessert?"

"The cook made it for him last night, but he hasn't touched it. It's just been smelling all morning." The guard explained.

"Just hold onto it, please." Anduin requested.

The guard looked down at it, "Can I have it, it does smell really good."

Anduin laughed, "Yes, I'll ask the cook's to make me another." And all the people left.

"Who is she?" Jaina asked Anduin. Tyrande stopped and Malfurion noticed. He gestured with his head for her to keep moving. But she shook her head at him and Shadowmended out of plain sight. She lifted her head to gesture to him that he should keep moving. Malfurion rolled his eyes and left her there.

Anduin looked away and shook his head, "No one that matters anymore." He said blankly, "You don't have to worry about her sitting on the throne. It's over."

"Do you have any idea what she did to me?" Jaina asked in disgust.

"She spared you." Anduin said blankly.

"Only because I saw the necklace you gave her. It was like something out of a nightmare, I barely survived, I could barely walk after getting slammed on the ground so many times. What she did… If the Horde has someone that powerful we need to be ready to deal with her if she comes back."

Anduin raised his eyebrows slightly, "You mean kill her?"

Jaina shrugged, "If it comes to that."

"What exactly did she do?" Tyrande faded in, stepped forward, and asked.

"Tyrande what are you doing here, I thought Anduin asked you to leave." Jaina looked back surprised.

"I arranged the meeting for them because I thought, well, I didn't think that Anduin would break her heart. I would have spared her that pain."

"I told you to leave, Tyrande." Anduin said angrily, seeming to try to keep his anger in control.

"And you said you would do anything to make up for what you said to me earlier. I heard about what you did in Lordaeron Jaina, but you've been walking with that staff like you actually need it as a walking stick."

Jaina looked at her angrily, "She invaded our home and she broke two highly influential prisoners out, that later nearly burned down Stormwind Port."

"And the fight itself?" She asked.

"Why do you care?" Jaina said angrily.

Tyrande looked away and remembered back, "I threatened to kill her for speaking ill of my husband. She seemed more than confident that I couldn't, and she mentioned you. Why haven't you seen a healer about your injuries?"

"I have!" Jaina yelled, she looked at Tyrande with glowing silver eyes that reverted to their blues. She flinched as a sudden pain came over her.

"Aunty, what happened?" Anduin asked concerningly.

Jaina looked back at him, "Don't show him." She whispered toward Tyrande. She lifted the back of her blouse that was wrapped in bandages. Green fel infused puss had already stained the clothes and a few blackened veins formed around the wound that went up and down her back. "She cut me with the Corrupted Ashbringer. Healers have managed to close the wound, but the pain doesn't stop, and it reopens every few hours."

Tyrande looked at the wound sympathetically, "Anduin, I need to tend to this." She put down Jaina's blouse.

"Let me see. I've studied the ways of the Light for most of my life, I should be able to heal her." Anduin explained.

Tyrande looked at him, put her hand out, and shook her head, "This goes beyond the limits of physical injuries. There is damage to her astral body, if I do nothing, her body will continue to grow weaker and the wound will keep reopening. I have some medicine from Darkshore and I'll have to perform an acupuncture procedure to stop poison blood from flowing."

Anduin swallowed hard, and nodded, "Of course. Please, do whatever you need. Thank you." He said concerningly.

Tyrande smiled, "It's fine. Jaina, do you have a place I could work?"

She nodded, "Yes, I'll teleport us to Dalaran. My old room should still be in order."

She lifted her hand as it was infused with arcane magic and teleported both her and Tyrande to her old room in the highest tower in Dalaran city.

"Take off your blouse and lay down flat on the bed." Tyrande said strictly.

She did as she was ordered.

With a knife she cut off Jaina's fel-stained bandages and using the Light of Elune she closed the wound, but she could sense the break in her astral form as she waved her hand over it. She took a red paint textured tonic and put it on the wound and with a black quill started to write various elvan symbols around the red painted area.

"That feels a lot better." Jaina stated. Tyrande took a small pouch of a dust like substance and lined it to the runes on her skin. "Ouch!" She yelled.

"Purifying salt, the wound should close now. I need you to sit up." She stated.

Jaina sat up, covering her chest with her arms leaning forward.

"This might hurt a little, your pores are swollen so the needles might pitch a few nerves." Tyrande explained.

Jaina nodded, "So what did Anduin say to you that would make him owe you a favor?" She flinched in pain as she felt the first needle pinch a nerve and dripped blood down her back.

Tyrande looked down, "Something out of character, but not completely his fault given the circumstances. They're both very young and in love." She massaged a blackened area of Jaina's back and put in another needle.

"Why did it have to be a member of the Horde? Hasn't anyone tried to throw suiters his way?"

"I heard from the grapevine that Genn has been trying for quite some time, but Anduin seemed like he didn't want to rush things, but the boy has been so repressed by priesthood I'm pretty sure he doesn't even know what's going on with his body."

"Meaning?"

She sighed, "Anduin has wanted peace in Azeroth for as long as he's been in the Priest order, despite past grudges, or people's objections. She came to Stormwind in disguise to try to atone for her actions in Darkshore, but she blew her cover because she still couldn't do the things that were out of character for her, but Anduin was still accepting of those things. But I knew there was something off about her." Tyrande looked down, "I think they must have inspired each other, and they unrealistically believe that peace is right around the corner."

Jaina shrugged slightly to not move the needles in her back, "Then why did he break up with her?" She flinched a little bit.

"I guess you're going to have to ask him yourself. The Sin'dorei have infused themselves to fel magic to prolong their life's. It's not surprising that they would use weapons with the same infusion the Burning Legion used, but this is a little different. I've only seen spiritual weapons inflict wounds like this and they usually don't leave a physical scar at least not until later."

Jaina clenches her teeth as she feels another needle go in.

"I'm sorry, did that hurt? I haven't done this in a while." Tyrande asked.

She shook her head, "No, your right hand is cold. What does a spiritual weapon usually do?"

Tyrande rubbed her hands together and breathed into them, "It starts from the inside out, there would be pain acute enough to cause trauma. To put it frankly you shouldn't even be conscious. A spirit using a spectral weapon will inflict so many of these wounds that the victim will eventually die of shock and mortals will write it off as a heart attack. But later the wounds will open up almost like someone violated the corpse, but people would know after that and start ghost hunting. But something both physical and spiritual is almost completely unheard of."

"What about all these artifact weapons that I've seen around? People have called a lot of them living weapons. The Ashbringer being one of them."

She laughed slightly, "Yes, but living doesn't mean spiritual, it means that, well, someone would have had to have died with the weapon for the spirit to use it. Even then, it would be impossible for someone living to wield a spiritual weapon. A person can't be both living and dead."

"What about Frostmourne?"

"From what I've heard about Frostmourne it was bonded with the spirit of a powerful shaman named Ner'zhul. The blade would rend flash and take life as all swords do, but the shaman enslaved the souls just as he could with the elements."

"Is that what has happened to the Ashbringer?" She asked nervously, "She was able to revert it to its corrupted form and then summon six others."

Tyrande looked confused, "I've heard about a few Death Knights that could summon an extra sword and that involves a form of astral projection. I think you know that Death Knights don't require a soul to fight, but six others?"

Jaina shrugged, "I've never heard of anything like this in all my studies, but I know there's a reason why necromancy was banned."

She shook her head, "It hasn't always been that way." She explained.

She looked back at her somewhat confused and grunted out an angry sound of discontent. "So, that's what I was dealing with? A practitioner of the dark arts, a necromancer." She shook her head disgustedly, "Maybe I should have killed her on that port."

Tyrande rolled her eyes, shook her head, and grunted out a slight laugh with her mouth shut, "Are you sure you want to hear this, because it seems like you never want to cross that line, you have your mind made up." She put in a needle and Jaina let out a welp of pain, "Sorry." She wiped off the blackened blood that almost dripped on Jaina's sheets, "I can focus on what I'm doing if I don't have to talk, but if you face her again you'll be fighting her with the same knowledge you did last time. Except the next time you'll be more afraid."

"I'm not afraid." Jaina said quickly. "I just know what she's doing is wrong now."

"Do you believe an evil tool could be used for a good thing?" She asked.

Jaina rolled her eyes, "Are you going to tell me that Frostmourne could have been used for good?"

Tyrande thought back, "You do know that several Death Knight's used fragments of the blade to defeat the Legion? So yes, it's possible."

She shrugged slightly, "I guess it couldn't hurt to listen."

Tyrande took a breath before she began to explain, "The word Necromancy comes from the word Nekromanteia which means divination by means of a dead body. There was a time where the practice was needed to help hunt down murders that seemingly had no witnesses. The victim of the murder could stand trial to answer questions about what he saw before he or she died. The practices were often compared to shamanism and there was no stigma or notion of wrongdoing when it came to necromancy, this is something that came much later."

She nodded slightly, "I guess that makes sense."

"There was a practice called Nekyria which essentially was a rite or a ritual where the dead would be called upon to answer questions about the future. Powerful sorcerers and sorceresses who were capable of both the raising and communion with the dead and also teaching these spells to other like minded individuals. One would have to first light a fire in the dark of night and then sacrifice animals whose blood will be given to the shades or spirits to drink. While doing this they would recite incantations given to them by their teachers, but a lot of these rituals went bad. Especially when apprentices started seeing members of their family or old friends and some came back and killed their instructors. But if everything went well an apprentice would drink the blood and learn the knowledge that is needed to go deep into the underworld and come back with your mind intact." Tyrande looked down and thought, "You may not want to believe this but before I was born I was told that many of the principles of the Arcane came from the journeys into the underworld. Necromancy wasn't an evil magic, almost the complete opposite actually, but a deep-rooted foundation of all magic, but a high-risk form of magic nonetheless, but that doesn't mean mages, sorcerers, and priests were not tested. It became somewhat of a common trope for practitioners to perform a Katabasis, a physical journey into the underworld that involved performing a task or a quest in many cases to commune with the dead. Also there was a practice to see if a mage or priest could protect themselves from possession. Harrowing it was called, and yes, I have done this before. The ones that would bring the dead back to life were referred to as necromancer's and when it came to summoning bodies for protection or knowledge they would mainly focus on those who had died recently within a year or two, but rituals of necromancy did tend to vary, and they could be quite grotesque, involving animal sacrifice, mutilation, and consumption of the dead. Other times something as simple as wearing the clothing of the deceased could manifest memories and temporary possessions."

"So, when did necromancy become this dark art? This school of magic that was considered unacceptable or taboo?"

She looked away and raised her eyebrows slightly, "Do you want my opinion or the facts?"

"I guess the facts." She said bewildered.

"Journey's into the underworld were not only dangerous for every single person going into them but rituals were unhealthy to say the least. Even elves' lives were cut short from frequent practicing of the art. It was implied that you only practice for a few years, take whatever knowledge you could and let that knowledge guide you for the rest of your existence, but then we learned about the Emerald Dream. It was less risky, and we had acquired enough knowledge to fill three elven lifetimes so there was really no point."

"That doesn't explain why it was deemed unacceptable."

"Because humans couldn't do it without killing themselves. Necromancers seemed to be capable of summoning entire new armies from the corpses that gave into many fears and hopelessness. They also have a level of knowledge obtained through communing with the dead that makes them more than just a formidable enemy. Human nations needed death to be final, so kingdoms could rise and fall, and winners could be seen as heroes and losers could be seen as villains." Tyrande shrugged, "Sorry that was an opinion."

Jaina smiled crookedly, "I guess I understand."

"When human kingdoms started to demonize it, we didn't think much of it. It was a tool that had already outlived its usefulness and some of us did agree with the human kingdoms that started to embrace the Light. The church of the Light believed that the raising of the dead could only be performed by a practitioner with an extremely strong faith in that Light, but the two are not too different. Practitioners are indeed capable of communion with the dead, enslaving them, and even gaining their knowledge. But what you've seen in the practice is a focus on raising the dead to form armies for their master and ultimately do their bidding. Necromancy was viewed as a craft that could only do harm and equated to raising demons who hid under the guise of spirits. We did agree with the humans that the act of raising the dead was indeed disrespectful and even evil in some cases, but that doesn't mean one would need to always view it through a lens of ill intent. Yes, it can be used in a negative way, but someone wanting closure for a close friend or loved one is something most of us can relate to."

Jaina nodded her head and understood slightly, "I spoke with my father. At least I think it was him."

"What did you learn?" She asked.

"I lit a torch and sang a song that I thought he'd be familiar with, and I found out where his boat had sunk. Then I brought it afloat."

"Well necromancy wasn't always considered a dark art and not all necromancers were depicted as evil. But I will advise you not to do that again without taking the proper precautions. I need you to see me if you start having nightmares about being trapped, or if you find yourself unable to move after you wake from sleep. " She breathed in as she remembered, "Necromancy is based on the same principles as shamanism. But unlike the elements that almost function as single cell organisms that grow more intelligent as they come together. Each spirit of the once living, has sentient intelligence. Necromancy is a thin line to walk on because even a grieving widow could draw an evil spirit posing as her husband, but even spirits can be enslaved the same way the elements can."

Jaina nodded as she tried to grasp it, but she recalled what she did with the Focusing Iris.

"Enslaving spirits for the sake of Necromancy never goes well for the user or the spirits. Once the master dies they are at the mercy of the spirits they've enslaved. There is also the danger of possession that can make the death of a cruel user more than possible. There is an interstice that straddles the line between the spirit realm and the physical one. The power of the Light situates you in the physical realm but in a position where you can sense the spiritual realm. You could say it's similar to being at the water's edge. Which is why some people can pull people back to the physical realm. The more elevated a life is on the physical realm the more permeance it has on the spiritual one and a spirit could create a spectral form. A ghost you see, that could indeed create a spiritual weapon, but to create physical matter that could damage both physical and spiritual? Frostmourne is the only blade I know of that could do that."

"Is such a weapon really impossible?"

"No, a reforged weapon that has taken countless lives could indeed cause both physical and spiritual damage. Silver is also potent, but it's an extremely soft and ductile metal even when mixed with steel and the purity of the mineral makes it impossible for it to hold a Fel-enchantment that could cause this kind of infection. Lastly, you said she summoned these weapons out of thin air; it's nearly impossible to summon just one."

Jaina nodded. "You know there's an old saying here in Dalaran, 'Anything that could possibly happen, will happen.' Lightning could strike the same place a hundred times regardless of the likelihood of that happening. I'd like to know, how could something like this happen? So, I can deal with it when it returns."

Tyrande nodded and began, "Always willing to learn I see, okay. Well, the spirit would have to be extremely powerful in their living lives for one, and like I said, elevated a life as well, and a willing participant and that would give the user one spiritual weapon that could form physical matter. Several spectral weapons means more powerful, willing participants, friends, family, maybe even lovers, each one turning their back on the peace that comes with the afterlife, each one willing to protect the user, else possession would be extremely likely. Lastly the user would have to have some knowledge or idea how to make these spirits bind to the users will, something paladins generally don't do, else they would be disorganized, even if they were all willing to fight. But even good spirits could accidentally possess the user. If the user's will isn't strong enough, which is why necromancers choose to bind the spirits they capture to an inanimate object. The user could confuse their own memories with that of the spirit until the user basically forgets who they are."

Jaina gasped slightly, "Do you think that is what happened to Arthas?"

"I don't know," Tyrande put in a needle and thought back, "If Arthas was at the mercy of spirits there would be chaos in the spirit realm. I do think there were sentient beings in the spirit realm that believed in his cause but if he was being tortured people would hear his suffering throughout Icecrown Citadel, but I think because Bolvar Fordragon took the mantle of Lich King he most likely sent Arthas's soul elsewhere without any suffering."

"How do you know so much about this?"

"My purpose has always been to bring balance. I've been a servant of Elune for over nine-thousand years."

Jaina looked back at her strangely, "What? Nine-thousand, there's no way that could be right. I know you're well over twelve-thousand years old, Tyrande."

She smiled slightly, "I haven't always worshiped justly, I've had other ambitions, other interests, and I've done many things I've regretted in my long life."

She nodded, "I won't press for the details." She laid back down flat.

"A great number of druids choose to make the Emerald Dream their permanent home. The restrictions found in the physical realm are much weaker while there, so manipulating reality and self through thought becomes quite easier. Unlike the underworld that is more like a crowded city, much of the Emerald Dream is like a blank canvas where what you can do is only limited by one's creativity. So much of the Light and even studies of the elements are dependent on faith and the individual. The books we write are meant to inspire the will to follow an example. Which is why our books are written as stories and philosophy, but the result is the same as your studies of the arcane."

"Meaning?" Jaina said curiously.

She shrugged slightly, "To put it simply. Power through faith and belief. Can I ask you; When you were fighting Perfectia Dawnlight did it seem like she lost confidence even for a second?"

"Is that really her name?" She said curiously, "It doesn't even sound Elvan, but it screams High Elf vanity. Wait… "She thought back for a second. "She couldn't be related to Kel'Donas Dawnlight could she?"

"That name doesn't ring any bells." She stated unbeknownst.

"She was an author or an artist, a really tall elf. A tailor to put it simply but… " She paused, "I mistook her books as coloring books when I was four. Basic Principles of Mana Weaving. She had more advanced books in the Arcane, but she would put her own designs of crystal formations to increase the effectiveness of spells. I colored those in as well."

"She was a mage? That's probably the reason why I didn't know her. I forbid any Kaldorei from practicing the principles of the Arcane."

"I got to meet her when I was five. She taught me how to use a loom and could thread faster than anyone I ever saw. But she wouldn't show one spell to me when I asked her to. She said that arcane magic is too dangerous for humans, better yet children. Little did I know she had sewed mana crystals into a lot of my clothes. She said, "If you're going to practice at least look ze part and protect yourself from backfire." Jaina said with a posh Thalassian accent, "'If ze arcane is your dream it is not ze sort of dream where you are permitted to wonder, or you will be little more zen an angry dog.'" Jaina laughed.

Tyrande looked at her confused, "I was told that you were nothing short of a child prodigy. If you had clothes that were infused with mana crystals that would mean."

"I cheated." Jaina said with a laugh. "I'm just a normal girl that wanted to learn because someone told me not to."

Tyrande laughed at that.

"She was so sophisticated and refined and had a very expensive taste. She was demanding and stuck up and used to have this funny way of laughing when she would beat a lowly peasant or an unintelligent sea barbarian as she would say. Like a high pitched, mocking, 'Oh-ohohohoh.'" She put her hand under her mouth and laughed.

"You sound like a villain, Jaina." Tyrande shrugged, stood up, crossed her arms, and started to remember something, "Dawnlight… wait."

Jaina looked back at her, "Is there something wrong?"

She shook her head, "No, it's just, there are a lot of High Elves with the word 'dawn' somewhere in their last name. I think I remember a kin of mine whose last name was Dawnlight that died in Teldrassil… What is her name again?" She tried to remember back, "Moriana… I just remembered someone that kept things… 'tense' among us. As in High Elves and Night Elves."

"Who?"

Tyrande looked upwards disgusted by the memory, "Someone that doesn't deserve to be remembered. Talanas Windrunner was a good friend of mine, I still remember when Sylvanas was a little girl. When the orcs slaughtered most of his clan he said, 'No one was meant to live forever.' Even after his only son died. That was a friendship that lasted for thousands of years. It may have prevented a war from breaking out between us. It's amazing what has transpired in the past 30." She shook her head, "Are you in any pain?"

"Oh, no. Are you done?"

She nodded, "There are 12 needles in your back and most of the blackened blood is gone." Tyrande quickly removed the needles from Jaina's pores and massaged the red tonic into her skin. "I need you to not shower for 24 hours or it will hurt worse than before."

Jaina put her blouse and shoulder armor back on and rotated her shoulders, "I feel a lot better."

She nodded, "You should, what are you going to do now?"

"I'm going to speak to Anduin with a calmer mind I suppose, do you need me to teleport you back?"

"No, this is the first time I've been here since this city has been in the air and I would like to take in the scenery if you don't mind." She explained.

"I've invited you here before. You didn't like the view in Northrend?" Jaina asked.

Tyrande looked outside and walked out of the open door that overlooked the Broken Isles. Jaina followed as the both looked outside, "There are less regrets here." She stated. "Good luck."

Jaina took the portals that were near Hero's Welcome for a change and used a griffin to fly back to Stormwind Keep as she tried to mentally prepare herself to talk to Anduin. "I spoke to Tyrande." She said when she saw him.

He looked away, slightly remembering her, "And your injury?"

She smiled, "Better."

"I'm glad to hear that." Anduin's smile seemed forced. "Does she know that I was sorry about what I said?" He asked.

She nodded, "She understands."

"And how do you feel?"

She sighed and shook her head remembering her first lover Arthas and her friend orc Thrall, "I've been down this road before Anduin, it will only lead to bad places."

Anduin looked away from her and took deep breaths like he was trying to keep his anger under control, "You nearly killed Thrall and how long did you two know each other before the bombing of Theramore?"

"Please, don't ask me about that."

"Because if it was Thrall you fell in love with, you might know that this isn't the same road!"

Jaina fell silent and nodded as Anduin brought up past events. The betrayal of her father, how she lied to the council of six, her inaction with the North Watch, her focus on study of the arcane over her negligence on diplomacy. He ranted and yelled about how she didn't do enough to make peace happen and even brought up the lovers she took. While Jaina just nodded and said, "You're right." And sometimes answered, "I don't know." For several long minutes.

Anduin was somewhat out of breath from yelling, "I remember when you were kind and fair and you truly wanted peace above all else. You were so admirable back then."

Jaina shrugged slightly, "I'm still that woman Anduin."

Anduin looked at her inquisitively, "Are you? Where were you during the Draenor campaign?"

Jaina shook her head and thought back, "I was in mourning for the loss of my home, so many of my friends died, I had to make sure their families were taken care of, and Khadgar was there so there wasn't really a need for my expertise. Also, he was involving himself with the Horde. Where were you?"

"Physical therapy, education, and prayer to the Light…" Anduin answered, "If you would have assisted Khadgar in Draenor, Gul'dan might have not even made it over here. Maraad might have also even survived." Anduin stated.

Jaina looked downward, "Are you blaming me for your father's death? If I remember correctly Vereesa told me that she told you that she had plans to kill Garrosh in his cell."

Anduin nodded, "That's true and if he died, eventually I would have found out what you were up to with the Sunreavers. But I guess that's the difference between me and you isn't it… A stone can be used to kill someone, or it could be used to build something." Anduin remembered words from Garrosh's trial, "I forgave him for everything he did to me, I was in excruciating pain for months and I still feel the effects of that bell today! The Sunreavers were willing to forgive you for what you did to them, because the Legion was such a greater threat and you threw a tantrum like a spoiled child. The world was on the brink of destruction and you did nothing! Because things weren't going the way you wanted them too, but when you smelled vengeance on the shore and, well, here you are. Without even so much as a 'Hey Anduin, I've come out of exile, maybe we should catch up,' you show up out of nowhere because you finally had your chance to dismantle the Horde."

Jaina nodded, "Yes, you're right."

"Have you been listening to anything I've been saying?!" He yelled.

She only nodded.

Anduin nodded, "You know, that's why I need you. Whatever your motivations are." He looked upward, "I spoke with Valeera Sanguinar while you were gone. Do you know her?"

She shrugged slightly, "We haven't been formally introduced but I know of her. She helped your father regain himself and aided in the fight with Onixia. I saw her briefly in the Undercity as well."

"I wanted to know if anything had gone on between her and my father."

"What did she say?"

"She angrily stated that it was none of my business, but when I explained my situation, she told me that the woman that killed my grandfather fell into the arms of the Guardian Medivh and they had a son named Med'an. That she, with Med'an, fought Cho'gall, and freed Garona Halforcen from his possession that made her kill my grandfather in the first place. You know he could have taken the title of Guardian if he wanted to, but with his mother he disappeared after that and he hasn't been seen or heard from again. Valeera thinks they're still together," He smiled at the thought, "Making up for lost time." Anduin put his hand over his mouth and looked away. "Med'an didn't know his mother until he was about my age. Her story made me a little envious and then I started thinking if we made peace could Sylvanas bring my mother back?" He stated with belief.

"Anduin…"

He smiled slightly, "You know we could just disappear, I could find Perfectia again, and we could…"

"You're not thinking rationally." She interrupted.

"And why should I be taking your advice? You were going to kill her, weren't you?" He shook his head, "No, there has to be something, I just haven't figured it out yet. You're supposed to be helping me, Aunty."

Jaina looked at him sympathetically, "I saved your life Anduin, I told you we should turn back because we were outnumbered, but I didn't know what came over you, you said you were willing to die, and for what?"

Anduin looked away and remembered seeing Perfectia across the battlefield, "I really didn't want to live then, I felt betrayed, and I was in a lot of pain." He stated with grief in his voice.

"You still are," Jaina looked at him, "Because of her. Why did you break up with her then? I didn't have anything to do with that."

Tears were forming in his eyes as he looked at her, "Because she hates you and she's already tried to kill you twice. I've tried to kill her twice as well."

"But she spared me because she cares about you. If I knew anything, if I knew there was any acquaintance with you two at all, I wouldn't have said those things to her. I think we could have talked things out. I'm sorry I didn't know."

Anduin shook his head, "No… " Anduin looked down, nodded, and looked at Jaina, "…I'm sorry. You've been more than patient with me. By the Light what have I been saying?"

She nodded slightly, "You know when Arthas betrayed his own kingdom. I told myself that I wanted an explanation for everything he did. I was still in love with him though, I thought maybe I could melt his frozen heart, but as it turned out. I think he was avoiding me, because… well, I don't know."

Anduin sat back down and nodded, "Because he was a monster and he didn't want to hurt you." He shook his head, "I'm the king the Alliance needs, I may be filling in my father's shoes quite well. The Horde will be dealt with and if there's another threat, I'm confident that I'll be able to deal with that as well. It's been like that for over 30 years. Before I was even born. This is what I was trained to do, this is what I was bred to do, this is what I was born to do, and I'm sure my father would be quite proud."

Jaina looked at him confused, "You're a hero Anduin." Jaina stated, "So many of us would follow you into hell."

Anduin nodded, "Yes, I'm a hero to my people, but I'm a monster to them…" He looked away, shook his head, and put his hand over his mouth, trying to repress his tears, "…to her." He took a breath in, "Sylvanas needs to be stopped, the undead shouldn't exist, the orcs need to be neutered, the blood elves need to realize that they are broken, and they'll never have what they used to. The rest I think should fall into place, the trolls, goblins, and tauren." He explained, not making eye contact.

Jaina was disturbed by what he was saying. He was talking about committing genocide and it made her think the moment she last saw Arthas enter Stratholme, "I'm sorry Anduin, I…" She put her hand on her head and shook it as she realized she was going to say the same words to Anduin as she did to Arthas.

Anduin saw her shaking her head in pain, "Are you okay Jaina?"

"Your children will most likely be blonde." She managed to say out loud, as she put her hand down and looked at him.

He looked at her somewhat shocked, looked away, smiled, and blushed slightly, "I suppose." He said as he shrugged with a slight repressed smile, "I've never really liked elf ears but…" He laughed, "Why are we talking about this?"

"Because you're not Arthas, so don't start acting like him. I know you're in pain but don't let that pain turn you into a monster." Jaina looked down as she remembered herself, "I'm aware of how hypocritical that is, but I won't leave you, I'll help in any way I can." Words she wished she could have told Arthas that day.

Anduin looked up at her and nodded, "She was wrong about you, I'm glad you survived Jaina. Not just because I need you on the battlefield."

"Here." She tossed him a pear and he caught it, "Perfectia does look like one."

Anduin smiled and looked down at the fruit, "I miss her, or just the idea of her, and I just felt like we were so close, I'm so sorry, I know this isn't your fault." He looked up and thought back with a smile, "That woman is extremely proficient in one of the deadliest weapons in Azeroth."

"The Ashbringer?" Jaina questioned.

Anduin shook his head and laughed slightly, "A quill." He handed Jaina the poem Perfectia wrote, "She told me to give that to you and told me not to read it. Don't expect it to be flattering, she does hate you quite a lot."

"Why?" Jaina asked, "Other than the fact she thought I was trying to take you from her."

Anduin looked downward, "She was there when you exiled the Sunreavers. Read it out loud."

Jaina looked down and remembered, "I didn't know so many would turn into Wretched, but I suppose that's no justification… " She said and started reading,"

Tread lightly, she is near

Under arcane snow,

Speak gently, she can hear

Where daisies won't grow

Her one bright golden hair

Tarnished with rust

She that was young and fair

Fallen to dust

Rest lily white as snow,

She hardly knew

She was a woman, so

Vengeful she grew.

Regret heavy as stone

Lie on her breast;

That she's not atoned

She is at rest

Peace, peace; that she cannot hear

Through song or sonnet;

Unmarked graves buried here

And heaped earth upon it."

She stopped reading, "I guess I'm getting it here too." She stated.

"What do you mean?" Anduin asked.

"In my home there's a song about me. About how I betrayed my father. I didn't think much of it then because Thrall and Rexxar were my friends. I thought in the long run all of Azeroth would benefit. I even helped Baine when Thunder Bluff was being invaded. The meeting we had with you, your father, Garrosh, and Thrall, do you remember? It was in Theramore."

Anduin nodded, "Yes, but my father was attacked by Garona Halforcen."

Jaina was somewhat angered by the memory and she nodded her head, "I looked back on those times and I think that I was so naively optimistic, I was always trying to push for peace. Trying to be the link between the Alliance and Horde and look what it got me. Homeless with a head full of grays."

Anduin shrugged slightly, "You're not alone Jaina, depression is a privileged disease, and it tells you that you're not poor."

Jaina looked at him confused, "Excuse me?!"

Anduin looked down in shame, "Sorry, she rubbed off on me a little."

She looked away a little relieved, "Oh…" She smiled slightly, "...Funny.

Regret heavy as stone

Lie on her breast;

That she's not atoned

She is at rest

That's actually quite accurate. I think I need to go."

"Where?" Anduin asked.

"Home." She stated.

(Meanwhile)

Perfectia walked into Grommash Hold and looked at the warchief Sylvanas Windrunner, "He won't stay with me, he won't meet with me…" Perfectia put her head down, "He won't love me." She put her hand over her face.

Sylvanas rolled her eyes and shrugged, "I'm sorry."

"No you're not!" Perfectia screamed with tears falling from her eyes, "You've never loved anyone but yourself, you never wanted anything but vengeance. Nathanos loves you and you treat him like garbage and I know why! You don't want love from anyone, you just want everyone to be as miserable as you are. So, will you let me give you a hug now, will you be my friend in your pity party?"

Sylvanas let out a long drawn out sigh and shook her head, "Everyone out." Sylvanas said softly. She looked around confused, "Did you not hear me, I said OUT!" She ordered.

"NO! Two of you stay!" Perfectia ordered. She pulled the Ashbringer from her back with her left hand and pointed it at Sylvanas in a Quarte position. Arm inward, tip pointing outward. "I don't care which one of you stay." She stated.

Sylvanas looked at Perfectia confused, "Are you issuing a Mak'gora?"

Perfectia nodded, "Do you accept?" Perfectia demanded.

Sylvanas stepped down and looked at her suspiciously, "You only have one good arm, not even your sword arm, and a broken Ashbringer that you can barely hold up."

"I said, 'Do you accept?!'" Perfectia demanded.

Sylvanas got close to her sword, "I don't accept." She raised her eyebrows slightly, "The mantle of Warchief is yours, but do you think that will make him love you?" She asked.

Perfectia looked away and shook her head at her, "No, no, you're… "She looked at Sylvanas, "We're supposed to fight to the death, those are the rules." She stated.

Sylvanas looked at Perfectia closely, "You want to hurt him by throwing your life away."

"JUST SAY YES, SAY YOU EXCEPT!" Perfectia screamed.

Sylvanas looked away sympathetically, but back at her, "Do you think if you were warchief that he would love you?" She asked again.

Perfectia looked away and shook her head, "No." She let the tip of the Ashbringer fall on the ground, "I don't want to be Warchief."

"Everyone leave, this isn't a Mak'gora." Sylvanas ordered.

The last two left.

Perfectia laid the Ashbringer on the ground, fell to her knees, and held her hand over her face.

"You're wrong you know. I do want love…" Sylvanas explained.

Perfectia thought back, "But Nathanos…"

Sylvanas rolled her eyes and sighed slightly, "I don't love him, I've never loved him, I will never love him, but that doesn't mean that I don't want love, and I don't want everyone to be as miserable as I am, and especially not as miserable as you are."

Perfectia gave her an angry look.

"I'm sorry, that was uncalled for." Sylvanas moved to a table, sat on it, and gestured toward another table next to it. Perfectia sat on the other table on the other end of her, "Don't speak of this to anyone, I'm trusting you, as a friend." Sylvanas explained.

Perfectia looked away and shrugged slightly.

Sylvanas began, "Nathanos was one of the only human rangers in the Farstriders at the time and most of my kind were a little disgusted with him but they couldn't deny his skill. Nathanos Marris had certain traits that I immediately found appealing and one of the most prominent was his penchant for taking risks and coming out on top. He wasn't a young upstart wanting to be guided into greatness but also wasn't a centuries old member fearing that everything they worked for could be gone in one second in a battle. He knew that he came from nothing and he would die with nothing, he told me that he was expendable and with that, I threw him at the most dangerous members of the Horde. When he would win I was drawn to him and I knew he was very attracted to me. It was even more strange because I was the Ranger General of Silvermoon. Most men were afraid of me, they knew at the most I could kill them easily or at the least strip them of rank and power." Sylvanas laughed, "That didn't stop him from making his affection for me very obvious.

He brought me a flower and I threatened to kill him. Nathanos said, 'I could bring you gems if that's what you would like.' Right in front of everyone, in front of my people, but he only had to look at them for them to stand down. Even as a soldier in my command I could see he had power that had taken me decades to obtain and I told him I could strip him of rank and he just shrugged, smiled, and walked away. He had this playful attitude toward everything and he didn't just take risks with extremely dangerous enemies, he took a risk with an extremely dangerous… Well, me.

He made his way into my private tent with gems this time, I drew my arrow, and he placed them on the nightstand by my bed. He told me that he lived to serve me, if I wanted him to die he would die, but it would be such a waste of his talents that could be used elsewhere, in matters of war and love. During that time there was almost a week of downtime. No fighting, no battles, just patrols and training. He was bored, I suppose, and so was I. I looked away and told him there were plenty of elves that admired him, that he could easily take to bed. Nathanos said, 'There's only you. My life is yours. My bow is yours…' he paused, '…my heart is yours. Send me to kill your enemies anywhere… and I'll go.' I smiled, and I told him to take off his clothes."

"Did you?" Perfectia hinted.

Sylvanas nodded, "Many times, yes. I was somewhat pleasantly surprised when I passed my blood those weeks because I found out my sister Alleria was carrying from just one night with Turalyon, but I never really saw a future with Nathanos. I was clearly attracted to him, but in the end, I had no problem leaving him. I said farewell to a man who loves me, a man I thought I cared for, and I felt nothing."

"Why?" Perfectia asked.

Sylvanas looked away as she thought back, "I don't know, he was missing something. He was simple, he only did what he wanted to do. He pursued me because he found me physically attractive, but I think that's all we cared about, the feelings on both sides were relatively shallow. I think he was genuinely impressed with my character by the end of our time together, but when I left, he seemed mostly disappointed that he would never have a conquest with the same status or title. I knew he would never forget me, I knew that he would most likely brag about me, and I knew there would be plenty more women after me. So, it wasn't incredibly heart-wrenching to leave him behind. In addition, he didn't really seem to care about anything more than his own personal pleasure and he stated that repeatedly. Nathanos wanted what he wanted, and he would go after that, and that confidence was what I found attractive, but it wasn't love."

"Do you love him now?" Perfectia asked.

Sylvanas shook her head, "No, even if we were both still alive. Even now he seems to have no vision or principles beyond his own self-interest and mine. You love people that have principles, have character, a purpose that is bigger than themselves, and you love people who inspire you to be more through their example and I think that's why you fell in love with Anduin…" She paused, looked Perfectia in the eyes, and leaned forward, "…and he fell in love with you." Sylvanas looked away, "A very rare few amounts of people would even think of walking behind enemy lines in disguise and declaring their love to an enemy king." Sylvanas shook her head, "It was stupidly reckless, and seemingly impossible, but here you are."

Sylvanas thought back, "I didn't think of Nathanos once while I was fighting Arthas, I mean we had the numbers, we knew the areas, how could I have predicted a betrayal in my own people? When I was under his control and I couldn't make a single move without his permission I kept thinking maybe one of Nathanos's poisonous arrows would find its way into Arthas's neck and free me from that torment."

Sylvanas thought back disgustedly, "Then that cursed mage. Jaundace, was somehow free from Frostmourne's control because of love? I had never been so disgusted and yet regretful, and angry that we couldn't love each other. But I tried to focus on the idea that… what if things were just a little different?" Sylvanas's half smiled, "It became harder for Arthas to control me after that, when I thought about being in his embrace again. Until I was in complete control again."

"Did you see him again?" Perfectia asked.

Sylvanas nodded, "After I killed Grand Marshal Garithos and I was surprised. He ran up to me while I was on my horse, killed a few of my Forsaken troops and declared his undying love for me. He got down on his hands and knees and begged me to forgive him for not being there, it was truly pathetic. Like I was some kind of injured puppy that needed to be nursed back to health. I was angry and disgusted, not only because he wasn't there when I needed him, but the memory of seeing him grovel after remembering him so handsome and confident was completely destroyed. I said I was surprised to see him, but before, being next to him would make my cheeks blush and my lips and loins burn. Maybe it was the curse of the undead, maybe it was the pathetic scene he made of me and himself, but what I think it was, was that, why didn't he do this before? It was like he knew that he wasn't good enough for me and now that I was cursed, now all of a sudden, I was. So, when I passed my curse onto him, I felt no sympathy, he would be a tool in my disposal, and I kept him in the Plaguelands so I would never have to be reminded of what could have been."

Sylvanas half smiled, "I suppose over time I became less angry and after my sister Vereesa rejected my offer to kill Garrosh Hellscream in his cell, and I was declared Warchief of the Horde things were a lot lonelier from that point on, so which is why he hasn't left my side. I think he still loves me, but I don't think I can ever return it. We don't talk about times past, we were different people, and if he died tomorrow I would only be at a loss of losing a talented soldier. I suppose it would be a little lonelier."

Perfectia nodded slightly, "How old are you anyways?"

Sylvanas looked at Perfectia somewhat confused. But looked up and thought, moving her fingers in her hand about, "17." She answered.

Perfectia laughed, "You're not 17."

Sylvanas smiled, "Yes I am. I stopped counting my Elvan years a long time ago, I was free from Arthas's control on October 18th. I consider it my birthday."

Perfectia looked up and remembered, "That's when the Hallow End events start."

Sylvanas nodded, "It's a shame I won't be able to burn the wickerman this year. I always liked doing that."

Perfectia smiled, "I'm sure we'll figure something out."

Sylvanas half smiled, "I hope so. Promise me you won't tell anyone that, I would hate a traditional birthday party."

Perfectia shook her head and held up her hands defensively, "No, I won't. I mean, you have it the way you want it, right?"

Sylvanas nodded.

Perfectia looked down, thought back, and looked at her, "Your brother's still alive." She shrugged slightly, "Happy Birthday." She said,

Sylvanas looked at her in shock, "What?"

Perfectia looked away as she started to recall, "Lirath, I met him when I was a child on Quel'Lithien Lodge and I saw him recently in Draenor before the Alliance invaded Lordaeron. Kel'thuzad brought him back before the invasion of Silvermoon. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, he made me promise not to say anything. My vows to the Light were connected to him."

Sylvanas looked bewildered, "You could have said something, why didn't you say anything sooner? I looked for him where he was buried, you know."

Perfectia looked away and shrugged, "I'm sorry, I needed my power back then, for Illidan, and Arthas. We were just so focused on vengeance back then and I was afraid it… it would make you weak. I went back to Quel'Lithien Lodge and I couldn't find him, but that was after Arthas died, and I figured what was the point?"

"And you're depression." Sylvanas recalled.

Perfectia looked at her bewildered, "You remember that?"

Sylvanas nodded, "Everything I felt since I changed has been diluted, joy, love, pain, despair and I knew you felt the same way I felt when Arthas died." She looked up and remembered back, "But when I saw you 300 pounds, blind, pale, shaking, and screaming 'I'll kill you', I was grateful for what he did to me. Everything you went through was unfiltered, undiluted, I made sure Garrosh redoubled his efforts to make sure you survived what he was putting you through."

She looked down, remembered back, and shrugged, "Thank you."

"And you look so much better now."

Perfectia smiled, "If my eyes didn't turn blue I might have got what I wanted."

"Meaning?" She asked curiously.

"I was trying to eat and drink myself to death. Because you know how the Light is, suicide is frowned upon."

Sylvanas took a deep breath and nodded, "Maybe if you were there I wouldn't have jumped off of Icecrown Citadel. And to answer your question from before, I didn't see Lirath."

Perfectia thought back as she remembered what people had told her, "But maybe these things happen for a reason. I lost most of the weight after spending six months chained inside Ragefire Chasm and you wouldn't have the Valkyrie if you haven't jumped."

Sylvanas looked away and shook her head as she recalled, "I'm running out of those you know, but why hasn't Lirath come forward yet?"

Perfectia looked away as she remembered, "He said he would be coming forward soon, but he was waiting for the war to end, between the Alliance and Horde. Said, he didn't want to be involved in anyone's war. He's been living in exile."

"Nathanos said you have a book with my family's crest." She stated.

Perfectia didn't say anything and she just looked away.

"I'll give it back to you, I just want to see it."

Perfectia nodded, pulled it from her bag, and showed it to her, "The book was originally my mother's, but he added the embroideries and locking mechanisms."

Sylvanas looked at the dragonhawk crest, nodded, and laughed slightly. She touched her eye slightly with her hand, "He is alive." She looked down, shook her head, and looked up at Perfectia, "Thank you." Sylvanas hugged Perfectia which surprised her.

Perfectia smiled as she couldn't move her arms, "I thought you said you hated it when I did this?"

Sylvanas laughed, "I do. I'm sorry about Anduin, you didn't deserve what he did to you."

Perfectia nodded, "You don't have to be lonely anymore."

Sylvanas nodded, "I'm going to need a minute to put my brooding face back on, I'm sure it will shock a lot of people if they saw their Warchief smiling."

Perfectia nodded and started out the door but stopped. She took off the necklace that held Anduin's picture and looked at it. Sylvanas noticed and nodded at her. Perfectia looked at the picture, tilted her hand to the side, let the necklace fall on the floor, and left Grommash Hold.

Sylvanas went to the necklace and saw the picture. She picked it up and sighed. She shook her head, thought about her baby brother, and put the necklace in her pocket.

Poem is an adaptation of Oscar Wilde; Requiescat, Robert Burns's; My Luve, and Thomas O. Davis; A Welcome

Lines from the Berserk anime.