Hope you enjoy this chapter!
Disclaimer: Don't own War Craft…made up some of the characters though…
A splitting sensation in her head and aching in every single muscle greeted her as she opened her eyes. Biting her lip to keep from crying out she took a deep breath and sat up. Grabbing her head with her hands she closed her eyes trying to keep the dizziness at bay.
"You all right?"
His voice sent splinters straight through her head and she tried to remember what exactly had caused such pain. Flames. Fire. Searing power licking at her fingertips. The magic. She had let it consume her in a way that she had never felt before. It had bubbled up from her very soul so uncontrolled and wild. So powerful.
She had loved it. Loved the feeling of the sense of spinning out of control, loved the feeling as the trolls burst into flames. She lusted for it. Never before had she wanted something so much, that feeling of magic surging through her unchecked. Even with the repercussions she wanted it.
If she could only learn to control it then she would not feel this way afterwards. She could control it; she knew that she could if she tried. All she needed was another opportunity.
"I am fine," she answered at last.
Slowly she drew her hands away and opened her eyes, the sun burned into them unforgivably but she did her best to ignore it. Allowing Ream to help her up she staggered forward before steadying herself. The world was slowly coming into focus and she looked around.
The caravans were being hastily patched up; luckily they had been carrying back a small shipment of lumber. She walked over to the workers and picked up the other end of a board that a man was attempting to lift into place. He looked over at her in thanks but upon seeing who it was gave a tight, nervous smile.
"That was ah, that was something last night," his low-pitched voice did nothing to conceal the fact that he was uncomfortable.
"Yes," she answered shortly. She wished that they would just forget about it. Right when they had been beginning to accept her she had thrown them back into a panic. "How long do you believe this will take?"
"We're only fixing the necessary parts, perhaps another half hour?"
Another half hour and they would be on their way again. "And how long until we arrive in Thal-Morian?"
He looked towards the sky, "I would say by tomorrow morning. It would be faster without all this," he motioned towards the stretching wagons.
She nodded; she knew exactly how long it would take without the wagons. She also had the feeling that they had no idea that she and Ream had been back to the city. It needed to stay that way. As long as everyone thought they had been held up while out scouting then there was no way they could be connected to the disappearance of the orc. "Are you ready to get back?" she asked out of necessity, the silence had been unnerving.
"Seeing my wife and little one is something I always look forward to," he gave her a genuine smile and she could feel them both relaxing. Still holding the board while another man began hammering it in place he continued talking to her, "What about you, any one in particular you're looking forward to seeing. Or are you and Ream…"
She laughed, "No, I suppose you could say that I am Ream's mentor. The boy had never held a bow before I met him."
The man's eyes widened in surprise, "You've done an excellent job with him then. You still didn't answer my question though," he winked at her. "Pretty thing like you, surely you've got someone waiting?"
Hesitating she thought about it, did she have someone waiting…or were her final scathing words to much for him… "No," she said at last. She did not feel like explaining it all to a stranger. A simple straightforward answer was easier.
"That's all right, you aren't alone though are you?" he asked, suddenly realizing that she was a night elf. Admittedly the first time he had met her he had been suspicious. He had never heard of a night elf entering human lands before, there had to be a reason why one was there now. The more he had seen of her though the more he had gotten used to her. And the more he had realized that there was little difference between elves and humans. It would be a pity if she felt isolated and alone.
"I have friends, yes. You know Illyath correct?"
The man grinned, "Of course I do, he's the one who set me up with this blasted job. It figures that he would take you in; he pretends that he's rough and heartless but I know that he isn't. A bit ruthless at times but definitely not heartless."
She had to agree, Illyath was anything but heartless. The man had taken an orc into his own home and had put his own life and reputation at risk for it. He was someone to be admired. Well…maybe not admired but he definitely had redeeming qualities.
Once the board was firmly in place they dropped their arms, she smiled at him. "It was nice to meet you..." she trailed off realizing she did not know his name.
"Ephram," he offered with a smile.
The caravan was back underway before the sun had risen to the noon mark. It seemed that either people had already forgotten about her role in the night before or they just preferred to forget about it. No one commented on it though they did talk to. They were companionable conversations, teasing and joking to pass the time. She was glad for it; it distracted her from the fact that she had taken such pleasure in power. It was not just that however, for the first time among a group of humans she actually felt welcome, she felt as if she were part of something.
Ephram had been right and the next morning they rolled slowly into Thal-Morian, but not to the welcome they had expected. Chaos. That was the only word she could find that could describe what she was seeing.
The guards were crawling everywhere as were the milita. Knights were seen on their massive warhorses exiting the gates, craning her neck Carya tried to see if Agraelith was among them. How could things have happened so quickly since she had last left?
The banner of Thal-Morian was flying high above the guard towers, unfurled in a proud show of colors. The emblazoned gryphon seemed to come alive in the morning light as the wind gently lifted it into flight.
"Has the war started already?" Ream asked nervously, sidling up next to her.
She shook her head; if the war had started they would never have made it to the gates. "Not yet Ream, but soon it looks like."
There were murmurs among the mercenary guard, if war was upon them they too would be called to battle. Not out of duty but out of honor. This was a battle against pure evil, a battle for there lives, for everything they believed in. It was believed that mercenaries had no honor, that they fought for the highest bidder without a thought of morality. Now however they were ready to prove themselves.
Carya scanned the skies half expected to see their feathered prophet, he was no where to be seen. Had he abandoned them to their plight? His words echoed harshly in her mind and she groaned inwardly. She and Agraelith, according to the old prophet's words it was their bond that would get them through the upcoming battle. For whatever reason the outcome rested on them…which was not a comfort to her. Their relationship had formed a crack and she wondered if it could be repaired in time.
It was her fault, she knew that it was. She had pushed him and pushed him, she worried that perhaps this time it was cliff that she had pushed him off of.
Once the caravan was safely returned and the mercenaries paid they looked around at each other uneasily.
Jaryn was the first to break the silence, "Well, I suppose we should go see what all the fuss is about."
They all tried to avoid looking at one another. They already knew.
Grabbing Ream's arm she was getting ready to pull him away when she saw Ephram, his head hung in defeat.
He looked up as she approached and tried to smile at her, "I just got back, and now I find myself about to enlist in a war. How do I tell that to my wife? How do I look my little girl in the face again and tell her that I might never come back?"
"You don't. You look her in the face and tell her that you must leave because you wish to protect you. You tell her that you leave because you wish to have the opportunity to watch her grow up in a free world," she grasped his shoulder. "Your wife will understand. It is a time of war, everyone is involved in this. When you ride we all ride beside you. This whole city will be there beside you."
Sharply he glanced at her, "You too are going?"
"I am a night elf, I was born for war," she replied.
"It is strange to me to think of it. I suppose we put our women on pedestals most of the time."
Carya shrugged and grinned, "No one would put me on a pedestal."
He laughed, "I suppose not."
She once again took hold of Ream's arm, "I will hopefully see you again Ephram," she told him before dragging Ream away.
"What's the rush?" Ream tried to slow down but she kept pulling him.
"Look around, there is a war coming and we must prepare."
"Can you at least tell me where we're going?"
She skidded to a halt with an incredulous look, "You are going back to your parents. I am going to find out exactly what is going on."
He wrenched his arm from her grip, "My parents?"
"Yes, you are far too young to be involved in this."
"But what you just said to Ephram! We're all involved, me included. I'm old enough to fight, I've proved that!"
By the gods, she should have known this was coming. "Ream, this isn't a skirmish this is war against the undead."
"Exactly, I want to fight them!" he hissed.
Shaking her head she stood her ground, "No, this is far to dangerous and I will not have you involved in it."
"What about you then?" he snapped.
"What about me?" her patience was beginning to wear thin.
"You're a woman, why should you get to fight and I can't?"
Sucking in her breath she tried to control her temper. Humans and their ways, she would never understand them. "I've explained it to you. Night elf women are warriors, for thousands of years we have fought in battles and I intend to fight in this one."
"Have you been in a war before?" he looked clearly confident that the answer was going to be no.
"Of course I have," she snapped. "I watched as my best friend died."
He looked taken aback, "I…sorry…I didn't know."
"Of course you couldn't have. Now as I said, you are going back home with your parents where you belong. You have improved tremendously but you are not ready for a battle such as this. Even I do not know if I'm prepared."
"Yet you fight anyways, so why shouldn't I?"
She put her hands on his shoulders, "Ream please just listen to me, this war is not for you. Maybe someday you will have your own battle to fight but please Ream, stay out of this one."
"But Carya, I want to fight alongside you. I want to fight for what I believe in!"
She never should have decided to help him in the first place; she knew that this would happen. "Go home," she said sternly. Then softening slightly she pulled him into a tight hug.
"If I never see you again, I just want to say thank you," he murmured.
She pushed him back, "Of course we will see each other again."
"Sometimes people don't come back from war…" he could not meet her eyes.
"I promise you that we will see each other again. The war is not here yet, it will not be here tomorrow either…there is still time yet," she smiled encouragingly at him but still he looked away.
"But what if you don't come back?" he asked at last.
"I can not promise you anything…look at me," she said softly. Searching his eyes she went on, "But I can promise you that we will see each other again before the war is ended."
"How can you be so sure?"
"You must have hope…as long as you believe in it then hope will always be there."
He looked down, "I believe there is hope," he said at last.
"Good, then go now."
"May your goddess be with you," he said.
At his words she felt a deep sense of gratitude, "Thank you. Now go on," she gave him a small push and he began pushing his way through the throng of people. He looked back at her and she waved to him, unsure if he could see her through the crowd.
When he had been swallowed by the people she turned and began to make her own way home. Home. This was her home now and by the gods and goddesses would she do everything in her power to keep it that way. Thal-Morian would stand, the gryphon would not fall, she would see to it that it was so.
Hoping that she could keep her silent vows she finally found herself at Illyath's door. Knocking on it she prayed that he was home, nearly laughing from relief when it swung open.
"Good, I was waiting for you," he ushered her in. "The whole city has gone mad, everyone is in a panic."
She nodded, "So I saw. What exactly is going on?"
"What's going on you ask? This is what is going on. First off there was the whole fact of the orc going missing and talk of black arts and the like. That of course set some people off. Then word came that the undead army had attacked a town not to far from here, completely leveled it. As in there's nothing left at all, just a burnt smear. No survivors, nothing."
"No survivors? But who—"
"Your dear prophet friend brought word," his face was grim.
"He was here?"
"Oh yes, caused quite a stir. Landed in the blasted courtyard and changed back to his doddering old self. Then proceeded to yell until all the proper authorities came, of course they tried to put him in the stocks for blasphemy or heresy or whatever the like. Of course they couldn't get near him and he started spouting his prophesies and going on about how if we don't unite with our enemies, the orcs and night elves, then we're all going to die," Illyath was shaking his head as if he still could not believe it.
"Did he say anything else?"
"Of course he did, basically he told us that we have less then a week to get our act together before the undead arrive. Arthas included."
So it was true. The orc had been telling the truth, her heart sank. Arthas was coming for her, but why? Why was she so important to him, surely it was not just because she was a night elf.
"And that my dear is why the city has turned to utter chaos. Of course the knights are assembling and the foot soldiers and every one else. Even the elves seem to have lost some of their conceit, no not the night elves. High elves, free elves, or whatever they are."
She nodded, it was beginning. If the elves were beginning to sense it then it was no doubt true that there was a battle soon to come.
"I need a blacksmith," she said suddenly.
"Why?"
"I need proper armor and more arrows. Star may need armor as well."
Illyath stared at her, "Did you say Star may need armor?"
"Yes, it is not typically used of course but I am sure that some could be made for her."
"You mean, that cat is going into battle?"
"I had heard that she was quite large now."
"Well, yes but…"
Carya spoke as if he was completely dense, "Believe me Illyath, that cat may just save your life."
"All right then," he still seemed skeptic. "There's an excellent blacksmith who should be able to have armor ready for you in time."
"Wonderful, can we go now?"
Illyath looked uncomfortable. "Well you see…there may be a slight problem with that."
"What is it?"
"He's a erm…well..you know…" he trailed off listlessly. Maybe he should have never brought it up.
"He's a what?" she asked puzzled by his strange behavior.
"He's an elf…one of those elves. The elves Agraelith told me that you didn't get along with so well."
That made sense, elves worked quite well with metals. Still… "Is there no other blacksmith?"
"Of course there is," he looked shocked that she would even ask that.
"Then why can we not go to him?"
His face fell, "Because at the moment he's attempting to mass produce decent swords for all the milita. And at the same time he's trying to get all the horses properly shod. And he's also trying to patch up some of the knight's armor."
"Isn't the elf just as busy?" she asked hopefully.
"No, even though we're allies there's still a bit of discrimination that goes on. Don't get me wrong, he's popular enough but he won't be nearly as busy."
She weighed her options and came to find that there really was only one thing to be done. "All right then, where's Star?"
Illyath blanched, "Please tell me you aren't serious, you can't bring her with us."
"If she's to be fitted as well then she must come."
Carya soon found out why Illyath had been so reluctant. Star's head was now above her waist. The big cat knocked her over when she entered the yard, her large tongue nearly covering her face. Carya laughed and rubbed her silken stomach, "You've grown some haven't you?"
"Now that is an understatement isn't it?" Illyath muttered under his breath. He loved the cat, he really did…but this was ridiculous. The thing could kill him with no force what so ever. All it had to do was swat at him and he would be dead.
"Who has been taking care of her?" Carya stood up and brushed herself off, looking at Illyath for a response.
"Agraelith, he comes by here every day to make sure she's all right," he shifted slightly. "You know Carya, maybe you should go talk to him. You haven't even asked about him since you've been back."
"I've been back all of ten minutes and I must say that he was not the first thing on my mind."
And he thought humans were stubborn creatures… "Carya…think of it, Illyath is a knight. He's out there right now preparing for war. Should you not at least be thinking about him?"
"I am sure he's fine." Of course she had been worrying about him; she just had not wanted to admit it.
"He was promoted you know."
That was fast. "He was?"
"They ah…they made him one of the generals."
That meant…no. "He will not be the one…"
"Yes, he will be one of the knights leading them to battle."
She looked away. She needed to talk to him, the armor could wait.
Reviews are most definitely welcome. I'm not sure how I like how this is progressing so please let me know what you think, input is always nice.