Old

Despite being 13,837 years of age, Tyrande Whisperwind isn't that old.

At least she wasn't that old. Up until a few hours ago, the concept of ageing was a foreign one to the kaldorei, something that they observed rather than experienced. Even now, with immortality stripped away along with the bark of the World Tree, she feels young. Young enough to feel a sense of loss. Young enough to feel tears well in her eyes every time she sees the body of a fallen ally, night elf or otherwise. She feels young enough to fear death like a child, knowing that it's suddenly become an inevitability rather than a possibility.

Do her brethren feel the same way she does? There's no way of telling and indeed, it's hardly the time to discuss it. So many of her kind have joined Elune's embrace in the final battle against the Burning Legion, the survivors should count themselves lucky to still be among the living, however briefly. In a sense, she's become a beacon of hope to them. After all, she and Furion went through the exact same thing ten thousand years ago. Even if death wasn't guaranteed then, all that they knew had been lost.

Tyrande glances at a pool of one of Mt. Hyjal's many spring rivers. Is she an old woman in a young body? Or is it the other way round? She has no way of telling.

How do the outlanders take it, the priestess wonders? There's nothing to suggest that any of those from beyond the sea possess immortality or have ever done so. That doesn't make their lives any less meaningful, but apparently the two major races of the disparate alliances, these orcs and humans were sworn enemies until around a month ago, killing or enslaving each other on sight. Do they value life any less in light of all the death that has surrounded them? Or has the carnage of their existence made them value it even more? Either way, Tyrande decides to give them the benefit of the doubt. She and all her kind owe them that much.

How much time does a kaldorei have? What will be their average lifespan? Will they become like the quel'dorei, stumbling blindly in the absence of a font of energy? The children of Elune may not have abused their birthright, but even so, Tyrande has seen the descendents of the Highbourne, has seen what could await her kind. Wasted and ruined...just like most of northern Kalimdor. There will be much toil and strife in the days ahead.

Maybe the priestess of the moon isn't old. But right now, she feels so.