Disclaimer: World of Warcraft and all expansions belongs to Blizzard Entertainment, and I own nothing more than the the retail disks of it. This story is a non-profit fanfiction rendition of their story with original characters, and I think the concluding thought is "should never be purchased without explicit permission from Blizzard that it may be sold." Though who would pay for something as light as fanfiction is beyond me...

Pre-story notes: So taking a very Cataclysm-induced break from writing, I was on my achievement-whore looking at the ever elusive Loremaster achievement. Low level tailoring/enchanting needed some ranking up too, so questing seemed reasonable, right? Anyways, I was in Westfall doing my thing, laughing at Blizzard's inclusion of internet memes, when the situation picked at me and a story idea was born. Now I'm suffering the tedious ailments of writing withdrawals, and I felt this short story a good reintroduction.

Unlike previous works, this is intended to be a short piece... Short by my standards, at least. Certainly no lemons, and the romance in this should be the love between student and teacher, not anything intimate.

Kill It

The dream is always the same. It doesn't always happen the same way, but it's always the same.

The garden. The temptation.

It starts with me at its center, under the largest apple tree I've ever seen. The apples look delicious, some of the biggest and juiciest I've ever laid eyes on. However, there is also something unspeakably wrong with the apples. Nothing physical, but a clenching feeling in my heart whenever I think to take one.

And then the woman comes. Not always the same woman, but always a woman. She'll whisper promises of seductive pleasures, knowledge, power. That changes too, but always something dark and wonderful.

I get tempted easy. It's something I've always known. I find myself agreeing to her words, accepting them. And she takes one of the apples, one of those fantastic apples. One of those so very wrong apples. She offers it to me, all of her promises sealed into that one unnatural fruit.

And as I reach to take it, to give into that temptation, the dream ends.

It's always the same.

xxx

"What the hell happened here?"

"Looks like the Furlbrow's were murdered..."

Aelas slowed down, turning an ear to listen in on the Transient and West Plains Drifter also on the road. Ahead of them was a broken down cart with a small crowd of people. The Crime Scene Alarm Bot running around especially caught his attention. Those weren't typically seen out here in Westfall.

"What's happened to us?" the Transient continued. "We're in worse shape now than when the Defias ran amok!"

"Yep." The drifter spat. "That King Varian is good for nothin'."

Aelas continued past the homeless travelers to approach the wagon. That was where Farmer Furlbrow and his wife Verna had been in the morning when he'd left to Elwynn forest, helping out with the sudden influx of refugees. Murdered... He shifted the nearly empty bag in his hands and rounded the wagon. His stomach dropped suddenly as he caught sight of the two familiar faces stretched out on the road.

A Stormwind Investigator was kneeling next to the bodies. "It's a bloodbath, lieutenant," the man said. "They've been murdered."

Behind him, Aelas heard the Transient quietly utter, "Let's get out of here before they try and pin this on us."

A second investigator spoke up, "Given the body temperature, I'd say they've been dead no more than six hours."

"Good call," the drifter responded, and there was a quick shuffling of feet as the homeless turned south of the road and headed into the wild.

While he heard them, Aelas wasn't paying attention to their words. The Furlbrow's... While not his favorite people, they were among those actually helping around this begotten land. They had taken all the refugees they could handle and still gave out what food they could. Who would do such a thing to them?

"Damn shame what they did to Old Blanchy..." the investigator continued, and Aelas was sickened to see that even the packhorse hadn't been spared, butchered corpse now under the wagon's front wheel.

The last figure was a well-dressed man, another rarity. He wore a spotless black suit and a tie, logically some official from Stormwind City. Perhaps he was a figure of some renown, but Aelas didn't find himself curious enough. Murder had become common in these parts, though for it's red hands to touch even the Furlbrow's... Westfall was becoming a dangerous place.

The man in the suit, probably the lieutenant, spoke: "No kidding, rookie..."

Shaking his head, Aelas checked the bag in his hand and moved on. He gave a short prayer to the gods for the couple as he walked away.

As he walked, though, Aelas couldn't help but overhear the lieutenant continuing, "Looks like they really put the cart..." He paused. "...before the horse."

Aelas's fists suddenly clenched in a spark of anger. Was that some kind of bad joke? What kind of investigator joked above the corpses of two good folk just murdered? Quick as his anger came, it bled out. City-folk, far enough removed from the hardships of Westfall to truly care. And if he was the lieutenant, then he probably saw this sort of thing on a daily occurrence.

Still...

Shaking his head of such thoughts, Aelas took the beaten path branching from the main road. Mama Celeste would need to hear about this though. They were living at the Furlowbrow's pumpkin patch after all. How would their death's change things? They certainly wouldn't leave, that was for sure.

Aelas had been born and raised in Elwynn Forest. His parents had never been anything fancy, but they got by. Recent incursions with the Cataclysm, as was the case with many out here, left him orphaned and homeless. His duties on his father's small farm made him well acquainted with the Furlbrow's, and because of it they welcomed him with open arms after the catastrophe. He was of the age to have a wife and be settling down with his own place, but now...

Kicking a stone with his boot, Aelas turned a grudging eye to the blue skies, looking for any of those wonderful heroes that are currently running around the world with their adventure, fame, and spoils. Each of them with pockets filled with mountains of gold from their exploits. Aelas didn't hide the fact that he was envious of them, out there with such lives while he was stuck here in the muck in dark times.

Not darker times than when the Dark Portal opened or the Scourge stirred, and sometimes he reminded himself that this life was simpler. Old gods, Lich Kings, the Undead, demons... thus far, he at least managed to avoid them. Regardless, it couldn't hurt for one of those heroes to drop by and help with some domestic issues for once, right?

He knew he was fairly petty about his situation, but nothing was petty when it involved human lives.

Budding adventurers came out here of course, but they brought empty pockets that would be filled only later. He always wished he could meet with one of those from the alien races that make up the Alliance, but the first time he ever worked up the courage he encountered a female Night Elf, a druid just starting her training, and the beauty had left him tongue-tied and blushing before he very nearly scampered away.

The buildings that were now his home came in sight, and he began preparing himself. The farm was a little off the beaten path, which meant briefly entering the wilds. And as anyone who lived out here knew, the wilds were dangerous, filled with beasts just as starved as himself and anyone else out here. He knew that if it came down to it he could fight off a coyote or a young fleshripper, but there were a few between the path and the farm. Best if he just ran.

Clutching the bag of goods he had been sent out to get, Aelas ran for all he was worth. He was the fastest resident in all of Westfall. He had been told his fastest sprint could match that of SI:7's rogues, but for only a very short duration. He always told himself that if he had been wealthy enough to start the training of one of the adventurers, he'd have petitioned to SI:7. He always wanted to be a shadowy rogue.

Aelas reflected on this as he dodged past the feral beasts. Almost immediately he had encountered a pair of coyotes, and he weaved between them and left them snarling in the dust. Rogues could move through the shadows, nearly invisible, and he'd heard stories of some who had pick-pocketed some legendary figures.

He was kind of like a rogue, in a way. He could moved stealthily at night fairly well, having practiced much with hunting back at his pa's old farm. Recent times as a dependent in Westfall had taught him skill with pick-pocketing, and he liked to pretend he was one of SI:7's covert agents as he snuck around at night to loot some of the riffraff.

Aelas reached the end of the pumpkin patch, but he noticed one of the coyotes was determined after him. Grunting, he pivoted on a foot and swung his sack at the beast. It crashed into the coyote's head with enough force to knock it off its feet, but not enough to kill it. Heart beating frantically, Aelas kicked the scrawny thing in the neck as hard as he could before it could stand again, and there was a crack.

Breathing a little harder than usual and thankful the beast had already been nearly dead, he grabbed the coyote by the tail and began dragging it the rest of the way towards the small home.

He lifted his chin towards one of his fellow residents, a shady figure by the name Two-Shoed Lou. "Could have helped me, you know."

"Please, Las, everyone knows you can handle yourself just fine," the man said with a crooked grin.

Aelas gave him a glare in passing. "Don't call me 'Las.'" Lou only tipped his hat in response.

It was true though. Between his speed and former hunting skills, he'd always manage to pass the wilds without serious incident. Other refuges couldn't say as much. It was why he was always chosen for the tasks to go out for pickups, like the bag of grain he now held. Also because he could be trusted to deal honestly, but that was a rare trait only in recent times.

"Ah, welcome back, sonny," Mama Celeste greeted as he entered, the elder woman beaming at him and his 'catch.' "Such a good boy." She took the grain from him, and he helped her lift the coyote to the table for carving.

As they worked to scrap some sort of meal together, Aelas relayed the news of the Furlbrow's. Mama Celeste reacted better than him, merely thanking him and continuing with her work in her usual chipper manner. She had seen a lot more and likely much worst in her days, Aelas figured.

Finished with his work for the day, Aelas glanced towards the small room's fire. The girl was still there. She was a pretty blond from Stormwind, now homeless and living with them. He knew her name, but they hadn't yet spoken. He wanted to, but shyness was a bothersome trait of his.

She looked up suddenly, and her brown eyes met his. Nervousness immediately struck his tongue. He fought past that and began to smile at her, opening his mouth to at least greet her, when she just as quickly lost interest and turned back towards the fire. Aelas deflated, learning back against the wall next to the door and running a hand through his black hair.

A glance showed Mama Celeste smiling to herself, obviously amused with him. Cursed woman finds it funny... He loved her anyways.

He turned to leave the building, perhaps to catch up with Jimb "Candles" McHannigan. Before he could step outside, however, there was a roar of wind and a large shadow covered the ground outside the door. Both Lou and Candles were staring at the sky with mouths agape. Quickly, Aelas stepped out and looked up.

A dragon was landing. Brilliant bronze scales glistened in the setting sun, the beast large enough for a person to ride if the magnificent drake would allow it. With a final few flaps of its wings, it landed, the ground quivering faintly from the weight, and its massive wingspan folded inward.

A real dragon, right before his eyes! Aelas couldn't believe it. Such beautiful colors, eyes bright green and intelligent, claws and fangs wicked, horns sprouting from its skull. So transfixed by the drake was Aelas that it took several moments before he noticed the saddle strapped to the drake's back.

That was when he first met her, the woman. She was fair skinned, features smooth and beautiful. Despite her obviously young age, her hair appeared grey at first, like Mama Celeste's, until he realized it was only silver. Her unique hair was pulled back in a ponytail, with her bangs brushed to the left. Her eyes were two amethysts above a small patch of freckles on her cheeks. She was wearing robes made of dark colors, enhanced by greens, blues, and purples, while over it she wore a tabard of dark purple and lines of bright green. Her shoulders were covered in some gem-studded casing with actual yellow-green fire burning above each. Behind her, Aelas could see a massive staff glowing faintly. It looked like a pillar was strapped to her back.

The woman was obviously one of the adventurers out there, and a powerful one at that. Aelas felt his mouth dry as she patted the drake on the shoulder and dismounted it smoothly. Another pat and a word had the beast nod and take to the skies again, leaving her behind. Once it left, however, more about the woman became obvious.

A warlock... A powerful warlock out here in Westfall. Why?

By her side stood a demon Aelas had only read about (he prided himself on learning how to read when he was young). It was the foot soldier of the Burning Legion, a felguard, with its black skin and red-gold armor, spikes adorning its back and head, gauntlet-covered fist clutching an immense axe decorated as a skull.

He saw it then on the warlock's face. The arrogant cast so often adorned by warlocks, that of one who looks out at the world as if everyone and everything were beneath them. As they were subduers and masters of powerful demons, Aelas supposed it could be expected. But there was something else to her too. Something haunting her purple eyes, ghosts of a past he wasn't quite sure he wanted to know about. Perhaps she had fought in the frozen wastes of Northrend. She could even be one of those that struck the Lich King down!

The woman's haughty gaze swept past all of them, and Aelas felt his heart quake when her eyes met his briefly. She settled on Lou, and the man gulped. When she spoke, it came with a bored drawl, "Horatio sent me here about the murder of the Furlbrows."

Her voice was clearly human, and it was feminine if as frozen as the rest of her expression.

"...Horatio sent you?" Two-Shoed Lou repeated. "Right then... um, how can I help you? He's not here is he? Heh, he knows I wasn't hidin' from him, right? Was just tryin' to lay low and all that, ya know?"

She ignored his ramble. "Tell me what you know."

The man quickly broke into another ramble, this time about his old house – which was in truth just a box – while the warlock just stared at him. Aelas watched them for a few moments longer, eyes drinking the powerful adventurer he always fantasized about with both fear and awe, then slowly crept back inside the home.

He told Mama Celeste about the arrival, the poor woman's bad ears missing the earlier rush, and she quickly shuffled out to make a request of her own, no fear of the warrior in her. Aelas wished he had that kind of confidence. Instead, he just watched as the warlock accepted all the requests and called down her drake again, mounting it in a leap and taking to the skies again.

Once the woman left, it was like a great tension had been removed. Aelas leaned against the doorway as he watched her go. Abruptly, he realized he wasn't quite alone. The homeless Stormwind citizen blond was there, smiling slightly.

"Always a sight, aren't they?" she said to him. "I saw them all the time back in Stormwind, and never did that first impression, what you're feeling now, ever leave me."

Swallowing, Aelas asked, "What happened?"

"A guild of them had just slain Onxyia. Perhaps you heard about that, back five years ago? The group of them came parading back into Stormwind, carrying with them that fearsome dragon's head. And the stories some of them can tell you. The Silithid I had never heard of before, and then there was a priestess who had helped keep the folk that slew Ragnaros alive during the battle..." her eyes glazed as her voice trailed, obviously reflecting back on the incident.

"Sounds like living in Stormwind was quite interesting," Aelas said, bringing her attention back to him.

The blond glanced at him, then leaned against the other side of the door frame and sighed. "It truly was. It is such a tragedy that I lost my home." She flicked her hand towards the cramped interior. "I went from a wealthy merchant's daughter to living in this. Celeste is such a nice woman, but for a girl of my age in this kind of crowd... To be honest, I've grown afraid."

Aelas sympathized. "I wish the relief from King Varian would get here sooner. However, between the new island the Cataclysm rose up, the rift in the Maelstrom, the siege up at Hyjul, and the opening of the lost lands of Uldum over in Kalimdore, on top of Deathwing and the cultists' rising activity... I don't think he has the resources to help out a secure land now purged of the Defias."

The girl gave a quiet whistle. "You really keep up with the news, don't you?"

Aelas gave a sheepish smile. "I fantasize about being an adventurer myself sometimes, and I like knowing what I could be doing. Just a dream, but it gets me through the days."

She smiled at him. "Well-"

There was the sound of heavy steps, and a dark shape obscured the doorway of the now twilight light. The two both looked to see what it was, and the girl gasped and stepped back. Aelas very nearly reached for his dagger, then remembered he had sold it for his current boots after the last wore through.

A wolfish beast on two legs stood there, a regular wolf at its side – regular, as if that wasn't frightful enough! The immense creature bared its teeth in a butchery of a smile and asked in rough, accented Common, "Could you please point me in the direction of Sentinel Hill?"

Aelas pointed south, and the beast-man nodded its thanks. Turning, it began a lope south, the wolf following at its feet.

The girl stepped back up next to Aelas and asked, "What was that? I've never seen one of those in Stormwind before."

"A Worgen," Aelas breathed, just as surprised as her. "But they aren't supposed to be friendly with the Alliance. They are up in Silverpine Forest... And that accent. Is he from Gilneas?"

As the Worgen hunter disappeared over the hill, the girl echoed his thoughts, "The world is changing..."

xxx

That dream... Again that night, always that same dream.

But the woman. This time it wasn't just some lady. It was the blond, the refugee from Stormwind. She whispered the promises, the gift of such power and pleasure. She whispered to me the entire world for the taking. How could I say no?

And then the apple, bright red and juicy. So perfect, and somehow wrong.

I reached for it, reached for her hand and the promise, and...

xxx

"STOP! STOP! STOP! I don't wanna hear it! I don't wanna know and I don't care! That kind of information is liable to get you killed 'round these parts. I got one more bit of information for you and then we're done!" Lou shouted outside.

The shouting woke Aelas with a start, though a sudden stirring in his arms made him blink down. A mass of blond hair filled his vision. Somehow during the night, in the cramped living space he and her must have somehow moved together until she slept in his arms. He paused for a brief moment to recall the dream, but the shouting outside invaded his thoughts again and he moved to stand up.

Aelas looked up to see Celeste beaming mischievously at him and the altered sleep position. Grumbling to himself, he staggered out the door to see what had Lou so worked up.

The warlock was back, arms folded as she leaned against her drake, impassive to his shouting. He was just finishing up when Aelas came outside and began listening again, "If you're interested, you'll find the thugs back behind the farmhouse. If you get caught or killed, I don't know you. Never seen ya! Good luck, kid."

The bits of copper in Aelas' pocket suddenly reminded him of their presence. Some newcomers had been causing trouble lately. Last night, before retiring to bed, he had continued his practice at stealthy movement and looted them while they slept. If the rumors were right, they had gotten a little too touchy with one of the female refugees yesterday before someone stepped in, and Aelas got his petty revenge for her.

The warlock tilted her head, glancing towards the farmhouse. Her eyes met his again in passing, and Aelas had the same nervous feeling inside. "I'll do it." she said, voice still bored.

The warlock sent her drake away and began a sauntering walk towards the farmhouse. Her eyes never returned to him as she passed, but he did catch a whiff of some pleasant, exotic fragrant from her. Not at all what he was expecting from someone with the reputation warlocks had. Her burly demon followed, looking as bored and impassive as her.

As she rounded the back of the farmhouse and left his sight, Aelas suddenly followed the warlock. Pulling upon all he knew about stealth, he crept to the edge of the building, but knowing he couldn't bend light like the rogues, he simply peaked an eye around to watch what happened.

The four thugs were standing in a circle, speaking, while the warlock stood not five feet away from him and very obviously listening into the thugs, though they hadn't noticed her yet. She wasn't even trying for stealth, leaning against the barn wall and staring at them.

"Did you... Did you meet her?" one thug asked.

"Yep. She's for real," one wearing an eye patch said. He appeared the leader of the foursome. "She wanted me to tell you lugs that she appreciates the job that we did for her on the Furlbrows. Gave me a pile o' gold to split with you all."

Another perked up. "See her face? Is it really..." he trailed off as he finally noticed the warlock standing there.

The leader whirled towards her. "Whoa, what do we have here? Looks like we have ourselves an eavesdropper, boys. Only one thing to do with a lousy, good-for-nothin eavesdropper." They all drew weapons, mainly broken glass bottles. "DIE!"

Hero or not, there was four of them and only one of her. Instinct took over, and Aelas jumped from his hiding spot to help the warlock. He wasn't needed.

The broken bottles didn't even puncture the cloth of the warlock's robes. They all managed a thrust against her without her moving, and Aelas was stunned to see the sharp glass glance off the material as if it were plate she was wearing. After the first attack against her, however, the felguard reacted in her stead.

With a basso grunt, the demon grasped its giant axe in two hands and swung it in a cleaving arc. The men realized their mistakes a moment too late, jaws dropping in horror. The axe went through leather armor and flesh alike. For all four men. One swing cut four men in half. Arms and lower bodies fell from chests, pieces of men hitting the ground in sudden gushes of blood.

Aelas' stared in mute horror at the blatant execute the warlock- nay, just her demon performed. The same demon looked up sharply at him, having just noticed his presence, but the warlock's hand up stopped it. "Stay your axe, Shaaroon."

The warlock then turned, for the first time settling the full intensity of her gaze on him. After that slaughter, her eyes were no different. Standing in the center of body parts and blood, she seemed no different than when she first agreed to help out around the farm. Sure, those men were murderers and Aelas felt they deserved no better, but to be so... dispassionate about killing them, as if those human beings were no more than animals. He trembled once under her gaze.

"Why are you here?" she asked, the same drawl in her voice.

His usual nervousness wasn't there, presently, instead replaced by shock and fear. It took a moment to gather himself, and another before he was confident he'd have a steady voice, "I-"

A woman screamed.

Aelas whirled in place, facing back towards the farm where he recognized the scream had come from. To the best of his speed, he sprinted back, concern blooming within. The warlock could wait.

Reaching the building, he put a hand on the fence to hop over it, his sprint abruptly ending in a crowd of people. Less than a moment later, there was the steady beat of wings before the warlock landed across from him, jumping off with a hurry she hadn't displayed before. Her bored expression was gone, replaced with something much, much harder.

The investigators and lieutenant from before were there with a frightened-looking group of homeless Stormwind citizens, and they all were surrounding... Lou. Two-Shoed Lou lay face down in the dirt, oddly enough with his boots over his head. Was it another murder?

"You were standing right here! What the hell did you see? Speak up!" one Stormwind Investigator was shouting at one refugee.

The man was shaking in his fear, either from the event or the investigator's rage. "I... I didn't see nothin'! He... he died of natural causes."

"Natural causes?" the investigator roared back. "Two bullets in the chest and his shoes on his head. What kind of natural death would that be?"

Lieutenant Horatio was much calmer about it, kneeled next to Lou's corpse. "Doesn't look good, rookie. This was an execution. Whoever did this was sending a message... A message that poor Lou really put his foot..." He whipped out a pair of sunglasses and put them on. "In his mouth."

More bad jokes? Aelas asked himself, shocked. What was wrong with people this day? Lau may not have been his friend or even that good of a person. But he was a person. A human of the Alliance! And he, like the thugs, had just been butchered, and no one seemed to care?

The warlock approached Horatio, and her voice came without the drawl as she reported the earlier thugs, their guilt, and their sentence. That voice... it would have sounded so nice without the subject, or if it had even an ounce of human emotion. Was that the result of all adventurers? Warlocks? Or just this warlock?

"We're dealing with an organization here, rookie," Lieutenant Horatio told her. "You don't just off the richest bum in Westfall in broad daylight and leave no witnesses. Someone with a lot of power is behind these murders. So what do we know so far? We need to follow the clues...

"Over at the Jansen Stead you found a water-soaked letter and some scraps of red cloth. Here at the Furlbrow's you overheard a conversation between some shadowy figure and an ogre mage. You also got a confession to the murder from a bunch of thugs – whom you then killed. Something isn't adding up, rookie. There's an old couple, southeast of here, at the Saldean's Farm. Head over there and speak with Farmer Saldean. Find out what he knows."

There was no nod or mutter of acknowledgment. The warlock simply turned and jumped onto her drake, her demon vanishing back to wherever demons come from. Her gloved hands picked up the reigns in clenched fists, and she turned a sharp look at Aelas. "Meet me at Saldean's Farm. I wish to speak to you."

Her bronze dragonflight drake roared and lurched up, slowly gaining altitude and cutting southeast.

Aelas was left lost and silent, the professionals from Stormwind going about their business with an unruffled air. His eyes met Mama Celeste's, seeing the genuine fear in her aged eyes, then slid to the blond refugee from Stormwind's. The girl had a hand over her heart as she looked down at Lou, and she looked over at Aelas and blinked once.

The warlocks words had been perfectly polite, but... it was not a request. Fists balling, Aelas turned towards the Saldean's farm and began sprinting after the warlock.

The Saldean farm had been there at least as long as the Furlbrow's had, and like the Furlbrow's, Saldean had taken in as many of the homeless as he could, though they took orphans first. During the reign of the Defias, Aelas had heard that robotic constructs called Harvest Watchers had plagued the farm for many years, a problem that extended well after the Defias was overthrown.

Aelas arrived at the farm to see the Harvest Watcher dilemma... no longer there. Scraps of metal and melted machine lay strewn in all directions over the farm, every last Watcher violently dismantled. The warlock was there, brushing off her gloves as she nodded to Farmer Saldean and entered the farm house, the fearsome demon soldier at her side.

Saldean welcomed Aelas into his home as he arrived, and he entered, out of breath, to see the warlock talking to Salma Saldean. The farmer's wife was smiling at the warlock, "Bless your heart, dear. These poor orphans haven't had a hot meal in days. It looks like we will have enough left over to help feed many more of the homeless of Westfall."

The woman gave a brief curtsy to the silver haired warlock. "Thank you, Lyston. Your kindness will not be forgotten."

Lyston...? Aelas asked himself, watching the warlock smile back slightly and dip her head. Lyston and her demon Shaaroon.

Salma wandered off into the kitchen, hands nearly blurring as she whipped out her most famous meal. In mere moments it was done, and she shouted, "Dinner's ready! Come and get it!"

The three orphans charged happily towards their new mother, shrieking and giggling. They were given their food and devoured it, beaming as some got stuck on their faces and then eating that too. Once they finished all three turned towards the warlock and smiled. "Thank you, mama and thank you, Lyston."

Another, "YAY FOR LYSTON!" And finally they ran off as kids do, leaving Salma laughing softly at their backs.

By then, Aelas had reached the warlock and regained his breath. He looked at her, powerful and enchanted armor bearing an eternal flame, and asked, "So your name is Lyston?"

She inclined her head and met his gaze for a moment before turning back towards the door. "What is yours?"

"A- Aelas," he answered, following her as she left the building.

Before they could say anything else, Farmer Saldean had something to say, redirecting Lyston to Salma for more information about Furlbrow's murderer. The warlock returned indoors without another word.

"Of course, dear. Our little girl works at Sentinel Hill and is very close with the homeless of Westfall. Perhaps she has overheard something Before you go, let me wrap up the Westfall Stew and tell you a little bit about our dear little girl."

Lyston agreed to her, and Salma spoke, "About four years ago, in the dead of night, a little girl walked right into our farmhouse and collapsed on the floor. Nobody had a clue as to her identity. The poor little thing had no recollection of who she was or where she came from – truly a lost soul. Soon after, we adopted the little girl and named her Hope – for that is what she represented.

"She is now a young lady, caring for the destitute and homeless of Westfall. Take my Westfall stew to her at Sentinel Hill, south of here."

The warlock accepted and placed the stew in one of her bags. Turning, she again left the building, Aelas trailing behind with her demon.

Leaving the farm, Lyston ended up not calling for her dragon and instead walked with him. After a few minutes of silence, she spoke, "If you won't say anything, I will. There is something you've been wanting to ask me. Ask it."

Aelas blinked at her back, wondering what she was referring to. He thought about her words. Something I wanted to ask her...? What would he want to ask a powerful adventurer? There wasn't anything he wanted, really, except to... to... become one himself. He blinked at her again. Once the thought came to him, it solidified. That was exactly what he wanted to ask her. He wanted her help in becoming... like her.

How had she known?

"Well?" she asked.

"I... I want to become an adventurer, like you. A hero. Something more than a refuge trapped at a farm in the middle of nowhere. I don't have the money for a mage's education, the spirit to be a ferocious warrior, or the nature skills to be a hunter, druid, or even a shaman. My heart is not holy, so I can be no paladin or priest. However... I'm asking if you would- No, I beg you, please, help me become something more!"

Aelas couldn't explain it, but the words came unbidden, from within. Like a long repressed desire was finally within his grasp, and sheer emotion overwhelmed him in a sudden wave. He wanted to be an adventurer, and she could help him become one. Once that realization was made, a strong surge of determination made him adamant to not let the chance slip through his grasp. He would do nearly anything to get her to accept.

Was life here really so undesirable? The doubt of his resolve came with that question, but he was surprised to feel the solid answer of Yes. He could and was making do with it, but he so desperately wanted out. Away from the slums of human refugees, a farm with its owners now slain in cold blood, where the tensions between Stormwind and its homeless citizens were rising to the point of whispered rebellion.

He would do what no adventurer had done before. He would become wealthy and powerful, then return to Westfall to solve these problems.

As these thoughts battled raged within, he realized he had yet to receive an answer from Lyston. Looking up, he saw that she had stopped and was watching him, dead purple eyes weighing him. He held that gaze, his own eyes pleading.

One of her fists came to her waist, and the other hand pointed to a nearby goretusk boar. "Kill it."

Aelas blinked at her, confused. He was expecting her to say 'no' with a slight chance of 'yes' or to at least question him. But this... "What?"

She remained motionless. "Kill. It."

"The boar?" he asked, looking at the beast. It wasn't near as scrawny as the coyote from the previous day, and its tusks looked wicked.

"This isn't goblin engineering. Kill it." Beside her, Shaaroon snorted derisively.

So... if I kill this, she'll teach me? He wondered. Unarmed, against a full goretusk? This would be brutal. Taking a breath, Aelas balled his fists like he remembered and ran at the beast.

The goretusk saw his approach and faced him, snarling. Fists together, Aelas swung a hammering blow onto the boar's skull. The beast shook the blow off and lurched into him, ramming its snout and tusks into his stomach. Aelas wheezed out a breath and staggered back. The boar lurched again, another sickening blow to his stomach.

World white with pain, Aelas desperately clawed for control of his body and forced his eyes back on the goretusk. It snorted and prepared to gore him again. Roaring, Aelas dove to the side just fast enough to dodge. He fell to a knee, a hand coming to his stomach to feel warm blood. Cursing, Aelas rolled to the side again as the boar came back, ending in another kneel.

Adrenaline became a pulsing beast inside, numbing the pain and tensing his entire body for action. He would strike the next attack. The boar stomped a hoof and charged faster than ever before. One thing Aelas had though was speed. He dodged it by inches, and lifting his foot, he stomped down on the beast's neck as it tried to pass.

As a result, the boar's snout crashed into the dirt and ground, leaving it squealing in pain and collapsing off its hooves. Aelas knew he needed to kill it while it was down, but his stomach wound felt like it was sapping his strength. He had been gored by the thing. Gritting his teeth, he gathered his strength together enough to continue.

The boar had regained its own footing by then, eyeing him warily as it limped, likely having gone down wrong. It's snout was bloodied, the lower jaw awkward. The blood-tinged tusks were still formidable though. It gave a weak snort and darted in again.

Using both hands, Aelas tried to bat the snout away from his body, but it wasn't enough to redirect the blow. The beast squealed loudly while he was knocked flat onto his back. Groaning, he knew he had to get up, or he would die. His head lay perfectly exposed to the beast's lethal tusks.

He clenched his eyes shut, gritted his teeth, everything in his power to gather the strength to move. As soon as he thought he had it, he tried lifting himself, his ruptured stomach muscles screaming in agony. There was a sudden spasm in his stomach, and suddenly everything he had gathered slipped away. He fell back to the ground, out cold.

xxx

Aelas woke up groaning, but he was surprised to feel an absence of pain from his stomach – almost as surprised as he was to be alive. He opened his eyes to see it was night out, and at the same time a wonderful aroma reached him.

He was stretched out next to a camp fire were a pot of stew sat simmering. On the other side of it was Lyston, absent of Shaaroon's presence. She noticed him but gave no reaction beyond a glance.

A hand over his surely wounded stomach, Aelas was surprised to feel a sturdy bandage wrapped around him masterfully. "Did I kill it?"

"Indeed," she said. There was a flicker from her, and suddenly a dagger was imbedded point first in the ground next to him. "Next time, however, do not be so foolish as to fight an opponent unarmed. Not even those reckless warriors are that stupid."

Aelas sat up, relieved at the lack of pain as he did, and picked up the dagger. Nothing amazing, or even enchanted, but it would be more effective than his fists. Looking at the stew, he blinked in surprise. "Isn't that Westfall stew? You can cook?"

"It isn't as good as Salma's, but I am a woman." There was a small smile on her lips, as if at some private joke.

Silence fell between them, and eventually Lyston made both of them a bowl of the soup. "The meat is from the boar you killed."

That made it that much sweeter.

When they finished, Aelas had hoped to ask her if he were to be trained, but so soon after his wounds, exhaustion caught up and he quickly fell asleep despite himself.

xxx

Damn gardens. Damn temptation. Damn apples. Damn seductive women.

Can't I just get one night of peace for once?

xxx

Aelas' hopes on enlightenment were dashed the next morning. The command of "kill it" had become grating as Lyston would simply find a new beast, point to it, and simply demand that he do so. With a dagger he held out much better, but he still ended up banged, bruised, and bleeding after each.

After what felt like dozens of "kill it"s, Lyston finally stopped him.

"I must continue the path I have set out on. In the meantime, you also will continue. I expect thirty right-side boar tusks upon my return. Do not attempt to fool me by adding left-sides; I will know."

And then she left. Aelas sighed, twirling the bloodied dagger in his right hand. Lyston didn't strike him as a warlock that would jerk him around like this. There must be a reason to all this menial fights, besides adding a large supply of meat. Could she really tell the difference between right tusks and left? No way, I don't believe that. They look exactly the same.

Tossing the dagger into the air, Aelas caught it and approached the nearest boar, determined to see things through.

xxx

Lyston returned looking distracted and disturbed. Not afraid though – one of her power had nothing to fear out here in Westfall. Her first words to him were, "What do you know of a Judgment day?"

Aelas stared at her, confused, and scratched his head. "I've never heard of any such thing before. Sounds like something a paladin might sprout."

A wry smile actually touched her lips, and she shook her head. "We are going to Sentinel Hill. But first, the tusks?"

Aelas tossed her a pouch that clinked. Lyston opened it and counted out thirty tusks. One of them, however, she picked up and studied a moment longer. Flicking it away, she turned a gaze at him through half-lidded eyes. "Twenty nine right-side tusks."

Reaching into his pocket, Aelas pulled out one last tusk and tossed it to her. "How the hell did you do that?"

Lyston inspected it for a second and dropped them all into the pouch. "Trick of the trade."

Shaaroon was back as she turned and began heading towards Sentinel Hill, and with no other choice, Aelas followed.

Sentinel Hill. The only standing city in this land of farms. It's construction had been interrupted constantly by the Defias. With them expelled, it was finally nearing completion, even having a massive wall encircling it. However, the almost-complete city was facing the problem of endless hordes of refugees, and without the supplies requested from King Varian, it couldn't support them. Last Aelas had heard, the city had posted guards to prevent transients from entering, and that had left many folk bitter.

As a transient himself, Aelas had generally stayed away from the city, but now that he was following Lyston – in hopes that she might teach him – it appeared he was to finally enter the city himself.

"Why are we going to Sentinel Hill?" he asked as they walked.

Lyston was silent for a few moments, her slight form a serpentine grace under her robes as she walked. Not for the first time, Aelas noticed that she had quite the attractive backside, and in the silence he allowed his eyes a guilty wander.

"The shadowy figure responsible for the Furlbrow's and Lou's murders mentioned a meeting in Moonbrook tonight... She also mentioned something called Judgment day and its approach. That wasn't the first time I heard its mention," she answered finally.

He ran the word through his mind again, but nothing came up. "Where did you hear it?"

"While you were unconscious yesterday, I finished the Saldean's requests. Hope Saldean... After I finished, she also mentioned a Judgment day. The shadowy figure is a human female."

"Hope?" Aelas asked. "There's no way Hope would do such a thing. She's the nicest girl I met since Salma Saldean! She can't be this organization's leader."

"That is also the impression I received," Lyston said quietly, then left it at that.

The walls of Sentinal Hill came into sight, and Aelas couldn't help but stare. They were massive, connected by a gate that would have to take multiple persons to close the heavy wooden doors. Outside those gates, as Aelas expected, was the mass of refugees and transients protesting their plight. Some bore rotten fruit to throw at the guards, and the poor women on duty stood through it silently. The captain, however, remained shouting at the mob.

Surprisingly enough, the transients seemed to recognize Lyston, giving greetings and praises as she passed, making a way for her. The guards did as well, nodding once to her. Lyston simply swept past them into the city, Aelas trying to keep his head down and not be thrown out.

The city was under attack.

Aelas was stunned to see hordes of gnolls assaulting the far side of the city, where the wall was still incomplete. Waves of guards repelled the invaders, but it was taking no little amount of man power best used somewhere else.

Lyston clucked her tongue and said, likely for his benefit, "They came back. Shaaroon, go have fun."

The demon was already running. "A welcome diversion..."

Aelas watched with morbid fascination as the demon swung its massive axe and managed to hit only gnoll, not the city guards. Blood spray and body parts followed every stroke.

Lyston had already spoken to the city's Marshal, a man by the name of Gryan Stoutmantle who was standing at the entrance to Sentinel Hill's tower. He was saying, "Who IS this shadowy figure? We have to get to Moonbrook." He then proceeded to give instructions about the camp already set up there from the Defias rebellion.

Finished with the Marshal, Lyston entered the tower, where Aelas saw Hope Saldean standing. He entered as well, intending to greet her. "Could you explain this Judgment day a bit more?" Lyston asked as he approached.

Disturbingly, Hope smiled mischievously at the warlock. There was nothing of the Hope he knew in that expression. "You should get to Moonbrook, Lyston."

How had she- Lyston was smiling. Turning, she brushed past Aelas and stepped outside, much to his confusion.

By the time they began to move out, Shaaroon had already slain the most of the gnoll invaders, and the guards were quickly teaming up against the rest. The demon began following them as they passed.

Of course, still several hours from nightfall and the meeting, they had some time to kill on the way. How he hated the word.

"Kill it," Lyston drawled, flicking a hand towards the next boar. The two of them had left a long line of slaughtered animals in their wake all the way back to Sentinel Hill. Aelas knew warlocks tended to be sadistic, but this was ridiculous.

However, he'd grown familiar to the task. Gripping the dagger in one hand, Aelas approached the boar and got in the first strike. Throwing his weight onto the beast to immobilize it, his right hand with the dagger hooked under its throat and left a fatal cut. The goretusk fought his hold, gurgled squealing and thrashing, but Aelas held firm until its death throes ended.

He cleaned the dagger as Lyston looted the beast for meat and tusks, then continued onward without a word. It was always like that. He was growing frustrated with the lack of explanation – and the lack of an answer to his training, for that matter – but there was some good from it. Lyston had given him the silver from when she had sold the earlier tusks. Also, the beasts of the wilds no longer proved as fearsome to him. Sure, he had always managed before, but he had grown confident in his ability to kill them if needed.

Cresting the next grassy hill, Moonbrook came into sight in the distance, and between them and the town, a gnoll camp. Aelas expected Lyston to send Shaaroon in for more "fun," but instead she gestured him forward.

Not looking at him, she asked, "Do you think you could take that one camp?"

Aelas studied it. There were about five brutish scouts wandering around in a perimeter, while at the camp itself three of the humanoid beasts sat around a fire. Eight gnolls in all. There was no way in hell he could take them all, but if he were to say no, would Lyston refuse him?

Struggling only for a moment, Aelas deflated and shook his head. "No, I couldn't."

"So you have some sense, at least," Lyston sighed out, sounding mildly relieved. She pointed at the closest scout. "Kill it, and only it."

Aelas looked at her, seeing those purple eyes staring into his without emotion. That sense of something terrible behind those eyes remained, but like his reoccurring dream's apples, he couldn't quite state what was exactly wrong with them.

Shaking his head, Aelas drew his dagger and faced his new foe, sizing it up. These gnolls weren't particularly stronger than goretusks, though his target was carrying a giant mace. They were notorious for fighting in groups and attacking anything in range, including unarmed refugees. He couldn't approach this like he did goretusks.

However, if he could get to just one alone... The memory of the rhythmic motions from killing boars had his hand twitch faintly in remembrance. He could do this.

While he had some skill in throwing knives, Aelas knew he had none on him. He chose a rock instead and threw it at the gnoll. It whirled towards him, angered, and began running at him. It didn't even warn the other scouts, and they appeared to not see its plight. Perfect.

Speed and reactions were his. Mind calm, dagger ready, Aelas crept towards the gnoll until they were in range of each other. It swung its mace back in preparation for a sweeping blow, but Aelas dropped to the grass right before it came, hearing the wind of the weapon's passing over him, then kicked the gnoll's feet out from under it.

Aelas leapt back up and scrambled on top of the gnoll, dagger clenched in his right hand. His fist stunned the brutish beast with a blow to the face, and then his left hand grasped its wrist to prevent it from swinging that mace around again. His eyes found the hyena-man's throat, and the dagger did the rest, leaving a wicked slice in the flesh.

It wasn't a perfect cut, but blood swelled from the wound in lethal amounts. The gnoll struggled against him, its imminent death giving it a renewed strength, and it threw him off. Aelas hit the ground and quickly found his feet, seeing the enraged gnoll staggering towards him. He dodged the first few strikes, watching the line of blood pouring from its throat, until the beast staggered and collapsed, unable to maintain its strength without lifeblood.

Aelas panted, adrenaline still coursing through him, and he noticed Lyston had approached. She knelt by the corpse, hands rummaging its pockets. She found a spare few coppers and tossed them to him. She then worked at relieving the beast of the tattered leather stitched together in a sort of armor over its chest.

The warlock handed him that blood-stained armor. "Anything is better than those farmer rags."

Images came to mind, then, of the other various adventurers that had wandered into Westfall. The newer ones didn't look near as grand as Lyston did now. Instead, they had been wearing rags, pieces of slain enemies, trophies. It was a dirty business, in the beginning. His brown shirt was nothing fancy, but if he were to replace it with this (that would look ridiculous to slip it over his shirt), he would take the image of an adventurer.

A smile reached his lips as he took it, and he set to the exchange. So it begins... He still didn't see what Lyston intended to do with him.

Upon finishing, Lyston pointed to the next closest scout. "Kill it."

Thus he progressed around the camp, using the sparse trees to keep his actions from the other gnolls' eyes, sneaking very rogue-like and killing them one by one. Eventually, all that was left were those inside the camp.

"A gift," Lyston said abruptly. Aelas turned from his inspection from the remaining three gnolls to see a dagger identical to his in her hand. He accepted it gratefully, and she pointed towards the encampment. "Now kill them."

A dagger in either hand, Aelas reconsidered his chances against them. After taking a few down individually, he got a feel of how these gnolls fought. A group of three would be a challenge, but...

In the end, Aelas had slain all three bandits, but he suffered some nicks and a gaping wound in the shoulder for it. Lyston simply set to work bandaging him up with some linen cloth she had scavenged from their corpses.

Although Lyston was an attractive woman, Aelas had never suffered his usual nervousness in her presence. Maybe she was so far out of his league those kinds of thoughts never struck him. However, when she set about bandaging him, up close and hands actually touching him, his usual and more came rushing up in a blush, and he looked away from her. His heart beat frantically, making the throbbing wound that much worse.

Of course, that only brought up thoughts of the blond back at the Furlbrow's pumpkin patch. He wondered what she was doing right now, or if she had even thought of him once since he left.

Once the wound was properly bandaged, they continued the rest of the way to Moonbrook.

They reached the command site just north of it, where Lyston immediately began speaking to Captain Alpert. The captain commented on the increase in homeless activity in the formerly abandoned town. He asked her to bring back any propaganda that she might find inside the town.

"Isn't this where the Defias used to be stationed five years ago?" Aelas asked as they entered the town.

"You mean you haven't figured it out yet?" Lyston asked, her voice back to the bored drawl. She waved a hand, and Shaaroon vanished suddenly, letting out an, "Summon me again at your peril."

Lyston stared at where he had last stood with a look that appeared almost annoyed. "Sometimes, I really wish I had just bound him to me."

"Wait, you mean that demon isn't subdued?" Aelas asked, eyes widening.

Lyston ignored him. "Now, let's make this a true reunion." Arcane energies began swirling over her hands, manifesting in a light purple that Aelas had once read meant warlock energies. The energies swirled around her in a cocoon of mana, also reaching the ground where it spelled out runes and patterns so complex Aelas knew he couldn't copy them.

A few seconds later, it ended. A new demon pranced about, a tiny grey-skinned imp. He was almost kind of cute, in his own demonic way. "Gobrin," Lyston addressed, "This place look familiar?"

The sprite hopped around and studied the town. "Yeah, yeah... Isn't this where we fought in those mines?"

"The Deadmines, yes," she answered, kneeling to pick a paper from the city's ground. Aelas tried to ignore the impression her bending made in her robes.

Quickly averting his eyes, he asked, "What is it I haven't figured out?"

The paper was a copy of the Moonbrook Times, and reading through it had the warlock smiling in amusement. "Clever, girl." She handed it over to Aelas.

Aelas took the paper and glanced at the headlines, then double-taked.

Group of Homeless Samaritans Brutally Murdered Behind Furlbrow Farm

Quickly glancing through the article, he was stunned by what he read: "Jimb "Candles" McHannigan, an eyewitness on the scene, had this to say, "Yep, I saw the whole thing go down with my own two eyes. Was a female warlock. She looked like she may have been on something. She slaughtered the poor bums in broad daylight.."" Scanning further, he read, "...and proclaiming her love for Stormwind and King Varian Wrynn. I think she may have killed Lou immediately afterward..." Aelas refused to read the rest.

"They are slandering you," he growled. "I know you didn't do any of those things."

Lyston only threw a journal at him, and it was about the rise of the Brotherhood after four long years. Then propaganda written by one who calls him/herself "V." His mind began piecing the facts together, and then Lyston showed him the last clue.

"Kill him," Lyston commanded, pointed at a shady figure prowling the back of the abandoned building they were inspecting

Aelas turned wide eyes on her. "What? No!"

The man certainly had all the appearance of the thugs that had murdered the Furlbrows, only he wore all black. Still, looks were no justification for killing him. Apparently, however, it was enough for said thug.

Their voices had caught his attention, and upon turning towards them, the man pulled a dagger and lunged for them, a mad craze in his eye. "Little early to the party, aren't ya?"

Aelas found himself off-guard, and neither of his daggers were in reach in time. He was still flinching when a green ball of demonic flame erupted from behind him and shot past him into the thug. The man gasped, crumpling to the ground – dead without a wound.

Lyston walked past him in her lazy grace and knelt beside the corpse. "You need to be able to tell by look if someone is going to attack you for getting too close to their business. How do you react when you see an orc? Some are hostile, some will allow you to pass without a word, and some will speak with you peacefully."

Heart still beating furiously, Aelas asked, "So you- you could tell he was going to attack?"

"Indeed," she answered. "Now, come here."

Aelas checked his daggers to be sure they were clear to be quickly drawn if needed, then approached her. Kneeling down, he could see the lack of any ailment that might mean the man was dead. Lyston pointed a gloved finger at his chest, where the cloth vest opened. "Check."

Aelas reached his hand up to the dead man's chest, only a little queasy at looting something that was once a living person, and felt inside the vest. Some silken cloth met his hand, different than the rough linen of the vest, and he pulled the fine material out. It was a length of red cloth.

Lyston settled back on her heels, watching him. "Put it on. I still have one for myself."

Studying it, Aelas found it to be a bandana. A red bandana... why did that ring a bell? He began to pull it up to his face when suddenly an image struck him, an image of himself wearing a red bandana and a black vest, carrying a dagger. The Brotherhood. It all made sense now.

"The Defias..." he breathed. "They are attempting to come back." He stopped and looked around at the all the lost, bitter transients. All of them angry at King Varian and Stormwind. "And she wants to recruit from the refugees!"

"Congratulations, you do have a brain," Lyston muttered, standing and heading back towards the camp. Aelas hurried after her.

Presenting the evidence to Captain Alpert, he said, "V? The only V I know is VanCleef, but he died many years ago." He paused to look into Moonbrook. "It looks like the meeting with shadowy figure spoke of is starting soon. The homeless are starting to mobilize. I need you to attend the rally and gather information, Lyston."

Another wordless acceptance had her turn and saunter back towards the town, Gobrin at her heels. Aelas followed, mind still grasping what he just learned.

In the center of town, hundreds of homeless, transient, and drifters had gathered, all facing a wagon covered in hay. There was no sign yet of the shadowy figure.

With a indifferent attitude he was beginning to expect, Lyston gave a shrug and moved onto the wagon, jumping from tongue to bed and sitting atop of the hay, right at the center of attention of the massive crowd. Aelas saw the gazes of the crowd and held back from following, instead just standing near the wagon and joining the crowd.

Abruptly, the shadowy figure appeared atop the wagon, using the now night sky to hide her identity. Lyston, however, had to have been close enough to see who she was. The figure ignored the sitting warlock, instead starting the rally:

"Gather, brothers and sisters! Come all, and listen! Brothers. Sisters. We are ABANDONED - the orphaned children of Stormwind. Our "king" sits atop his throne made of gold and shrugs at our plight! Meanwhile, our children die of starvation on these very streets! HIS war, not ours, cost us our livelihood. WE paid for the Alliance's victories with our blood and the blood of our loved ones! The time has come, brothers and sisters, to stop this injustice! The government of Stormwind, of the ALLIANCE, must be made accountable for what it has done to us! Today, we are reborn! Today, we take a stand as men and women, not nameless, faceless numbers!"

The woman ended strongly, to the roaring of those gathered, and she lifted a banner up high in the conclusion of her speech.

Atop the cart, Lyston wasn't cheering or clapping, but one of her small smiles graced her lips. Straining his ears through the noise, Aelas could hear her say, "Well done, girl."

What side is Lyston on, anyways? Aelas asked himself. That tabard she wore – who did she represent?

The shadowy figure left as suddenly as she came, and Lyston rose to her feet and jumped off the cart. She began making her way back towards the command camp.

Upon their arrival, Captain Alpert said, "I could hear the cheers from here. It seems as if we've got a huge problem on our hands, Lyston. We have to discover the identity of this shadowy menace before we enlist the aid of Stormwind. Perhaps there is another way..." The captain outlined his plan, sending them off to the resident shaman Thoralius the Wise.

The shaman spoke of the spirit world. "This incense will put your body and mind in a deep meditative state. Once the trance begins you will be pulled into the spirit world. Do not fight the trance once it has begun. Allow the spirits to show you what they know. You must leave now. Go to the Deadmines, a place which I am told holds great significance in the history of Westfall. Once inside, use the incense."

Lyston took the incense burner and left, Aelas following as always.

xxx

Lyston deftly led them to the Deadmines, navigating with a sense of familiarity to the tunnels, her pet Gobrin muttering along the way. Once inside, however, she handed Aelas the incense.

He stared at her. "Shouldn't you be the one?"

Lyston smiled again, but this time the expression was almost... sad? "I know what the vision holds. Go, I will wait for you."

Sitting himself down, Aelas set the incense before him and... inhaled...

Immediately, Aelas's sight was torn from his body, bound to a spirit deep within the Deadmines. A voice spoke to him, telling him that this sight was of five years ago, in the heart of this place.

He was revealed a massive gunship ported in the cave. The spirit took him to the top, where five Alliance heroes stood. It was a human warrior, a night elf priestess, a dwarf rogue, a gnome mage, and finally... Lyston. Younger, weaker, with less powerful armor, and the pet out was Gobrin.

"There's nowhere left to hide, VanCleef! The Defias are THROUGH!" the warrior shouted. "We're here to finish this! Face us, coward!"

From the captain's cabin, a man came running out, whom Aelas assumed was Edwin VanCleef. "None may challenge the Brotherhood!"

As the battle began, amazingly the one man holding his own against the might of five Alliance soldiers, two Defias Blackguards jumped out of the shadows and assaulted the group, going directly for the priestess currently keeping the warrior alive as he engaged VanCleef.

It was Lyston who noticed the priestess's plight, dark spells and curses leaving her hands with shouted words as she rushed the two Blackguards, then barreled her entire body into them, sending all three to the deck. Lyston didn't stay down for long, somehow untangling herself with an unusual grace and back-peddling while still slinging around spells.

The two Defias were slower to rise and chase after her, but they eventually managed. Lyston darted around the warrior and VanCleef, and when the Blackguards tried to follow, the warrior's thunderclap turned their attention to him. Lyston smiled, continuing the battle.

Even with the help, the Defias were clearly on the losing side, and eventually all three lay dead on the deck. The Alliance party-men celebrated their victory before simply leaving to report back to Sentinel Hill, the Defias now without a leader. However, the spirit sight remained on the ship.

Once the party was gone, there was a sound. A little girl followed VanCleef out of the captain's cabin. She fell to the deck next to VanCleef's corpse, crying. "Daddy..."

The spirit holding his sight informed Aelas of her identity, Vanessa VanCleef, Edwin's daughter.

Abruptly, Aelas' sight returned to his body, out of the deep trance of the spirit world.

Lyston was there, sitting across from him, watching for his reaction to the vision. It took Aelas a few moments to get the right words, but he finally managed to say, "The shadowy figure, it isn't Hope. It's... Vanessa VanCleef, daughter of the man you killed, the one you left orphaned on that ship."

"Indeed," was all she said.

Silence fell between them. One thought kept bothering Aelas, though. The reason Lyston came back to Westfall, years after she helped end the threat of the Defias. "Why did you come back? Did you hear of their stirring? Did King Varian send you? Did you come here to help with the refugees?"

"That... is a question I do not need to answer. Come, let us return back to the captain." The immensely powerful warlock, hero from the other lands, rose silently with her catlike grace and moved steadily back through the mines. Aelas watched her for a moment, then got up to follow. There was so much about her he didn't know, and probably never would.

xxx

After reporting back to the captain, they returned to tower in Sentinel Hill to give news to the Marshal. He didn't react well.

"WHAT? VanCleef had a daughter?" he shouted at them. "I had no idea that VanCleef had a daughter. If there was one thing that man was exceptionally skilled at, it was keeping secrets. How tragic. Poor thing witnessed a horrible act. Had I only known..."

He paused, noticing something was wrong. "What was that? Did you hear something? It seems as if the gnolls are pulling back.. where are my guards? ON GUARD, LYSTON!"

Without warning, both soldiers and gnolls retreated away from Sentinel Hill, leaving Aelas with only Lyston, the Marshall, and his two guards. The town was barren, like a ghost town.

"I don't like this, Lyston. Stay alert!" the Marshal rumbled, eyes glancing around the empty city.

Aelas kept close to Lyston, taking strength from her solid and unflinching presence. Gobrin continued hopping around, unconcerned.

"You bastards will burn for what you did," a woman's voice said from behind them. Hope Saldean.

Marshal Gryan Stoutmantle turned, confusion growing on his face as Hope slowly approached him. "Hope! What..."

The woman barked a laugh. "Hope? Is that what I was supposed to feel when I saw my father decapitated by your henchmen? Hope is a cruel joke, played upon us by a harsh and uncaring world. There is no Hope, there is only Vanessa. Vanessa VanCleef."

As the men gasped their surprised, Aelas finding himself among them, Vanessa suddenly struck them all with some powder, disorienting everyone but Aelas and Lyston.

"RISE UP BROTHERHOOD! THE DAWNING DAY IS UPON US!" Vanessa shouted. A second burst of powder around herself had her simple village woman's clothing turn into something much more fitting for the Defias. A red garb with gold and orange patterns now adorned her, gloves and bracers covering her arms, and skulls adorning her shoulders. Her garb ended in a loincloth, leaving her legs and rear bared quite promiscuously all the way to her knee high boots.

With her cry, hundreds of Defias soldiers had appeared, flocking to the empty Sentinel Hill. She gestured to the Marshal. "Tie them up."

No longer Hope, Vanessa approached the city's stockades, where a worgen named Ripsnarl lay captured in stocks. A smoke explosion occurred around him, and suddenly he was free. Vanessa pulled out something from a pack. "Admiral, your hat."

Ripsnarl's form melted from that of a wolf-man to a full man, and he knelt as he accepted the hat. "Thank you, my dear."

Finally, Vanessa turned towards Lyston, eyes smoldering with familiarity. "And you, Lyston, I will spare your life. You have done much to help our cause, albeit unwittingly, but the next time we meet it will be as enemies."

Lyston dipped her head in acknowledgment. Why wasn't she demolishing the Defias right now, Aelas wondered.

"Just tell me one thing, Vanessa," Lieutenant Horatio mumbled from where he was being tied up, next to the Marshal. "Why'd you have the Furlbrows killed?"

Vanessa's gloved hand clenched in a fist, her only reaction. "I had no choice, lieutenant. They recognized me. The only people in the world who even knew I existed, recognized my face from when I was an infant... I took no pleasure in their deaths."

Shaking her head, Vanessa faced her army and shouted, "Leave nothing but ashes in your wake, brothers! Burn Sentinel Hill to the ground!"

Aelas stood in mute horror as the Defias legion ran rampant, throwing bombs and torches at all the recently completed buildings of the city. In mere moments, the city years in the constructing went up in flames, raging infernos and billowing smoking rising from all the buildings that could burn. The explosions from the bombs damaged the ones that couldn't.

Vanessa stood with her lieutenants in front of Sentinel Hill's tower, where they all had been at previously. She watched the city's razing with an impassive eye, likely a dream five years in the waiting finally coming true. Revenge finally exacted after so long.

"VanCleef," a voice drawled.

Aelas and Vanessa both turned to Lyston, the warlock now bouncing a red Defias bandana in her hand. Vanessa saw that and smirked. "It would look good on you. If you weren't who you were, I'd offer you a place with us."

Lyston's gaze turned to Aelas. "Aelas, you still have yours? Good." She turned back to Vanessa. "This boy wants to be an adventurer. His ambition to get it goes far, far enough for you to use. Would you be willing to mentor him?"

A feeling of cold shot through Aelas. Lyston was trying to send him off into the Defias? Was that her goal all along? Why?

"You make requests of me?" Venessa asked, surprise in her voice. She laughed mockingly. "I should kill you where you stand for your hand in my father's death."

Lyston's returning smile displayed no fear. "You may kill me, but it is me who would have the last laugh in the end."

W-Wait, Lyston isn't strong enough to kill these guys? Is that what's going on? Aelas wondered. The thought seemed impossible, that anyone could be stronger than Lyston.

Vanessa smirked. "Oh yes. Like me, you have gotten much stronger in the last five years." She eyed Aelas with her piercing blue eyes, then shook her head. "I don't have time for babysitting. I'll give him food, shelter, same as anyone else, but no special attention."

"Pity," Lyston sighed. She began walking down the ramp leading away from the tower. As she approached Vanessa, she inclined her head. "I'll be seeing you later, Little VanCleef."

"I'll be waiting," Vanessa returned, her smile belied by the hate in her eyes.

Lyston passed her, continuing her walk away with the jubilant Gobrin at her heels. After a few yards, she stopped and turned. She brushed some silver hair from her eyes as glanced at Aelas. "Are you coming or not?"

Surrounded by the burning remains of the only prospering place in Westfall, the only standing point that made it more than simple anarchy, Aelas knew he didn't really have anything left. It was remain here with the rising Defias and increasing crime, or go with her, where he may end up as something more: an adventurer.

Figures vastly more vile and powerful than him surrounded him, those so powerful that he was no more than a worm in their eyes, and he slowly began to walk after Lyston. His usual nervousness had been drowned out in the raw terror and shock of the events that played out here, but as he approached Vanessa, he simply couldn't hold his tongue. A smoldering rage at the actions here – her actions – burned as he vowed, "I'll be coming back for Westfall, Vanessa. You better not be here when I do."

Her mocking laughter reached his back, but he didn't allow it to touch him. He couldn't afford to provoke her, and he knew it.

He reached Lyston, and the two of them began walking together, for once side by side. They left Sentinel Hill burning behind them. He left Mama Celeste, the Furlbrow farm, the blond from Stormwind. He left Westfall, the only place he had ever known besides Elwynn. Regardless of if he became a true adventurer or not, he had cast his lots with Lyston, his very future in her hands.

She herself defined what that meant: "When I tell you to kill something, you kill it. When I tell you to do something, you do it. If I must attend other tasks, you will follow my instructions until my return no matter how long that takes. I am to be your mentor, nothing more, and I will not devote all of my time to you. Additionally, we will not be discussing my past nor yours. If you prove inept in anything, including any of these instructions, I will leave you behind to whatever fate awaits you alone."

He agreed to her demands, and the contract between them was sealed. She was a warlock; he knew how seriously they took contracts.

And thus afoot with Lyston and whatever demon fit her fancy, Aelas' journey began.

AN: And so I finally got around to posting this. Forgive any errors as I haven't bothered proof reading this, and forgive the choppiness as it was a fic to get me back into writing after a few month break (written just before Savage Land). This was going to be a two chapter fic (the second is half done), but I doubt I'll actually finish it, so it'll remain a stand alone one-shot.