Now about the short piece below. I had an idea with some of my inner circle that I return to when I consider writing. This is the concept of Selaerosona not being Sylvanas' child, but Alleria and Turaylon's. Now, I will be continuing the Sela story, but I plan on doing MAJOR edits because I began the story in middle school at... 13? 14? I am now 21 and getting my BA from SNHU in Creative Writing and Script Writing. So, needless to say I cringe heavily at some of my pieces. So please, tell me what you think of this spin off story, because I have so many fleshed out AU's and outcomes...I hope you all are ready for Ben & Jerry's. because drafts of Sela's story has already made my editors be brought to tears and ask why I had to pull their heartstrings. So please, send me feedback in the comments or in PM! YOUR OPINIONS TRULY MATTER TO ME! So much love and many blessings! Now, enjoy my AU!
Just as the High Prophet was approaching the three kin of the elven legacy of the Windrunners, the youngest daughter was firmly gripping the arrow from the demon's tiny eye socket. The draenei could not suppress the shudder at the sound of the eye ripping out along with the barbed arrow. He swallowed his disgust, as he called out to her, receiving the gaze of all three pairs of unreal blue eyes.
"Huntsmaster," he called the hunter by her authority, knowing honoraries were always pleased to have their ego stroke a tad. "Our forces sustained heavy losses defending the Vindicaar. We require allies".
Selaerosona rose from where she had previously squatted next to the corpse of the fallen demon, flicking the eyeball off behind her as she stowed the arrow back into her quiver. A flash of fel light created a glimmer upon the bow she hoisted at her side; a sight the High Prophet could not miss. Thas'dorah, the bow that was the legacy of the family that had been torn apart by every war that beseeched Azeroth and worlds beyond her. Yet, here still stood a daughter of the Windrunners, carrying the legacy of the rangers within her hands and matching them arrow for arrow. Velen, a mentor figure to many, could not help the glimmer of pride he felt for the woman that grew from the lonely child he once consoled with the Light's teachings, a few short decades ago.
Sela gestured with a tilt of her head to the north, "The slaves that Arator and I freed fled through a chasm to the north,; perhaps their numbers could offer our front some aide?"
Velen nodded, "I still sense their presence nearby. I suspect that they have carved out a resistance against their masters".
The young hunter nodded, "Allow us to scout ahead, then, High Prophet," her gaze flicking to Arator, who nodded.
Velen chuckled, even when the elf had been a timid youth, she had always been a leader at heart. "Actually, I believe it would be best if I went. I do not wish to put them at further unease. But I would appreciate your company, Selaerosona".
A small smile graced her lips, "If that is what you wish, Velen, I would be honored".
The paladin drifted his gaze away from Velen to his twin sister, searching her gaze. Selaerosona flickered her own eyes to his, and for the moment, there was a wordless exchange that none but the two could understand.
"Be safe," he muttered, the concern obvious in his voice as he broke the silence.
"I will be," as she paused, Arator appeared to relax for a heartbeat until she smirked. "Until things get interesting".
"Selaerosona, you'll age me faster than Khadgar's aging curse".
"Good. Maybe it will help you in some aspects of your life; personal relations for example".
As Arator gave a frustrated huff, walking off to mutter that the fel-goat elf might be in need of his services, Vereesa gave a small chuckle.
"How refreshing youth is," she looked to Velen. "Be safe out there. Arator and I will regroup with Illidan". And with that, the white haired Ranger-General sauntered off to another fel-corpse, retrieving her arrows from various bodies.
Velen and Selaerosona began to exit the battlefield they had won their first forward assault upon Argus. Though the two had seen many battles throughout their life, thus they both understood that the aftermath of any battle never settled one's heart. Thus, there was an unspoken agreement to remain silence, as any small talk would seem selfish as the dead were being removed from Argus' cold, fel desolace. The young elf grimaced, as the smell of fel-burnt flesh and rotting demon corpses filled the dry air.
The journey remained in it's blanket of silence, as they began to trek down the mountain path that Sela had last seen the slaves escaping. Taking point, Sela stayed three paces ahead of Velen, her ears pricked and an arrow ready in her bow. She side-stepped through the shadows of the canyon floor, her blue eyes catching the focal point of every disturbance to the quiet.
The path they followed came to a fork in the road. Kneeling at the ground for a second before rising, Selaerosona veered off, following the hoof marks in the ground. As they rounded the corner, a large cave loomed before them.
Stepping forward, Velen rose his hand, summoning a light to his palm to guide them in the darkness as well as to show they were Light dwellers, and meant those beyond in the shadows no harm.
"This must be it," he paused and turned to Sela. "I can feel their presence just ahead. It is as faint as the lightest breeze that once rolled across these hills, but it is not of the Legion, of that I am certain. We must see if these Broken, are potential allies. It is a great risk, but our numbers are too few to ignore the chance".
Sela nodded grimly, as she began to enter the darkness of the cave ahead, only to be stopped by the gentle hand of Velen upon her shoulder.
"Put away your arrow". Before the ranger could allow the protest to leave her open lips, Velen quickly continued. "We must show peace".
Not satisfied but willing to comply, the Huntsmaster begrudgingly stashed her bow and arrow away in a fluid motion.
"But, remain on your guard nonetheless, Selaerosona," Velen's silver eyes flickered around them, "The Legion is skilled at deception".
With that grim thought lingering on the air between them, the pair descended into the shadows, unarmed, unaware, and uncertain of their safety.
As the cave entrance opened up into a dimly lit but large cavern, Velen could not shake the looming dread of the possibility of an ambush. Or how fatal one could be in an enclosed area such as this.
"We may well be walking into a trap…" he whispered in the dim light.
However, Selaerosona's focus was not on him, as she hissed nearly inaudible, "Stay close," her hand itched for her bow, as her gaze darted about, looking for the slightest movement, "we are being watched".
Though a feeling of dread should have overcome the Prophet, he could not shake the feeling of overwhelming….familiarity?
"This hovel feels…. familiar," the words rolling off his tongue thoughtlessly, as though he did not mean to let his thoughts be known aloud.
"Velen!" Selaerosona sharply hissed, Thas'dorah in her hand once more and the other ready to grab an arrow from her quiver, "We're surrounded!"
Velen's brow knitted together, as he tapped his staff onto the ground, the light from his palm transferring to his staff to cast a greater visibility. "Show yourselves," he bellowed into the darkness.
From the rocks, slinking out like panthers of the night, came Krokul remnants, some of which Sela could recognize as the slaves she released. Nonetheless, Sela lowered herself into a crouch beside the Prophet, ready to die fighting. Her gaze snapping around util it fell upon that came forward. He was by far, the largest of the clan, and his eyes glinted with years of fighting for survival.
"Velen," the chieftain growled, "At long last, you return to the home you abandoned".
Sela dared not to take her eyes off of the Krokul, but in her peripheral vision she noted that Velen visibly wince from the verbal barb.
"That voice….." he spoke softly, the sadness evident in his voice as the familiar sound finally resonated with a name in his memories, "Hatuun? How did you survive this...hell," he shuddered once more, "for so long?"
Hatuun lowered his chin, the growl in his voice growing in distaste, "We changed, just as Argus did. We endured." He lifted his chin far above Velen, walking closer to look down at the prophet. "What choice did we have?" The gravity of his words nearly made Velen back step in submission, the dead-weight of guilt almost breaking his stoic stance, but he stood his ground now.
"I have no wish to fight you, Hatuun. But," the vigor in his eyes sparkled like a fire, "I cannot allow your bitterness to impede our war against the Legion!"
Hatuun's scowl only grew, as he seemed to ignore Velen's words of warning. "You turned your back on your people, Prophet. Your world. Such betrayal should be answered with death. Once a coward," Hatuun raised a sickle in his hand, ready to slash, "Always a coward".
Just as Selaerosona prepared to slam her bow in a block to intercept Hatuun's blow, a loud voice boomed from the northern cave, Sela's five o'clock. Velen's expression looked absolutely in awe as he turned to see the focal point of the sound. Sela remained trained on Hatuun, but the voice pulled her from a distant dream calling to her.
"Stay your weapons! The Prophet and his ally are not our foes," the powerful yet comforting voice continued, the words held a sincerity that could quell the uneasiness of both sides "We must stand together, all of us, if we are to have any chance of defeating the Legion". As the last word left the man's lips, the sound died from them in shock. "Alleria? You escaped the Xenedar!"
Selaerosona rose and turned at the mention of her absent mother's name, only to see a battle scarred paladin standing a little ways behind her. However, as soon as the man locked eyes with her, his eyes widened from confusion to understanding and then into an incomprehensible whirlwind of emotions. He rose a battered gauntlet to chest, as though the shock he was experiencing threatened his very heartbeat. "By the Light," he whispered, as though he were somewhere lost in a thousand years of war, "Selaerosona?"
Sela's eyebrows knitted together, utterly confused as to why this man looked upon her this way.
Without warning, the man closed the distance between them, and before Sela, in stunned state, could react, wrapping her tightly into his strong arms, giving her a tight embrace. Around them, the Krohul murmured amongst themselves in their native tongue, as Hatuun turned to Velen, confused himself.
However, it was only Velen who understood what was truly going on. It both filled his heart with hope, and broke it at the same time. How sad would the man be to know his daughter does not recognize this battle-scarred mortal when all her youth was spent gazing upon was a stone effigy in his place.
"We meet at last," Velen paused, watching as the man looked up from his bittersweet reunion, "High Exarch Turalyon".
The understanding hit Selaerosona hard in many ways, when Velen formally addressed the man embracing her as though his world grew bright once more. Droplets of water began to trickle down Selaerosona's face, though it was not raining. The tears of realization, heartbreak, and one of her two wishes since childhood coming true right before her eyes all solidified into one, shaky, endearing word.
"Father…"