A/N: Please be aware that this is a collection of short stories based on characters from my Warcraft fanfic "Sirens of Azeroth". This is not meant to be a stand alone story, but supplemental reading linked to SoA, meaning, to understand just what the hell is going on, you'll have to have read it first. This is dedicated to all of the readers that have made SoA such a joy to write. Thank you so much, and I hope you enjoy this extended journey into the lives of some of your favorite character. ~ T Mirai

A Prologue of Sorts

...in which Leyla decides to run away.

Leyla Jadefern was angry. No, beyond angry. She was frustrated past a willingness to be understanding, which is why she had so abruptly snatched the letter sent from her brother from her father's hand and turned around, determined to stomp out of the house. It made her feel childish and petty, acting like such a brat, but if her parents refused to treat her like an adult, she didn't know why she wasted her breath and energy trying to assert herself as one.

"Leyla," her father said in his stern, hard voice, halting the young night elf's steps before she could reach the hall. Archdruid Kal Jadefern's serious face and stiff, imposing height was just as commanding as his tone. His brow was knitted over his golden eyes, lips pulled into a scowl Leyla had seen him wear too many times. "I apologize for...breaking your harp," he said with more gruffness than repentance in his voice. "It was not my intention to do so. All the same, we asked you a legitimate question that I think deserves an answer."

Biting her lip and balling her fists, Leyla spun around to regard her father with an infuriated sneer. "I don't understand why I should answer any of your questions when you're just going to dismiss my answers, father," she replied tersely. Her eyes flicked to the pieces of wood and loose strings near her the druid's feet. "Or break my things."

Lifting his chin and narrowing his eyes, the elder of the Jadefern family regarded his daughter shrewdly. "As I said, that was an accident, but you would not pay attention to your mother and I and stop playing. Perhaps if you would act more maturely when we are discussing your future and pay attention, such things wouldn't happen," he retorted.

"Surfal..." the priestess sitting in the wicker chair next to where her husband stood said softly, frowning at him before looking at Leyla. Despite the fact her tone was quieter than her husband's, it was no less reproachful. "Do you think our concerns and wishes for you are unwarranted?"

Frustrated and wishing she could just leave before her temper flared up even hotter, Leyla put a hand to her temple to rub it as if it would ease her pounding headache. "No, but when you express the same ones repeatedly day-after-day, expecting them to change abruptly, I think it's a little excessive!"

"If you showed some initiative in your life beyond playing your harp and idling your time away, we would have no reason to ask you," Kal interjected, gesturing angrily to the broken instrument that lay in parts on the floor, cracked when her father pushed it down in anger during their argument.

Meerna Jadefern lifted a hand to silence her husband, who growled in frustration and turned away. "Leyla, you have been of age for some time now," she said to her daughter in that calm, almost condescending voice she always used. As if she was speaking to a youngling. "We have...come to accept that you are not meant to be a priestess. If Elune does not will it, so be it, but your father is right. You cannot be idle and without ambition when your brother and so many are risking their lives and journeying away from Teldrassil, or even within its borders, to serve the needs of our people."

Leyla snorted, rolling her eyes at the irony of her mother's words. "How am I to aid our people outside of Darnassus if you fret and complain when I just go to Dolanaar?"

"Had you completed your training at least, you would have learned enough to protect yourself!" her father growled, folding his arms. "Kaldorei even younger than you at least know proper defense."

Narrowing her eyes at the old druid, Leyla's fingers tightened, crumpling the letter in her hand. It was the letter that had been the catalyst for this particular squabble. But anything could set off an argument between her and her parents. Leyla only had to breathe and it seemed like a conflict was sure to ensue.

Inhaling a deep breath, the young night elf released it in a slow, heavy sigh. "An'da...en'da..." she murmured, trying to subdue her steadily rising annoyance. "I don't know what you want from me. I am not a priestess. I am not a druid. I admit I am still not certain what I would like to pursue in my life, but you cannot continue too—"

"This is not the time to be a useless, indecisive member of society!" Kal interrupted, volume rising again. "We are still rebuilding the very livelihood of our people, child, while trying to assert ourselves within the Alliance. Our resources are already spread thin here on Kalimdor, not to mention the Eastern Kingdoms. We must maintain presence in Outland as well. The Kaldorei need every one of their children to devote themselves to the cause. There is plenty you could be doing to offer aid. Your mother needs help harvesting herbs for her potions, for one. You could even take up alchemy."

Groaning in exasperation, Leyla couldn't help a frustrated stamp of her foot. "An'da, you know that I abhor potion making. I don't even know why you would suggest that! I'm terrible at it!"

"Then you need to figure out what you can do, Leyla!" the elder druid snapped back,pointing at his daughter. "Think of someone besides yourself for once and about what you can do for others! You will never have any worth among our people if you continue this...listless, self-centered apathy! And you certainly won't be fit to be the mate of a Druid of the Grove!

Meerna gasped and Leyla would have too, had she not been robbed of her voice in her shock. Her hand had flown to her lips, silver eyes wide and hurt as she stared at her father in disbelief. "How...how could you even say that?" she murmured, the pain evident in her voice.

Kal's ears flicked, gaze dropping to the letter Leyla held. "You wonder why he doesn't come back to you..."

"Kal!" Meerna snapped, long brows knitted above her wide eyes. "That is enough!"

"No! Perhaps this is what she needs to hear!" he silenced his wife, keeping his gaze on Leyla. Kal Jadefern's expression was not without some remorse, his ears drooping down and his face softening for a moment before he sighed heavily, walking toward his young daughter. "Leyla...Azurian is going to become a very powerful druid. His healing skills and connection with the earth are hailed by the Archdruid himself. He has done much for our people and continues to prove himself as a leader among our society. He is like a son to me, and just like with Alaric...I want to see him with someone that would be a proper match for him. Someone worthy."

The words stung Leyla deep to her core and the tears that rolled down her cheeks were not only of frustration, but offended hurt. Her mother look just as scandalized, gawking at her husband in disbelief. Kal Jadefern kept his eyes level with his distraught daughter's before looking away. "You are not ready to be his, Leyla," he murmured, shaking his head. "He knows this and...surely you do too."'

Leyla didn't realize she was shaking until her father's heavy hand placed itself on her shoulder. She skittishly yanked herself away from him, backing up until she was pressed against the wall. Despite Kal's rueful expression, the young night elf could feel nothing but fury for her father. For both her parents. For Azurian and even Alaric to some degree. Did they all see her as worthless and weak?

Brows furrowing above her narrowed, wet eyes, Leyla bore her teeth in a furious snarl. "I would rather be a...listless, worthless woman than what any of you deems as worthy," she rasped, voice breaking with emotion. "And I would never want my worth to be centered around the fact that I am his wife. I will not let you, him, or even our people dictate to me what I should be!"

Both her parents were as stupefied silent as Leyla had been a moment ago, and whether or not they were struggling to form a reply, the night elf didn't care. Her mother was calling her name as she swiftly stalked down the hall of the house to her bedroom and slammed the door behind her, pressing her back against it. She thought she would be followed at first, but when Leyla heard no footsteps or voices from the hall, she stepped away from the door and covered her face.

Leyla was tired of crying. Though this particular argument had by far been the worse, this was not the first time she had heard such words from her father and mother. They were frustrated with her, she understood. They had one child who was becoming one of the most renowned and respected druids among the Kaldorei, and another who seemed to fail at almost everything she pursued. Yet they did not seem to realize that the one who was most frustrated with Leyla was herself.

Whatever she was meant to be, she felt she would never discover that within Darnassus. It was as much a prison for her as it was a haven, serving to remind her that she had found no place within its walls, at least according to her parents and, apparently, Azurian as well. So many young Kaldorei had ventured outside of the protective boughs of their new Home Tree to seek their paths and fortunes elsewhere. Leyla found herself longing to follow behind them, but she was caught in a vicious cycle: if she didn't know how to protect herself and be on her own, how could she ever leave Darnassus and learn how to be on her own?

Fingers loosening around the long roll of parchment in her fist, Leyla looked down at the letter that had arrived just that morning from her brother. As always, Alaric Jadefern's correspondence had arrived on the first moon of the month. Yet it was both what that letter was missing (once again) and contained that had disheartened her and pushed her frustrated anger to its crescendo. No longer were Alaric's letters bundled with a second roll of parchment written in Azurian's careful hand writing and addressed to Leyla. It had been more than a year since the other druid had written regularly, and several months since he had written at all. In Alaric's recent letter, there was only the briefest, most impersonal mention of Azurian.

We are well and miss you all dearly, especially you, my little sister. Azurian hopes that you are well and wishes Elune's blessings on you.

Wrenching open the wooden chest at the foot of her bed, Leyla rifled through its contents until she pulled out a large, partially filled traveling pack. It held a collection of various objects, including a bundle of papers bound with a piece of twine. She removed the stack of parchment—old, slightly wrinkled and stained letters—and carefully unbound it. They were all folded neatly and lovingly in a stack, arranged chronologically so that the one on top, the one she picked up and unfolded, was the last letter she had received from her druid lover.

Leyla knew each one nearly by heart, having spent many a night reading them in the privacy of her bedroom by moonlight, their tenderly written words instilling in her a deep yearning for the one that wrote them.

Yet now, as her eyes scanned the familiar paragraphs and her mind heard Azurian's voice speaking them, they filled her with nothing but burning resentment...

Some years before...

"I don't want vegetable stew for dinner."

Looking over her shoulder, long violet hair swinging down her back, Leyla blinked with wide eyes at the druid that had suddenly appeared behind her. Flushing faintly, she clucked her tongue and rolled her silvery glowing eyes. "Mother said you looked undernourished," she quipped back with a shrug of her shoulders. "And nothing is more nourishing than her vegetable stew."

Growling softly, Alaric Jadefern made an unhappy grunt. "What I need is some meat," he grumbled, looking over his little sister's shoulder at the collection of greens and root vegetables in her sack. Lips curling back to reveal the tips of his elongated canines, the druid sighed. "I ate nothing but dried jerky and pickled vegetables while in Ashenvale. I want something more substantial. And bloody."

Snorting with a chuckle, Leyla turned around to touch her brother's slightly scruffy chin and jaw, not missing the presence of darker, purplish-brown hair there streaked in the deep violet. "You really have been spending too much time as a bear, Alaric," she teased, smirking before returning her eyes back to the vendor's stall, scanning through the displayed vegetables and fruits. "How did your meeting with the Circle go?"

Alaric rolled his large shoulders and grunted, nose twitching and bright, amber eyes lowering to watch a wisp float past them. "Fair, I suppose," he replied with a shrug and a scowl his sister could not see. "We gave our report on the movements of the Burning Legion, and a group of Silverwing Sentinels spoke about the Horde's encroachment on the ancient forests there. And there was talk of other disheartening things that will soon need immediate attention." He sighed and shook his head, the bone ornaments around his neck tinkling. "Nothing that makes for good conversation, little one."

Pursing her lips in concern, Leyla glanced back at Alaric, an expression of sisterly worry on her face. "You were in Ashenvale for months, Alaric. You really should relax a little bit before jumping right back into other Cenarion Circle business."

Chuckling thinly, Alaric carded his fingers through his wild, partially bound hair. "Tell that to father and the Archdruid." Watching his sister pick through a pile of potatoes, the druid's face fell briefly before he grunted and looked away once more. "Though I might just...get out of the city for a little while. Perhaps shift and go running to Dolanaar or to the lake to bathe."

Leyla snickered, inspecting a potato before putting it in her sack. "I thought I just said you've been spending too much time as a bear? But, if that's what you want to do, alright. I'm sure being back here in Darnassus is stifling for you." Grinning wryly, she flicked her eyes down at her bags. "Now that you've been all over the world."

Observing his sister's behavior, and not missing the jealous wistfulness in her voice, Alaric smiled faintly and reached up to comb his fingers through Leyla's long tresses. "Yes, it is..." he murmured. "But honestly, at times...I can think of no other place I'd want to be than here."

Looking up and over her shoulder to meet her older brother's gaze, Leyla frowned at the expression she found him wearing. "Alaric, what's wrong?"

The druid's lips quirked upward faintly and he petted his sister's head. "Speaking of relaxing, I do know there is someone who is very much in need." Hooding his eyes impishly, Alaric winked. "And I'm sure he's leaving the Cenarion Enclave right now, looking haggard, worn, and longing for—"

Eyes widening and cheeks flushing brightly as she gasped, Leyla nearly squealed in delight. "He's here? Now? Why didn't you tell me!" she giggled, bouncing, jostling the produce in her bag.

Alaric chuckled, charmed and uplifted by his younger sister's giddiness from hearing her lover had returned home. "Let me take these to mother," he said with a sly grin, gently tugging the bag from her arms. "And I'll tell her and father you are enjoying an evening with your handsome Druid of the Grove. I'm sure they'll excuse you from dinner tonight. And I'm sure you'll enjoy getting away from them for an evening."

Nibbling her bottom lip, the night elf's ice blue skin turned an even brighter shade of red. "Thank you, Alaric," she told her brother with a smile, leaning up to kiss his cheek and nuzzle her nose against his jaw.

The druid squeezed his sister's arm fondly and kissed her forehead. "Just...go be sweet and kind to him like only you can. He deserves it."

Smiling wider, Leyla patted her brother's chest and canted her head playfully. "You should find someone to be sweet and kind to you. You deserve it too."

Alaric only smirked wryly and made a shooing gesture. "Go on now. You'll miss him if you wait too long."

Leyla grinned at Alaric, blew him a kiss, then after picking up the hem of her long, flowing skirts, dashed quickly away, navigating through the throngs of people walking the paths of the Tradesmen's Terrace in the direction of the Cenarion Circle. With each step she took that carried her closer to Azurian, jittery excitement thrummed in Leyla's body, evident in the brighter gleam of her silver eyes, the rosiness of her cheeks, and the broad smile on her lips.

In the back of her mind, something nagged at her, unnerved by her brother's odd behavior. Yet it was such a small concern at that moment, overwhelmed and pushed aside by her ever growing euphoria.

"Leyla?"

Nearly on the cusp of sleep, the female's eyes fluttered open and she made a sleepy noise, stirring against the nude, light-indigo colored body next to her. When her glowing gaze found the others amber stare, she smiled and spooned closer to the Kaldorei druid, draping a leg and an arm over him to tug herself closer. "Mmhmm?" she hummed softly, kissing lightly over his thick pectoral.

Sighing through his nose and releasing the breath in a small moan, Azurian's hand reached up to lazily drift up and down the sensual curve of his lover's spine. "I need to talk to you about something."

"Mmm? Oh?" Leyla replied with an impish grin, pecking her lips teasingly around his darker, dusky nipple. She smiled wider at the soft hiss that escaped his lips when her fingers drifted down the crease of his hard stomach.

Wetting his lips and sighing through his nose, the druid pursed his lips, trying to ignore the female's touch moving lower down his body. "The Cenarion Circle is returning to Sithilus."

The words were far from anything she would have expected him to say, and far from anything she wanted to hear at that moment. The night elf froze, hand stilling, waiting for him to continue as her pulse quickened. There was only one reason he would tell her such a thing.

"Your father has requested that Alaric and I go with them."

Leyla pushed up on her forearms to look down at Azurian, long brows knitted over her eyes. "But...what about your work here?" she asked, her heart thumping hard in her chest. She was sure he could feel it between their naked skin, as well as the tensing of her body. "I thought destroying the satyrs and curing the tree's infections was most important to the Circle right now?"

She could see Azurian's jaw tighten behind his closed lips. "The Archdruid and his council have concluded that the Life-Binder's blessings have strengthened Teldrassil to a point that what corruption remains is manageable by a...smaller force of druids and volunteers. But in Sithilus, the situation there has worsened to the point that more than just monitoring and observation is needed. The Twilight's Hammer cult are amassing again. There have been reports of Qiraji moving inside the borders of the Scarab Wall." Azurian's expression sobered even further. "A second war seems imminent."

Ears drooping and eyes widening in both fear and disappointment, Leyla averted her gaze from the druid's. "And...you are going." She knew this was true even before Azurian answered. It's why Alaric had acted so odd in the marketplace. It was what he hadn't told her.

"Yes," he said with a small nod. "A large group of sentinels and druids will be deployed as soon as resources are gathered and we coordinate with the tauren."

Leyla couldn't mask her further displeasure and sorrow with this news even if she wanted to. "You don't have to go just because my father asked you to," she grumbled with an angry snap in her tone. "If you want to stay and continue your work here in Teldrassil, I am sure he would understand."

Pursing his lips faintly, Azurian sighed through his nose. "He has already spoken with the Archdruid about it, Leyla. I am needed in Sithilus and...I want to go."

Lips twitching in quick irritation, Leyla sighed heavily. She felt awkward being so affectionately spooned against Azurian when all she wanted to do was shove him out of the bed. "I see," she replied tersely, leaning up to sit back against the wooden headboard, giving enough space between their bodies so that they weren't touching.

Azurian frowned, rolling over on his side to prop himself up on an elbow, sex tussled hair falling in his glowing eyes. Leyla didn't look at him. She didn't want to be reminded of how utterly in love she was with this infuriatingly dutiful, handsome druid.

"Leyla, I'm sorry..." he said softly in a tone meant to placate her like the hand on her knee, though it only had the opposite effect. Azurian could see the flush of anger in her cheeks and he sighed, withdrawing his touch. "I didn't know this would happen so soon."

"You said you would be in Darnassus for at least a long while," she muttered, trying to keep her voice steady, though it was already wavering as tears trickled down her cheeks.

Lowering his ears and gaze, Azurian looked down at the space between them. "I know."

"You said the Archdruid wouldn't send you away again because of your service at Hyjal-"

"I know, Leyla, but things have-"

"You said you wanted to stay here with me."

Falling silent for a long moment, the druid glanced up at his younger lover. "Leyla...I do," he replied in a voice that was a little less patient than before. "You know that. But I have a duty to the Circle. I cannot be selfish and choose being here with you over protecting our people, even the world, from those creatures."

His calloused, gentle hand reached up to touch her cheek and direct her gaze down to him. Tears dripped down her cheeks and her anger was a hot, irritated thing in her chest, but it could not help but deflate a little when she saw Azurian's handsome, tender smile and the regret in his gaze. "I would do anything to protect you," he whispered.

Leyla swallowed down the sobbed pleas she so desperately wanted to use against his rational argument, pushing her frustration beneath a knowledge that he was right. First and foremost, Azurian would always be a druid of the Cenarion Circle. And as spoiled and demanding as she could be, Leyla would never be so selfish as to ask him to put her above such a gravely and infinitely important task.

"Then...be careful protecting me," she replied in a weak voice, smiling with wobbly lips and reaching up to put her hand on his where it rested on her cheek.

Azurian smiled and leaned up to press his mouth firmly against Leyla's. The druid's earthy, masculine scent and the warmth of his kiss overwhelmed her anger, assuaging it beneath a soft blanket of calm and comfort that only he could imbue in her. Her arms unfolded and draped around his shoulders when he sat up to tug her against his solid, muscular chest.

When they were breathless from kissing, Leyla lay her head against Azurian's collarbone and closed her eyes, making it a point to commit everything about that moment to memory. The soft thump of his heart, the heat and strength of his corded body against hers, the rhythmic slow rush of breath in and out of his lungs-she took in every detail about her lover to hold on to when he was gone. For there was no telling how long he would way.

"What should we do about the ceremony?"

And with those few words, the bittersweet moment between them just became...bitter. Silver eyes opening abruptly, Leyla's brows knitted. "What...do you mean?" she warily asked, resisting lifting her gaze.

Shifting on the bed a little, Azurian cleared his throat. "Well, I...doubt that I'll be here at the end of the season," he began slowly, obviously choosing his words carefully. "And with the priests and druids so occupied by matters with the Alliance, the situation in Sithilus, and curing the taint of the corruption here, I doubt any of them will be able to perform it earlier. Not to mention, your father and mine are still traveling with the Archdruid. We don't know when they and the other Elders will return." He chuckled thinly. "They would be quite displeased if we were to wed without them present."

Leyla felt the prickle of tears behind her glowing eyes return, as well as the urge to push Azurian as hard as she could to the floor. Once more, the druid spoke with rationale, yet the younger night elf could not help but wonder what unspoken words were beneath what he said. After Hyjal, he had always talked so vehemently against the possibility of having to leave Darnassus and his wife-to-be for matters the Cenarion Circle involved themselves in outside of Teldrassil. Ever loyal to the Archdruid Fandral Staghelm, Azurian shared his conviction that the Kaldorei need only be concerned with what involved the Kaldorei, and that as long as they were safe within the boughs of their new Home Tree, even venturing outside of it was unnecessary. He didn't want to lose her, he would say. Perhaps they should even consider moving the date of their wedding ceremony up.

It seemed as if Azurian's thoughts about a lot of things had changed.

"Yes...they would be displeased," she murmured mutely, closing her eyes to force back her tears. "I suppose...it's best that we postpone it until you return."

The druid's chest heaved against her as he sighed, and Azurian's large hand gently tilted her chin up. His face wore an expression of pain and regret, just as hers did. Leyla felt guilty that she doubted how genuine it was.

"I know the days seem even longer, now that we are mortal," he murmured, rubbing their noses together, effortlessly disarming her anger again. "But I promise you, as soon as my duties with the Circle are over and I can return to Darnassus, we will be wed in front of all people and the Goddess and I will never leave you."

Azurian's charming, reassuring smile made Leyla's body flush and his firm fingers left trails of heat across her skin as he carded his hand through her violet hair and dragged them down her back. His breath was warm, as were his lips, both ghosting against her mouth as he whispered huskily. "I promise."

Leyla was going to say something, but even if Azurian hadn't kissed her in that firm, sensual, voice-stealing way only he could, she wouldn't have known exactly what to tell him. She could have said that she didn't want him to leave, but if he had to she would rather them wed without their parents' presence, just for the joy and relief of knowing that they truly belonged to one another. She even could have been bluntly honest and voiced her doubts about his fidelity to her.

But with Azurian kissing her that way only he could and his lovingly murmured promise echoing in her ears as he pressed her coaxingly back into the bed, she could do nothing but submit to him and pray to Elune that he would keep his word and return soon.

Scowling down at the last letter she had received from him, written in his neat handwriting, signed "Always yours, Azurian", Leyla crumbled the parchment into a ball and tossed it furiously into the small hearth burning near her bed. Yes, he had returned. And left again. And returned once more. And left again. And every time he came back to Darnassus, walking up the path to her home, she was there waiting for him, taking him into her arms, lavishing him with affection and comfort, and inviting him back into her heart and into her bed. And in her bed, the promises were spoken again, sweet, placating words of reassurance that she clung to while watching him leave not long after. And in his letters, those words were repeated, always tender, charming, and enough to leave her satisfied in her long waiting.

When the letters stopped, so did the words, and it was then that Leyla realized just how long she had been waiting.

"No more," she sneered to herself, wiping at her tears angrily, refusing to shed any more. She dumped the rest of the bag's contents onto her bed-more bundled letters, a few carved trinkets and small gems Azurian had sent her over the years, and other collected knickknacks-and began removing clothes from her drawers to put neatly and compactly into the bag. For a brief moment, she debated burning the rest of the letters, and even the wooden figurines and glittering jewels, but by the time her pack was full and she was sliding a small dagger into the side pocket, she decided against it. Instead, she separated the jewels from the worthless items and the letters, stowing the latter away in a drawer of her dresser.

Sleep came difficultly that night, and before she managed to nod off for a few hours, Leyla had pondered over her plan repeatedly. She would take the portal to Rut'theran Village, then catch one of the boats to Auberdine. Once there, she could secure passage on another ship that would take her across the seas to Menethil Harbor in the Eastern Kingdoms. It was a busy port city, she had heard from Kaldorei and travelers that had been there. Based on their stories, she figured she had the option of either convincing a caravan to take her as far as the city of the dwarves in Dun Morogh, where she could take the goblin traveling contraption called a "tram" all the way to Stormwind, or find a way to afford a gryphon that could fly her directly to the human city.

Her greatest concern was money. She didn't have much reason to possess the common currency now used among the Alliance races. Leyla would need not only money for travel, but for proper armor and something more deadly than a short dagger to defend herself. Hopefully, the gems that Azurian had sent her would serve more purpose than they ever did sitting idly in her bag. If there worth wasn't sufficient, maybe there was a way she could earn some coin. There was always someone willing to give a few silver for an errand or favor, travelers said often in the inns.

Her parents accused she had no drive or determination. How wrong they were.

When her house grew quiet and Darnassus fell into a sleepy, even more placid state, Leyla rose from her bed, quickly dressed in light traveling clothes, and concealed herself in a cloak before hoisting her heavy pack onto her shoulders. She felt, expectantly, a small pang of fear and sadness as she looked around her bedroom, but thoughts of what could be awaiting her outside Darnassus' walls subdued that feeling beneath a steadily rising wanderlust. It was giddy and new in her veins, energized with nervous anticipation. It directed her through her parents' house on quiet, stealthy feet and down the darker, less direct routes of the city, avoiding the stony gazes and paths of the patrolling Sentinels, to the glowing pinkish-purple portal that lead to Rut'theran Village.

Hesitating just outside the magical circle of glowing light, Leyla turned around to take once last glance at the tranquil city. It wasn't the same as the smaller village in Nordrassil she had been raised in, but, like most younger Kaldorei, she had grown accustomed to Darnassus fairly easily and had embraced the sprawling city within the new World Tree as her home.

Now, the once calm, gently blowing winds felt like they were tugging at her, trying to coax her back into the protective embrace of the city's walls. The silence was nearly deafening in an annoying way that made Leyla want to scream just to disrupt it. Darnassus had become too predictable and even more stifling. If her brother, Azurian, and so many others had escaped what had tethered them to it and to the narrow-minded and isolationist practices of their people, so could she.

"Elune, protect me on my travels," she prayed silently and tugged her hood down low over her glowing eyes. Tightening her grip on the strap of her pack, Leyla Jadefern turned away from Darnassus' looming, quiet buildings and gently babbling channels, and stepped into the brightly illuminated portal, disappearing in a flash of fuchsia light.

A/N: When first writing Sirens of Azeroth, being that the first chapter began after Leyla's conflicts with her parents, I had to brainstorm what exactly occurred between them and in her life that caused her to run away. Now I see that her reasoning was very much influenced by events that were going on in my own life. Some of you may have remembered my author's notes/profile updates about being busy and stressed out finding a job. Like Leyla, I was in a position in my life when I wasn't sure what I wanted to and could do with myself, given how awful the economy was and how hard it was to find a job. My own parents were not at all very understanding about the time it took to "find myself" and figure out my life. I never had a harp that my father broke, but we had a lot of fights about it that were very similar. Though I don't fully identify with Leyla as a character, we definitely share some things in common. And I think that battling with parents over one's future is something everyone can relate to. Though I have since then found a great job and made peace with my parents, it was therapeutic to write this chapter.

In regard to the title, it was chosen more so for the meaning behind the phrase than the actual song by Poison, haha. And I've kept the M-rating just because I'm not sure what will transpire in future chapters. Better to be safe.

And now you know what Leyla's parents' names are, what exactly happened between her and Azurian, and what led our Baby Thorn to being chased by murlocs in the Wetlands.

If there are any characters you'd like to know more about/questions you want answered/etc. from SoA, please, send me a review or post them on my Formspring account (link in my profile). I'd love more ideas for future stories.