Protector of the Horde

The whitehaired Elf did not said anything for a long time.

Then, quiet, barely hearable, barely a whisper, barely sounding through the womans shaking breaths she said: “We were surrounded. I needed to- …the only way to escape was clearing the way, but…but…the soldiers who would clear the way would have…”

The other words drowned insobs. Mar, who was still listening,  felt a suspicion grow in her stomach , like a small thornbush that stitched stitched,

stitched,

stitched in her guts with every now followig word.. “I had to mak sure that at least most of my soldiers survived, even if that would mean that the ones clearing the way would- It was my responsibility. Their lifes were my responsibility…..I had to make a decision. I needed to make a decision. I-I made a decision-”, Fullas small frame trembled, but not of coldness: “…The man was one of those I chosed to clear the way…”

And in contrast to his comerades, he survived. He survived, knowing I had send him, his comerades, his friends, to death.

Fulla did not said the last sentences, but yet they were loud and hearable for everyone in the tent as if she had screamed those words with the last rest of strenght in her meager body.

In the silence, the whitehaired Elf started crying again.

Alyndrah hugged her arms to her chest. She sympathized with the other elf. Being a leader meant making tough choices. There was never an easy way out or the right answer. Every choice that was made in a time of war impacted someone and made someone hate you.

Her time in Draenor had been a clear example of that. She had many question her authority, leave their posts because of disagreements, and even had assassination attempts on her life because of those choices.

“It’s never easy.” she mumbled. “I’m sure you did what you thought what was best for your men.” But the man… well in his own eyes he had every right to be angry. To want to hurt her for it, not that Alyndrah would allow that. That wasn’t how justice was handed out.

Alyndrah awoke, her face buried in a pillow. She pushed herself onto an elbow before bringing a hand up to rub her eyes. A rather pale hand, in fact. The paladin was by no means pale. Nor did she have dark hair…

Alyndrah sprung out of bed to the nearest mirror. She inhaled sharply when the face that stared back was not her own. But it was one she recognized. The young Sin’dorei, Threrian.

Not only did she look like him, she wore his clothes. A long black coat with gold trim and a Scryer’s tabard. Clothes she certainly hadn’t fallen asleep with.

Alyndrah paused for a moment, as if in thought. “Ah, yes, I remember your singing. It is quite calming. I recall being extremely distressed about my ally’s death. But to use it on a foe? That’s interesting.”

Alyndrah awoke, her face buried in a pillow. She pushed herself onto an elbow before bringing a hand up to rub her eyes. A rather pale hand, in fact. The paladin was by no means pale. Nor did she have dark hair…

Alyndrah sprung out of bed to the nearest mirror. She inhaled sharply when the face that stared back was not her own. But it was one she recognized. The young Sin’dorei, Threrian.

Not only did she look like him, she wore his clothes. A long black coat with gold trim and a Scryer’s tabard. Clothes she certainly hadn’t fallen asleep with.

With her ears pinned back, Mar looked over to the two Elfs. The Halforc had never been good at reading another persons mimic as long as it was not the movements of the others eyes to predict where the other would strike the sword to or where their next step would lead to, therefor the young woman said nothing and just watched Alyndrah quietly.   When Alyndrah touched her shoulder, the white haired Elf on the bed twitched as if the Paladin had touched her with a broiling piece of cole. She looked up to the blonde woman, cheeks red, the felgreen of the bloddelfeyes drowned in eyes puffy from crying. The whitehaired womans legs, that had till now lay dead still gave a panicky jerk, a last memory of nerves, a uncontrollable unintended twitch, that soon died again and returned to stillness under the bed blankets. For a few moments she said nothing, the whitehaired elf let herself sink back in her bed, her face burried in the pillows, but for now her tears rolled silently down her cheeks.

“…Fulla.”, she muttered eventually quietly, her voice as thin as a crystalglasssplitter: “My name is Fulla….I was the leader of the brigade the man was part off…”

Alyndrah gave the woman a look of sympathy. Tried her best to bring about a calming aura, she wasn’t the best at this sort of thing, at calming others down, but she had been trying her best to learn how to be more comforting. Yet at her reaction, she pulled her hand away and gently placed it in her own lap.

“How can you say that with such a straight face? Or is it because you know the current situation is just temporary?” Nyhila asked, tracing a finger gently over the covering that hid Alyndrah’s swollen shut eye. “I would be sad if that happened, you are so pretty.” She added, her voice smooth as silk.

“I hvae heard of such incidents before, but mainly as rumour. However, sicne you confirmed it, I will have to be a lot more careful from now. I don’t want to end up as demon food, nor I admit would like the idea of needing to wink for days like you now. That one time was more than enough, I’m sure you feel the same way.”

“it’s fine, just spreading the word is already a big help.” As she said that, they reentered the priestess’s home and she made the paladin have a seat. “Do you mind if I remove the bandage before getting more ice?”

Before Alyndrah could respond to the question, she sputtered. “Oh… I…” pausing to clear her throat, she tried to will away the blush that crept up to her cheeks. After taking a breath, she answered. “I don’t just say it because the situation is temporary. I mean it earnestly. If I lost my eye, I’d learn to fight without it. I’ve seen many warriors work with less. Light, the Lord Regent is missing an eye and he’s still an admirable warrior. I say it because I know I am still needed in the fight. Whatever fight it is.”

Alyndrah chuckled at Nyhila’s joke. “Well, that would certainly be a shame. But yes, I do stress safety, even in the city. I wouldn’t want anything foul to happen to you, you are far too nice of a person for something like that to happen to you.”

Alyndrah awoke, her face buried in a pillow. She pushed herself onto an elbow before bringing a hand up to rub her eyes. A rather pale hand, in fact. The paladin was by no means pale. Nor did she have dark hair…

Alyndrah sprung out of bed to the nearest mirror. She inhaled sharply when the face that stared back was not her own. But it was one she recognized. The young Sin’dorei, Threrian.

Not only did she look like him, she wore his clothes. A long black coat with gold trim and a Scryer’s tabard. Clothes she certainly hadn’t fallen asleep with.

“Nothing keeps people better alive than Spite and Anger.”, Mar shrugged her broad shoulders, slowly she grabbed under her thigh and heaved her wounded leg on a pillow, grimacing when needles of pain stitched a aching line all the way up to her chest.  For a moment she was quiet, her bright springgreen eyes wandered over to the other Elfwoman, the one with a face like a bird and the white hair, who had not said anything yet.

The white haired Elfwoman in the other bed had started to cry quietly into her pillow,so silently, that even her shoulders barely trembled and she seemed to lay as still in the bed like a puddle of moonlight on the ground at midnight. Mar lay her ears back, but it was not of anger this time: “What do you think, Lady Alyndrah. Why that assassine wanted to kill her?”

Alyndrah nodded, more towards herself than to anyone. She too looked towards the other elf as she cried in her bed. With a pained grunt, she stood once more, sure that she’d receive another tongue lashing when the goblin guard finally got back with a healer.

She gently placed a hand on the white haired woman’s shoulder. “I don’t know, but I certainly won’t let him or someone else try again.”

“You don´t know that, lass!”  the Goblinguard bleated, her arms crossed over her chest and her face twisted to a disgruntled grimace: “Anyway, I will send a Healer here to check on you three. Stay exactly where you are this time!” Surpsingly fast, as if she actually was fearing that Alyndrah and Mar would really use the chance to run away, the Guard toddled out of the tent to call  for a Healer. From the bed, Mar peered after her before she pushed herself up to limp over to her own bed. Her ears turned after the change in sound in the blondes Elfs words like the ears of a alerted Deer. “That was cynicism, Milady.”, she said sternly while slowly letting herself down in her bed as she tried to not lean on her broken leg: “I pefer to be alive. Mostly out of spite, but also because of other reasons.”

From her spot, laying back on the bed, she merely gave the goblin a thumbs up as she left. The paladin let a huff. She was tired, and she wanted to sleep, but remnants of adrenaline still coursed through her veins. Hopefully she would calm down enough once the healers looked her over.

“Mm, my apologies, I don’t take such comments lightly. But it makes me feel better knowing you have the will to go one, whatever the reasons may be.” Her voice was somewhat soft, but her tone was serious. She turned her head so that she could look at the other two women.

“I know how you feel, but you must see it clearly that a fully recovered soldier helps more than an injured one. Be glad it’s not permanent.”

“You’re welcome! I don’t really have company, since most of the people who are my friends left Dalaran before it came to the Isles for safety reasons. They had it easier, their businesses branches of bigger ones so relocation was possible. It might sound selfish, but at least now I’m not that alone.”

“Don’t worry about it. If you truly insist, just point anyone to my place if they are looking for a tailor.” Nyhila winked with a chuckle.

“Well if it was permanent I’d have to start learning how to fight with only one eye.” Alyndrah said matter-of-factly.

“I’m sure many people chose to leave Dalaran rather than risk invasion. There are demons lurking in the city, even when it seems all is safe.” This was something she’d seen first hand when she had been in the city with the wielder of Truthguard, and the shield had exposed a demon.

“Bullshit! You should have promptly called me here!”,  with a simple waving of her hand the Goblin commanded the two guards to grab the assassine and pull him to his feet and out of the tent,  not breaking eyecontact with Alyndrah for a single second: “What was that about me telling you to just rest??”

Wordlessly the Halforc stared after the two guards and the assasine, unable to grasp that the situation could just be sloved so easily. Just a second before she had seen the Elfassassine rising a blade at Alyndrah, just a second before Mar had lay helpless on the bed, unable to be at Alyndrahs side in time. With a exhausted grunt Mar let herself fall flat on her stomach on the whitehaired Elfs bed, her head pressed in the hard sheets with no desire to ever face the world again: “Next time I will just allow the Demons Hammer to shatter my skull, maybe than I will finally have time to rest…”

Finally pushing herself to her feet, she walked to her bad and immediately collapsed onto it with a grunt. “And what would have happened if we had just gone back to sleep like you had said. A woman would have been dead.”

Alyndrah awoke, her face buried in a pillow. She pushed herself onto an elbow before bringing a hand up to rub her eyes. A rather pale hand, in fact. The paladin was by no means pale. Nor did she have dark hair…

Alyndrah sprung out of bed to the nearest mirror. She inhaled sharply when the face that stared back was not her own. But it was one she recognized. The young Sin’dorei, Threrian.

Not only did she look like him, she wore his clothes. A long black coat with gold trim and a Scryer’s tabard. Clothes she certainly hadn’t fallen asleep with.

As he stared, at the sight of his pale skin. Threrian gave a sigh of relief, closing his eyes he mumbled to himself. “So they, were able to pull it off after all.” Smiling to himself Threrian carried on. “I’m so glad to be back in my own body.”

She crawled out of Betha’s tent to find her comrades gathered by the fire pit. They immediately looked up expectantly.

“Lady Dawnbourne? Is that you?” Betha asked, her eyes wide.

Alyndrah smiled and nodded. She paused and gave a respectful bow to the three of them. “I thank you for your help. Where is Threrian?”