The Funeral of Teldrassil
Thud. A groan. An arm covering eyes that are already screwed shut. Thud. A sharp exhale. Another arm throwing a blanket to the side. THUD. A gasp. Two arms supporting a Kaldorei as she pushes up from her pillow. THUD. THUD. Panting. Narrowed eyes. THUD. THUD. THUD. Wide eyes. Scrambling across the floorboards.
Syncerity trips her way to the window, peering out into the darkness of Darnassus. Her heart beats in her throat as she looks for the source of the noise, the constant thudding becoming louder, closer. She shoves the window open, leaning her hands upon the sill to find a better view. Immediately, she is overwhelmed with the creeping scent of smoke. Not campfire smoke, no. This is the smoke of iron and coal. This is the smoke of war. She stumbles away from the window, falling to her bed and rummaging quickly, messily, through the table beside her.
In only moments, she is dressed. The last thing that she finds in the drawer is a small, crescent-moon pendant that she hurriedly shoves into a boot as she takes off for the door. She throws the door open, stepping out of the comfort of home. Everywhere, she sees civilians staring terrified at a wall of blazing fire as it crawls up the bark of Teldrassil and over the walls of Darnassus. Archers flee their positions. Some sentinels are marching for the gates. Others are rounding up citizens. Syncerity can only stand in place, frozen in fear.
She has seen her home lost before. She knows that she is about to witness that once more. Tears already prickle in her eyes, but she wipes them away with determined fingers before she takes in a deep breath. She runs for the Temple of Elune, overtaking the crowds of Kaldorei swarming toward the temple. She is breathless as she arrives, the clouds of smoke hanging above Darnassus like a heavy, woolen throw, weighing down the citizens.
Just inside the temple, Syncerity can hear the tell-tale signs of the Magi – they are opening portals to Stormwind. The Horde must be attacking from Lor’danel. How quickly had it fallen? A snarl rips through her as she imagines the fallen Kaldorei, once again slaughtered on the beaches of Darkshore. She looks back toward the housing district, her eyes tracing the jumbled mass of heads making their way toward the temple, tripping over one another, some falling to the smoke inhalation, Elders slowing the pack. A pained look crosses her face.
She runs back toward the housing district, ignoring the pleas of the Sentinels for her to get through the portal. The closer she gets to it, the louder the screams become. There are Kaldorei trapped. There are Kaldorei suffering, burning. The tears fall from her eyes, and this time, she makes no attempt to stop them. She is already mourning. She falls back to the end of the crowd, following those still standing. She encourages those faltering, offering her arm, her shoulder, her anything that she -can-.
When she reaches the temple once more, she does not flee for the portals. She stands at the entrance, and she looks back at her home. She looks toward the bank, the very center of Darnassus, now in flames, engulfed in the raging fire. She cries for the tellers that were caught behind the falling branches. She looks toward the terrace, obscured by heavy, black smoke. She cries for the Kaldorei that no longer breathe, their lungs filled with ash. She looks to either of her sides. Lines of Sentinels stand beside her, their heads turned toward the sky, the tears trailing down their blade tattoos. This is it. This is the funeral of Teldrassil, isn’t it?
Syncerity breaks herself away, turning for the inner temple. The Stormwind Magi offer their own tears. She closes her eyes and steps through the portal, her stomach turning. She arrives in the Mage Quarter of Stormwind City, stumbling through the portal and falling onto hands and knees, listening to and watching the other refugees. She stands on shaky feet, finding a tree to lean upon before she vomits into the grass before screaming, grasping her throat, and falling to the ground beneath her, the wails wracking her body.
