Masks

[Daedraug]

The candlelight flickered orange and golden on the window. Beads of fresh water multiplied on the glass pain as the rain continued to fall as it had for what seemed like days. In the dim glow of the room the ancient, grim eyes of a night elf stared in on reflections of themselves.

Inside all his allies were gathered. The liquor flowed freely about the room, each guest sipping tankards or glasses which never seemed to empty. Haldren laughed what must have been a great, booming guffaw; a silent image of his smile and great shoulders shaking was all the eyes knew. The rest seemed reserved but content, more smiles being worn than somber faces. The eyes saw them and knew they would be alright in the end because they were stronger than they realized. They would know that it was an inevitability that brought these trials on them, safe and comforted in their thoughts of once-great leaders no longer with them.

Most could never understand the betrayal that burned in the heart pumping behind the eyes. A few might feel the tug of it - the nagging sense that they had been lied to in some way or left behind - but on the whole the loss of the Ogema was more a rallying cry than a crime. Those who knew nothing of it would always be separated in some way from the few who shared the bond of resentment and the sting of abandonment.

The eyes saw the future in their faces as well. A new banner would be sewn, worn proudly across the breast of the zealous and idealistic young ones who had bolstered their ranks so suddenly before all of this. The world would remain on its course, and their minds would not dwell in the shadows his own seemed to live in. They would not think of the pain and danger caused to them by plans kept in secret and choosing ease over responsibility. To them, it would be as if nothing ever changed at all.

But it had. Everything had changed.

The face which held the eyes was now in the reflection as well, the worn black mask peeled away to reveal its features. He was so much younger than his eyes. Small twitches began to tug at the corners of the eyes, then his mouth. The light narrowed within his deep brow, then closed.

There, as the rain poured down, where no one would ever know they had been, tears began falling. He placed his hand against the slick wall of the inn to steady himself as his knees buckled slowly and he sank to the wet earth. His long, lean frame shuddered in a heap as he tried to catch the breath escaping him in great gusts. Thunder shook the sky and a wind rose up to bend the treetops.

He cried for his brother, which he had never done in all these years.

He cried for his sister, who he had allowed to become everything he hated about himself.

He cried for friends he had lost and friends he had failed.

He cried for the broken promises of blood oaths and solemn prayers and sworn oaths taken for life so easily cast aside.

At long last he cried for the love which he always knew he would never have, but never believed he would truly lose.

When the storm had passed and the cool night air relaxed to a fresh breeze the eyes were gone from the window. The dry, content souls inside were slowing but still enjoying eachother's company. Every trace of him had been erased in the cleansing flood; not a drop, track, or scent remained of him. It could have been days before anyone thought of him or where he might be.

Footfalls slick with rain carried him into the warmth of the inn. Haldren and Celestrae picked him out in an instant and greeted him with a smile. He flashed a smile back, wiped the rain from his face with the back of a hand, and took his place at the table.

[Kiraena]

Betrayal

The words still echoed in her ears, numbing her thoughts for what felt an eternity. It was all so sudden. So fast. A small sickness grew at the back of her throat.

Kurohane was leaving the Swordwaltzers.

Her and Xelthan were to start a family and lead the quiet life for a time. It was the perfect and peaceful ideal. Who wouldn't want such a life in a time such as this... days such as these. She couldn't shake the metalic taste nor the heavy fog that clung. She couldn't help but feel abandoned.

The Priestess held the tabard before her, tracing her fingers along the black threads and gold stitching. The pattern glittered in the campfire's light as she sat alone in the forests of Ashenvale. She was proud to call herself a Waltzer since the night she joined their ranks in that Stormwind tavern. That simple piece of cloth had seen much in its time. Countless battles had left their mark despite her careful mends and repairs. Blood stains marked the fall of enemies and friends alike. This one here, nearest the tip of the sword emblem... that was Celestrae from her struggle in Moonglade. And this one here near the waist... their fight against the Immortalis and the troll Lupa in Duskwood. This patch here on the back... from Operation Longrifle in the final battle to save Turen. All of it made her sick. Disgusted. Angry.

Crossed swords. They appeared more like a target now. A mark for death from countless Horde and Alliance alike. The Waltzers followed them into battle time and time again, with pride and honor. They believed in what this symbol stood for. They believed in their leader. They would follow into the Nether and back if asked. They believed... and were loyal to a fault. When the odds were greatest against them, when their own allies began to turn them away with sneers, when all hope seemed lost... their shining light vanished into darkness.

"Protect what is; fight for what must be?" She cursed and threw the tabard into the flames. Thick smoke rose as the fire crackled, burning deep into the threads and dye. Never again, she thought as the cloth curled and twisted from the heat. There was no room for hypocrisies any longer. This was her family now... and she would stand by them no matter the outcome.

Day was dawning when the cinders finally cooled . One last wisp of smoke danced towards the heavens as Kiraena made her way towards Astranaar. There was much work to be done.

From the ashes we shall rise
Forge our own path
Create our own destiny
To fight
To never give in
That is our absolution...

[Alucian]

Two pieces of parchment reflected the sunlight shining through the open window onto the lone occupant of the small room. The light itself carried a green hue, typical for the densely forested Moonglade, and it normally brought Alucian joy. This time, though...the dark markings that marred the pages destroyed any good feelings the sunlight may have brought.

Alucian's eyes were settled on the pages, though his gaze carried far beyond the words, transcending time and distance. The last few days had been more than trying for him, and the latest news simply added to the stress.

Slowly, one finger ran through his long goatee as he remembered, thinking back on his time in the Moonglade as well as the times under the banner of the Swordwaltzers. Some were good...some were bad...but all were memories he held tightly in his heart.

The last few days had tenaciously pulled those memories from his clenched fists and ground them to dust before his very eyes.

He'd received the first news several days prior. Surprisingly enough, he felt nothing. Kurohane Mistveil, now Ravendale. Their marriage had happened, the final seal done. A persistent, tiny voice chased his thoughts with a trickle of doubt about whether he even mattered to the two anymore, as not only was there no invitation waiting for him when he returned to the civilized world, but during that very ceremony, he was still trapped in the cage of his own mind, the cat spirit controlling his body and his actions. It seemed a touch destined, how Celestrae was drawn to him, even in that remote location...but, still he wondered, why was the Captain's month-long absence never noticed?

Alucian shook his head and stamped that thought out again. There was a lot going on while he was gone. It would have been simple to overlook the druid that spent most of his time in the Moonglade.

The second news came, and this time, he felt. He was so shocked that the emotions swirled inside him and he couldn't pin one down long enough. Their marriage complete, the newlyweds were leaving. Leadership was given to Kiraena, which Alucian felt was a fine choice. The Swordwaltzers, the group aimed at seeing justice brought to the land...was irrevocably scarred. The members who had sworn their allegiance to their Ogema now found themselves without the object of their oaths. Days passed and arrangements were made to bring together the remains of the guild and resurrect them under a new banner, one that would fit their united spirit and purpose, and the golden swords would be left behind. The officers of both guilds, old and new, felt extreme trepidation when bringing the plans to the group, but the former members of the Swordwaltzers proved their loyalty and trust yet again...they would all reform and continue their mission. Alucian remembered the relieved smiles on the faces of his companions as the group around them cheered on the decisions and plans for the future. For the first time in days, a shining ray of hope illuminated their lives.

As far as he was concerned, Alucian could only feel disappointment when he thought of his former Ogema. Some of the others may burn with rage or bitterness, but he felt neither. He simply was disappointed that she had chosen that path, but a part of him understood. That same nagging part wondered why she felt her and her new husband's lives were worth preserving but felt nothing about leaving the others to defend them...but again, Alucian stamped that thought out. Going in those circles was just as non-productive.

The third news came. He was so crushed that he couldn't feel anything. This news occupied the fine parchment on the left of his vision, written in flowing Druidic. Since he returned from being lost in himself, the druids of the Moonglade had been training him to ensure such a thing never happened again. He thought that things were going well, but apparently...they were not. Alucian still exhibited signs that the same loss of self might happen again, no matter how hard Alucian tried to steer away from that path. He'd spent too long in the wilderness hearing the voice of the cat, they'd said. There was no telling when it would happen, but he would revert again, they said. That time, there would be no salvation, and he would truly become wild...and could possibly hurt anyone, friend or foe, they said. They recommended...he distance himself from the druidic ways.

It was a very polite letter of termination, to say the least.

Now Alucian felt completely lost, completely moorless. He was being told to leave the life of a druid behind after he'd come so far. He would have to pick up a sword and learn how the rest of the world defended themselves, those that didn't have the blessing of nature. The reality of it had yet to sink in.

It was in this numb state that he received the news of Kurohane's arrest and her upcoming trial in Stormwind. He felt just a twinge of guilt, as he knew that his attacks while he wasn't himself might have been responsible for the escalation of Horde violence in the area, which in turn prompted the Swordwaltzers into action. However, he could not hold himself responsible for what they stated her crimes were. The loss of civilians... It didn't seem like her style, but the Kurohane Alucian had once known and loved seemed a ghost that only resided in his memories.

A melodic voice from ouside called to him, pulling him from his deep thoughts. It was then he noticed the warm streaks down his cheeks, which he quickly scuffed away with the back of his hand. He blinked a few times and cleared his throat, then went outside to greet the priestess that had helped pull him from his nightmare more than once. He met her warm smile with his own, and clasped his hand around hers.

If there was one druidic teaching that would remain in his heart always, it was that change is inevitable. It was up to him whether it would be for good or ill.

[Celestrae]

With nary a sound and only the slightest of motions, the deed was done.

The journey outward, from within her thick shell had finally begun. Months had passed, and nothing had changed, and the world was the same as it ever was... until Kurohane said goodbye.

No words ever sounded as sweet.

Celestrae had recieved the letter not but last night, and the courrier that brought it to her left as quickly as he came, so she was left alone in her room to read the carefully inked words by the dim candle she kept at her desk. Kurohane had been arrested in connection to civilian casualties during the planned assaults on Splinter Tree and Zoram'Gar. There was to be a trial. She didn't care to read the rest. She stood from her chair, and in the flickering light of the tiny hearth in her room, she carefully folded the letter back together, and tossed it in the fire. Kurohane was no one to her anymore. She hadn't been since the Moonglade. And now, she wasn't even the same person anymore. Celestrae found herself incapable of caring what happened to her former friend, and even less concerned with her new husband. She had never approved of their relationship, and especially not of the circumstances that lead to it. It had been what seemed like an eternity of smiling and nodding, and she had never had the courage to speak her mind on the subject. Alucian had seemed fine with it, but that was just as superficial as she had been about the whole thing. She hadn't even considered going to the wedding, and she felt sorry for Kiraena for having to perform it.

Celestrae stared at the fire for a moment, watching the letter burn; the flames curling over the parchment, blackening the edges first before greedily consuming the entire thing in a frenzy of hunger.

"Time to move on," she half-whispered to herself.

She walked back to the desk, and grabbed the piece of folded cloth that lay near the candlestick, rubbing it with her thumb, and feeling the smooth texture of the worn linen on her fingertips. She slowly unfolded the package, one corner at a time, until she revealed the contents: a tarnished, scarred piece of metal bearing the sigil of the crossed blades of the Swordwaltzers. She considered it a moment, rubbing some of the tarnish and grime away with her thumb, before turning on her heels and heading back to the fire.

The flames in the hearth seemed to sense what was about to happen, and lapped at the sides of the stone fixture with a renewed hunger.

Celestrae did not keep them waiting long.

The door to her room closed behind her, and in the midst of the orange glow of the fireplace, a small, dark object rested on the few remaining logs of the now-dying fire. The heat of the flames lapped over the crest again and again, and finally it gave way to their caresses, and its form began to shift and melt in the intense heat. The metal seeped over the remnants of the burning wood, and dripped onto the burning heart of the fire itself, encasing the embers in a golden tomb, extinguishing the flames and laying the final flicker of light to rest. The room fell silent as the final popping and crackling of the fire died down, and a gust of wind blew through the open window, battering the lone flame of the candle until it too succummbed, leaving the room in complete darkness.

Celestrae traveled to the inn where she knew Alucian was staying, and stood outside his window, watching the steady glow of the candle that illumiated his room. She thought to call out to him, but paused for a moment, and sighed quietly. She knew that things would only get better from this point on, but the future still frightened her. For many months, all that had awaited her over the next hill had been more frustration and more heartache, and she wasn't sure if she had enough resolve left to see her through if things turned once again for the worse. This time though, she had someone to stand beside, and that made the prospect of dark times looming ahead seem less intimidating. Everyone was ready to move on, and in time they would find new colors, and a new sense of purpose, and be drawn together once again to face the trials of the world with a stount mind and a steady heart. She smiled to herself, and tapped on the window gently, calling Alucian's name. She saw movement in the dim light of the room, and moments later, he emerged through the door, greeting her with that gentle smile of his that made her feel as though she would never be alone again. If there was only one thing in the world she had Kurohane to thank for, it was this.

"I'm glad you're awake... I... was wondering if you might like to take a walk?" she asked, her voice quiet and shy. Being so close to someone still made her feel uncomfortable, but it was as much the quiet excitement of finally finding some shred of happiness as it was concern about the future to come.

"Of course. It's a little late, but I wasn't ready to get to bed yet anyway," he responded, grasping her hand in his. She was startled at first by the rough callouses that now dotted his palm and fingers, but she reasoned that the druids of the Moonglade probably had him doing some task to take his mind away from the events in the Warsong Camp.

The warmth of his touch made her smile all that much more brightly, and the two began to stroll along the moonlit road, at first in silence, but soon Celestrae found herself unable to simply enjoy the moment.

"Were you worrying about the future?" she asked, her voice filled with reservation. Perhaps it was not the wisest of things to say.

"I would... if I weren't so sure that all of us will come through this closer than ever," he replied, looking down at her with a slight smile. "This doesn't change anything except our resolve to make things better."

"I'm worried about Kiraena... but then again I know that she will do her best for all of us, and that is all we can ask of her."

"I am too," he said, squeezing her hand gently. "But like I said, if we dwell on the past, then we cannot move on to the future, and with everyone trying as they are to make it so much better than what we are leaving behind... I'm not prepared to believe that anything but brighter days are on the horizon."

Celestrae looked up at him, gently pulling on his hand, stopping them in the middle of the road. The moon shone down through a cloudless sky, illuminating them in an ethereal glow, and the crickets were in fine symphonic form, filling the night with a serene music that seemed to drift on the lazy breeze that wound its way through the street. Alucian looked at her, his brow furrled slightly in puzzlement at the sudden stop; his eyes still feral from the ordeal, but their warm glow was still as comforting as always.

"Alucian... I need to tell you something," she finally managed to say after a long, uncomfortable pause.

Alucian tilted his head to one side, still wearing that gentle smile that he always had when he looked at her. "What is it?" he asked in a low voice.

His gaze made her feel somewhat uncomfortable, and she unconsioulsly shifted her weight from one foot to the other before finally managing to speak her question. The breeze tugged at her robe, sending ripples through the soft fabric, giving her goosepimples.

"I... " she stammered, her words failing her as she looked at Alucian's kind face. She suddenly forgot everything that she was going to say, and simply placed her free hand on his face, and pulled him down to her, kissing him there in the middle of the street.

The moment seemed to last for hours, but when she pulled away from him, he smiled, and she could see his cheeks were quite flushed. She smiled, and realized that it didn't matter what happened from here on out; only that she and him and everyone would be free of the specters that had haunted them for so long, and that the road was free and open to any who whiched to travel down it once more. She looked down the road, into the darkness ahead, dwelling on the soft glow of the street lamps as they did their best to drive away the shadows and show the path that lay before them.

Alucian turned and looked in the same direction. "What are you thinking about?" he asked, squeezing her hand again.

Celestrae brushed a few stray hairs from her face before replying. "I'm remembering what it was like not to be afraid of the future," she said as she pivoted on her heels and began to walk down the empty road, with Alucian in tow. The two looked at each other once more, and smiled as their forms disappeared into the darkenss of the road beyond.

Ghosts are but haunting memories that refuse to die. There will be no more ghosts in my life, she thought to herself as the breeze and the crickets sang their song in the stillness of the city.

Above, the moon stayed true in the sky, and no clouds dared mar the perfection of the pinpricked darkness that it called home.

[Grayslin]

“The Swordwaltzers are gone you know... No more. The Tirisfalen have risen from their ashes and I intend to protect that banner for as long as I can... I’ll be seeing you around.”

The words echoed over and over again in her head as she rode the gryphon out of the great city of Ironforge. Each time they repeated, she saw the image of Kurohane standing behind her in silence, expression hidden by the wide-brimmed hat she wore. Sylennis had meant for the parting words to sting, but she wasn’t sure whether or not they had had the effect she had intended. In truth, she wasn’t even sure whether or not she was glad she had said them. Her feelings were more torn and confused than an ocean storm alternating between periods of raging violence and quiet calm.

One thing had become clear during their meeting however. Whatever had happened to Kurohane, either before or after Stormwind’s meddling, had changed her. She was not the same huntress Sylennis had previously looked up to and respected. Despite this, however, she still felt a strong attachment and loyalty to her former mentor; a connection of friendship that she could not easily dismiss. But now there was a sense of... Betrayal? Neglect? Abandonment? None of those words seemed right, yet at the same time, all of them did. Her connection with Kuro was still there - still strong - but... tainted somehow.

One of the first thing Sylennis had learned from Kurohane was that no one’s destiny was set in stone and that if something was important enough to you, you fought for it. She supposed the most damning part of the whole thing was that it seemed like her friend had just... given up. What had happened to transform the huntress so completely?

The whole train of thought left a bad taste in her mouth.

Regardless of her feelings toward Kurohane, however, the damage was done. The Swordwaltzers lost their leader and with that, their common thread had come crashing down around them. The oaths that they had all taken no longer had any substance, any meaning. Lost and without direction, the guild threatened to implode upon itself in a violent death.

It had seemed like there would be no saving her adopted family.

Lead by the priestess Kiraena Silverstar, who was possessed with a determination the likes of which Sylennis had never before seen, the former officers of the guild sought out a new purpose. The family would not die. From the ashes of the Swordwaltzers’ dying embers, they would forge a new banner.

For ages, the Tirisfalen had walked amongst the populace yet separate from it. They had protected the world of Azeroth from all dangers without. That is, until the corruption of the wizard Medivh and his betrayal of Azeroth to the Burning Legion. The great prophet had since returned to right his mistakes, but the damage had been done and the order was gone.

The former Swordwaltzers would re-raise the banner of the Tirisfalen. They would protect Azeroth from any danger, be it Legion or Horde.

Sylennis absentmindedly tugged at the still-new tabard that now adorned the surface of her armor. Its sleek silver and black lines flapped about in the onrush of air from the Gryphon’s wings. The sword and shield emblazoned upon the front filled her with pride. She would defend Azeroth. She would defend the Alliance. She would defend her family.

“...I intend to protect that banner for as long as I can.” Of that statement, there had been no doubt.

The Gryphon flew on toward Menethil Harbor.