Painful Memories

[Amalee]

She stood on the edge of Thunder Bluff, balancing carefully and gracefully. After he had fallen asleep earlier that night, she snuck out of the room, and returned to where everything had happened that evening, at the party.
“Tonight should have been a lot more amusing than it was,” the rogue thought to herself. All she wanted to do was have a good time, and show off to everyone that she was happy and in love; something that she had only briefly experienced before. It had taken a lot out of her to even admit her feelings; it was only fair of the world to let her enjoy it.
There had been a lot going on this evening. The uneventful night had brought many thoughts to her mind. Some pleasant, but many of her thoughts drifted to her past.
Amalee reached out into the cold open air, as if trying to grasp something in front of her that wasn’t actually there. She brought her hand down swiftly in anger, nearly losing her balance.
“Damnit Trinelle, this is all your fault!” she angrily exclaimed aloud, cutting the silence with her voice. She hadn’t really thought about him in a long time, but with all of these familiar feelings in the air… love, lust, jealousy, deceit… how could she not? Her eyes teared up, stinging her cheeks as the tears slowly streamed down them.
The breeze on the plateau picked up, blowing Amalee’s hair into her face. She slowly brushed it away and sighed.
She had never told anyone who Trinelle was. He was a part of her past she tried so long to ignore. The memories stung her fiercely as the details returned. Perhaps it was time to bring it up to Bahlmoral. After all, if Trinelle was what made her who she was, then Bahlmoral had a right to know.

[Amalee]

Trinelle was a high elf, much like Amalee. A great fighter, he trained for hours upon hours a day. It was all he could ever think of; fighting for his beloved city in what seemed to be an endless war. The honor he would bring at the cries of victory! And the prize he would become for his true love, Amalee.
Many months went by after he was called into battle. Amalee and her sister had been without her parents for nearly a year, lost to the war. She yearned for Trinelle’s return- craved his love and attention. But to no avail. Heartbroken, Amalee started seeking for comfort elsewhere.
The strange Forsaken reminded her of someone, but she couldn’t quite place who. His want to help her seemed rather unusual to her, but she felt drawn to him. As time went by, they hung out more and more. She began to feel more attached to him as the days went on.
The Undead began working for a strange organization, so she began to see less of him. Desperate not to lose him, she joined him in his plight. It was shortly after she joined him when Amalee learned the truth- this strange forsaken she had fallen for was no other than Trinelle himself. He had almost died during the war; only to be rescued just in time. She also learned then that this organization, the Royal Apothecary Society, had been the ones who saved him. Feeling indebted to R.A.S, she began doing whatever they needed done, from simply deeds, to their dirty work, and everything else in between.
Trinelle got sent away to deal with top secret experimentations, forced to do so with threats from the R.A.S. Heartbroken to watch him leave her side again, she began to hate the R.A.S. They promised her many things- gold, trinkets, and the guaranteed safety of her sister in return for her allegiance to them. The promise of immortality toyed with her mind; it was their biggest promise of all. She would be able to have an endless lifetime to search for, and be with him again!
The first sips of the serum were the worst. The bitter taste lingered in her mouth; the drip of the serum chilling her to the very core with each dose. Slowly, she began to drink more and more. The taste grew on her- she could hardly feel its chilly properties the more she drank! Unsure of what it actually was, Amalee continued to drink it. She was addicted, much like she had seen many Elves yearn for blood thistle.
A few weeks later, they told her what she had become addicted to- along with the heart-wrenching news that Trinelle was gone for good. Never stopping in the face of danger, she learned that he had been a fatality to a failed experiment.
“You got what you wanted though, fair Amalee,” Cackled the Forsaken before her. “Soon, you will have our promises of immortality that you yearned so dearly for.”
Before leaving the room, he tossed her another bottle of serum. “Sleep well,” he remarked snidely. This was the last room she would ever stand in as an Elf.


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Amalee turned from the ledge of the Elder Rise, speaking into her hearthstone.
“I can’t keep this to myself anymore; it’s plagued me for too long. He has to know,” She whispered through tears, as the crisp Mulgore air faded from her and the warmth of her room in Shattrath welcomed her home.