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IV. Reverie

• Artist: Chibeusa

While in Moonglade for the annual Lunar Festival, Sylvari fell into a deep sleep from which she could not be awakened. Mythos ventured into the Emerald Dream to rescue her, bearing witness to some of her most painful memories - the realisation Kaledas was undead, the raid on an orcish settlement that convinced her to desert the Moonshadow Sentinels, her father's death on the slopes of Mount Hyjal as Shan'do Malfurion sounded the Horn of Cenarius. Eventually, they found her in a small grove, where the last memory played over and over: a stillborn, Sylvari had been brought into the Dream by her father, to be resurrected by Q'onzu. The wild god accepted, in return for her father's life once she came of age.It all made sense now, her erratic connection to the Dream, her newfound powers. But Sylvari needed the final push in order to come to terms with her trauma and embrace her identity. Mythos was there to provide that push, reminding her there are many who care about her in the waking world, a found family who would suffer in her absence. She accepted her past, and took the first steps into a hopeful future with Q'onzu's blessing, the new tattoos on her body now marking her as one of the Loa of Change's proteges. What that would come to mean, only time would tell.Mythos went on to embark on more adventures, with Sylvari's powers now finally under her control, albeit vastly unexplored...

III. Relapse

• Artist: Narninskaya

The aftermath of the Pilgrim's death saw the awakening of strange powers within Sylvari. "Dreamwalker." He had called her that before they destroyed him, and it seemed to be a good descriptor of her new ability to shift between the planes, crossing the veil between reality and the Emerald Dream in the blink of an eye. There was no control over these powers however, no rhyme or reason to them beyond their manifestation only when the druid was under duress... With them came dreams - nightmares, really - and an incresing inability to sleep, all wearing on the druid.The world had no shortage of tasks, missions and jobs for the close-knit band of adventurers though, from Crown-sanctioned quests to requests from faraway lands. One such request came from Kalimdor, and although her exile was still in effect, her standing within Mythos afforded Sylvari the possibility to return, albeit in a limited capacity.Their journey took them to Winterspring, where a joint task force of Sentinels, Knights of the Ebon Blade and Argent Crusaders welcomed their help with fighting the Father, a lich of tremendous power hellbent on raising the dead of Kel'theril into his army. They thwarted his plans, and followed him to the Kun-Lai Summit, where Sylvari was faced with a difficult revelation. The Ebon Blade captain, Rime, was in fact Kaledas, her husband, whom she had long believed dead. Before he had time to explain, Sylvari vanished into the Dream, leaving him behind and joining Mythos in their final battle against the Father.More than a year passed, and while Sylvari accompanied Mythos on missions, even witnessing the fall of Dalaran, her health, physical and otherwise, declined significantly. Lack of sleep, poor nutrition and an erratic connection to the Emerald Dream allowed her mind to wander into the darkest places of her past until she was trapped by them...

II. Redemption

• Artist: Kueshka

As part of the Moonshadow Sentinels, Sylvari was witness and accomplice to many atrocities, eventually deserting the cadre in the aftermath of a raid on a Barrens settlement. With Mythos' help, she was instrumental in thwarting the Moonshadows' foolish plan to summon the aspect of the Night Warrior, and in bringing them to justice before the Sisterhood. For her efforts, she was exiled... a heartbreaking, but immensely preferable alternative to imprisonment. During her last night at Nordrassil she was stripped of the Night Warrrior's blessing in the waters of the Well of Eternity, her gaze no longer darkened by vengeance.She joined Mythos across the Great Sea, and on that journey learned first-hand about their struggle against the Pilgrim, an evil being whom the company had been hounded by for some time. The druid decided then to remain at their side enough to put an end to the Pilgrim's malevolence.This quest forged deep bonds between the adventurers, and saw Sylvari relinquishing her facial markings as a symbolic gesture, in the hope that she may be worthy of new ones, one day. Slowly, but surely, her soul also started to heal, joy finding its way into her heart more and more - though she still carried the guilt, deep within.Two years later, the Pilgrim, or at least his monstrously powerful avatar lay dead at Mythos' feet, their long quest at last fulfilled. The journey had brought them all together, however - created a fellowship which had no desire to disband, now held together not by a common foe, but by friendship and trust, both things Sylvari had been missing for the longest time.

I. Retribution

• Artist: Nozomi

The Burning of Teldrassil set Sylvari Windsong on a dark path - a path of hatred, violence, and retribution. Joining the the extremist organisation called the Hand of Cenarius during the Battle for Lordaeron, the young druid was plunged into the great war between the Horde and the Alliance, eventually receiving the Night Warrior's blessing on the front lines of Darkshore, the Goddess's aspect of vengeance eclipsing her sight and soul.Following the truce between the Horde and Alliance, the Hand ultimately disbanded, leaving the now battle-hardened Windsong nigh directionless. She rejoined the Sentinel army as an auxilliary, hate and the desire for revenge still raging in her heart. Eventually, she was reassigned to the Moonshadow cadre, which, unbeknownst to all and in direct conflict with their orders from High Command, still carried out unsanctioned attacks on Horde targets - military or otherwise...

Voice Claim

• Made by: DallyCloud

Reference Sheets - Current Design

• Artist: HippieDruid

Custom Patch

• Artist: HippieDruid

Sylvari's Room in the Mythos Guild Hall

• Builder: HippieDruid

Reference Sheets - Past Designs

• Artist: HippieDruid

Evolution

• Artist: HippieDruid

Art Prompts

• Artist: HippieDruid

OC Prompts

The Ties That Bind

Part I

As Sylvari sank deeper into the cold, murky water, her eyes widening and her mouth opening in a soundless shout, she could feel the air escaping her lungs. It mixed with the blood flowing freely from her, obstructing her view of her own outstretched hand. She grasped at the water and dead plants, her body affording her one last desperate attempt at salvation, but it was in vain. She was too weak.The last bubbles made their way out of her mouth, and her eyes slid closed, but she felt no pain. She could no longer feel the weight of her armor, the coldness of the water, or the wounds she had sustained. Instead, the dark leather was replaced by a white shawl; she could breathe again, she could smell flowers, and fresh grass. She heard the wind chimes that her mother kept at the entrance of their home, and as her steps carried her weightless body towards the warmth, she felt whole.

Her mother was late. After what felt like hours of sitting on the edge of Lorlathil’s central fountain and willing small vines to creep up the stones and lap at the water within, Sylvari finally took to pacing around the thing, counting her steps and looking about for the tardy sentinel.“I see age has made you even more impatient, daughter. Have I taught you nothing?”The druid sighed and turned around, mentally preparing herself for further admonishment, but not without getting in a shot of her own. “You’re late.”She did not expect to see the woman standing next to her mother, however. “Kali?” she said, her eyes widening and her mouth breaking into a huge grin.“Hey, Sylv. Sorry about that, you know how long it takes me to get ready.” The white-haired woman’s smile matched the druid’s, and she took a few steps forward to embrace her, shoulders shaking with joy and mirth all the while.Still dumbstruck, Sylvari let her childhood friend wrap her arms around her. “What- how are you here?” She pulled back, resting her hands on Kalendil’s shoulders to look up at her face, grin still plastered onto her own.“Mythralis contacted me.” She nodded her head toward Sylvari’s mother, who had the slightest hint of a smile, petting her large frostsaber companion. “I’ve been staying at the Temple here since the Legion was vanquished.”Sylvari bowed her head slightly. “I didn’t know that.” It seems her mother was better than her at keeping tabs on the old members of their grove. She felt very guilty, all of a sudden.“Hey, don’t worry. I haven’t exactly been the best at keeping in touch either. How have you been?”“Better.” Sylvari chuckled, shaking her head. “A lot better. How have you been, sister?”Kalendil’s eyes narrowed, donning a knowing smirk. “It sounds like you have much to tell me. I have been well.” She sighed. “My duties have kept me here, but my heart was with our brothers and sisters in Darkshore. This truce… it is a travesty,” she said, stepping back and looking at Mythralis as well.The older woman nodded. “It is. The High Priestess will not stand for it. I am certain of that. But onto more pressing matters.” She pulled out a folded map from one of her belt pouches. “I’ve finally found her, and with Kalendil’s help, we might actually get her this time.” She pointed to a small ‘x’ on the map.“Shala’nir. Was it not corrupted by the Nightmare?” Sylvari asked.“It was, and the druids here are still working to cleanse it. It’s what tipped me that there may be something else afoot. There have been reports of void infestation, in addition to the ever-receding Nightmare corruption. I’ve scouted the area. She is definitely there.” Mythralis started folding the map.“What are we waiting for, then?” Sylvari asked, starting in the direction of Shala’nir.Kalendil and Mythralis followed suit, the three of them heading off into the dense forest of Val’Sharah.

Part II

Kalendil huffed as she used her staff to help her navigate the forest floor. Months of being practically cloistered up at the temple had not helped her stamina, and she was out of breath after mere minutes of walking. She looked at Sylvari and Mythralis. The two did not display any signs of fatigue, they were alert and looked ready to spring into action at any time.“Long time since we were climbing trees near the grove, eh, Kali?” She heard Sylvari’s voice, followed by the druid’s usual subdued chuckle.“Shush, you,” she replied, between increasingly larger gulps of air. “It sounds like you two have been chasing this one for a while. What’s the story?”Mythralis took to answering the question. “I came across her a few months ago, in Feralas. I was sent to investigate strange happenings near Dream Bough. Although I do not know what her intent was, it was clear she was trying to do something to the dream portal. I thought I could handle her alone, but I barely escaped with my life.” She cleared her throat, and adjusted the strap holding her bow in place. “The minions of the void are slippery, so I decided I needed help. Luckily, I came across Sylvari in Feathermoon Stronghold, and enlisted her help,” she said, in a matter-of-fact voice.“Imagine my surprise when I saw dear mother – whom I’d believed dead after Teldrassil – alive and well in Feralas, asking for my help, of all people,” Sylvari said, interrupting her.“Your rudeness does you no credit, daughter. In any event, the second attempt failed as well. She slipped through our fingers, using illusions and shadow magic to trick us. I kept an ear to the ground since, and then I heard about the void manifestations in Val’Sharah.”Kalendil shuddered. “To think one of our own would be capable of such a thing. I would never have imagined it.” She frowned, and continued. “Is she Twilight’s Hammer? I thought they were all vanquished.”“We found evidence in her camp that seemed to indicate that. Or at least a powerful devotion to the Old Gods,” Sylvari replied.“Goddess. Do you think she’s trying the same thing here? Shala’nir is certainly close to the Dreamgrove.” Kalendil bit her lip, breathlessness momentarily forgotten as she pondered their enemy’s intentions.“It’s highly likely, yes,” Sylvari said.“I believe you will be the key to defeating her this time, Kalendil. A minion of the Old Gods is surely no match for the Goddess’ light.”Kalendil exchanged a look with Sylvari. Some things never change, it seems, and the old sentinel’s faith was one of them.

It was nighttime by the time they reached Shala’nir, and even later still when they finally pinpointed the void user’s location. Sylvari scouted the enemy from above, her dark owl form much more suited to blend in. The cultist had reinforcements this time, in the form of three burly orcs, bearing the insignia of the Twilight’s Hammer.Their plan formulated, and prayers to the Goddess said, the three elves got into position, ready to leap into action at Mythralis’ signal, a blessed arrow aimed at the twilight priestess’ head.Or at least that was the intended course of action. Kalendil cringed as the massive twig snapped under her foot, meters away from her desired vantage point on the little cliff above the enemy camp, also overlooking a large lake. She froze, and waited for the cultists’ reaction.“You there, see what that was.” The order came from the elven cultist, momentarily distracted from her incessant chanting over the dilapidated altar in the center of their camp.The orc closest to Kalendil obeyed, and started towards her. Kalendil made herself as small as possible, hoping the ruined wall she had managed to duck behind would provide enough cover, peeking through a crack in it to see what was happening. Was Mythralis still going to take the shot?As if on cue, a glowing arrow flew from the opposite side of the encampment, headed straight for the shadow priestess’ head. It was diverted at the last moment by a lash of her hand, which almost looked like a tentacle in the rush of movement.The cultists exploded into action. The void priestess was suddenly engulfed by a shadowy aura, and the two remaining orcs picked up their massive axes, the one headed for Kalendil turning around to face the camp once more. He did not have a chance to react to the situation further, as a massive nightsaber leapt from the top of the wall Kalendil was hiding behind and tackled him to the ground, fangs immediately at his throat. He died quickly. As the nightsaber shifted to take the form of her green-haired friend, roots sprouted from the ground under the closest orc, effectively pinning him in place. Sylvari started summoning an orb of emerald magic, no doubt planning to deliver it onto the immobilized target.Meanwhile, the third remaining orc yelped in pain, as Mythralis’ massive frostsaber charged out from the bushes on that side of the camp and rammed full-speed into him. Although half his size, the saber’s strength matched his own, toppling him. The orc managed to get the handle of his axe between them, using it to stave off the saber’s sharp fangs. Kalendil emerged from her hiding spot and called on Elune’s power to aid the frostsaber, and its next chomp tore through the wood, its fangs finally finding their way to the orc’s head, crushing it in one gory bite.Another glowing arrow flew towards the shadow priestess, this time sizzling into a cloud of smoke as it met her void shield. Mythralis finally left her hiding spot, and readied another one, just as Sylvari’s spell hit the third orc square in the chest.What happened next was entirely unexpected, however. Instead of slumping to the ground, its body a smoking pile of flesh, the orc took the brunt of it, a fresh gaping hole in the middle of his chest, his skin dappled with spots of void energy. The hole started to fill, shadowy tendrils slithering out from its smoking edges to meet in the middle. The orc grunted, his voice tinged with an eerie echo, and grew in size, almost a head taller than previously. Void tentacles sprouted from his back, and his legs tore through the roots holding them in place. A void behemoth now stood between Sylvari and the shadow priestess, the way blocked.Watching the druid taking a step back, Kalendil’s eyes widened, her lips all the while forming the words for a prayer to the Goddess. The result of this encounter was entirely in Her hands now.

Part III

Mythralis took aim. She barely had time to register the growing monstrosity barring her daughter’s path as she released another blessed arrow. Like the one before it, this one sizzled and disintegrated upon hitting the shadow priestess’ shield. It was pointless, and the archer quickly readjusted her target, this time aiming for the void behemoth’s head. The bow let loose another arrow, and the monster stumbled to the side, the projectile sticking out of its ear. It recovered almost instantly however, and planted its feet, letting out a loud, hollow-sounding roar in Sylvari’s direction, apparently unfazed.A quick look confirmed Mythralis’ thoughts: the twilight priestess was controlling the thing, her attention solely focused on it. The shield was still up, and she must have realized Kalendil was the only real threat among them. The old sentinel let panic seep into her thoughts for a moment. Sylvari was standing right in front of Kalendil, and she was already summoning more roots to keep the giant at bay. She wouldn’t stand a chance in close quarters, nearly half the size of her opponent.“Shal’nor! Attack!” she shouted to her frostsaber companion, the large cat still awash with Elune’s protective light. He charged at the behemoth, and Mythralis released an arrow at its leg, trying to slow it down. The arrow struck, and the creature fell to one knee, its arm flying out to hit the saber in the side, knocking it a few meters away. Shal’nor stayed down, the glowing white shield flickering out.The small setback provided the two younger elves time to regroup, and Sylvari and Kalendil both started summoning Elune’s light. She heard her daughter’s voice, “Keep him down!” and she obliged, drawing two more arrows from her quiver. Years of marksmanship experience showed, the first shot landing in just the right spot to pin two of Sylvari’s more gnarled roots together, trapping the behemoth’s foot in a vice grip. It would not last, she thought, and the second arrow flew at its hand, preventing it from ripping the tightening vines apart, if only for a little while.The extra seconds were all that the druid and priestess needed, and as the giant tore through its bindings, two beams of moonlight materialized above it, the two elves’ spells weaving together to form a mighty, luminescent spear.Mythralis’ heart stuck in her throat as she watched the behemoth charge at Sylvari while as the beam of moonlight was coming down upon it. Her daughter was flung over the cliff, disappearing from view, and the monster let out a mighty roar, finally falling down to the ground into a charred lump.“Sylvari!” was all the reaction she was afforded. Suddenly, she was surrounded by dozens of voidling minions, crawling towards her. She reached for her quiver. Panic engulfed her entirely when her hand grabbed nothing but air. No, no, no, there should have been one more, she never lost count. They were closing in, one finally reaching her and throwing itself at her. She pushed it back with her bow, roaring and stepping back. There was nowhere to retreat, they had her surrounded and her foot touched one of them, the creature immediately starting to wrap its void tendrils around her leg.Then, as suddenly as it had started, it was over. The creatures were gone, and she heard Kalendil shouting at her. “It’s an illusion! Kill her!”She regained her bearings and finally drew the last blessed arrow in her quiver, aiming it at the wretched cultist. Elune’s light destroyed her void shield, and the arrow was released before Kalendil had time to give her the signal. “Now!” she heard the woman say, just as the shadow priestess’ forehead was pierced by the glowing projectile.It was finally over, and Mythralis looked around for her daughter. She was nowhere to be seen. Fright gripped her heart again when she realized that had not been part of the illusion. She threw her bow to the side and ran for the cliff, plunging into the murky water below.

The lake was deeper than she anticipated, the water darker, congested with dead vegetation and mud. Mythralis swam blindly, her visibility reduced to only a meter or so in front of her. Please, please, let me find her, she prayed to the Goddess.She was heard, thankfully, and her hand finally grasped Sylvari’s cooling one. A second later, she had her, and she started swimming to the surface. She could not think about the fact that her daughter might be dead, she needed to get her to safety.They finally broke the surface, and Mythralis swam to shore. Kalendil was already there, hands outstretched to help pull the druid out of the water. Mythralis followed suit, and she knelt next to her motionless body. She looked pale, her mouth agape and her eyes half lidded. “No, no, no, Goddess. Sylvari!” She slapped her face, trying to get a reaction, but she was rewarded with none.“Mythralis. Stop,” she heard Kalendil say, and she did, leaning back, trembling.The priestess knelt by her daughter, and her hands were on her head and chest in an instant, Elune’s light engulfing them and the druid’s body. Nothing happened for the longest time, and Mythralis thought she must have forgotten to breathe herself, her throat constricting while watching for any signs of life. She prayed to the Goddess.

Part IV

She felt the light before she could see it. It came from far away, but it was getting closer, warmer and brighter. She turned her weightless body towards it, letting go of the soft hand she was holding, fingers brushing against cold knuckles as she went. She tried to shield her eyes, the light getting more intense by the second, but her arms were numb. The light enveloped everything now, but her body was getting colder. She felt herself choking on something.Sylvari spluttered out the water in her lungs, feeling it fill her mouth and nose as she did. She tried to sit up, but did not seem to be able to muster the strength for it, settling instead for opening her eyes.She did not get to see much before she was hoisted up into someone’s arms. “Oh, thank the Goddess. You’re alive,” she heard her mother say, and moments later felt her kiss her face, cradling it in her hands. She returned the embrace, and closed her eyes again.

Sylvari sighed as the tea warmed her insides, snuggled up in a corner of Lorlathil’s inn, Shal’nor sleeping at her feet, warming them as well.“I must say, you did get us quite worried then,” Kalendil said, slicing an apple for herself.The druid shrugged. “I wish I could say this was an uncommon occurrence, Kali. But these past few years I’ve brushed elbows with death more times than I should have, I fear.”Her friend frowned. “It sounds like this… Hand of Cenarius doesn’t do a very good job of protecting its own,” she said, eating a slice of the apple.“They do… in a way. Sometimes I think we’re among the last to remember Teldrassil, and the atrocities of the Horde,” Sylvari said.“Is it that bad? Have our people forgotten so easily?”“There are not many of us left to remember, Kali.”“I suppose you’re right.” Her friend’s ears drooped, and she tilted her head. “I missed you, Sylv.”“I missed you too.” She looked up at her mother, arriving with a plate of food. “The Lunar Festival is coming up. I would love it if we could meet in Moonglade. If you have the time.”Mythralis sat down, sighing. “I… will try.”“Hm. I’ll try to make it as well, Sylv. It will be nice to see you again. And I have not attended it in what feels like forever,” Kalendil said.“It’s a plan then.” Sylvari said, and started filling her belly, a content smile on her face.

• Back

Homecoming

The only sound Sylvari could hear was the irregular drip of the orcish blood falling from her fingers to the forest floor. Clasped in her other hand were her prayer beads, old, worn and until recently adorning her neck, before the mangled orc at her feet had unceremoniously tugged them off in her death throes.She wiped her gore-covered mouth with her hand, effectively smearing even more blood across her face. The green-haired druid did not seem to notice, though, eyes transfixed on the beads in her hand, as her mind started to replay events of centuries past.The young night elf found herself falling forward as the massive nightsaber pounced on her from behind. Albeit late, instincts kicked in and she thrashed violently, trying to get the attacker off before attempting to strike back. Next thing she knew, though, coarse fur was replaced by warm skin and soft white, cascading hair. She stopped her protests and relaxed her body, rolling her eyes.“An appalling performance, Sentinel Windsong. All that training, and a novice druid can incapacitate you so easily,” a mirthful voice spoke from behind her ear.“Get off me! All that training and you would assume your teachers would impart some much-needed wisdom, as well!” Her words were slightly muffled by the grass, but she soon heard a hearty laugh erupt from her assailant, before he removed his weight from on top of her.Sylvari turned around and took the hand he’d offered to help her rise. As soon as she was on her feet, though, he tugged her close in a tight embrace.“I have missed you so much, dalah’surfal.” His breath tickled her ear as she pulled him even closer, her eyes squeezed shut to stop the tears of joy from escaping.“Kal, I-“ Sylvari pulled back to cradle his face in her hands, smiling. “I did not think I would see you for another year. How are you here?”“I’m accompanying the Keeper on a trip to several groves. I had to beg him to take me along once I heard our home was among them. We do not have long, we’re only stopping for a few days.”“Then let us cherish them,” she said, and stood on her tip-toes to press their lips together, hands now playing with the prayer beads around his neck.An ugly grimace made its way onto her tear-streaked face as Sylvari’s eyes focused on the corpse in front of her. The orc was wearing furs and leathers, quite fresh by the smell of them. A crude bow lay broken next to her mangled body. A hunter, by the looks of her. Alone? Perhaps not. She was not carrying any large satchels, so her camp must have been close. And orcs did not venture this far into Ashenvale on their own, war or not. As her golden eyes followed the obvious trail left behind by the hunter, Sylvari’s brows furrowed even closer together. She knew what one might find in that direction, and judging by the presence of the prayer beads, it was the logical deduction.Suddenly, after what felt like ages of inaction, Sylvari clasped the prayer beads behind her neck, and headed down a path she had not walked in decades...

Even after years away from her home, Sylvari still knew every nook and cranny in the vicinity of her grove. As she drew closer, however, the signs of deforestation and defilement grew more and more evident. The druid’s golden eyes, the only thing visible in the pitch black of the night, narrowed. This would be the first time she would return to her birthplace since leaving for her druidic training all those years ago.The druid fidgeted with the beads around her neck as she allowed herself to get lost in thought, her feet carrying her toward her former dwelling.She was on the verge of giving up for the night. For a week, she had been trying to get the roots to sprout out of the plant pot she held in her hands, and to no avail. Sylvari was growing more and more frustrated with herself, even as her shan’do’s words flitted through her mind. ‘It takes months, years, to master the druidic arts, Windsong. You will not be the first to do it in a few weeks.’ She didn’t have years, though. While the older druids had no time constraint looming over their heads, the immortality provided by Nordrassil offering them an eternity to master their craft, for her and the new generation of students that was a luxury they could not afford. She still had centuries ahead of her, but the Kaldorei were now mortal. In time, she would wither away and die, and she did not want that to happen before exploring all of Azeroth had to offer.“Sylvari.” Her thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice. As she turned, the stern face of her mother greeted her. While it was no surprise to see the disappointed expression on her features, this time, something seemed off.“Mother. I was not expecting you.” Sylvari stood and started patting down her novice robes.“No,” her mother gestured for her to sit back down. “Don’t get up.” She unclasped her travel cloak from around her well-built frame. Her armour was damaged, and traces of blood and soot covered it.Sylvari felt the blood drain from her own features. She waited for her mother to speak.“The grove was attacked. Orc raid in the middle of the day. Only a few of us made it…” The rest of the words were drowned out by the sudden ringing in the young druid’s ears.Sylvari’s hands found their way into her hair, her head bowed down as her brain tried in vain to process the terrible information. Suddenly, she looked up.“What about Kaledas?”Her mother stopped speaking for an excruciating few seconds. Then, she spoke again, her features softening minutely. “I’m sorry.”Years later, Sylvari would reflect on the irony of the situation, that her mother would be the one to deliver her that awful news, when only months before that, their positions had been reversed. She shook the dire thought out of her head. Memories of her father were the last thing she wanted to conjure up now, lest she fail her mission before she even started it.She assumed her owl form when she reached the perimeter, and flew up into the canopy, to survey the surroundings and scout the enemy. She should have been prepared for the sudden shock of seeing her once beautiful home simply… gone. All that remained were rotting tree stumps and the trampled traces of the formerly intricate paths that connected the dwellings of the grove. The houses were gone, they’d even taken the very stones that had made up the grove’s small moonwell.She tried to swallow the knot that had formed in her throat and to push down the feeling of helpless pain. Her eyes easily found the only source of light in the clearing: a campfire. An orc was sleeping with his back to it. Scanning the area, she detected another of the creatures, keeping watch while the other slept, no doubt. They seemed to be the only ones in the vicinity, the Horde having long since finished stripping the area of everything they needed. The sorrow was soon replaced by cold, calculated rage. It was time to make them pay, one orc at a time.

A distant crack startled the orc keeping watch over the hunting camp. Picking up his axe, he stood up, beady eyes trying to pierce the darkness before him. After a minute of fruitless searching, he shrugged and made to sit down again.Another, even louder crack sounded in the woods. This time, the hulking creature grabbed hold of the axe with both hands, and started walking towards the mysterious sound. Sparing a glance behind him to check on his slumbering companion, he soon disappeared into the dark forest.As the sound of disturbed foliage grew more and more silent, the orc making his way deeper into the trees, roots started sprouting from the earth around the sleeping orc. They positioned themselves around his limbs, and sprang into action all at once. They held him down as another, thicker root found its way into the creature’s mouth and down his throat, effectively preventing any call for help while it tore him apart from the inside. Once the violent convulsions stopped, the bloodied roots retreated back into the ground, as silent as they emerged, the only sound in the glade being the crackling of the firewood and the wind softly rustling the tops of the canopy above.“Damn critters and damn twigs. Damn creepy forest,” the disgruntled voice of the axe wielder sounded in the clearing. “Brik? Brik! Wake up you milksop. Nap’s over!” He walked over to the limp figure, and prodded it with the pommel of his axe. His companion’s head lolled to the side, his face a bloody, unrecognisable mess.Panic immediately filled the orc’s face, but before he could react, a large nightsaber was upon him, claws digging into his shoulders and jaws attempting to bite his neck open. The big orc roared in pain and flailed around, trying to get the saber off of his back. His efforts were rewarded in the end, the cat sliding off, but not without rending his flesh in the process.They circled each other now, narrowed black eyes meeting keen glowing ones. The nightsaber pounced first, charging at the orc and leaping at him, meeting only the handle of his axe before being thrown back. The blade soon followed, missing the saber’s neck by inches, only managing to cut a deep slash into the druidic symbol on its shoulder.The saber growled, jumping backwards to clear some space between herself and her opponent, before closing the distance again, this time going low, starting to swipe and snap at her enemy’s ankles. The axe kept swinging and narrowly missing, the orc visibly and audibly getting more and more irritated. She slowly backed away with each move she made, leading the hulking beast to one of the larger stumps in the clearing.With one final mighty swing, the axe planted itself firmly into the wood. The orc tried in vain to dislodge it, but to no avail. The saber was immediately upon him, and mere moments later, the fight was over.

Sylvari shifted back into her elven form, and stood up from on top of the dead orc. The blood she got on her muzzle as a saber was still there after shapeshifting, making her face a gruesome sight covered in blood and gore. She spat and wiped her mouth with a cloth from her satchel, and took a moment to calm down and observe her surroundings.The fire light cast long, flickering shadows on the ground and tree stumps around, bathing the glade in an eerie glow, complementing the atmosphere perfectly. Even the orcs’ best efforts could not fell the largest and most ancient of the trees around the former grove, whose canopies still managed to conceal most of the sky. Through the distant branches, however, only clouds could be seen, the Moon and stars remaining hidden. Oddly fitting, the druid thought, as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.Her feet started carrying her to one of the largest of the massive trees, her hand caressing its bark upon reaching it. She circled it, and sat down between its great roots, letting herself be enveloped in the memories invoked by that particular place.It was a beautiful night. Elune’s light shone through the small openings in the canopy, creating brilliant beams shining throughout the trees. The only sounds were the distant rushing of the nearby stream, the gentle wind brushing the leaves, and a few nighthawks trilling their songs in the branches above.Strong arms encircled her frame as she leaned back into her lover’s embrace, the both of them tucked and hidden between the roots of the enormous tree. It had been a lovely few years, even in the aftermath of the battle of Hyjal, and this time, it would be her leaving tomorrow. She tried to enjoy it while she could, her eyes lightly shut as she played with Kaledas’ hair. She couldn’t help herself from asking again, though.“Are you sure you can’t come with me to Moonglade? You could help me with my training, perhaps even further your own studies.” She craned her neck to look at him, a pleading look in her eyes.“I am needed here for the moment, unfortunately. I will join you soon enough, in only a few months. Nothing will keep me apart from you longer than that.” He grinned, his hand caressing the markings on her face.She sighed, but fell silent again, her fingers entwining with his as they enjoyed the peaceful night. Before long, though, Kaledas turned her to face him, a timid expression gracing his normally confident features. Sylvari caught his eyes, one eyebrow quirked in amusement at his antics.“Is something the matter, Kal?”“Will-“ He cleared his throat. “Sylv, when we are reunited in a few months… I wish for this to be the last time we are ever separated.”“That is my wish as well. And it will be.” She smiled, hands clasping behind his neck and trying to pull him closer.He resisted the tug. “What I meant was… I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and only you. I love you. And I always will.”Tears welled in Sylvari’s eyes and a laugh escaped her mouth. The implication was there, in his unspoken words, in the way he held her gaze. She understood. “And I love you, dalah’surfal. I always will.”

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Memory, Indelible

Chapter I - The Sleeping Druid

While checking on Sylvari in her quarters at the Nighthaven inn, Luynaraeth found her unable to be awakened. The older druid, finding the veil between reality and the Dream thinner in Sylvari's presence, meditated and entered the Dream.

She found herself in a labyrinth, navigating it to eventually find Sylvari just about to enter a portal into a deeper part of the Dream. She was unable to stop her, and in the process, the Seed of Nightmare lodged within her soul splintered, causing a Nightmare infection that spread throughout the labyrinth. She was attacked by corrupted lashers and unable to return to Azeroth.

Sulfar's spectral sight alerted him to Luynaraeth's condition, and with the help of Rose and Talias, they managed to pull her out of the Dream. All of Mythos was aware of the disturbance.

Chapter II - Across the Veil

Barely an hour after Luynaraeth regained her senses, she pulled Mythos out of Nighthaven to explain what happened. Sylvari was still unresponsive, sleeping peacefully upon first glance. Once out of town, Luynaraeth explained Sylvari's condition: she was lost within a deep part of the Dream, and Luynaraeth had inadvertently corrupted the area due to the Nightmare seed in her soul reacting to the Dream. As such, Mythos would need to follow Sylvari into the Dream, before she was lost forever. The only piece of the puzzle left unsolved was En, and Sulfar struck a blood bargain with him to help them in their quest, and prevent him from betraying them.

The party travelled through the Dream portal in Moonglade, and reached the Grove of Remembrance, whose Keeper informed them of the Nightmare corruption infesting a labyrinth called the Forgotten Paths. None of the Dream denizens had seen Sylvari, but given she was last seen in a labyrinth, it was a safe assumption that helping the keepers and dryads with their emergency would also lead them to Sylvari.

The grove denizens need a little time to untangle the Nightmare brambles that bar the way into the maze, and Mythos have some time to rest after the transition between realms and adjust to the Dream. Judging by the fact the Keeper told them it had been days since the corruption took hold, as opposed to a mere few hours on Azeroth, they would not have to worry about Sylvari's physical body, at least.

Chapter III - Echoes

The Keeper and the grove tenders finally managed to clear the way into the Nightmare-corrupted labyrinth, the Forgotten Paths as they call it. Mythos made their way inside, the Keeper's words fresh in their minds: “The Forgotten Paths are ancient, older than anyone can remember. Some say this place has been here since the Dreaming began. After all, what are dreams but a reflection of memory…”

They did not walk for long until they found a mischievous little grell, who led them into a part of the maze that contained apparitions of Luynaraeth's daughter, Ne'valas, each accusing her mother of various misdeeds. The grell told them to choose the "real" Ne'valas, and it would let them advance further into the Paths. Meanwhile, the party was assaulted by vicious whispers of the Nightmare, causing terrible headaches and doubt to sprout within their hearts. In the end, the real one turned out to be the grell itself, "Little Grell" being a nickname Luynaraeth used to call her daughter. It lamented the fact it was not her mother who unravelled the mystery, but in the end winked mischievously at her and opened the way forward before dissipating into nothingness.

The Keeper's words were recalled once again: “T’was a druid that first discovered the Forgotten Paths - a servant of the Balance who stumbled into the winding labyrinth on one of his forays into the Dream, and it was that druid who first witnessed their strange quality. For you see, this is no mere maze. The Paths draw out their walkers’ memories, be they happy or distressing, and help them relive nigh-forgotten moments of their lives. A blessing and a curse, as I am sure you can imagine…”The labyrinth led the group to their next challenge - a group of phantasmal satyrs, led by an echo of a long-vanquished foe of Luynaraeth's: Xhostes. Before he could utter too many poisoned words, Sulfar attacked with a powerful display of chaos magic - Xhostes however, was not the one to fall, having swapped his body for another satyr's at the last moment.

All around Mythos, countless translucent satyrs burst forth from the shadows all around, attacking them, while Xhostes gloated and mocked Mythos, pretending to be sad they did not get to hear the riddles he had prepared for them. He started to tell them nonetheless, mockingly providing the answers himself while the party were thrown into combat.

The battle with the phantasmal satyrs was exhausting, the memory of Xhostes summoning more and more waves of weak enemies to combat Mythos. All the while, he gloated from atop a platform overlooking the battlefield, answering his own riddles and tormenting Luynaraeth with malicious mentions of past mistakes, shouting for all to hear how she murdered Ashen druids in the past, and how the Nightmare seed in her soul was his final gift to her before she killed him.

The group fought hard against the translucent satyrs, each of them dissipating into smoke after a single blow, drifting back to join the Nightmare fog that enveloped the labyrinth. Terrible whispers haunted the adventurers' minds, sapping their will at the same time as the droves of satyrs tested their endurance. Talias almost succumbed to the mental corruption, lashing out against their allies only to be brought back from the brink of insanity at the last moment.

Eventually, Alissera used her magically-enhanced strength to topple the platform Xhostes was stood on, forcing him to materialise behind Luynaraeth, who, in a Nightmare-fuelled rage, stabbed him, putting an end to the torment this section of Forgotten Paths had conjured up for her and her companions. Sulfar's chaotic eye beam obliterated any trace of his essence, along with the fleshy barrier standing between them and the heart of the labyrinth.

The way forward was clear, and the portal Sylvari had gone through stood before them.

Chapter IV - Incarnation

The group entered the heart of the labyrinth and approached the barrier protecting the verdant portal against the Nightmare's corruption, Luynaraeth in the lead. As she got close to the portal though, the Nightmare seed implanted in her soul finally bloomed. In the throes of agony, Luynaraeth raised a great wall of thorny brambles around her before the seed erupted out of her in the most literal sense. It grew to such proportions that her body could no longer contain it, a ball of putrid flesh bursting forth from the druid’s chest with a sickening crunch, mangling it. The ball hovered for a moment in front of her before it expanded, soon turning into a massive Nightmare bear - a physical manifestation of the corruption inside Luynaraeth's soul.

As the druid struggled to hold her own against the bear, Mythos had to contend with apparitions conjured by the Nightmare, uncanny imitations of various wildlife - sabers, boars and owls - attacking them. By the time they managed to dispatch them and carve an opening through the bramble wall to get to Luynaraeth, she had regained her resolve and was staunchly fighting the Seed of the Nightmare. The Goddess had heard her pleas at last, and extended Her warm light to Her daughter, a light most effective at burning away the crimson corruption.Mythos gathered their power for one last assault on the weakened bear, and Luynaraeth delivered the final blow, plunging her claws (glowing with Elune's blessing) into the creature's belly. The cleansing light enveloped the bear, causing it to explode and leave behind a purified seed - an orb of light that made its way into Luynaraeth's mangled chest, mending her body and soul alike. A vision of the overlapping Twin Bears appeared above and around her, and the vermillion faded from her good eye, returning to a natural gold. Having braved the spectres of her past and defeated the corruption inside of her, Luynaraeth was cleansed, now an incarnation of Ursol and Ursoc.

The Nightmare receded almost instantly from the Forgotten Paths, scarlet darkness replaced by brilliant vibrance. They had done it.

Chapter V - A Memory of Ice

The Dream was restored to its natural verdancy, and the portal Sylvari had taken stood in front of the adventurers, ready for them to step through. There was no time to waste, and as the group entered the emerald waygate, the Keeper's words echoed in their memory once more. "The mysteries of the Paths are countless, but one thing is certain. Your friend treads a winding path of memory, one on which she has a lead on her pursuers—you. Should you hope to reach her, I fear you must also walk where she’s walked, see what she’s seen. Take caution. The quest before you is fraught with peril, even should you cleanse this scarlet taint.”

A memory of Kun-Lai's mountains awaited on the other side, a snowy valley littered with Mogu ruins. It was uncanny, though, for beyond the peaks, the Dream stretched on, its massive green trees surrounding the vale, like it was a diorama plucked from reality and deposited into the verdant realm. A trail of footprints, undoubtedly Sylvari's, led the way forward.

A bramble barrier blocked their path, one half overgrown, one half decayed - two statues stood on each side, extending empty bowls, and a voice echoed on the wind, telling them to restore the balance. Two closed-off tombs stood on either side of the valley, with doors of elven design. Mythos split up to step through both.

Alissera, Luynaraeth, Zuril, Rose and Kalious found themselves in a diorama of Ashenvale, witnessing a memory from Sylvari's past. The druid was younger, with freshly-earned facial tattoos. An elven man was with her, white-haired and bearing the same prayer beads as present Sylvari does. They witnessed their first kiss before the figures faded and left the rosary behind, the beads shining and brand-new.

Nor'andir, Sulfar, Revriine, Talias, Violet and En stepped into a building in Moonglade, where they saw a memory of Sylvari's mother delivering a set of prayer beads to her - bloody and charred. Their village had been raided by Warsong orcs, and a man named Kaledas had seemingly died. Sylvari screamed in pain before the memory faded, leaving behind the rosary, the beads dirty and damaged.

Both groups returned to the barrier and placed the rosaries in opposing bowls, restoring the balance and clearing the way forward. Another memory unfolded before them - this time more recent, of the time when Sylvari left Mythos for a short time to help search for the survivors of the crashed airship in Kun-Lai. A skirmish had taken place against the Scourge, and in the aftermath, Rime, the death knight who had aided them in Winterspring, was revealed to be Kaledas, Sylvari's long-dead husband. The druid could not accept the revelation, and had Dreamwalked away. The memory faded, leaving the trail of footprints, leading them into the teal fog, further into the Dream.

Chapter VI - A Memory of Fire

The trail led Mythos further into the Emerald Dream, and as they walked, surrounded by inscrutable fog, time seemed to stretch on forever, until they could not tell whether mere hours or days had passed...With fatigue wearing down on them, they eventually reached another memory, similar in construction to the first. The towering trees and turquoise skies of the Dreaming surrounded the diorama of a Warsong settlement in the Barrens. It was under attack, smoke rising from within the canyon in which it was located. Mythos approached to find bodies of orcs and sentinels littering the path into the orcish town. Alissera, Sulfar and Nor'andir remembered Sylvari telling them about this event, when she first met them. It was a raid conducted by the Moonshadow Sentinels on a Horde town, a massacre that led to Sylvari's desertion, and subsequent exile following her involvement.

As they pressed on, they passed by various moments frozen in time - snippets of skirmishes that, as Talias theorised, Sylvari had probably caught glimpses of while advancing through the town. Moonshadows outnumbering the orcs, killing warriors and civilians alike, lifelike statues stuck mid-combat, mid-fleeing.

In the end, they reached an animated memory, in which Sylvari prevented a trio of Moonshadows from murdering an orc woman and several children. It seems that in the past, she had fought these fellow Sentinels and either won or managed to get away - perhaps right before she deserted the cadre and reported them to High Command.

The version the Dream presented them with, however, put Mythos face to face with Sylvari's old comrades while the memory of her dissipated. They burst into flames, turning into avatars of Vengeance for Teldrassil. The group dispatched them, only for the remainder of their flames to feed a more powerful avatar, a personification of Sylvari's vendetta, fuelled further by the death of her husband at the hands of the Warsong. As Mythos defeated this enemy as well, it exploded, causing them to put up rushed barriers against the flames.

Kalious alone pressed on, fuelled by a barbarian rage and warded by his runic magic. Once the flames settled, it was Jarrek who calmed the rampaging giant of a man by handing him his sword. Mythos was treated to a glimpse of what simmers under Kalious's stoic exterior.

They pressed on through the fog once more, until they reached a memory of the Grove of Aessina, at Mount Hyjal. There, they caught the remnants of another flashback - the first time Sylvari had met with Mythos, asking for their help against the threat of the Moonshadows.

The footprint trail ended here though, and while Mythos figured out their next course of action, they were free to take a bit of a breather, the strange way in which the Dream affected the flow of time taking its toll on them.

Chapter VII - A Memory of Death

As they rested in Aessina's peaceful grove, Mythos fell into a deep slumber, their minds experiencing a shared dream - another memory, this time of the Battle of Mount Hyjal. This time, however, they were part of the memory, playing the role of Sentinels fighting the invading Legion in one of the many passes leading to Nordrassil - they were still in full control of their abilities however, free to unleash them upon the demons.

They arrived at a pivotal moment in the battle, as much needed reinforcements as the last defenders of the pass readied themselves for a last stand. Sylvari was there, fighting alongside her father Al'theas, and Luynaraeth's father Rae'llan. It seemed the two men were close friends, both druids of the claw reminiscent of Ursol and Ursoc.

Against them stood a massive army of demons, led by the archdemon Zerathul and his lieutenant, the pit lord Razgore. The sight of the two Legion leaders provoked reactions from the members of Mythos. Sulfar instantly recognised Zerathul as the fel lord the Black Rook spirits inhabiting his sword commanded him to kill, no matter what. Zuril recognised Razgore as the pit lord who had murdered his sister - a story he would definitely need to reveal to his companions in due time. Nevertheless, he recklessly charged at the pit lord only to be easily rebuked.

Even as memories, the demon lords were not to be trifled with. A lesson Rose learned the hard way as well; his summoning of Xu'en's spirit served only to push back the Legion's infernals for a short time, and only lowered Zerathul's shield. Indeed, the rest of the group fared no better against these foes, each and every one of Mythos either subdued or forced to retreat by the time the memory reached its climax.

Zerathul, irritated by how long the battle was taking, used his magic to target the combatants closest to the front lines, one of which happened to be Sylvari. In an act of heroism, her father took the spell meant for her, giving up his life to save her. Distressed, Sylvari was pulled away from her father's body by Rae'llan, who had sounded the retreat.

All seemed lost, the demons gaining ground on the retreating Kaldorei forces, until Al'theas breathed his final breath at last - with it, and his sacrifice, he embodied the strength and bravery of Ursoc, and his spirit became a mighty incarnation of one of the Twin Bears as it left his body. A massive glowing bear put a stop to the advancing demon army, giving the Sentinels the necessary time to escape.

Mere moments later, Malfurion Stormrage sounded the Horn of Cenarius elsewhere in Hyjal, summoning the elves' ancestors from their slumber. Thousands of wisps arose from the forests around them, flying toward Nordrassil above. Zerathul looked up and pulled his army back, disappearing through a portal. For Mythos, the memory faded, their vision going dark once more.

Chapter VIII - A Memory of Life

Mythos awoke from their dream in a peaceful grove, where they found Sylvari, the real Sylvari, standing upon a small island in the middle of a pond. She did not notice them, instead transfixed by something in the distance. When Mythos made their way closer, another memory started playing.

Sylvari's father, Al'theas, long ago carried a stillborn Sylvari to the very place they found themselves right now. Accompanied by his friend Rae'llan, Luynaraeth's father, he had brought his daughter into the Dream to find a way to resurrect her. He called to a being called Vorath Elyr, the "Changing One", in Darnassian. Q'onzu appeared, and made a deal with Al'theas - he would give the remainder of his days to his daughter, only getting to see her come of age, his life forfeit the moment she would become a full-fledged adult, something that Mythos had already seen come to pass. The memory faded, but Q'onzu remained perched on one of the roots encircling the island, waiting for Sylvari to make a choice.

Sylvari turned to Mythos, and it was clear she was not herself, caught between the waking world and the Dream. She acknowledged them, almost as if sleepwalking. She needed help coming to terms with the memories they had all seen. Firstly, the grove around them was filled with the snows and ruins of Kun-Lai, and the skies above turned dark - Mythos helped the druid understand that Kaledas, now a death knight, was no longer the person she loved long ago, but that his essence, his identity, remained, and she should treasure the memories she had made before.

Secondly, the grove shifted to the dry earth of the Barrens, and the fires of the Warsong town - Mythos helped Sylvari let go of her vengeance, allowing her to understand that one should not be defined by their hatred.

Finally, a scene of the Battle of Mount Hyjal, trees burning with felfire - Sylvari came to terms with her father's death, understanding it was not her fault, and that letting go will not mean dishonouring his memory.

As the Dream shifted back to its original appearance, Sylvari finally asked Mythos the question that had kept her trapped in this realm - if she was never meant to be, should she not exist at all? By now, she was more aware, more present, looking more like herself. Mythos showed their support for her, convinced her that life is worth living, especially at their side. Sylvari made her choice, rejecting Q'onzu's unspoken offer. Through her choice, the powers within her awakened fully, tattoos appearing on her upper body, similar to the ones on Q'onzu's wings. The wild god winked and departed.In-game DM emote:
Sylvari listened to everyone speak, her friends - her found family - guiding her towards the path that would shape the rest of her destiny. As her azure gaze passed over each of them, her heart ached. How could she even think of leaving this behind? Alissera’s warm embrace. Nor’andir’s silly grin. Sulfar’s unspoken protection. She thought of Valodriel’s mountain of knowledge, Talias’ wise cracks, Rose’s unwavering loyalty and the affectionate looks Luynaraeth shoots people when she thinks no one is watching. She remembered Gideon’s selfless kindness, Revriine’s loud hoofbeats and Willow’s perfectly timed swearing. The feel of Violet’s hand in her own and Zuril’s reluctant smile when a joke is made at his expense. Her eyes lingered on the ones with whom she’d yet to make memories - Jarrek, En, Kalious - who had nonetheless braved an unknown realm to come to her aid. No, any other choice was inconceivable, she knew that now. Thus, she turns to Vorath Elyr. “I’ve made my decision,” she says, and steps back slightly, closer to her companions. The wild god laughs, a clear and bright noise. “Good choice, Sylvari Windsong!” the changing one says, and winks at her. A strange thing happens then. The azure markings adorning the ground shift and swirl, motes of magic breaking off and floating towards the Dreamwalker until a whirlwind envelops her and her feet are lifted off the ground. The motes cling to her skin, forming a pattern on her arms and torso and face, a pattern only discernible once they settle - a pattern not unlike the one that decorated Vorath Elyr’s wings. A pattern that had been appearing more and more on her body in times of distress before disappearing once the danger had passed. The tattoos glow bright blue before they settle into her skin, the druid gently being lowered to the ground while the vortex of magic fades away into nothingness. Sylvari lifts her arms to look at them, her eyes wide with awe. “Looks like we’re done here, for now. But definitely not forever. Goodbye, and hello as always!” With that, the owl god takes their leave, flying off to disappear into the same canopy they’d come from. Sylvari turns to the group, a timid, lopsided smile on her face. “Thank you,” she says.

Violet was the first one to embrace Sylvari, followed soon by Nor'andir, Alissera, and eventually all of Mythos. Happy, the Dreamwalker closed her eyes and prepared to ferry them back to Azeroth…

Epilogue - Ande'thoras-ethil

Before they started their journey back home, Sylvari suddenly stopped, and drew the group's attention to a figure making their way across the pond. It was the translucent spirit of Luynaraeth's father, Rae'llan.He approached, and embraced his daughter, who had just defeated the corruption lingering inside her soul. Calling her his "Moonflower," he remarked how similar she looks to her mother, and how proud he is of her resilience, strength and bravery. The old bear druid encouraged her to continue down that path, passing down the mantle from father to daughter before disappearing, carried away by the Dreaming's breeze.

Finally, Sylvari transported the group back to Azeroth, but their homecoming was not as smooth as perhaps expected. They all found themselves amidst some elven ruins in Moonglade, within an intricately constructed magical barrier. Their captor soon revealed himself... Valodriel.

The scholar looked haggard, and he revealed he'd held up the shield for almost seven days, initially to deter anything that might harm Sylvari (whom he'd transported out of Nighthaven to avoid detection by the druids), and eventually to keep inside whatever might escape from the Dream or the Nightmare. A frightening doppelganger of Sylvari lay on the floor of the ruined gazebo, a mimic wearing the druid's face like a mask that Valodriel had defeated. He thought Mythos were mimics as well, and needed to make sure it was them before letting them out.

Valodriel asked Sulfar a question only he could have known the answer to, about a vow that he had made to the demon hunter months ago. Sulfar replied that his vow had been to keep him safe from harm no matter what, to which the scholar nodded, before adding that he would do the same for all of Mythos. He took down the barrier, apologising for his zeal. He had to make sure it was them.

The group made their way back to Nighthaven, which, by now, had been stripped of the myriad of Lunar Festival decorations, and abandoned by the crowds from all across Azeroth. The quiet little town was perfect, the inn they'd called their base of operations during the festivities now blissfully empty.

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