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Sylvari first joined the company calling themselves Mythos out of necessity; with nowhere to go after being exiled from Kaldorei lands, the promise of safe passage across the sea bid the druid accompany the group on their journey to the Eastern Kingdoms. That very first voyage was far from safe, however, and the young Windsong soon became embroiled in their struggle to vanquish the Pilgrim, Mythos' nemesis, an eldritch foe threatening great damage to the people of Azeroth.Two years later, the Pilgrim lies dead, but the bonds they formed on their quest remain strong, the company now held together by trust, loyalty, and friendship. Their camaraderie will serve them well in the days to come, as more and more threats arise and the forces of Azeroth call upon their help.As for Sylvari, she has found the first place in a long time where she belongs, the first people in a long time she can call family. Through their acceptance, she may well find redemption and forgiveness, as undeserving as she judges herself to be...

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Redemption

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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.

Retribution

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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...

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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.

Memory

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 was a set of prayer beads, old, worn and until recently adorning the now mangled neck of the orc at her feet.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, picked up the orc’s severed head, and headed for Astranaar, in the opposite direction. She had some preparations to make.

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.”