Post by Benign Transience on Oct 1, 2010 17:38:28 GMT 1
Benign Transience, and Love's boundless aspirations
Note by the author: This isn't about anything that has happened or will happen, and has no bearing on the characters involved in-game. It is intended as an expression of the emotions involved with the events of cataclysm, and thus is more allegorical than literal.
Emotion is best invoked when in the appropriate mood, and I therefore suggest that readers read it through slowly, skim reading won't achieve anything. I also suggest you listen to the following soundtrack linked below. When writing it, it certainly helped me get into the mood, and I hope it will have the same affect on the reader. Other than that, thank you for reading!
www.youtube.com/watch?v=sAME_nxccpM&feature=related
The lone druid breathed deeply as she stood against the wind. Above her head twisted the gnarled and aged boughs of Ashenvale forest, and in the distance ahead of her the sanctified roofs of Astranaar glistened and radiated in the twilight. Long, silky strands of her verdant hair flew around behind her as the wind coursed through her hairline, a bitter, chilling wind that penetrated her robes and froze her ancient skin.
With a deep breath she pulled her robes tighter around her, standing still in contemplation, her eyes fixed on the settlement ahead. She stared at it, and it stared back at her with the same old, efflorescent, heart-warming smile that it did every time, reaching out to embrace her like a mother greeting a child.
But Galapheral's eyes hid a deep underlying disquiet that made itself unavoidably evident. Despite the overwhelming happiness she felt at being within her hometown's presence, she couldn't find comfort. She knew why she was here, what was only days from occurring, and she knew the most probable outcome. She'd witnessed the War of the Ancients, she had wept as she watched Malorne himself fall lifeless to the ground, she had fought tooth and nail against the endless tides of Silithyd in the War of the Shifting Sands, yet she'd never felt more helpless than now.
The orcs had always been a threat. They had slain Cenarius, the millennia-old demigod who was second only to Elune in malevolence, they had butchered their way through the ancient forests, defiling the lands Galapheral had called home for ten thousand years, and she had fought them all the way. For every tree that was logged, every wild beast slain, every flower trampled, Galapheral had felt it, and Galapheral had avenged it. But it was never enough. Now there was an army of orcs amassing on Astranaar's gates; Silverwing Hold, and what was left of the Silverwing Sentinels had finally been overrun three days ago, and Astranaar had been left defenceless. What would Malfurion do now? She asked herself, and to her dismay she found no answer. Everything they had was spent. The world tree was destroyed, the forests were all corrupted or felled, the last of the Dryads had been butchered, and Malfurion, the only man who stood a chance of saving them, was lost in the Emerald Dream. If Astranaar fell, what was left? An abomination of nature as a fake capital, and a few remote outposts scattered across the world, no. The story of the Kaldorei couldn't end here, it mustn't. Ten thousand years, and now they had no time.
She was woken from her trance by the screech of a nearby flock of birds, and she wondered how long she had spent gazing and thinking. She sighed another deep breath, and took a footstep forward. A heavy, gruelling footstep that seemed to move the very earth, that dear earth that had bore her, that had been her home for millennia.
A few minutes later she was crossing the ancient adorned bridge and stepping foot once more on the isle of Astranaar. She stopped to look around, gazing on in awe at the shimmering buildings, standing proud against the ages. But on the ground it was not the Astranaar she knew. The floor bustled with refugees, reinforcements, messengers and envoys darting from building to building. The waterside pier had been converted into a barracks, it seems. Raene Wolfrunner was probably inside right now, Galapheral could tell by the giant, fearsome cat sitting patiently outside.
"Ah Korra, you faithful old darling" she sighed and whispered to herself.
As always, as if on cue, Korra rose and bound up to Galapheral, her dark patterned face abound with joy and loyalty as she greeted her old friend. Galapheral smiled and knelt down gently to embrace the giant ball of playful fluff, reaching into her robes for some spare rations, which the giant cat gulped down gratefully, purring and rubbing her giant face against the old druid. The two had been friends for hundreds of years now, and always greeted each other in the same old fashion. There were very few people to whom Raene would let Korra into the care of, but Galapheral was one of them. Then Raene's familiar voice was heard calling, and Korra bound off to answer her mistress' call. Galapheral sighed contently and watched her go, then pulled her robes tighter around her and moved further through the town. The floor of the inn was sprawling with bed wraps and blankets, a desperate effort to comfort the hundreds of refugees that were now flooding in. Kaldorei priests and druids were frantically running from body to body, desperately trying to sooth the mood and calm the chorus of groaning from the injured. At the bridge a group of Sentinels carried another batch of injured off on stretchers to Maestra's Post, and in the newly converted barracks the arguing and planning of Raene and the Sentinel leaders echoed across the entire island. Galapheral sighed and looked up at the sky, its azure blue glow streaked across, framed by the verdant boughs of the surrounding glade. It never seemed to lose its soothing presence, no matter what ailed the ground, the roof of the world remained constant. And then she was awoken by the call of a familiar voice from behind.
"Galapheral?! Is it truly you?"
Galapheral spun around to see a tall, well armoured man striding swiftly towards her. His thick, sea-blue hair flying like a sail in the wind behind his head, his arms outstretched in greeting.
"Talrendis..." Galapheral whispered in surprise, letting loose a nostalgic sigh as the two embraced. He was significantly taller than her, so much so that he could place his chin over her head as the two held each other.
"I've missed you, Galapheral." he lamented as he gripped her tighter.
"I know, Talrendis, and I've missed you." She replied softly, speaking into his chest.
Slowly the two separated, though Talrendis still held Galapheral's shoulders at arm's length.
"Every day in Silithus I thought about you, wondering when next I could get some leave to come and see you. Then I heard you'd left the priesthood, finally followed your calling and started as a druid. I haven't been able to find you since."
Galapheral looked at the ground with the air of shame, then looked awkwardly at Talrendis.
"You know how it was, Tal. You helped me, remember? I've always been a druid, you helped me sneak out of the Temple and join my father for training. You must've known I'd leave as soon as they granted me official druidhood."
"I know, but I never thought you'd do it. Ten thousand years of pretending to be a priest, I didn't think you'd want to leave at the end of it all."
"And I never thought we'd see Astranaar in this sort of mess, looks like we were both surprised."
The two both nodded mournfully, looking silently around at the wreck of a town. She and Talrendis had been dearest friends since their posting in Silithus together, everyday he'd return from the field with stories, jokes, and tales that she sat long into the night listening to. Even now, seven thousand years later, he still greeted her with the same honest smile, that loving disposition that told of unconditional trust and friendship. Galapheral couldn't help but smile, although she loathed violence, if there was one man in the entire world she had to go into battle with, it was him. She cherished the thought, that he'd turn up at a time like this, the two of them standing defiant against the orcs, this is how it was to be.
Talrendis opened his mouth to say something, but was abruptly cut short by a stark yelling and wailing from the eastern gates, and a procession of frantic night elves running from every building in the village. The two spun around to see a handful of wounded Draenei clambering over the eastern bridge - the survivors from Forest Song.
The first collapsed, missing the arch and landing on the flora below. The second fell to his knees, tears flooding from his eyes as a team of sentinels ran to his aid. All of them were drenched in blood, several were even missing ligaments. Following behind was an elven hunter, frenetically firing arrows off into the trees beyond, crying out for sentinels to aid him. Barely metres beyond two blood-crazed orcs surged towards him, each coated in Draenic blood and bristling with arrows that had only pierced the armour. The sentinels barely had time to see what was happening, before the hunter was overrun. Desperately he threw aside his bow and reached for his daggers -
too late. The first orc careered into him, knocking him down to the floor below, the other pouncing atop him, daggers flailing like claws as they landed in the hunter's chest. His desperate screams of anguish were drowned out by the orc's vulgar victory shout, his face a twisted picture of despair as the final embers of life were extinguished. Sentinels dropped the wounded Draenei, charging over the bridge to avenge their fallen, but they were too slow. Already the orcs were fleeing down the road, and soon melted away into the forest.
Panting, breathless, the village looked on in dismay. Each was in shock from the events of the last 60 seconds, the speed at which the hunter had been murdered was deplorable, and only a few were woken by the cries from the wounded Draenei below. Galapheral and Talrendis rushed to their aid, bearing bandage and salve, and each wearing a face of dismay. One of the wounded reached out and grabbed Galapheral as she knelt down to help, her blood-soaked arms grasping Galapheral's leg with desperation. She looked up with stark urgency, trying to speak, but soon she fell back, coughing relentlessly. Specs of blood flew out of her mouth, then mortal wheezing as her chest refused to inhale.
"Stay with me!" Galapheral cried as she searched frantically in her robes for an enchanted seed, but she was cut short as the Draenei lunged forward, grabbing her by the chest.
"No... no!" She wheezed, barely audibly. "I'm... [cough] done for... Forest So -[cough] the orcs, we didn't stand a cha -[cough], everyone dead... they chased us, hunted us like animals... please [cough] run while you ca- [cough]..."
The Draenei rasped for breath, her desperate attempts a harrowing sound of terror, before her arms released their grip around Galapheral, and her body fell lifeless to the floor.
Galapheral sighed bleakly, then looked grimly over at Talrendis, who gave her a miserable glance, before turning back to his own patient. The village endeavoured for the next hour, desperately trying to save as many survivors as they could. By the time night began to fall, only three of the one-hundred and two populating Forest Song still lived.
* * * * * *
Galapheral staggered out of the converted inn-infirmary late that night, she looked up to the moon seeking guidance, and was shocked to see how far through the sky it had gotten. Was it really that late already? She moved back a few paces to lean against the wall, staring upwards at the sacred white crescent of innocence and divinity. She sighed gently, taking deep breaths as she clasped her hands together.
"Elune-adore, andu-falah-dor" - 'Elune be praised, may balance be restored' she whispered in melancholy, then smiled helplessly at the giant lamp in the sky. She shook her head dismissively, then turned her gaze back to earth and began the journey to her bed roll. She had gotten a few steps before stopping, turning around with a confused look on her face. Had she seen...?
To her amazement she saw Talrendis standing there, giving her the broad smile and out held arms that he always did. Delightfully Galapheral smiled, striding briskly into his embrace.
"What on earth are you doing up this late, Tal?" She asked, speaking again into his chest.
"Waiting for you, Galapheral." he softly replied. "I overheard Raene and her trackers, she says there's a good chance the orcs will attack tomorrow. I wanted to spend one last night with you, before -" Talrendis looked aside, sighing, unable to finish the sentence. Galapheral pulled herself away from his body to stare him in the eyes, a look of surprise and utter love adorning her face.
"I... I didn't think... don't you need your sleep?" She muttered.
"Not tonight. Astranaar isn't the only reason I came, Galapheral." He whispered earnestly, staring lovingly at her.
"I can't believe you came, Tal. This isn't your home town, and you're risking your life to save it. But if we're going to make a night of it, let's do it properly. Come on, let's sit by the lake. Like we did all those years ago."
Galapheral took a few steps away from Talrendis, dragging him by the hand over to the ellipse lake encircling Astranaar. She stood in thought a few moments, trying to find the exact spot from her memories.
"Here" exclaimed Talrendis, gesturing towards part of the bank. "And you were here".
Galapheral smiled as she walked over, then knelt down to sit on the bank, that same spot that the two had sat on the night of their first meeting, almost seven thousand years ago. Talrendis heaved a great sigh as he dropped down next to her, grunting as he untied his leather boots, and dropped his feet into the waters. Galapheral sighed a deep, peaceful sigh, then leaned in closer and lay her head on Talrendis' shoulder.
"I always loved this spot" she whispered. "It's so beautiful at this time. The sweet buzzing of the night wildlife, the soft rippling of the waters, the enchanting glow of Elune's light as it reflects off the water..."
"The cries of the wild, elf-eating nightsabers" Talrendis interrupted, turning to Galapheral and chuckling heartily.
"The ferocious Tal-eating beast of Ashenvale" she retorted, as the two stared tenderly at each other, chuckling fondly.
"We've had some good times together, Galapheral." He reminisced. "With your father too, I still remember when he tried to teach me your druid-stuff." Talrendis chuckled wryly. "How is the old dear, anyway?"
Galapheral sighed deeply at the mention of her father. The adoring, devoted father who had given up ten thousand years of his life to secretly teach her his druidism behind the Circle's back, the father who had risked his own life for her, who had cared for her all these years.
"He's... the man he always was, Tal. I saw him before I came here..." Galapheral was cut short by the reminder that she may never speak to him again, and she fell silent for a few moments. "He's safe, that's what matters. His home in Feralas will remain safe for a few years more. And I left him under the personal protection of the Feathermoon sentinels..." Galapheral fell silent again as memories of her father came flooding into her mind. She remembered him retorting that if she was ever killed, he'd die of grief. In the light of her current situation, that meaningless jest became suddenly all too harrowing.
Talrendis saw immediately the sadness in Galapheral's eyes, and swiftly brought a hanker chief out and began to dab her eyes.
"Come on Gala, he'll be fine, just you trust me. Even should the orcs attack tomorrow, there's not a chance they'll drop the mightiest druid I know." He comforted as he grinned broadly at her. "Listen to me, you -will- see him again."
Galapheral pulled his arm away from her face, staring at him directly.
"I'm not crying, Tal, I'm big enough to handle this." She exclaimed, but truthfully inside her heart she knew this was more than she could bear.
"Hey, there goes a fish!" Talrendis cried, pointing into the waters, trying to change the subject. There was no fish, and Galapheral knew it. She knew he was just trying to draw her attention away from where this thought-chain would inevitably take her, take them. He was doing what he always did, trying to make people happier.
"Tal, you really are the sweetest person I've ever met, you know that?" She admitted caringly. Talrendis looked quite surprised, and stuttered at such a bold comment.
"And you're really the most beaut- I mean caring person I've ever met, Galapheral." Talrendis blushed bright purple, and coughed deliberately after his mistake, looking away into the forest. Galapheral could do nothing but smile adoringly at his slip of the tongue, and decided not to make a point of it.
Talrendis slowly turned back, and the two stared straight at each other for several long minutes. Galapheral's eyes shone with love and affection that could never be expressed, her brow dipping sorrowfully as she knew she would never have the time to say how she felt about him. Talrendis' jaw lay unwittingly open as he stared dotingly at Galapheral, love-stricken and drugged by her gaze. Before either one of them had noticed it, their faces had edged within an inch of each other's, then in a bold leap of love-guided faith Talrendis closed the inch, bringing his lips softly up against hers. The pair spent the next minute absolved in each other's enticing trance, intoxicated by the final realisation of each other's adoration, as they blissfully allowed their lips to mingle.
Finally a bird cry brought them both out of the trance, and the two moved their heads slowly away from each other again.
"What was that for?" asked Galapheral dubiously.
"Seven thousand years of friendship" replied Talrendis with an adoring smile.
Galapheral raised a hand to gently caress his face, then turned away and looked out over the azure-glowing waters, sighing a sigh of sorrow, regret, and contentment. Together the two sat, looking on as the night withered away into morning.
* * * * * *
That morning the village was awoke by the resonance of horns, clatter of arms and weeping of the earth as it graced Astranaar with its last hours of free light. The west gate was a sea of bodies, the wounded and injured sitting or lying in glum spirits as they awaited the next Sentinel escort to Darkshore. The east gate was drowned in a wave of wood, braces, and flimsy palisade as the defenders desperately added as many layers of defence as was possible. In the centre of the village, the longhouse overlooking the pier was ablaze with commotion, as what stood by way of 'leadership' planned and premeditated the oncoming assault.
Inside the pier-house Raene Wolfrunner stamped noisily on the floor as she leaned aggressively over the map-table, glaring one by one at the others standing around. Looking on uneasily were Su'ura Swiftarrow, commander of Silverwing Grove, Faldreas Goeth'shael, the wise and loyal druid who had tended the gardens of Ashenvale for millennia, Pelturas Whitemoon, the appointed spokesman for the village's people, and Galapheral, who leant anxiously against the back wall, observing the others' debate intently.
"We can't seal off the whole damn valley, Su'ura." Snapped Raene. "The northern corridor is infested with furbolgs, they won't flank us that way, and the southern side of the lake is exposed to our archers from the pier-house, they'd be slaughtered if they assaulted that way. We need to focus our efforts on the main eastern gate."
She leaned back, taking her weight off the table as she was nodded at by the surrounding convocation. Then Su'ura Swiftarrow stepped forward, gesturing to the lands around the village.
"There are a hundred different ways the enemy could flank us, and look what lies beyond - Maestra's, Auberdine, all are totally defenceless. Even should we survive the ensuing onslaught, we can't prevent being overrun eventually. We must all fall back to Darnassus before we're slaughtered -" She argued, before being violently interrupted by Faldreas.
"Darnassus! I fear you have been Commander all too few a number of years, Su'ura. You would surrender the last lands we hold of our old empire, to hide in a 10 year old loft that transgresses nature itself? I will never leave this forest!" Shouted Faldreas, as he was accompanied by mumbles of agreement and even some clapping from the elves in the background.
"Quiet, both of you!" Snapped Raene as she motioned for silence, then turned to Pelturas, smiling civilly. "Pelturas, you know the people. It is the Sentinels' job to defend this village to the death, but I need to know if we have a people to save. How fare their spirits?"
Pelturas grimaced, and looked out the doorway at the bustle of his people preparing to flee.
"Not good, I'm afraid Raene. They're scared, some share your spirit to die fighting for our lands, others just want this nightmare to end." He spoke, looking Raene straight in the eye. He then straightened his shoulders back, adopting a formal, perhaps even military stance, looking around resolutely at the convocation.
"They are ready to die for their homes, if it comes to it, Raene."
The ancient huntress nodded, smiling at Pelturas. Then turned again to Su'ura.
"I need numbers. How many of your sentinels survived the assault on Silverwing Grove?"
Su'ura heaved a great sigh, leaning her weight onto her glaive as she spoke.
"13. Plus the 20 we got as reinforcements from Darnassus. That's all I can give you."
Raene looked down grimly at the map as Su'ura spoke, then fell silent awhile in thought. Finally she turned to Galapheral, gesturing for her to step forward.
"Galapheral, these lands have been your home since before the War of the Ancients, I need to know: Is there anything else, anything at all that we can use?"
Galapheral pulled her weight away from the wall, and approached the map table slowly. She looked her old friend straight in the eye, shaking her head bleakly.
"No. The orcs attacked Raynewood Retreat a week ago, the dryads were all butchered. Since the corruption the furbolgs are nothing more than wild animals, and the treants are too few in number. Our only chance is to stand with the force we've got."
Raene sighed and hammered the desk in anger, the turning away and running her fingers through her hair anxiously.
"There's got to be something." She whispered to herself.
"What about the barrow dens? Are there any druids still asleep?" She quizzed as she spun around, looking at Galapheral and Faldreas, who both gave each other a mournful glance.
"None, Raene." Answered Galapheral.
"All the barrow dens have either been corrupted or destroyed by the orcs, the only dens left are too far north, we'd never wake them in time."
Raene buried her head in her hands, staggering slowly to the balcony overlooking the lake, where she stood still for several long, arduous minutes. Then finally turned around, stared at convocation with a resolute and determined look.
"Then it looks like we have no way out of this. We fight here, with what and whom we have." She ordered authoratively. "Go prepare. I expect each and every one of you to be ready to fight come nightfall." Raene then turned, looking back out over the lake. Korra cowered down on the floor in the corner, staring uneasily at her mistress. Whatever affected Raene affected Korra too. Galapheral saw it immediately, waiting for the others to vacate the room before strolling up to her old friend, and putting an arm gently over her shoulder. The two stood there for awhile, thinking about Astranaar, about their memories, no words needed saying.
After several long minutes of contemplation, Galapheral rubbed her friend's shoulder gently, before turning to leave. She felt Korra's soft snout nuzzle her hand as passed, and she knelt down to face the faithful beast. Korra's deep, pearl eyes glinted with melancholy, that sorrowful glimmer that sung of loss. Galapheral stroked her patterned face softly, meeting the gloomy gaze with a loving smile.
"Now you be good, do you hear? You stick with Raene, you keep her safe. If this is goodbye, then know that Raene could never have asked for a better guardian. Be good, Korra." She whispered gently. Korra leaned forward and nuzzled her face into Galapheral's, and the two exchanged memories. Eventually the old druid rose, gave the faithful feline one last stroke, then turned and walked out onto the street, leaving Raene and her dependable companion to grieve alone.
Galapheral got no further than the bottom of the pier-house steps before giving into the inexorable notion of impending destruction. She sighed mournfully, leaning down to sit on the bottom step, looking around at the village. People were still running around, each pursuing their own doomed attempts at forestalling the inevitable. Each carrying the flicker of hope in their eyes, barely detectable behind the overwhelming glower of desperation and fear. Galapheral was struck by the sudden realisation that she barely knew any of them. There was a time when she knew the faces of every single household in the valley, but many of those had moved away, and many had finally spent the time allowed them in life. Now the valley was inhabited by a younger generation, a generation who don't remember the times when demons swarmed the halls of the capital, when the Kaldorei owed everything to the sacrifices of Malorne and the dragonflights. A generation to whom the betrayer is nothing more than a story, an ancient piece of history to be recited and learned, but not a memory. Galapheral was too old, a remnant of a bygone age, she had lived her time and lived it to the full, perhaps it was at last time for her to join the balance, she thought as she watched and waited. And then as always something interrupted, some minor interference that disrupted her line of thought and brought her back to the present. This time it was a scout returning from the forest, stepping past her on his way up the stairs to Raene. Galapheral sighed again, then decided there was time yet to make a difference. Slowly she rose from her step and moved over to a sentinel huntress who was struggling with rope to hold tight a barricade. She stopped as she saw the old druid approach, dropping the rope and saluting her superior.
"Ishnu'alah, Elder" she muttered, expecting to be given some other seemingly pointless assignment. Instead she was greeted by a warm smile as the druid rested an arm on her shoulder.
"At ease, huntress. I'm just here to talk." Soothed Galapheral as she looked into the sentinel's eyes. "Tell me, where were you born?"
"Er, to the north, ma'am, in Darkshore." Answered the sentinel, looking quite perturbed.
"Are your parents still alive?" Quizzed the druid, being forthright without being imposing.
"Er, no, ma'am. They both perished in the fight against Archimonde."
"I see, I too lost someone special in that war. But tell me, do you have children?"
"No, ma'am." Answered the sentinel abruptly, now acting quite confused.
"Then what makes you fight? If you were to die today, what would it be for?" Pressed the druid.
"Defence of our lands ma'am, or so the commander says. I don't really have anyone to fight for, not anymore."
"Then tell me, what is your heart's greatest desire?"
"Greatest desire? I... I shouldn't really be saying this, but I met this druid several years ago, he never notices me though..." Galapheral cut the sentinel short.
"Then fight for him. Fight for his defence, his freedom, for your love. And if the balance takes you, go knowing that you died defending the thing most dear to you."
Galapheral patted the sentinel's shoulder, then turned and walked away briskly, without giving her a chance to respond. She smiled to herself as she left, knowing that when that sentinel faces battle, she'll fight with renewed morale.
After several hours of speaking to other soldiers, giving them each their own goal to die for, Galapheral looked to the sky, judging the position of the sun. She wondered if there was time for one last walk through the vale, one last journey through her memories, but there wasn't. The day was withering away fast, and sunset was creeping up on the elves like a stalker from the shadows, bringing with it the promise of death and devastation. She wondered suddenly where Talrendis was, and turned around to see him helping load the dead and wounded onto carriages to be taken west. Briefly she considered distracting him, asking him to reserve the last half hour of daylight, the last half hour of his life for her, and she knew he would, he would sacrifice anything if she asked it, but Astranaar and its people came first. Love's boundless aspirations would have to be contained, just this once. Slowly she turned and looked toward the Moonwell, where Faldreas was knelt, reciting his vows. Galapheral sighed, looking around for people to help, defences to fix, and saw several. Some shadowed and undeniable flicker at the back of her mind held off the compulsion to go help, to do her duty, to be selfless, and reminded her of her father's advice. His warm, inviting face that promised of safety and belonging, whispering the words to her as a child. "Always make sacrifices to help others, my dear, but please, always remember to see to your own needs, don't go wanting, your mother wouldn't have wanted that..." Galapheral couldn't help but mutter his name under her breath, and snatched at the air as the memory came back to her. Her father had spoken those words to her on the night after her mother's death, the third night of the war of the ancients, the night both their hearts had been wrenched in two. Galapheral had been but a child, and after ten thousand years had lost all but a few memories of her mother. Why that memory had annoyingly thrust itself into her mind at that moment she didn't know, but it touched her more than she would have expected. She looked around once more at the wounded, at the sentinels still building palisade, then shook her head and made for the banks of the lake. There she sat and pondered, recalling what she could of her mother, and recalling the years spent with her father, and then of course Tal... where did he fit in all this? How long had he loved her? How long had she loved him? What could they have been if they hadn't been so afraid to tell each other... so many questions, they flooded over her like insects, swarming and overwhelming her mind. She had so much left to do, so much more to give, she thought that after ten millennia she'd be ready to die, ready to exhale her last breath and finally join the balance, but now she realised she was no more ready than the children. She turned back, looking at Tal who was now dressing the wounds of the injured, and was ashamed of her personal indulgence at a time like this. She had to go help, this was selfish, and hurtful besides.
She spent another five minutes staring at the water, glaring at its incandescent glow and its methodical rippling, finally she lowered her finger and flicked the water gentle, creating a series of ripples spreading outward. She thought about how easily the world could be influenced by the smallest actions, but dismissed the chain of thought before it dragged her down into another session of philosophy and self reflection. It was time to help others, now. She whispered goodbye to the waters by which she'd sat and contemplated all her life, then turned back into the bustle of preparations.
She had been tending to the injured barely 10 minutes before the sentinel commander's trumpet sounded, and Raene Wolfrunner was seen striding proudly out of the pier-house to stand in the centre of the village. Sentinels from all around abandoned their efforts and gathered around her, organising themselves into the groups decided beforehand. The 20 reinforcements from Darnassus stood in ordered formation, with Sentinel Captain Melthia standing at their head. Next to them stood the 13 survivors from Silverwing Hold, most had bandages and some even missing ligaments, but they nonetheless stood resolute behind Su'ura Swiftrunner, their honoured commander who stood now with both her glaives drawn, and fierce war paint adorning her face. To the side was a small collection of druids, villagers who had taken up arms, headed by Faldreas Goeth'shael. None were armed, barely any were trained. In the eyes of the sentinels they were hopeless, but each and every one had chosen to die fighting rather than give Astranaar to the orcs. Galapheral and Talrendis met each other in the road, and made their way to stand behind Faldreas. Again the horn sounded, as Raene called for silence and began her speech.
"Captain Melthia, you lead the largest and freshest division, and therefore it is your job to hold the gates. You and your sentinels will hold the barricades until the last possible moment, then follow your orders as we discussed last night." Ordered Raene with authority, and was responded to with a sharp salute from Melthia and her sentinels as she lead them off to the eastern gate. Raene saluted back, then turned to Su'ura.
"Commander Su'ura Swiftrunner, as the most experienced soldier here and leader of the remaining Silverwings, it is your job to be second line of defence. Once the barricades are broken, Melthia's division will be relying on you to be there watching their backs as they reform. Avenge your fallen sisters, my old friend." Raene smiled and nodded formally at the sentinel commander, who saluted in turn, then lead what remained of her battered force into position. Finally Raene turned to Faldreas and his band of druids and villagers.
"Faldreas, you may not lead any soldiers, but you have on your side several powerful druids, including the esteemed Galapheral Whisperbough. Together you are the village's final line of defence. Fight well in the eyes of Elune, my old friends." Raene bowed before them, smiling in particular to Galapheral and Talrendis. Then saluted and made her way to join Captain Melthia at the gates.
Faldreas and his villagers watched Raene leave with the frightful gaze of a child left alone by its mother, each one still retaining that glimmer of sorrow, that underlying knowledge that the huntress they watched would be dead before the night was out. They stood there for awhile, mute and inanimate, before Galapheral broke the silence, stepping forward then turning to face the group of would-be soldiers.
"If we're going down, we're going to do it with pride. If we're going to die, let's die knowing that for years the Kaldorei will sing of our bravery, and of how but a few defenders held off an army five times their size, how the resolute defenders of Ashenvale forest struck fear into the hearts of the vile orcs with their steel and heroism. Tonight we fight in the eyes of Malorne and Elune, and we shall not falter. For Astranaar!" She shouted as she stared gravely into the eyes of the defenders, who cheered after her, brandishing their makeshift arms valiantly. Faldreas gestured and lead them off to form a line, leaving Galapheral and Talrendis alone.
The two stepped up to each other, Tal opening his arms wide as he always did, Galapheral smiled meekly, striding into him as the two embraced for the last time. Her arms clutched the back of his armour possessively, and he in turn ran his gloved fingers clumsily through her hair. Galapheral buried her head into his chest, as he rested his chin on the top of her head. Although neither of them would show it, both were now crying.
"Fight well, Tal." She muttered, talking into his chest. "If... if we don't speak again, I want you to know I love you."
Talrendis held her tighter, opening his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a stark horn blowing from the eastern gates. As always, their time had been cut short, and this time there would be no later. He let Galapheral go, taking a step away, finally managing to utter the words before turning to leave. "I love you too, my dear."
* * * * * *
The attack didn't come unexpected, the foreboding leviathan of metal and of spear and of reeking flesh had been spotted from miles away, hacking and burning its way through the sanctified forest like a black tide on a crystal beach. Now it stood at the gates of Astranaar, its front lines mocking and taunting the barricaded elves, brandishing their foul arms viciously. A black spectre pushed and forced its way through the ranks to the front, to reveal itself. An orc commander, donned in armour as black as his soul, and surrounded by a pervasive aura of fetid repugnance. It raised a hideous hand and gesticulated across its throat as if slitting it, then thrust its tainted blade into the air, ordering its minions on with a sickening battle shout.
"Lok'tar Ogar! Leave none alive!" It howled, as the horde multitude surged forwards, descending on the elven barricades like a flood over a hovel.
Atop the crude barricades Raene Wolfrunner and Captain Melthia Moonsong watched on with horror, raising their arms to signal the huntresses under their command.
"Archers, take aim..." Cried Raene, as she pulled back the strings on her own bow.
"Take aim... FIRE!" She roared, as the elven defenders let loose a volley of death and laceration upon the front lines of the horde. Several orcs fell forward, their lives snuffed out at the piercing tip of an arrow, but their bodies were soon overrun by a new wave, and then another, and in moments foul axes were hacking away at the crudely constructed barricades.
The elven defenders stood fast, even as fetid axes flung at their feet they held their ground, frenetically firing volley after volley into the horde menace. But the barricades could only hold so long, and soon the orcs were hacking the very foundations of their makeshift wall.
With a harrowing resonance of splintering wood, the middle section collapsed, throwing Melthia and four other sentinels flying forwards to disappear amongst the tide of dark images.
"Fill the breach!" Howled Raene, as the sentinels on sections nearby jumped down to block off the surge of blood crazed orcs, but then another section collapsed, throwing another three sentinels to their deaths. Raene looked down helplessly at the vile creatures attacking her own section of barricade, then knew it was time. Bringing her horn to her mouth she sounded three times, three deafening blows that slew any of the hope remaining in the sentinels' hearts, how could the retreat be sounded so early? What chance had they now?
Desperately the sentinels flung themselves from the crude walls and ran back to safety, as Su'ura Swiftrunner and her remaining Silverwings thrust themselves into the breaches, shields raised as high as their ever-singing spirits they crashed into the horde menace with a heroism and strength of heart that rekindled the fires of hope in those that were fleeing. Their silvery spectral forms dancing like elegant spirits before the horde axes, ever dodging, ever coming back to strike again.
But the horde were too many, slowly the line of silver apparitions was pushed back, back to be joined by Raene and the remains of the sentinel force. Under the fierce command of Su'ura and Raene, the vastly outnumbered fought on, blocking and swinging, dodging and lunging. The inexorable rush of orcs kept on relentlessly, wave after wave, but each new wave had more and more orcish bodies to climb over as tens and tens were cut down by the ever-valiant sentinels.
Galapheral watched on sternly, eyeing the numbers of their own, keeping watch for flanking groups, counting out the distance between the front lines and the villagers. As soon as Raene and her sentinels reached the inn, she decided it was time.
Stepping forward she signalled to the druids around her, and together they began to gesticulate with their arms, muttering ancient incantations under their breath. A green incandescence began to emanate from their arms, and a swirling verdant pearl began to augment in their embrace as they cast. Galapheral flung her arms forward, outstretching them towards the lines of orcs, and the luminescent pearl surged forth like a flame, arcing into the hideous lines of dark forms. The other druids followed her lead, each hurling their own balls of druid fire arcing into the enemy, who began to rear their heads at the torrent of green light surging towards them. The sentinels dropped to the floor, making way for the cascade of druid fire to dissipate through the ranks of the orcish army. Harrowing screams resonated through the valley as the demonic flesh of the vile army was incinerated, row and row of hideous creatures howled and fell to the floor, smote by nature's fury.
Galapheral and her druids repeated, launching another torrent cascading into the orcish horde, but there were too many. For each orc that died three more ran forward in its place, and before long the sentinels were overrun. Soon Su'ura and the last of her Silverwings found themselves flanked, cut off the from the rest of the line. Surrounded by giant beasts she seemed only to grow more infuriated, swinging her massive war glaives around in a whirlwind of death. Three orcs came at her, brandishing axe and hammer, the first swung wildly for her head, but she ducked, leaping forwards and knocking the orc to the floor, her left glaive buried in its chest. The other two flanked her either side, each aiming for her waist. But she was too fast, parrying right attacker with one glaive, and swinging the other down upon the empty head of the left. She then turned her fury on the last attacker, ripping it apart like a sack of wheat. But then more came, and more, the last Silverwing Sentinel was finally felled, leaving Su'ura alone, encircled by a score of vile beasts. Feverishly she fought on, dropping four, five, six of them with ease, but eventually she was caught as six notched blades came for her at once. Somehow she managed to parry four of them, the fifth catching her armour, but the sixth was the final curse.
Su'ura yelped as the wicked blade found a gap in her armour, burying itself into her waist. Faltering momentarily with the pain, more blades sought after her, and soon she was ripped apart.
Talrendis watched on in revulsion as Raene was outflanked. Barely 10 of the defenders remained, slowly being encircled by the orcs.
"For Raene, for Astranaar!" cried Talrendis as he lead his villagers surging into the orc mass. Accompanied by another torrent of druid fire the courageous old soldier fought relentlessly through the ranks of the enemy, freeing Raene's right flank. But the villagers were not soldiers, without armour and without training they were soon torn from their ranks and slain, soon the horde encircled them too, and only the druids stood any chance of escaping. Raene fought on vigilantly, swerving and dodging every attack, but like Su'ura she was soon overwhelmed. Knocked to the floor by a shield bash, she lay at the mercy of the orcs leaping upon her. Howling madly, Korra leapt from his target, careering into the side of the orcs attacking Raene. Madly he tore apart their vile green flesh, then pounced anew. Raene stumbled to her feet, indebted once again to her faithful feline, and once more soared into battle.
But their numbers were dwindling, soon the last villager's life was snuffed out, and the sentinels stood almost alone against the orcs. A clump of orcs broke off for the horde, heading straight for the undefended druids. Galapheral ordered her druids to change target immediately, leaving the sentinels unsupported as the druid fire was redirected to the oncoming attack. Many orcs fell screaming to the ground, but some made it through, tearing into the druids like paper. Faldreas Goeth'shael leapt to avoid an axe, but was too slow. Soon he lay screaming on the ground with a spear penetrating his lungs, and an orc glowering over him, then finally bringing his axe down to lay in Faldreas' skull.
Galapheral thrust all her fury in Faldreas' defence, arcing a torrent of druid fire into the orc, tearing him asunder. But not fast enough to save the village elder. Now she knew it was time. Quickly she fumbled around in her robes for her pouch, the old pouch that she had carried for all the long years of her life, given to her by her father on her first day of druid training. For millennia she had carried it to contain only her most potent druid seeds, and now was the time to use them. Frantically she tipped the seeds out into her hand, under normal circumstances she might have taken a moment to marvel at their beauty, their alluring verdant incandescence that shone like green tinted moonlight, but she hadn't the time. She hastily recited an ancient incantation, then shut her eyes and began to chant, began to channel the ancient ritual that would appeal to nature itself to aid her.
Green luminous light pulsed from out of the ancient druid's hands, then the forest itself began to move, and whisper, and howl. Moments later all manner of forest guardians that had survived the orc's presence began to appear, the last of the treants rallied behind Galapheral, then stomped off to save Raene and the remaining sentinels. Shadumbra, the gigantic ferocious panther that stalked Raynewood Retreat leapt swiftly down from the rooftops, shredding three orcs to pieces, and Sharptalon, the legendary hippogryph of Ashenvale forest swooped down upon the vast horde of aberrations.
For moments the forest and the night elves fought as one, fought in unity and balance against the demonic invaders, but then they began to falter. Cenarius himself couldn't stand against the orcs, and neither could the forest. The treants were the first to fall, their role was peaceful and sacred, not of combat, and they were soon felled. Sharptalon was next, falling screeching to the ground as his wing was perforated, to land and disappear amidst the howling orcs. The sentinel line finally broke, and a wave of orcs burst into the inn, plunging their axes into the chests of the wounded, the helpless and bedridden who weren't lucky enough to be evacuated.
Injured and bloodied, Raene Wolfrunner and the two remaining sentinels staggered back to join Galapheral and the one other druid who was left. Talrendis was trapped, standing against the wall of the pier-house surrounded by orcs. Galapheral screamed to Raene to defend her whilst she launched torrent after torrent of druid fire into Tal's aggressors, but Raene was injured and slowed, the orcs were too fast for her now. Galapheral looked around in dismay, Tal was trapped, Korra was cornered and now herself and Raene had an army of orcs coming at them. It was over.
With all her might she flung out, arcing the druid fire into her attackers, emptying herself of her last reserves, and then it came. The black vile dagger that promised of death and ultimate closure finally found her, piercing through her robes like butter and sliding through her stomach. It wasn't as painful as she had imagined, she didn't scream or yelp, she just stood there, looking down at the dagger lodged inside it. Blood was trickling out of the wound, running down her robes. That'll stain, she thought. Father won't be pleased, he hates it when I visit him with stained robes...
Then her vision began to fade, colours withered away into black and white, somewhere far over she could hear Talrendis screaming, wailing desperately as he tried to fight his way to her, trapped behind a black sea of hideous forms, pushing him back, separating him from saving his love.
Then it came again, an axe this time. Careering into her side, knocking her to the floor. This time it did hurt, it tore through her flesh and severed her lung in two. Galapheral heard thuds as a the putrid horde charged over her body to finish the remaining defenders. She had failed, Astranaar was finished...
All her senses began to fade away from her, she lost sense of time and place, all she could think about was her father, her mother, Tal... Oh dear Tal, if only she'd told him sooner, they could have had so much. But it was over now, it was all over.
Galapheral coughed up thick red blood, then her bloodied mouth let out a soft groan as she exhaled her last breath. Love's divine comforts withered away into dust, crumbling before the demonic might of war, jealousy and hatred. Meaning turned folly as thought faded from her mind, and Galapheral ceased to be.
A thousand miles south on Feathermoon Isle, Falturas Whisperbough fell to his knees, his hands clutching the air. He looked to the north with blurred vision as his eyes filled with tears, his heart wrenching itself from his chest as he felt the lifeforce of his daughter wither, and flicker out.
Note by the author: This isn't about anything that has happened or will happen, and has no bearing on the characters involved in-game. It is intended as an expression of the emotions involved with the events of cataclysm, and thus is more allegorical than literal.
Emotion is best invoked when in the appropriate mood, and I therefore suggest that readers read it through slowly, skim reading won't achieve anything. I also suggest you listen to the following soundtrack linked below. When writing it, it certainly helped me get into the mood, and I hope it will have the same affect on the reader. Other than that, thank you for reading!
www.youtube.com/watch?v=sAME_nxccpM&feature=related
The lone druid breathed deeply as she stood against the wind. Above her head twisted the gnarled and aged boughs of Ashenvale forest, and in the distance ahead of her the sanctified roofs of Astranaar glistened and radiated in the twilight. Long, silky strands of her verdant hair flew around behind her as the wind coursed through her hairline, a bitter, chilling wind that penetrated her robes and froze her ancient skin.
With a deep breath she pulled her robes tighter around her, standing still in contemplation, her eyes fixed on the settlement ahead. She stared at it, and it stared back at her with the same old, efflorescent, heart-warming smile that it did every time, reaching out to embrace her like a mother greeting a child.
But Galapheral's eyes hid a deep underlying disquiet that made itself unavoidably evident. Despite the overwhelming happiness she felt at being within her hometown's presence, she couldn't find comfort. She knew why she was here, what was only days from occurring, and she knew the most probable outcome. She'd witnessed the War of the Ancients, she had wept as she watched Malorne himself fall lifeless to the ground, she had fought tooth and nail against the endless tides of Silithyd in the War of the Shifting Sands, yet she'd never felt more helpless than now.
The orcs had always been a threat. They had slain Cenarius, the millennia-old demigod who was second only to Elune in malevolence, they had butchered their way through the ancient forests, defiling the lands Galapheral had called home for ten thousand years, and she had fought them all the way. For every tree that was logged, every wild beast slain, every flower trampled, Galapheral had felt it, and Galapheral had avenged it. But it was never enough. Now there was an army of orcs amassing on Astranaar's gates; Silverwing Hold, and what was left of the Silverwing Sentinels had finally been overrun three days ago, and Astranaar had been left defenceless. What would Malfurion do now? She asked herself, and to her dismay she found no answer. Everything they had was spent. The world tree was destroyed, the forests were all corrupted or felled, the last of the Dryads had been butchered, and Malfurion, the only man who stood a chance of saving them, was lost in the Emerald Dream. If Astranaar fell, what was left? An abomination of nature as a fake capital, and a few remote outposts scattered across the world, no. The story of the Kaldorei couldn't end here, it mustn't. Ten thousand years, and now they had no time.
She was woken from her trance by the screech of a nearby flock of birds, and she wondered how long she had spent gazing and thinking. She sighed another deep breath, and took a footstep forward. A heavy, gruelling footstep that seemed to move the very earth, that dear earth that had bore her, that had been her home for millennia.
A few minutes later she was crossing the ancient adorned bridge and stepping foot once more on the isle of Astranaar. She stopped to look around, gazing on in awe at the shimmering buildings, standing proud against the ages. But on the ground it was not the Astranaar she knew. The floor bustled with refugees, reinforcements, messengers and envoys darting from building to building. The waterside pier had been converted into a barracks, it seems. Raene Wolfrunner was probably inside right now, Galapheral could tell by the giant, fearsome cat sitting patiently outside.
"Ah Korra, you faithful old darling" she sighed and whispered to herself.
As always, as if on cue, Korra rose and bound up to Galapheral, her dark patterned face abound with joy and loyalty as she greeted her old friend. Galapheral smiled and knelt down gently to embrace the giant ball of playful fluff, reaching into her robes for some spare rations, which the giant cat gulped down gratefully, purring and rubbing her giant face against the old druid. The two had been friends for hundreds of years now, and always greeted each other in the same old fashion. There were very few people to whom Raene would let Korra into the care of, but Galapheral was one of them. Then Raene's familiar voice was heard calling, and Korra bound off to answer her mistress' call. Galapheral sighed contently and watched her go, then pulled her robes tighter around her and moved further through the town. The floor of the inn was sprawling with bed wraps and blankets, a desperate effort to comfort the hundreds of refugees that were now flooding in. Kaldorei priests and druids were frantically running from body to body, desperately trying to sooth the mood and calm the chorus of groaning from the injured. At the bridge a group of Sentinels carried another batch of injured off on stretchers to Maestra's Post, and in the newly converted barracks the arguing and planning of Raene and the Sentinel leaders echoed across the entire island. Galapheral sighed and looked up at the sky, its azure blue glow streaked across, framed by the verdant boughs of the surrounding glade. It never seemed to lose its soothing presence, no matter what ailed the ground, the roof of the world remained constant. And then she was awoken by the call of a familiar voice from behind.
"Galapheral?! Is it truly you?"
Galapheral spun around to see a tall, well armoured man striding swiftly towards her. His thick, sea-blue hair flying like a sail in the wind behind his head, his arms outstretched in greeting.
"Talrendis..." Galapheral whispered in surprise, letting loose a nostalgic sigh as the two embraced. He was significantly taller than her, so much so that he could place his chin over her head as the two held each other.
"I've missed you, Galapheral." he lamented as he gripped her tighter.
"I know, Talrendis, and I've missed you." She replied softly, speaking into his chest.
Slowly the two separated, though Talrendis still held Galapheral's shoulders at arm's length.
"Every day in Silithus I thought about you, wondering when next I could get some leave to come and see you. Then I heard you'd left the priesthood, finally followed your calling and started as a druid. I haven't been able to find you since."
Galapheral looked at the ground with the air of shame, then looked awkwardly at Talrendis.
"You know how it was, Tal. You helped me, remember? I've always been a druid, you helped me sneak out of the Temple and join my father for training. You must've known I'd leave as soon as they granted me official druidhood."
"I know, but I never thought you'd do it. Ten thousand years of pretending to be a priest, I didn't think you'd want to leave at the end of it all."
"And I never thought we'd see Astranaar in this sort of mess, looks like we were both surprised."
The two both nodded mournfully, looking silently around at the wreck of a town. She and Talrendis had been dearest friends since their posting in Silithus together, everyday he'd return from the field with stories, jokes, and tales that she sat long into the night listening to. Even now, seven thousand years later, he still greeted her with the same honest smile, that loving disposition that told of unconditional trust and friendship. Galapheral couldn't help but smile, although she loathed violence, if there was one man in the entire world she had to go into battle with, it was him. She cherished the thought, that he'd turn up at a time like this, the two of them standing defiant against the orcs, this is how it was to be.
Talrendis opened his mouth to say something, but was abruptly cut short by a stark yelling and wailing from the eastern gates, and a procession of frantic night elves running from every building in the village. The two spun around to see a handful of wounded Draenei clambering over the eastern bridge - the survivors from Forest Song.
The first collapsed, missing the arch and landing on the flora below. The second fell to his knees, tears flooding from his eyes as a team of sentinels ran to his aid. All of them were drenched in blood, several were even missing ligaments. Following behind was an elven hunter, frenetically firing arrows off into the trees beyond, crying out for sentinels to aid him. Barely metres beyond two blood-crazed orcs surged towards him, each coated in Draenic blood and bristling with arrows that had only pierced the armour. The sentinels barely had time to see what was happening, before the hunter was overrun. Desperately he threw aside his bow and reached for his daggers -
too late. The first orc careered into him, knocking him down to the floor below, the other pouncing atop him, daggers flailing like claws as they landed in the hunter's chest. His desperate screams of anguish were drowned out by the orc's vulgar victory shout, his face a twisted picture of despair as the final embers of life were extinguished. Sentinels dropped the wounded Draenei, charging over the bridge to avenge their fallen, but they were too slow. Already the orcs were fleeing down the road, and soon melted away into the forest.
Panting, breathless, the village looked on in dismay. Each was in shock from the events of the last 60 seconds, the speed at which the hunter had been murdered was deplorable, and only a few were woken by the cries from the wounded Draenei below. Galapheral and Talrendis rushed to their aid, bearing bandage and salve, and each wearing a face of dismay. One of the wounded reached out and grabbed Galapheral as she knelt down to help, her blood-soaked arms grasping Galapheral's leg with desperation. She looked up with stark urgency, trying to speak, but soon she fell back, coughing relentlessly. Specs of blood flew out of her mouth, then mortal wheezing as her chest refused to inhale.
"Stay with me!" Galapheral cried as she searched frantically in her robes for an enchanted seed, but she was cut short as the Draenei lunged forward, grabbing her by the chest.
"No... no!" She wheezed, barely audibly. "I'm... [cough] done for... Forest So -[cough] the orcs, we didn't stand a cha -[cough], everyone dead... they chased us, hunted us like animals... please [cough] run while you ca- [cough]..."
The Draenei rasped for breath, her desperate attempts a harrowing sound of terror, before her arms released their grip around Galapheral, and her body fell lifeless to the floor.
Galapheral sighed bleakly, then looked grimly over at Talrendis, who gave her a miserable glance, before turning back to his own patient. The village endeavoured for the next hour, desperately trying to save as many survivors as they could. By the time night began to fall, only three of the one-hundred and two populating Forest Song still lived.
* * * * * *
Galapheral staggered out of the converted inn-infirmary late that night, she looked up to the moon seeking guidance, and was shocked to see how far through the sky it had gotten. Was it really that late already? She moved back a few paces to lean against the wall, staring upwards at the sacred white crescent of innocence and divinity. She sighed gently, taking deep breaths as she clasped her hands together.
"Elune-adore, andu-falah-dor" - 'Elune be praised, may balance be restored' she whispered in melancholy, then smiled helplessly at the giant lamp in the sky. She shook her head dismissively, then turned her gaze back to earth and began the journey to her bed roll. She had gotten a few steps before stopping, turning around with a confused look on her face. Had she seen...?
To her amazement she saw Talrendis standing there, giving her the broad smile and out held arms that he always did. Delightfully Galapheral smiled, striding briskly into his embrace.
"What on earth are you doing up this late, Tal?" She asked, speaking again into his chest.
"Waiting for you, Galapheral." he softly replied. "I overheard Raene and her trackers, she says there's a good chance the orcs will attack tomorrow. I wanted to spend one last night with you, before -" Talrendis looked aside, sighing, unable to finish the sentence. Galapheral pulled herself away from his body to stare him in the eyes, a look of surprise and utter love adorning her face.
"I... I didn't think... don't you need your sleep?" She muttered.
"Not tonight. Astranaar isn't the only reason I came, Galapheral." He whispered earnestly, staring lovingly at her.
"I can't believe you came, Tal. This isn't your home town, and you're risking your life to save it. But if we're going to make a night of it, let's do it properly. Come on, let's sit by the lake. Like we did all those years ago."
Galapheral took a few steps away from Talrendis, dragging him by the hand over to the ellipse lake encircling Astranaar. She stood in thought a few moments, trying to find the exact spot from her memories.
"Here" exclaimed Talrendis, gesturing towards part of the bank. "And you were here".
Galapheral smiled as she walked over, then knelt down to sit on the bank, that same spot that the two had sat on the night of their first meeting, almost seven thousand years ago. Talrendis heaved a great sigh as he dropped down next to her, grunting as he untied his leather boots, and dropped his feet into the waters. Galapheral sighed a deep, peaceful sigh, then leaned in closer and lay her head on Talrendis' shoulder.
"I always loved this spot" she whispered. "It's so beautiful at this time. The sweet buzzing of the night wildlife, the soft rippling of the waters, the enchanting glow of Elune's light as it reflects off the water..."
"The cries of the wild, elf-eating nightsabers" Talrendis interrupted, turning to Galapheral and chuckling heartily.
"The ferocious Tal-eating beast of Ashenvale" she retorted, as the two stared tenderly at each other, chuckling fondly.
"We've had some good times together, Galapheral." He reminisced. "With your father too, I still remember when he tried to teach me your druid-stuff." Talrendis chuckled wryly. "How is the old dear, anyway?"
Galapheral sighed deeply at the mention of her father. The adoring, devoted father who had given up ten thousand years of his life to secretly teach her his druidism behind the Circle's back, the father who had risked his own life for her, who had cared for her all these years.
"He's... the man he always was, Tal. I saw him before I came here..." Galapheral was cut short by the reminder that she may never speak to him again, and she fell silent for a few moments. "He's safe, that's what matters. His home in Feralas will remain safe for a few years more. And I left him under the personal protection of the Feathermoon sentinels..." Galapheral fell silent again as memories of her father came flooding into her mind. She remembered him retorting that if she was ever killed, he'd die of grief. In the light of her current situation, that meaningless jest became suddenly all too harrowing.
Talrendis saw immediately the sadness in Galapheral's eyes, and swiftly brought a hanker chief out and began to dab her eyes.
"Come on Gala, he'll be fine, just you trust me. Even should the orcs attack tomorrow, there's not a chance they'll drop the mightiest druid I know." He comforted as he grinned broadly at her. "Listen to me, you -will- see him again."
Galapheral pulled his arm away from her face, staring at him directly.
"I'm not crying, Tal, I'm big enough to handle this." She exclaimed, but truthfully inside her heart she knew this was more than she could bear.
"Hey, there goes a fish!" Talrendis cried, pointing into the waters, trying to change the subject. There was no fish, and Galapheral knew it. She knew he was just trying to draw her attention away from where this thought-chain would inevitably take her, take them. He was doing what he always did, trying to make people happier.
"Tal, you really are the sweetest person I've ever met, you know that?" She admitted caringly. Talrendis looked quite surprised, and stuttered at such a bold comment.
"And you're really the most beaut- I mean caring person I've ever met, Galapheral." Talrendis blushed bright purple, and coughed deliberately after his mistake, looking away into the forest. Galapheral could do nothing but smile adoringly at his slip of the tongue, and decided not to make a point of it.
Talrendis slowly turned back, and the two stared straight at each other for several long minutes. Galapheral's eyes shone with love and affection that could never be expressed, her brow dipping sorrowfully as she knew she would never have the time to say how she felt about him. Talrendis' jaw lay unwittingly open as he stared dotingly at Galapheral, love-stricken and drugged by her gaze. Before either one of them had noticed it, their faces had edged within an inch of each other's, then in a bold leap of love-guided faith Talrendis closed the inch, bringing his lips softly up against hers. The pair spent the next minute absolved in each other's enticing trance, intoxicated by the final realisation of each other's adoration, as they blissfully allowed their lips to mingle.
Finally a bird cry brought them both out of the trance, and the two moved their heads slowly away from each other again.
"What was that for?" asked Galapheral dubiously.
"Seven thousand years of friendship" replied Talrendis with an adoring smile.
Galapheral raised a hand to gently caress his face, then turned away and looked out over the azure-glowing waters, sighing a sigh of sorrow, regret, and contentment. Together the two sat, looking on as the night withered away into morning.
* * * * * *
That morning the village was awoke by the resonance of horns, clatter of arms and weeping of the earth as it graced Astranaar with its last hours of free light. The west gate was a sea of bodies, the wounded and injured sitting or lying in glum spirits as they awaited the next Sentinel escort to Darkshore. The east gate was drowned in a wave of wood, braces, and flimsy palisade as the defenders desperately added as many layers of defence as was possible. In the centre of the village, the longhouse overlooking the pier was ablaze with commotion, as what stood by way of 'leadership' planned and premeditated the oncoming assault.
Inside the pier-house Raene Wolfrunner stamped noisily on the floor as she leaned aggressively over the map-table, glaring one by one at the others standing around. Looking on uneasily were Su'ura Swiftarrow, commander of Silverwing Grove, Faldreas Goeth'shael, the wise and loyal druid who had tended the gardens of Ashenvale for millennia, Pelturas Whitemoon, the appointed spokesman for the village's people, and Galapheral, who leant anxiously against the back wall, observing the others' debate intently.
"We can't seal off the whole damn valley, Su'ura." Snapped Raene. "The northern corridor is infested with furbolgs, they won't flank us that way, and the southern side of the lake is exposed to our archers from the pier-house, they'd be slaughtered if they assaulted that way. We need to focus our efforts on the main eastern gate."
She leaned back, taking her weight off the table as she was nodded at by the surrounding convocation. Then Su'ura Swiftarrow stepped forward, gesturing to the lands around the village.
"There are a hundred different ways the enemy could flank us, and look what lies beyond - Maestra's, Auberdine, all are totally defenceless. Even should we survive the ensuing onslaught, we can't prevent being overrun eventually. We must all fall back to Darnassus before we're slaughtered -" She argued, before being violently interrupted by Faldreas.
"Darnassus! I fear you have been Commander all too few a number of years, Su'ura. You would surrender the last lands we hold of our old empire, to hide in a 10 year old loft that transgresses nature itself? I will never leave this forest!" Shouted Faldreas, as he was accompanied by mumbles of agreement and even some clapping from the elves in the background.
"Quiet, both of you!" Snapped Raene as she motioned for silence, then turned to Pelturas, smiling civilly. "Pelturas, you know the people. It is the Sentinels' job to defend this village to the death, but I need to know if we have a people to save. How fare their spirits?"
Pelturas grimaced, and looked out the doorway at the bustle of his people preparing to flee.
"Not good, I'm afraid Raene. They're scared, some share your spirit to die fighting for our lands, others just want this nightmare to end." He spoke, looking Raene straight in the eye. He then straightened his shoulders back, adopting a formal, perhaps even military stance, looking around resolutely at the convocation.
"They are ready to die for their homes, if it comes to it, Raene."
The ancient huntress nodded, smiling at Pelturas. Then turned again to Su'ura.
"I need numbers. How many of your sentinels survived the assault on Silverwing Grove?"
Su'ura heaved a great sigh, leaning her weight onto her glaive as she spoke.
"13. Plus the 20 we got as reinforcements from Darnassus. That's all I can give you."
Raene looked down grimly at the map as Su'ura spoke, then fell silent awhile in thought. Finally she turned to Galapheral, gesturing for her to step forward.
"Galapheral, these lands have been your home since before the War of the Ancients, I need to know: Is there anything else, anything at all that we can use?"
Galapheral pulled her weight away from the wall, and approached the map table slowly. She looked her old friend straight in the eye, shaking her head bleakly.
"No. The orcs attacked Raynewood Retreat a week ago, the dryads were all butchered. Since the corruption the furbolgs are nothing more than wild animals, and the treants are too few in number. Our only chance is to stand with the force we've got."
Raene sighed and hammered the desk in anger, the turning away and running her fingers through her hair anxiously.
"There's got to be something." She whispered to herself.
"What about the barrow dens? Are there any druids still asleep?" She quizzed as she spun around, looking at Galapheral and Faldreas, who both gave each other a mournful glance.
"None, Raene." Answered Galapheral.
"All the barrow dens have either been corrupted or destroyed by the orcs, the only dens left are too far north, we'd never wake them in time."
Raene buried her head in her hands, staggering slowly to the balcony overlooking the lake, where she stood still for several long, arduous minutes. Then finally turned around, stared at convocation with a resolute and determined look.
"Then it looks like we have no way out of this. We fight here, with what and whom we have." She ordered authoratively. "Go prepare. I expect each and every one of you to be ready to fight come nightfall." Raene then turned, looking back out over the lake. Korra cowered down on the floor in the corner, staring uneasily at her mistress. Whatever affected Raene affected Korra too. Galapheral saw it immediately, waiting for the others to vacate the room before strolling up to her old friend, and putting an arm gently over her shoulder. The two stood there for awhile, thinking about Astranaar, about their memories, no words needed saying.
After several long minutes of contemplation, Galapheral rubbed her friend's shoulder gently, before turning to leave. She felt Korra's soft snout nuzzle her hand as passed, and she knelt down to face the faithful beast. Korra's deep, pearl eyes glinted with melancholy, that sorrowful glimmer that sung of loss. Galapheral stroked her patterned face softly, meeting the gloomy gaze with a loving smile.
"Now you be good, do you hear? You stick with Raene, you keep her safe. If this is goodbye, then know that Raene could never have asked for a better guardian. Be good, Korra." She whispered gently. Korra leaned forward and nuzzled her face into Galapheral's, and the two exchanged memories. Eventually the old druid rose, gave the faithful feline one last stroke, then turned and walked out onto the street, leaving Raene and her dependable companion to grieve alone.
Galapheral got no further than the bottom of the pier-house steps before giving into the inexorable notion of impending destruction. She sighed mournfully, leaning down to sit on the bottom step, looking around at the village. People were still running around, each pursuing their own doomed attempts at forestalling the inevitable. Each carrying the flicker of hope in their eyes, barely detectable behind the overwhelming glower of desperation and fear. Galapheral was struck by the sudden realisation that she barely knew any of them. There was a time when she knew the faces of every single household in the valley, but many of those had moved away, and many had finally spent the time allowed them in life. Now the valley was inhabited by a younger generation, a generation who don't remember the times when demons swarmed the halls of the capital, when the Kaldorei owed everything to the sacrifices of Malorne and the dragonflights. A generation to whom the betrayer is nothing more than a story, an ancient piece of history to be recited and learned, but not a memory. Galapheral was too old, a remnant of a bygone age, she had lived her time and lived it to the full, perhaps it was at last time for her to join the balance, she thought as she watched and waited. And then as always something interrupted, some minor interference that disrupted her line of thought and brought her back to the present. This time it was a scout returning from the forest, stepping past her on his way up the stairs to Raene. Galapheral sighed again, then decided there was time yet to make a difference. Slowly she rose from her step and moved over to a sentinel huntress who was struggling with rope to hold tight a barricade. She stopped as she saw the old druid approach, dropping the rope and saluting her superior.
"Ishnu'alah, Elder" she muttered, expecting to be given some other seemingly pointless assignment. Instead she was greeted by a warm smile as the druid rested an arm on her shoulder.
"At ease, huntress. I'm just here to talk." Soothed Galapheral as she looked into the sentinel's eyes. "Tell me, where were you born?"
"Er, to the north, ma'am, in Darkshore." Answered the sentinel, looking quite perturbed.
"Are your parents still alive?" Quizzed the druid, being forthright without being imposing.
"Er, no, ma'am. They both perished in the fight against Archimonde."
"I see, I too lost someone special in that war. But tell me, do you have children?"
"No, ma'am." Answered the sentinel abruptly, now acting quite confused.
"Then what makes you fight? If you were to die today, what would it be for?" Pressed the druid.
"Defence of our lands ma'am, or so the commander says. I don't really have anyone to fight for, not anymore."
"Then tell me, what is your heart's greatest desire?"
"Greatest desire? I... I shouldn't really be saying this, but I met this druid several years ago, he never notices me though..." Galapheral cut the sentinel short.
"Then fight for him. Fight for his defence, his freedom, for your love. And if the balance takes you, go knowing that you died defending the thing most dear to you."
Galapheral patted the sentinel's shoulder, then turned and walked away briskly, without giving her a chance to respond. She smiled to herself as she left, knowing that when that sentinel faces battle, she'll fight with renewed morale.
After several hours of speaking to other soldiers, giving them each their own goal to die for, Galapheral looked to the sky, judging the position of the sun. She wondered if there was time for one last walk through the vale, one last journey through her memories, but there wasn't. The day was withering away fast, and sunset was creeping up on the elves like a stalker from the shadows, bringing with it the promise of death and devastation. She wondered suddenly where Talrendis was, and turned around to see him helping load the dead and wounded onto carriages to be taken west. Briefly she considered distracting him, asking him to reserve the last half hour of daylight, the last half hour of his life for her, and she knew he would, he would sacrifice anything if she asked it, but Astranaar and its people came first. Love's boundless aspirations would have to be contained, just this once. Slowly she turned and looked toward the Moonwell, where Faldreas was knelt, reciting his vows. Galapheral sighed, looking around for people to help, defences to fix, and saw several. Some shadowed and undeniable flicker at the back of her mind held off the compulsion to go help, to do her duty, to be selfless, and reminded her of her father's advice. His warm, inviting face that promised of safety and belonging, whispering the words to her as a child. "Always make sacrifices to help others, my dear, but please, always remember to see to your own needs, don't go wanting, your mother wouldn't have wanted that..." Galapheral couldn't help but mutter his name under her breath, and snatched at the air as the memory came back to her. Her father had spoken those words to her on the night after her mother's death, the third night of the war of the ancients, the night both their hearts had been wrenched in two. Galapheral had been but a child, and after ten thousand years had lost all but a few memories of her mother. Why that memory had annoyingly thrust itself into her mind at that moment she didn't know, but it touched her more than she would have expected. She looked around once more at the wounded, at the sentinels still building palisade, then shook her head and made for the banks of the lake. There she sat and pondered, recalling what she could of her mother, and recalling the years spent with her father, and then of course Tal... where did he fit in all this? How long had he loved her? How long had she loved him? What could they have been if they hadn't been so afraid to tell each other... so many questions, they flooded over her like insects, swarming and overwhelming her mind. She had so much left to do, so much more to give, she thought that after ten millennia she'd be ready to die, ready to exhale her last breath and finally join the balance, but now she realised she was no more ready than the children. She turned back, looking at Tal who was now dressing the wounds of the injured, and was ashamed of her personal indulgence at a time like this. She had to go help, this was selfish, and hurtful besides.
She spent another five minutes staring at the water, glaring at its incandescent glow and its methodical rippling, finally she lowered her finger and flicked the water gentle, creating a series of ripples spreading outward. She thought about how easily the world could be influenced by the smallest actions, but dismissed the chain of thought before it dragged her down into another session of philosophy and self reflection. It was time to help others, now. She whispered goodbye to the waters by which she'd sat and contemplated all her life, then turned back into the bustle of preparations.
She had been tending to the injured barely 10 minutes before the sentinel commander's trumpet sounded, and Raene Wolfrunner was seen striding proudly out of the pier-house to stand in the centre of the village. Sentinels from all around abandoned their efforts and gathered around her, organising themselves into the groups decided beforehand. The 20 reinforcements from Darnassus stood in ordered formation, with Sentinel Captain Melthia standing at their head. Next to them stood the 13 survivors from Silverwing Hold, most had bandages and some even missing ligaments, but they nonetheless stood resolute behind Su'ura Swiftrunner, their honoured commander who stood now with both her glaives drawn, and fierce war paint adorning her face. To the side was a small collection of druids, villagers who had taken up arms, headed by Faldreas Goeth'shael. None were armed, barely any were trained. In the eyes of the sentinels they were hopeless, but each and every one had chosen to die fighting rather than give Astranaar to the orcs. Galapheral and Talrendis met each other in the road, and made their way to stand behind Faldreas. Again the horn sounded, as Raene called for silence and began her speech.
"Captain Melthia, you lead the largest and freshest division, and therefore it is your job to hold the gates. You and your sentinels will hold the barricades until the last possible moment, then follow your orders as we discussed last night." Ordered Raene with authority, and was responded to with a sharp salute from Melthia and her sentinels as she lead them off to the eastern gate. Raene saluted back, then turned to Su'ura.
"Commander Su'ura Swiftrunner, as the most experienced soldier here and leader of the remaining Silverwings, it is your job to be second line of defence. Once the barricades are broken, Melthia's division will be relying on you to be there watching their backs as they reform. Avenge your fallen sisters, my old friend." Raene smiled and nodded formally at the sentinel commander, who saluted in turn, then lead what remained of her battered force into position. Finally Raene turned to Faldreas and his band of druids and villagers.
"Faldreas, you may not lead any soldiers, but you have on your side several powerful druids, including the esteemed Galapheral Whisperbough. Together you are the village's final line of defence. Fight well in the eyes of Elune, my old friends." Raene bowed before them, smiling in particular to Galapheral and Talrendis. Then saluted and made her way to join Captain Melthia at the gates.
Faldreas and his villagers watched Raene leave with the frightful gaze of a child left alone by its mother, each one still retaining that glimmer of sorrow, that underlying knowledge that the huntress they watched would be dead before the night was out. They stood there for awhile, mute and inanimate, before Galapheral broke the silence, stepping forward then turning to face the group of would-be soldiers.
"If we're going down, we're going to do it with pride. If we're going to die, let's die knowing that for years the Kaldorei will sing of our bravery, and of how but a few defenders held off an army five times their size, how the resolute defenders of Ashenvale forest struck fear into the hearts of the vile orcs with their steel and heroism. Tonight we fight in the eyes of Malorne and Elune, and we shall not falter. For Astranaar!" She shouted as she stared gravely into the eyes of the defenders, who cheered after her, brandishing their makeshift arms valiantly. Faldreas gestured and lead them off to form a line, leaving Galapheral and Talrendis alone.
The two stepped up to each other, Tal opening his arms wide as he always did, Galapheral smiled meekly, striding into him as the two embraced for the last time. Her arms clutched the back of his armour possessively, and he in turn ran his gloved fingers clumsily through her hair. Galapheral buried her head into his chest, as he rested his chin on the top of her head. Although neither of them would show it, both were now crying.
"Fight well, Tal." She muttered, talking into his chest. "If... if we don't speak again, I want you to know I love you."
Talrendis held her tighter, opening his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a stark horn blowing from the eastern gates. As always, their time had been cut short, and this time there would be no later. He let Galapheral go, taking a step away, finally managing to utter the words before turning to leave. "I love you too, my dear."
* * * * * *
The attack didn't come unexpected, the foreboding leviathan of metal and of spear and of reeking flesh had been spotted from miles away, hacking and burning its way through the sanctified forest like a black tide on a crystal beach. Now it stood at the gates of Astranaar, its front lines mocking and taunting the barricaded elves, brandishing their foul arms viciously. A black spectre pushed and forced its way through the ranks to the front, to reveal itself. An orc commander, donned in armour as black as his soul, and surrounded by a pervasive aura of fetid repugnance. It raised a hideous hand and gesticulated across its throat as if slitting it, then thrust its tainted blade into the air, ordering its minions on with a sickening battle shout.
"Lok'tar Ogar! Leave none alive!" It howled, as the horde multitude surged forwards, descending on the elven barricades like a flood over a hovel.
Atop the crude barricades Raene Wolfrunner and Captain Melthia Moonsong watched on with horror, raising their arms to signal the huntresses under their command.
"Archers, take aim..." Cried Raene, as she pulled back the strings on her own bow.
"Take aim... FIRE!" She roared, as the elven defenders let loose a volley of death and laceration upon the front lines of the horde. Several orcs fell forward, their lives snuffed out at the piercing tip of an arrow, but their bodies were soon overrun by a new wave, and then another, and in moments foul axes were hacking away at the crudely constructed barricades.
The elven defenders stood fast, even as fetid axes flung at their feet they held their ground, frenetically firing volley after volley into the horde menace. But the barricades could only hold so long, and soon the orcs were hacking the very foundations of their makeshift wall.
With a harrowing resonance of splintering wood, the middle section collapsed, throwing Melthia and four other sentinels flying forwards to disappear amongst the tide of dark images.
"Fill the breach!" Howled Raene, as the sentinels on sections nearby jumped down to block off the surge of blood crazed orcs, but then another section collapsed, throwing another three sentinels to their deaths. Raene looked down helplessly at the vile creatures attacking her own section of barricade, then knew it was time. Bringing her horn to her mouth she sounded three times, three deafening blows that slew any of the hope remaining in the sentinels' hearts, how could the retreat be sounded so early? What chance had they now?
Desperately the sentinels flung themselves from the crude walls and ran back to safety, as Su'ura Swiftrunner and her remaining Silverwings thrust themselves into the breaches, shields raised as high as their ever-singing spirits they crashed into the horde menace with a heroism and strength of heart that rekindled the fires of hope in those that were fleeing. Their silvery spectral forms dancing like elegant spirits before the horde axes, ever dodging, ever coming back to strike again.
But the horde were too many, slowly the line of silver apparitions was pushed back, back to be joined by Raene and the remains of the sentinel force. Under the fierce command of Su'ura and Raene, the vastly outnumbered fought on, blocking and swinging, dodging and lunging. The inexorable rush of orcs kept on relentlessly, wave after wave, but each new wave had more and more orcish bodies to climb over as tens and tens were cut down by the ever-valiant sentinels.
Galapheral watched on sternly, eyeing the numbers of their own, keeping watch for flanking groups, counting out the distance between the front lines and the villagers. As soon as Raene and her sentinels reached the inn, she decided it was time.
Stepping forward she signalled to the druids around her, and together they began to gesticulate with their arms, muttering ancient incantations under their breath. A green incandescence began to emanate from their arms, and a swirling verdant pearl began to augment in their embrace as they cast. Galapheral flung her arms forward, outstretching them towards the lines of orcs, and the luminescent pearl surged forth like a flame, arcing into the hideous lines of dark forms. The other druids followed her lead, each hurling their own balls of druid fire arcing into the enemy, who began to rear their heads at the torrent of green light surging towards them. The sentinels dropped to the floor, making way for the cascade of druid fire to dissipate through the ranks of the orcish army. Harrowing screams resonated through the valley as the demonic flesh of the vile army was incinerated, row and row of hideous creatures howled and fell to the floor, smote by nature's fury.
Galapheral and her druids repeated, launching another torrent cascading into the orcish horde, but there were too many. For each orc that died three more ran forward in its place, and before long the sentinels were overrun. Soon Su'ura and the last of her Silverwings found themselves flanked, cut off the from the rest of the line. Surrounded by giant beasts she seemed only to grow more infuriated, swinging her massive war glaives around in a whirlwind of death. Three orcs came at her, brandishing axe and hammer, the first swung wildly for her head, but she ducked, leaping forwards and knocking the orc to the floor, her left glaive buried in its chest. The other two flanked her either side, each aiming for her waist. But she was too fast, parrying right attacker with one glaive, and swinging the other down upon the empty head of the left. She then turned her fury on the last attacker, ripping it apart like a sack of wheat. But then more came, and more, the last Silverwing Sentinel was finally felled, leaving Su'ura alone, encircled by a score of vile beasts. Feverishly she fought on, dropping four, five, six of them with ease, but eventually she was caught as six notched blades came for her at once. Somehow she managed to parry four of them, the fifth catching her armour, but the sixth was the final curse.
Su'ura yelped as the wicked blade found a gap in her armour, burying itself into her waist. Faltering momentarily with the pain, more blades sought after her, and soon she was ripped apart.
Talrendis watched on in revulsion as Raene was outflanked. Barely 10 of the defenders remained, slowly being encircled by the orcs.
"For Raene, for Astranaar!" cried Talrendis as he lead his villagers surging into the orc mass. Accompanied by another torrent of druid fire the courageous old soldier fought relentlessly through the ranks of the enemy, freeing Raene's right flank. But the villagers were not soldiers, without armour and without training they were soon torn from their ranks and slain, soon the horde encircled them too, and only the druids stood any chance of escaping. Raene fought on vigilantly, swerving and dodging every attack, but like Su'ura she was soon overwhelmed. Knocked to the floor by a shield bash, she lay at the mercy of the orcs leaping upon her. Howling madly, Korra leapt from his target, careering into the side of the orcs attacking Raene. Madly he tore apart their vile green flesh, then pounced anew. Raene stumbled to her feet, indebted once again to her faithful feline, and once more soared into battle.
But their numbers were dwindling, soon the last villager's life was snuffed out, and the sentinels stood almost alone against the orcs. A clump of orcs broke off for the horde, heading straight for the undefended druids. Galapheral ordered her druids to change target immediately, leaving the sentinels unsupported as the druid fire was redirected to the oncoming attack. Many orcs fell screaming to the ground, but some made it through, tearing into the druids like paper. Faldreas Goeth'shael leapt to avoid an axe, but was too slow. Soon he lay screaming on the ground with a spear penetrating his lungs, and an orc glowering over him, then finally bringing his axe down to lay in Faldreas' skull.
Galapheral thrust all her fury in Faldreas' defence, arcing a torrent of druid fire into the orc, tearing him asunder. But not fast enough to save the village elder. Now she knew it was time. Quickly she fumbled around in her robes for her pouch, the old pouch that she had carried for all the long years of her life, given to her by her father on her first day of druid training. For millennia she had carried it to contain only her most potent druid seeds, and now was the time to use them. Frantically she tipped the seeds out into her hand, under normal circumstances she might have taken a moment to marvel at their beauty, their alluring verdant incandescence that shone like green tinted moonlight, but she hadn't the time. She hastily recited an ancient incantation, then shut her eyes and began to chant, began to channel the ancient ritual that would appeal to nature itself to aid her.
Green luminous light pulsed from out of the ancient druid's hands, then the forest itself began to move, and whisper, and howl. Moments later all manner of forest guardians that had survived the orc's presence began to appear, the last of the treants rallied behind Galapheral, then stomped off to save Raene and the remaining sentinels. Shadumbra, the gigantic ferocious panther that stalked Raynewood Retreat leapt swiftly down from the rooftops, shredding three orcs to pieces, and Sharptalon, the legendary hippogryph of Ashenvale forest swooped down upon the vast horde of aberrations.
For moments the forest and the night elves fought as one, fought in unity and balance against the demonic invaders, but then they began to falter. Cenarius himself couldn't stand against the orcs, and neither could the forest. The treants were the first to fall, their role was peaceful and sacred, not of combat, and they were soon felled. Sharptalon was next, falling screeching to the ground as his wing was perforated, to land and disappear amidst the howling orcs. The sentinel line finally broke, and a wave of orcs burst into the inn, plunging their axes into the chests of the wounded, the helpless and bedridden who weren't lucky enough to be evacuated.
Injured and bloodied, Raene Wolfrunner and the two remaining sentinels staggered back to join Galapheral and the one other druid who was left. Talrendis was trapped, standing against the wall of the pier-house surrounded by orcs. Galapheral screamed to Raene to defend her whilst she launched torrent after torrent of druid fire into Tal's aggressors, but Raene was injured and slowed, the orcs were too fast for her now. Galapheral looked around in dismay, Tal was trapped, Korra was cornered and now herself and Raene had an army of orcs coming at them. It was over.
With all her might she flung out, arcing the druid fire into her attackers, emptying herself of her last reserves, and then it came. The black vile dagger that promised of death and ultimate closure finally found her, piercing through her robes like butter and sliding through her stomach. It wasn't as painful as she had imagined, she didn't scream or yelp, she just stood there, looking down at the dagger lodged inside it. Blood was trickling out of the wound, running down her robes. That'll stain, she thought. Father won't be pleased, he hates it when I visit him with stained robes...
Then her vision began to fade, colours withered away into black and white, somewhere far over she could hear Talrendis screaming, wailing desperately as he tried to fight his way to her, trapped behind a black sea of hideous forms, pushing him back, separating him from saving his love.
Then it came again, an axe this time. Careering into her side, knocking her to the floor. This time it did hurt, it tore through her flesh and severed her lung in two. Galapheral heard thuds as a the putrid horde charged over her body to finish the remaining defenders. She had failed, Astranaar was finished...
All her senses began to fade away from her, she lost sense of time and place, all she could think about was her father, her mother, Tal... Oh dear Tal, if only she'd told him sooner, they could have had so much. But it was over now, it was all over.
Galapheral coughed up thick red blood, then her bloodied mouth let out a soft groan as she exhaled her last breath. Love's divine comforts withered away into dust, crumbling before the demonic might of war, jealousy and hatred. Meaning turned folly as thought faded from her mind, and Galapheral ceased to be.
A thousand miles south on Feathermoon Isle, Falturas Whisperbough fell to his knees, his hands clutching the air. He looked to the north with blurred vision as his eyes filled with tears, his heart wrenching itself from his chest as he felt the lifeforce of his daughter wither, and flicker out.