hathorahbrightwing

[hathorahbrightwing]

[hathorahbrightwing]

The Betrayal

She smiled as she wrote in her journal, as most of the pages now were filled more with love and musings than the emptiness she felt so deeply before. After finishing her entry she wrapped the journal ever so carefully in the custom carrier had made for her. Her initials monogrammed in red letters with a fine black detailing around the edges. In the top right corner lay a single black rose with one red petal still attached. A simple enough detail, though it meant so much to her. In her he found a new love and in him she had found a whole new life she never had imagined. She chuckled softly to herself as she would recall just how much this sort of behavior would encourage a mocking gag noises had she seen the same in the city. A city she should now return to, as it had been about four hours now since he left. She gathered her belongings and made the journey on foot today, all the better to enjoy the woods. The moon shone bright with a halo around it, many called it a tiger’s eye moon. She never did understand it, why not call it a haloed moon? She shrugged to herself as she finally approached the gates to the city.  

As she walked the extravagant bridge just at the entrance to the city her ears perked to the sound of the softest steps…shadowed steps. She laid a hand on the hilts of the blades at her hips with a raised brow

“Show yourself” she said both softly and with a sternness to her voice. She did not like surprises.

“ Relax ya old bag” Dante replied as he emerged from the shadows in front of her

“ Save your blades you might need them” he warned.

She tilted her head to the right slightly with a raised brow yet again waiting for him to explain.

“Tempakuron has been taken, not sure where or why but they came for him a few hours ago…” he sounded somber and reluctant to continue. “ They apparently took him through the portal to the ruins”

With those words her heart fell into her stomach and grew cold as ice as fury and rage began to overtake her.

“WHO?” she replied in a shout or urgency

“ It was Vince, and a huntress. I didn’t see it myself, just heard the whispers in the city. Some say it’s Vince still holding some old grudge.”

She shook her head.

“No he’s been far too quiet for over a year now, he has no reason to come for him now….he never was one to be patient. He would have stuck sooner.” She  thought for a moment “ Besides he despises the Ruins of Lorderan, old demons and such…” She struggled to wrap her mind about what was happening and why.

She gave one nod of her head and he fell back into the shadows as she moved forward into the city blades now in hand. As she passed through she found her own welcoming party. Before her now stood Vince and Mera, a huntress once brought back from the brink of death by Jan. An accomplished huntress in her own right. Her face was silent but his had a devilish lifted on his left cheek.

“Well hello Hathorah, I am sure your birds have whispered to you by now. I am sure you wish to know where he is and why….all in good time. For now why don’t you join us for a stroll. “

His voice was sinister and heartless, just about right for the scum he was but for now she would comply. She had to find him and get him to safety. She nodded and placed her blades back into their sheaths on her hips as they began to walk. Though Vince seemed to have more spring in his step than usual, and given his previous hatred and competition with Tempakuron that made her exercise all caution. He was dangerous and she knew it.

Finally they arrived at the old Scarlet Monastery in Tiristfal Glades. Not far from the ruins, attached to Silvermoon by an arcane teleportation device. Once used as a seat of power for the Scarlet Crusade, nestled into the North Eastern corner of the area, it was now mostly a shell. A few loyalists remain as they always do though they were nothing to fret over. As they walked into the vast entry to the Cathedral, she looked about taking a mental note. Soot there, burning laps there with oil, those could become quite useful. As they passed into the courtyard it was empty, no training dummies…no weapon racks…where had they all gone?

As they approached the massive doors at the entrance to the main Cathedral Vince stopped and turned to face her.

“ When we enter here you will be on your best behavior. No funny business. Understood?”

She nodded “ Open the damn door” she quipped. He offered a conceited smirk as he turned again, opening the doors.

Inside the massive structure red and white tapestries donned the walls and columns which held up the ceiling which was easily thirty or so feet high. Burning torches hung on each side of the eight columns in the middle of the room. A blood red carpet ran from the entrance where she stood to about sixty feet ahead ending at the alter. As her eyes followed the magnificent fabric there he was. Looking drained or drugged he sat tied to a chair in front of the alter. Her hands clenched into fists at her side as Vince leaned into her whispering

“ I’m sure it must pain you terribly to see your lover in such a state…” she looked at her now grinning ear to ear as her cobalt blue eyes widened in terror. “ It hurts even more to know that I am here for you and not him”

Suddenly her world went black as the back of her head exploded with pain.

Slowly she woke with a furrowed brow and rolled her neck with a groan of pain. As she tried to move her other limbs her eyes slowly fluttered open only to find she was now chained to a wooden chair. Her hands behind the chair were now useless and her legs bound in front with far more chain than she could manage to escape from in her current state. As she looked about the room she did not find him, and panic began to set in.As she tried to struggle uselessly against her bindings she heard footsteps from behind her.

“ I promise you whatever pain befalls him you will suffer far greater at my hands!” she yelled angrily.

A soft voice in near a whisper spoke to her, sending such a chill through her body that she knew now that she had not known pain like she was about to.

“You were my friend….my confidant….I trusted you.” Jan’s voice had never sounded so cold and callous before. In that moment she closed her eyes for a moment as she tried to process what was about to happen.

As she opened them Jan, Vince, and the huntress stood before her. She could say nothing, of course what they had done was a betrayal. They both knew that and continued anyway. But now the secret was out and Jan had enlisted a man that she KNEW hated both Hathorah and Tempakuron for past embarrassments. Jan was here for revenge, which given her position in the Priesthood was powerful in itself. She could loose her position, titles, and fortunes if she were to do what Hathorah at this point feared. Was he dead? Alive? Wounded? She dare not ask now……now she must pay or her choices. Now she must endure the consequences of her betrayal.

With a glance over to Vince, Jan nodded and turned to walk away. Leaving him to his own devices. That same evil grin painted on his lips as he rubbed his hands together. As the massive doors closed, Vince leaned down looking her in the eyes. Slowly he ran the tip of his dagger along her jawline.

“He will live, she made sure of that. But in hurting you I hurt him. I win either way.,,,” he whispered menacingly to her

She narrowed her eyes at him and smirked in defiance.

“I’ll see your corpse at my feet before you see mine”

[hathorahbrightwing]

[hathorahbrightwing]

Slowly he ran his fingers in a circular motion on the temples of his head as she stood beside him.

“Relax, just let them say their peace and be done with it” she whispered to him with a smirk on her lips few would be able to see. They stood in the Grand Bazar of Silvermoon, a favorite spot for them to settle in the afternoons and discuss everything from matters of great import to the odd-looking clouds. It made little difference as long as they were together. Their bond now so strong, that the only time they were apart was when he was at home with Jan.  Today as they sat making idle chit chat someone came up to them and began to praise Tempakuron for the culling of Lazzarik and his little minions. He hated the recognition. He hated the praise and the posturing he kept having to do to save face. He just wanted to live his life as simply as possible.

“Thank you, good sir, for your kind words.” he politely interrupted his admirer and smiled as best he could. Luckily for him it worked and the man went about his own business. Hathorah let out a soft chuckle, slowly his head turned towards her with a glare.

“Does my agony amuse you?” he said in a low monotone voice.

“Oh, always my dear, dear friend” she quipped playfully, batting her eyes mockingly at him and they both burst into laughter.

These were how their days went. Hiding their care for one another in plain sight. Months had gone by now and they were closer than ever. The many walls she had constructed for her own protection crumbled under his gaze; they were so very much in love. Though the fact remained that they were on opposite ends of a social ladder and acceptance. He was a paladin, full of life light and hope for the future. She was a Death Knight. An undead abomination to all that the light saw as holy, raised from the grave by the Lich King as his armies of the damned scared the lands. Though they often discussed it, their relationship would always need to be kept secret even if he were to leave Jan. And Jan was an issue in itself, one of the most beloved priestesses in Silvermoon. Much like the city’s sweetheart. None would take it in stride. The match with Jan was smart for many reasons, some political others less so. There were many things she could offer him that Hathorah could never even attempt to do. They had bickered at times about the reality of things, but truthfully, they both knew Hathorah was right when she insisted, he keep his match, she knew just how cruel the world could really be. He had seen battles yes, but not like what would befall him should anyone learn the truth.

Often, they would sneak away in mid-day seeking the shelter of her favorite tree off all on it’s own on the water’s edge. Very few would be able to spot them, the road was far enough away that no passerby’s would see or hear them, and it was close enough to the city to keep up appearances plus it was nearly unreachable unless you swam or held magics Hathorah did, freezing sections of water into an ice walk way. She always snickered as he attempted to walk it without falling over….mainly because he often failed.

It was a fair afternoon in Eversong, nearing sundown as they sit at the base of the favored tree. She sat up with her back to the truck, leaning on it for support as he lay on his side with his head in her lap. Absent mindedly she ran her long thin fingers through his long golden hair as his eyes remained closed. His breathing slow and soft as he slept, she stared off into the sunset with a heavy sigh.

“Temp….it’s time to wake.” She leaned down kissing his head. Slowly he rustled and wiggled until his emerald green eyes opened looking up at her with affection.  Slowly he stretched his body raising his arms above his head before smiling at her and resting a hand on her face. She leaned into him with a silent disappointment that he soon would be gone.

Over the months they had near perfected their deception of the masses as they carried on in secret. Now they were just a few short weeks from marking one year, a milestone neither of them ever expected from the other. Outwardly they were the best of friends, always seen with each other as they protected each other. Hathorah the provocative, outspoken, vixen like bitch of the city who literally would pick a fight at the drop of a feather. He had built up his career becoming a General in the Army of Silvermoon’s Paladins and Conclave of Light. Always known to be a voice of reason, especially with Jan at his side. Nobody really ever did understand what drew them to each other as friends aside from their grievances with Lazzarik, few ever really knew the whole story.  

As she stood up, she reached over grabbing his sheathed blade and buckled it into it’s place on his hip with a soft kiss to his lips. He was now back in his full plate ready for his evening patrol before heading home to Jan.

“I’ll follow in a few hours, tell Jan hello for me. I have a few things I’d like to tend to.” Which as he had now learned meant she wanted to write a bit and maybe sharpen her blades over an open fire…a trick her father had once taught her when she was young. With a smile and a wink off he walked, along her iced walkway headed back for the city.

Neither of them knew that would be the last time they’d lay beneath that tree. Neither had any idea of the eyes that watched them kiss and embrace and then ran back to the city to speak of such an abomination. Neither of them were prepared for the rage they would soon face at the hands of none other than Jan.

[hathorahbrightwing]

Whisked Away

[hathorahbrightwing]

Whisked Away

Slowly he awoke, her keen sense of hearing noticed his yawn and stretch as he woke. She smirked, knowing it would not be long before he joined her on the terrace of her private estate. An estate that she had somehow managed to keep a secret from everyone…even Jan. Tempakuron was not even aware of it until a few weeks after their first kiss. She smiled with a softness that seemed so unlike her as she recalled that afternoon, though in all truth these past few months he had changed her in ways she never would have thought possible.

“Where in the light are you taking me woman?” he shouted over the whipping wind as his teeth chattered from the cold. All his plate and furs proving inadequate for the coldest reaches of the Storm Peaks. Her refuge, her sanctuary away from the world she now knew, her safe house, and her chosen location for solitude. When she had heard of the fall of Arthas, she practically ran here, as if she needed proof of his demise. While scourge still peppered the landscapes and terrorized the creatures they would easily fall and posed little to no real threat. She could not contain her smile as they marched closer and closer to her hidden home. Nestled high above the snowy plains just east of the Terrace of the Makers and North of Camp Tunak’lo she found it to be a perfect location. Though Tempakuron seemed to disagree as he mumbled complaints under his breath, he hated the cold but she loved it. Something about the delicate flakes of snow falling from so high, undamaged and creating a blanket over everything in sight to make it all the same. Making everything…equal.

After a hike of nearly half an hour they reached the gates. Gates standing only about eight feet high, made of what seemed pure dark iron and steel, embellished with small cobalt blue stones hidden within the curls of the iron work.

“We’re here…” she took in a deep breath, she had never even told anyone of this place much less brought them here but they were in a rather precarious situation. She a death Knight, him a paladin and engaged to a High Priestess. IF anyone were to discover them who knows what punishments might befall them both. As they approached the front doors two men came out from the shadows, startling Tempakuron. As he went to draw his blade she held out her hand sternly telling him to stop, and of course he paid attention slowly fed the long golden sword back into it’s sheath.

“Have the preparations been made?” she asked the man on the left

“Yes, my lady, preparations have been made and you have provisions to last upwards of a month.” He bowed his head and kept it down.

“Very good, none are to pass those gates without my say so. Put up the wards and have Velnnah oversee it all. Nobody leaves, nobody enters is that clear?” she said sternly.

“Yes madam”

Tempakuron stood in surprise…” My lady...?” he asked her inquisitively as he raised a brow. This was news to him, she had always been so reserved and private, he never had known much about who she had been before her undeath. She simply gave him a glance over her shoulder with a small shrug, as if this was nothing. As he looked about slowly forms and buildings revealed themselves from the shadows. Rangers and hunters on the rooftops and terraces with bows, rogues along the perimeter, various plate wearing men and women patrolling the expansive grounds. To his right a small Mage Tower could be seen, standing maybe four stories tall. Such unique architecture, the building itself made with dark blue stones, though on each new level there was one ring of red. Frost and Fire perhaps? As they walked forward many buildings could now be seen. To his left what looked like a large greenhouse…here in the Storm Peaks! An intricate stone walk way below his feet lead to an estate greater than his own, standing only three stories tall but made with large black stones, peppered with more blue stones. Various terraces seeming to connect to rooms on the inside with beautifully made rod iron bars, that seem to copy the great gate with their intricate design and gems. Smoke billowing from 3 different stacks from the roof of the estate, that signify fires burning inside to shelter the inhabitants from the cold. As they approached the front doors he noted a crest to the right laid in stone. Fantastically made honestly, work like this would have taken many weeks. Two phoenixes are depicted, with a large shield in the middle hiding the point where the bodies of the two mythical birds’ bodies connect. The bird on the left is a bright red, with cobalt blue eyes. The face depicted as almost angry or in pain, and as he looked down he noticed the talons, the one on the left held a single rose with black petals. Homage to the name Hathorah had once taken. The bird on the right however was different, blacker but still with red hues mixed in. It’s eye fel green like most other Sin’Dorei, and in it’s talon it holds a small rose stem covered in black thorns. On the shield in the middle was the crest itself, a traditional depiction of a proper and noble house. One that would only be bestowed to those with noble blood in their veins, there was no mistaking. This was the crest of Brightwing. The letter B in the middle of the shield in gold, with a dark blood red background and back outline written in an old English style. How she managed to keep this place so hidden even from him was beyond him, though he had come to learn she was never one to be predictable.

With one forceful push she flung open the doors of the estate, warmth escaping into the cold air as the snows blew in to the foyer. As they entered a woman he had not even seen closed the doors. Hathorah walked past the grand staircase and into a room on the left, as he walked in he was welcomed by the warmth of a fire.

Quickly he took a seat in front of the fire and opened his furs to let in the welcome sensation of warmth. The numbness of the cold fading. The cold of course did not affect her in such a way, she was after all undead and had spent much time in Northrend while under the command of the Lich King. As he warmed by the fire she watched as he took in the room. This was her study, a place she would often write. A place she had often written of him.

“Hathorah…how long have you had this place?” he asked quietly as he looked over his shoulder.

“About a year now, since before my attack. “she replied quickly.

“And the crest…who is the other half?” he pointed to the same crest that had been outside that was also above the fire he sat in front of. She sighed heavily, even though it was him she hated to give out her secrets.

“My brother…younger brother. While I was known as the Black Rose he is known as the Black Thorn. We are very close him and I, you will meet him with time. He isn’t one for the cold. He is back in Eversong.”

“Well you are always full of surprises aren’t you. Here I thought you came from a quaint house and came back after your liberation to nothing…. now I find that is rather far from the truth.” He looked around in awe. Finally, stopping as his eyes fell on to her.

“My Father was Erovan Brightwing” she said hesitantly “My real name is Lor’Nei, and I now hold the entire Brightwing estate aside from what my Great Uncle holds as Ranger General.”

Tempakuron sat there a moment as if he had no words to say. Of course, being in the order of light he had heard the name Erovan Brightwing, he had been well known for his feats of courage in the face of such incredible odds. Facing down the scourge with only a single battalion and his daughter at his side. His daughter as well had made a name for herself, though she had not made it into the order, she had great promise and had she lived she would have rivaled Lady Liandrin herself in due time. In the great hall there was a plaque that had been commissioned in honor of those servants of the light that had fallen to Arthas and the scourge as their death and dismay over ran the Sin’Dorei. Her name and that of her father had been on that list.  She will never forget the look on his face as he learned her true heritage.

“Daydreaming again I see” he quipped as he walked out to the terrace wrapped in heavy furs.

“Just memories is all…did you sleep well?”

“I did thank you, will you be alright up here alone?”

She scoffed “Alone? Temp I have a damn battalion with me. I will be fine. I will be back in a week.”

They had agreed to return separately so they did not raise suspicion. They had to be cautious. Jan had some ceremony for the priesthood in Silvermoon to attend with Tempakuron at her side. While it pained Hathorah to know they would be reunited she was content that nobody knew where he had actually been these past three weeks. For all anyone else knew he had been on a meditative training excursion in the Northern reaches of Winterspring. By now most people were used to Hathorah disappearing for weeks at a time, she was after all quite private.

As she re-entered her master bedroom he has just latching the last bits of his armor on. These past few weeks had been so wonderful, they both hated that it had to end. Now they would be back to sneaking about, exchanges coded letters and private messages. Watching Jan enjoy her fiancé in public while Hathorah was left to only to private hideaways and lies. She hated lying to her friend, but in the end, he had given her a piece of herself back. She felt more like Lor’Nei with him. More like the living.

He placed a soft kiss on her cold lips and lay his forehead to hers.

“I will see you in a weeks’ time…for the love of the gods woman do not make me track up here alone to get you.” He teased playfully. After a few moments he tore himself away and walked out the door, meeting with Velnnah, her best magister in the mage tower to be transported back to Eversong. Now left to her own devices for a week. What would she do? She sighed heavily, as she walked back onto the terrace and sat silently.

[hathorahbrightwing]

Turning point

Hours turned to days, days to weeks and weeks to months. With the city in a state of happiness since Lazz had been ejected by force there wasn't much else to do but patrol and talk. Hathorah stayed at his side, as he had requested even though with more time it became more and more difficult to deny her feelings. Though she did her best to hide them she worried that he would see thru her, or worse. That Jan might. Oh the thought was more than she could bare at times, rushing off and hiding in a corner to gather herself. Most of the time he would just watch her run off and return without questioning it. For that alone she was most grateful...and also distrubed by the small pain it gave her. Did he not care? Or did he know and not care, that would be worse. She found herself wondering if he was in the same hell, though she knew it was wishful thinking of course. He was with Jan and she had to remind herself of that each day, control was something Hathorah prided herself on however with each day her self control waned considerably. She had filled six journals in as many months. On occasion claiming she had other matters to attend to so that she didn't have to be near them. To her it felt pathetic, the type of behavior she would normally scoff and turn her nose up to. Now she got it, she understood the way one's heart could turn a world upside down. It was infuriating, annoying, frustrating, and some form of self inflicted pain that she couldn't stop.

It was a bright fall day in Eversong. The leaves turning golden hues, the tempature lowering just enough to leave a chill on the skin. She had been with Jan for the day, it seemed easier and he had no issue with it as he wanted nothing more than Jan's safety. Following her along the merchant's row in a bit of a daze, nodding and smiling at the items Jan chose to show her, making small agreeable comments. " Are you alright dear? you've not seemed yourself for some weeks now." Jan said Hathorah's eyes widened a bit in suprise as she was forced out of her daydream like state. " Oh..um...yes yes, I am fine just a bit out of sorts is all. " she replied, not daring to say what she was really thinking of. And with that Jan only nodded but gave a look that Hathorah knew meant the discussion was not over. Hathorah sighed and continued to follow behind Jan as she shopped, then outside of the city gates to a small pond not far away. As they approached she knew why they were going here...it was his favorite swimming hole, he could often be found here with far less armor on than Hathorah could handle without thinking of what his skin might feel like on hers. She shook her head in a deperate attempt to shake the thought. " Darling!" Jan called out. As they reached the shore line he dove under the water and began to swim towards them, Hathorah followed his form as he glided under the water. Trying her best to turn away. Once he had reached them he climbed out of the water, nothing on but a pair of shorts. Though scars covered much of his body his physice was nothing short of perfection, even for those half his age. Sculpted arms, chissled abdomen, muscular back. Hell he even had the inverted triangle at his hips seeming to point women to just the right spot. They said their hellos and shared a sweet innocent kiss, before he reached over kissing Hathorah on the cheek as he dripped water all over her new boots. Damnit now she'd have to clean them. She looked away as they showed their affections. she heard them whispering, but thought nothing of it, perhaps they were planning tonight's...activities. She didn't care. " Well I have a summons to answer...alone. Hathorah dear will you please keep him company and make sure he doesn't loose track of time...again" Jan snickered. Hathorah simply nodded and took in a deep calming breath. Once Jan was out of earshot he spoke up. " Come on you old bat, and get in here with me. Looks like you need to relax." he huffed. She shook her head faking a smile at him " No thank you." she said coldly, though she could feel rather than hear her voice shake. He raised a single brow at her and without warning she was in his arms and hurled into the water...clothes and all. Damnint now the boots would be ruined! She surfaced gasping for the air and suprise on her face " Temp come on!" She tried to swim for the shore but he moved into her way and she froze. Instictivly she backed away from him trying to look away so that her thoughts wouldn' run away from her. Now he looked suprised...she had never turned away from him looking...what was it? Embarassed? Shy?! Dosile? Perhaps all of the above. All things that are changed only by the heart. He stared at her as they treaded the water, she only dared to catch a glimpse of him here and there but hadn't the nerve to stare back. She was holding on by a thread and he could see it. " Let me pass Temp..." she looked over at him as he eyed her with caution and shook his head no. Instead he treaded towards her " Why do you turn away from me?" he asked. " It's nothing just..let me pass. Please." she replied, though she knew he wasn't buying it. Her heart now pounding in her chest as she dared to think that maybe he felt the same. Even a little. He treaded closer still taking a hand to her chin and turned her face to his and just stared. Holy shit! He does feel the same! She can't imagine what look was plastered all over her face at the realization but at that moment she lost what little bit of dignity she had left. " We can't...we shouldn't. " she shook her head. He smiled and placed a single finger on her lips to silence her. " Hathorah there are many things that should never happen in this world. You make me feel alive!" he sighed " You make me feel things I've never felt with anyone." and with that his lips were on hers and they were treading back in the water as one. Not far behind them was a small waterfall where the river fed the small pond. Her back was against the rocks just to the side of the waterfall, so that their forms would be hidden but they weren't being pounded by the cascading water either. Soon after they were a mess of lips, hands, hair pulling, moans, and sweet nothings. Nobody needed to know she thought to herself, and nobody would. They'd have her head for this. Though for this she was willing to risk it all. She loved him, and now it seemed her loved her in return.

[hathorahbrightwing]

Freedom

" Here here!" she crowds bellowed with glee and excitement with their mugs and glasses raised, Hathorah included. She looked on with a sense of pride as Tempakuron was lifted, still sitting in his chair and carried through the crowds to a table in the middle of the over filled tavern. " To Tempakuron!" she shouted with a wide smile, winking over at him as he blushed. He didn't much care for such attention or praise but because of him she was free. Free to be whomever she chose. Free to pursue a normal life as she wanted to. Her mind wandered a bit to a husband, children, a home in Eversong. Quickly she shook her head sending those thoughts back to where they belonged, trivial to think that she could ever have those things but it was nice to think of. The celebrations carried on into the wee hours of the night and by the time Tempakuron and Hathorah made their way out of the tavern the twinkle of sunrise shown over the horizon. They walked with their arms looped, just as a noble would lead a lady, and while in her blood she was just that she wanted very little to do with that life. He was however very proper, and so of course she indulged her friend. His need to be the white knight as it were. " So my dear friend, how does the savior of the city plan to spend this fine day?" she asked with a chuckle He sighed in response " With a warm bed I do hope!" he turned to look at her with a small playful smirk and they both smiled at each other. At the gates they parted ways, he home to Jan while she headed for the shoreline. Her sanctuary. A small bit of beach on the eastern edge of Eversong with a single large oak tree, a small ways off from the main shore so it was perfect for a night, or day of solitude. Sleep was the last thing on her mind. She sat below the oak, leaning her head against the hard bark and let out a long sigh of reliefe. Lazzarik was gone. No longer would he hold sway in the city again, much less over her of those she loved. Hidden under a small tarp in the corner of her little sanctuary was a small book. A journal. Brown leather cover that looked so worn it could easily pass for twenty years old or more. The pages inside discolored to an off yellow shade with many cornors bent, with only about half of them written on. She opened the journal to the first blank page and began to write with the attached quill and a small vial of ink that sat beside it. She didn't even have to think as the words just poured out of her " He saved me today" " Because of him I now can have purpose of my own choosing" " It was funny to make him more shades of red than any man should ever be" " We walked arm in arm, and I couldn't help but feel affectionate towards him" " I had hoped that we would get some time to just us so I could thank him myself"

After filling three pages worth of her thoughts, she stopped, setting the quill down next to her as she just stared at the written words. All three nearly full of praise, and thanks, and thoughts of Tempakuron. Not one word of the battle itself, nothing about the pain inflicted on her, though minor it still stung like a bitch. Nothing but him. She tilted her head looking at the words still and closed her eyes slowly. No this cannot be. She cannot allow this! Imagine the irony...he frees her body and soul to do whatever she chooses, to be with whomever she chooses, to live a life as she sees fit and yet the only thought in her mind now is how she can't. She can't care for him, not like that. He would never be hers, it was absurd! The man was a paladin, the pinacle of ritiousness in Silvermoon. Hell he got enough trouble befriending her, can you imagine the backlash if he were to love one? Or gods forbid marry one! She slammed her jounal closed and tossed it aside into the sand covering her face. " White knight...that's all it is. Get your head right Lor'Nei..." she sighed trying to convince herself that this was just some phase and with time it would pass. she repeated this to herself over and over and over until finally the words stopped and she was just...there. Peacefully sleeping for the first time in months. No nightmares, no fear, no pain, no hesitation. Just sleep, and dreams...of him and the one thing that in her heart knew could never ever come to fruition.

[hathorahbrightwing]

Ready to fight

It took months for her to heal, and some wounds could not heal completely. She was rail thin. A combination of inability to eat the first week or two and her own despair. Wishing she had died more often than not rather than endure this painful process. Jan stayed at Hathorah's side all those weeks. Caring for her, trying to feed her, offering any comfort Hathorah might need or want. Tempakuron would visit daily to check on her, often staying for some time while they talked and he kept her up to date with the dealings in the city. Especially with Lazzarik. As far as he knew, she had died that night. He boasted about her death as if it were a badge of honor. Mocked how she had finally been brought to her knees, beaten and broken begging for death. Dante would visit sporadically  often staying just a few moments and without more than a hello and goodbye. They had all kept her hidden for two reasons. One of course to allow her to heal and gain back her strength. The other for an upper hand. She had discussed with Tempakruon how she was able to silence Lazzarik's thoughts, her own strengths and weaknesses, and what a harbinger was, and that could be a tactical advantage. If they could figure out a way to use any of that against him he would finally be nothing more than a bad memory. Without his harbingers he was nothing. Without his power he just another set of bones walking the streets. 

After she had gained her strength back and healed enough, rehabilitation began. Finally able to hold her own blades, stand on her own, and at least spar a few times a week. The scar on her neck still fresh, her legs wobbly most of the time and her muscles weak. Her sight though diminished slightly, was still quite sharp. More often than not she would push herself too hard causing shocks of pain, she was determined but too headstrong to be told to slow down. 

" Again!" she shouted from across the field to Tempakuron. Sparring day, a day she always looked forward to. Her pent up rage seemed to eat her from the inside and this was the only way she could release it. Out of breath, weak, sore, sweating and yet eager to fight. Eager to end the nightmare she felt she had caused. He seemed hesitant but he become accustomed to her stubbornness.

" Hathorah there is plenty of time. You are still weak and need to -" she cut him off charging in, her way of telling him to shut up. He quickly raised his shield blocking her attack and stood at the ready. She arrogantly smirked while he looked at her, his eyes telling her to stop. She rushed at him again, quickly he would twirl slamming his shield into her back. Her hands reached to soothe the pain and she glared at him over her shoulder clenching her teeth. 

" You -must- contain this rage if you seek any hope of defeating Lazzarik." he would say to her sharply, as if a father was scolding a child. 

" It makes you careless. Stupid!"

She leaned her head left then right cracking the bones in her neck, stretched out her arms, and finally submitted. 

" Fine...done for the day then." she said hesitantly as she reached to the ground grabbing her belongings.

Since everyone was to think of her dead, she could not show her face as they entered the city again. Her hair no longer dyed black, over the weeks it had faded only leaving the brittle grey behind. Her frame still showing scars was covered completely, much to her disappointment  Full plate. Head to toe this heavy metal armor weighed her down as they walked side by side into the main gate, her cobalt eyes hidden away. They would stroll slowly and calmly down the streets of the city as they made their way back to where she hid. He of course always the gentleman had to walk her in, make sure she had all she needed. As she removed the helm, she looked at him with a reassuring smile.

" I am ready for this, I have to end it. "

As he placed a hand on her shoulder he smiled 

" Not quite my friend, trust me. Don't go rushing off to be the hero...that's my job" he chuckled as he headed for the door bidding her a goodnight. 

Two months had passed. Tempakuron, Jan and Hathorah had continued to brainstorm, spar, train, and attempt to help her control her temper. They now agreed all things were in order for them to make their move. No more hiding. Hathorah could finally show her face again after months of hiding. Excited about her exit from solitude she thought of how others may react. Would Lazzarik be angry or disappointed  Would Vincent be in shock or would he smirk under his mask? Would she loose her dear friends once Lazzarik was dealt with?

The plan was for her to make her appearance as Tempakuron and the others confronted Lazzarik. A shock factor if you will. There was roughly ten versus who knows how many on the row. They had no idea how many were loyal to Lazzarik but they had planned for the worst. Though Hathorah was a woman who appreciated the protection offered by plate she detested the weight of it, how it slowed her down. She often opted for tight, revealing, and promiscuous leather, and this day would be no different. She planned on making a statement.

As she walked up to the men in the bazaar she heard all chatter stop as they turned her heads towards her. She strolled towards them all with a wide smirk, nearly arrogant for those that did not know her. Though Tempakuron had gotten used to her attire, the others seemed in total shock. Her long hair, dyed black again ridding her of the brittle grey. Her top a skin tight black leather top that barely covered her chest, much less anything else. Her pants also black leather with strategically cut holes along her hip area on both sides and a very low waistline. Her boots her favorite knee high leather boots, with a three inch heel and steel buckles. Her look was completed with leather finger-less gloves, and of course her favorite blades. Two identical blades, shorter than a normal sword. Ideal for agile fighters. Each blade had one side smooth and sharp as a razor while the other was jagged like multiple fish hooks in a row. Each blade had scripting etched into the middle of the blade in red,one different than the other. On her left blade it would read " With life comes death." while her right blade would read " With death comes new life". Words her father taught her as a child and to this day she lived by. 

" Well Hathorah, I did say to dress the part but don't you think that is a bit...much?" Tempakuron would say quietly as she joined the group. 

An arrogant smirk still on her face as she stood ready to face her demons. Looking from one man to the next. 

" Ready boys?" she would ask.

With a heavy sigh Tempakuron signaled the men to go. With that they all headed towards the row in a tight formation, Hathorah in the very back hidden form sight as she pulled a bright red mask over her lips and nose to cover her grin. Ready to fight.

[hathorahbrightwing]

Punishment

She never imagined a friendship would blossom with Tempakuron, especially given how they had originally met. To her surprise though, they became the closest of friends. She had defied Lazzarik, she knew at some point he would come for her. Punish her for her actions. But Tempakuron and Jan had welcomed her with open arms. On some level she assumed they must have sympathized with her position, being a prisoner in her own body for all those years only to come here and be a prisoner of her own making. Her own choices had put her here, nothing else. Her arm, though still sore from the poisoned blade, had nearly healed. It served as a reminder that she could still be who she wanted to be. A good person, one that cares, protects, and loves the same as anyone else. Also one that was fearful of her own demons. Hathorah knew that with the addition of Lazzarik's darkness and her own she held from Arthas that she could be a terrible threat. Not just to her enemies but to her loved ones as well. Nobody but her knew the power she possessed and she planned to keep it that way. 

Within weeks Hathorah, Jan, and Tempakuron were inseparable. Where you saw one, you saw at least one other if not all three. She would help Tempakuron think of sweet gestures for Jan, then smile as Jan described her happiness. Often standing near the steps of Wayfarer's watching the water flow from the large fountain that stood in the middle of the Bazzar as they exchanged small talk. They often also found themselves shooing off pests. Those that did not agree with a death knight being so close with a man and woman of the light. It was the pinnacle of immoral behavior. Though the light preached acceptance very few actually practiced it daily. Another complication is that she was now in plain sight all the time, an easy target for anyone that wanted to try. Though she never showed it or even mentioned it, she was always afraid. Afraid Lazzarik would finally come and hurt her in the worst way possible. In her mind this was hurting Tempakuron and Jan. 

Vincent never spoke to her after that day, she thought she had seen him a few times out of the corner of her eye. Lurking in the shadows, watching her, learning her habits, routines, or anything else that could help him kill her. Not a day or even an hour went by where she was not thinking of all the what if's. 

Even with her doubts Hathorah had remained in touch and even friends with Dante, another rogue who had pledged himself to Lazzarik. As far as she was concerned he was no threat, all bark no bite. They would often meet in secret, when she could tear herself away from her friends. Normally along the Eversong coast, watching the waves of the water as they spoke. In her heart, or what was supposed to be her heart she knew Dante would not betray her. Weather it be out of fear of her or repect for her she had no idea. Soon though, she would know his true intentions. 

It was a beautiful winter evening. Hathorah loved the cold. A brisk wind whipping through the leafless trees. The moon a gorgeous blue glow that illuminated the darkest reaches of the woods. The animals still and quiet, staying warm in their nests and homes. The smell of wood burning as a fire kept nearby campers warm. Her ears would perk up as he approached, stepping on sticks and branches snapping them with each step. Looking over her shoulder she would smile at him like always showing the slightest affection.

" You're late my dear."

He would chuckle as he sat next to her taking a heavy breath in and out.

" Woman I am never late, you were just early."

They sat on the ground talking like normal. Nothing seemed off at all. They joked, they laughed, they sighed. They simply enjoyed each other's company.

-SNAP-

They looked at each other, narrowing eyes ever so slightly.

" Well, well, well, isn't this just perfect? Thank you Dante for leading me right to this sniveling little bitch."

Seemed her time had come. Lazzarik had arrived to carry out her punishment, and he had not come alone. Alongside him was of course Vincent, Ruth the death knight that Hathorah despised, and a new face. A male, covered in heavy plate. A male as tall as she had ever seen with arms the width of her own waist. She was outnumbered, and she knew there was no way out. Her only saviors miles away inside the city probably asleep in their warm beds, dreaming of each no doubt. She stood slowly, careful not provoke anything more than what she was already expecting. Lazzarik slowly made his way towards her as Dante slowly backed away leaving her alone to face her death. 

" You cost me that paladin's head! You submitted to me, you do as I say and nothing else. you belong to me!Nobody crosses me and lives to speak of it." his dark raspy voice, suddenly seemed frightening to her, but she did as she always has and always will. She didn't think, and she spat on him. A simple gesture but one of great insult.

A split second. That is all it took for that enormous armored male to make his way to her, slamming her face against the cliff side. She grasped for air, prayed for a slip-up so she could reach her blades and attempt to defend herself. She was pinned. Vincent on her right, Lazzarik on her left, and this beast of a male behind her keeping her arms and body contained just as he wanted to. In her mind she tried to prepare herself for the pain she would no doubt feel. Lazzarik spun his finger at her captor, causing him him to spin her around to face the three of them before slamming her into the rock again sending pain down her back. Her arms now held above her head as Vincent reached down, taking her blades from her boots and tossing them aside before taking off his mask. She finally saw his face for the first time. Short golden hair, clean cute face, dark green eyes, and a glare of hate towards her. Without warning his fist rammed into her side. Then to her face.

It seemed an eternity of fists meeting her body, each more painful than the last. Her nose and mouth full of blood. Her side felt as if it had been ripped open with a dull knife. Her legs beaten and broken by a wooden club. His daggers stabbing her repeatedly. It was ruthless, even by her standards. Eventually she was unrecognizable  Her face swollen. Blacks, blues and reds covered her entire body. Her legs crushed. She couldn't even attempt to walk or even speak at that point. 

Vincent stood still for a moment, she could barely make him out but she knew it was him. He took his dagger and placed it on her throat.Slowly he dug into her neck, slicing right to left. Splitting her skin and muscle. She screamed in agony,tears falling from her swollen eyes. She begged for death. Stopping short of an actual decapitation, they left her there to die. Bleeding from all parts of her body, pain the only thing she could feel. The brown dirt now stained with her blood. She had accepted her fate. She had chosen a path few would have. She chose to protect, and for that she would happily die for. In what she was believed to be her last thought, she prayed that Jan and Tempakuron were safe. 

She awoke days later, in a warm bed surrounded by friendly faces.Jan was weak and  exhausted from pouring so much of her soul into healing Hathorah's wounds. Stitches lined her neck where the dagger had nearly taken her head off. Bandages over every visible inch of her body. While the light could heal many things, on a death knight it could heal very little. Much had to heal on it's own, slowly and painfully. She tried to move but as the pain rushed through her body she stopped. 

" Now, now Hathorah. Rest. Be well. You are safe but you must heal." Jan said to her softly, her tone calming and genuine. As she looked around, finally able to focus her sight she would see all her friends. Jan on her left, sitting at her bedside. Dante to her right, sitting on a stool keeping his distance but his eyes locked on her. Tempakuron standing at the foot of the bed, and for the first time without his armor. She would shake her head 

" He...he left me...he left me" she would painfully force the words from her mouth. Trying to warn her friends that Dante was not to be trusted. 

" He found you Hathorah, he told us everything. He left and came to Jan, then once it was safe he came and got you. Brought you to Jan in the hopes that you would survive.He is the reason you are alive now." Tempakuron spoke softly as well, which was something she had never heard. His voice was normally commanding and strong. 

She moved her gaze to Dante again as he watched her speaking to him without words, his face showing warmth and affection. The same as she had shown him those nights along the coast. She closed her eyes, tears falling from her eyes again. She did not know if she was lucky or not, but she was happy to know her friends were alive and well. She was happy to know that Dante had saved her, and did what he could to make sure she got where she needed to be.

For the first time since her return she felt as if she belonged somewhere, she would even go so far as to say this was now her family. An odd family none the less. A rogue, a death knight, a priestess, and a paladin. Odd yet balanced. With that happy thought she closed her eyes sleeping once again as her body healed from such a violent attack. Her mind finally free of fear, or pain, or worry. She was at peace, and knew that this path was worth the fight.

** I do not own ANY artwork used on this blog **

[hathorahbrightwing]

The downward spiral part 2

As the weeks went by Hathorah could feel those morals she held so dear become...less important. She had almost become numb to violence, lies or deceit. Lazzarik's dealings were more widespread than she had thought and she was right in the middle. He had a number of rogues working for him, most had pledged their services to him in exchange for protection or gold as she had. Dante was a handsome man, though not terribly hard to figure out. Ruth was everything that Hathorah despised, another death knight but that was where the common ground stopped. Then there was Vincent. A tall mysterious rogue who Hathorah had come to like and trust. Never one to say much, but a very direct man. The last thing she had expected was to find a friend among Lazzarik's little minions as she called them.She would report to Lazzarik each day on the Row to get whatever he needed done.He would often offer her multiple choices, play bait, start this fight, attack this person, or gather these items. She would always pick the items. Most of the time it was gathering herbs for his potions or getting him reagents for his spells or whatever. At this point she stopped caring what he needed things for, the gold was more than she had needed already. Now it was just building a stockpile. 

She would see Jan often while she was out to run these errands, of course nobody was the wiser to her dealings. Jan least of all, Hathorah knew Jan saw the innocence in everyone and was not one to think ill at all. They would talk each day, usually about tea or herbs or even some sweet gesture her lover had done for her. Hathorah enjoyed hearing about the sweet gestures, knowing it made her friend happy and knowing that perhaps someday she would be the one telling Jan about something sweet her significant other had done for her. Jan would often ask if there was a man in Hathorah's life, of which the answer was always no, or I don't have time, or that she just wasn't interested which of course she was but that was private. Hathorah was not one to share things she saw as private with anyone. Her feelings and thoughts were her own. 

Eventually Hathorah would find little solace in her previous morals. She cared less and less each day, and to her it was simply the consequences of what she was. She began taking the other options offered to her each day. Pick a fight at the bar. Play bait to get this person here. Make a point to this person to get what was needed out of them. Nobody expected her to be so damned good at it. One thing she had managed to keep through all of her trials was her beauty. Still tall and lean, her hair still long and flowing as it had been the day her father died, her eyes though a different color still seemed to draw her prey in, no matter what her intentions were.  Though below all of this was a new darker side. She had become cold and cruel and selfish. Always wanting more than what she had. Her confidence had morphed into arrogance, and her smile was no longer genuine. She no longer cared of what others thought or said. To her fitting in was a lost cause. Her attire became more and more promiscuous, often leaving little to be imagined in tight leather or barely visible plate. She quickly learned how to use her body and beauty as a weapon, and before long she was the go to girl for anything that required delicacy. Even better than a rogue emerging from the shadows to some. It didn't take long for her to be Lazzarik's favorite, and one of his trusted guards or as he called them his Harbingers.

Each guard or one elevated high enough in his mind would be linked to him. His own powers and darkness seeped into their being, granting them more strength and power. Each harbinger was given a name at the time of their "initiation", and Hathorah's was no surprise. Decay. Her ability to manipulate disease and rot flesh from bone of any being had become a staple of hers. Using it in difficult interrogations  where the captured needed additional motivation.

" Decay, I have a task for you. This is a most sensitive matter and your particular skills would be invaluable. " His dark raspy voice never changing tone or speed. Just monotone, with an occasional lisp. She would nod awaiting the rest of the task and then be on her way. He would snarl as he spoke further.

" Vincent has requested your assistance. Go find him and do whatever is asked of you"

She was puzzled. since when did Lazzarik do favors for anyone? There had to be something more going on here, something that would benefit Lazzarik. She nodded to Lazzarik walking off towards Vincent's usual area. He enjoyed the bar, nearly each day he could be found there, leaning on a railing of the upstairs lounge looking down on the other patrons. She would walk up, standing beside him just smirking as she normally did with him. 

" I need you to get -him- someplace more private." he would whisper to her as he pointed to a familiar face.

It was the same paladin she had gained interest in months ago. Tempakuron, sitting at the bar downstairs casually chatting up all types. Seemingly enjoying himself as he sat still covered in his golden armor, sword on his side and shield on his back. With that Vincent was gone into the shadows waiting for her to do what she did best. Lure a man. She knew what type he would be. He was the hero. All she had to do was play a damsel in distress. She hid her weapons in her knee high leather boots, ruffled up her hair a bit, and headed downstairs. 

She sat on the bar stool right next to him, he glanced briefly but went back to his own conversations. She would tap the bar to get the barkeep's attention.

" Bourbon " she said with the most desperate tone she could muster.

Alcohol didn't affect her the same way as it did most, it took many drinks for her to even begin to feel its effects. As she took the drink in her hands she began her task. Tearing up at the bar and seemingly drinking herself into a stupor. After about four rounds he finally turned to her. 

" Miss, is there something wrong?" he would ask. His voice low yet commanding. 

" I..I just can't believe it! Why me?!" she kept those tears coming, playing him into her hands just as easily as walking down the street. And it got his attention.

" I didn't do anything wrong I just wanted to leave and now he is threatening me, and if I don't meet him I just know he is gonna hurt me! I don't know what to do!" she continued, his eyes now locked on her.

They spoke for some time, he comforted her, offered her advice all of which she shot down as something that would never work.

" What if I were to go with you to meet him hm? Perhaps I can instill some peace between you two and keep you from harm?" he placed his hand on hers, and like that they headed off.

She took him to an area that was being rebuilt in the city, between the main gate and the Royal Exchange. They stood in a doorway for nearly ten minuets just talking, her feeding him lie after lie, pacing the room as if she were nervous. Him trying to fix all the problems he thought she had. Her patients were growing thin, she didn't wish to sit here chatting up someone waiting all day long. Where the hell was Vincent? Then just as a cold breeze shakes the leaves on a tree, there he was. Head to toe in black, daggers in hand dripping in poison. Hathorah knew he meant business, so she quickly stepped out of his way, leaving an open path for him directly to the paladin. No remorse, no care in the world. She was simply doing as she had been told.

The two men exchanged words and threats back and forth as Hathorah stood in the far corner just listening out of bordem. Then her ears perked at a familiar name. Jan. Her only true friend in the whole of Azeroth. 

" What does SHE have to do with any of this?" she would shout, getting both men to turn to her.

" This vile being thinks he can claim her, take her for his own selfishness." replied the paladin.

Hesitation sunk in for the first time in months. Didn't take her long to figure it out. Vincent was a jealous, take all, no prisoners sort. He would kill for what he wanted, which also meant Tempakuron had what he wanted. No more hesitation stopping her but now facing a situation she had no expected as she rushed between the two men, standing in front of Tempakuron. This was the man whom Jan was so excited about. She could not bare the thought of her friend in grief over some petty attempt at a territorial claim. Her voice would be stern and direct as it always was.

" Back of Vince, this one isn't for you to take."

Both men seemed surprised, especially considering her role in all of it. Vincent had probably never expected to see her not only try to stop him but to disobey Lazzarik. Tempakuron, no doubt figuring out she lured him here with the intention of his death, would not have expected her to try and protect him, and he had no idea why. 

" Move bitch or you will get dealt with just the same as him." Vincent growled, thinking it would make her move. 

In one swift motion she reached down pulling her two blades from her boots and stood ready to fight, a smirk on her face. If it came to blows, it would certainly be a good fight. And a good fight it was. 

Hathorah and Tempakuron oddly enough were in sync with each strike Vincent attempted. Both very aware of their surroundings, both skilled fighters, and both with a will that few are ever blessed with.Both strong in their own beliefs and views. For Hathorah her most important rule since childhood was to protect those closest to you by any means, not much different than the oath of a paladin. Jan was the only close anyone she had. They had no choice but to fight as Vincent charged in, though it was not without wounds on both sides. Tempakuron had taken blows though he was covered in plated armor, she did not have that benefit. Vincent's poisoned daggers slashed into her arm sending a rush of pain though her entire body.With one arm now useless to her, she relied on her darker magics and lack of heavy armor to move around quickly.Her eyes turned as black as the night as she began to burn the ground under Vincent's feet, making each step he took excruciating. Her one good arm extended sending her dark magics to his leather armor, rotting it as a flame burns a paper. Eventually he stopped trying, realizing that the two working against one was odds not in his favor.

No doubt he would rush to Lazzarik to report her insubordination. Something she was not looking forward to facing. She knew the consequences but accepted them none the less. Most cases were torture until the accused was broken and beaten within inches of their life. Hathorah had been one of the punishers a time or two, she knew exactly what she was in for. First though she had to tend to the paladin and Jan, make sure they were safe as well as her wounds. After she knew Vincent was gone, she turned to him. His face still and emotionless, looking at her not knowing if she was the enemy or a new friend. Both still out of breath from fighting off Vincent.Her arm bleeding, stinging as the poison seeped into her flesh. 

" He will be back, always is. " she said softly, her face covered in pain.

" Thank you, the odds were against me if it had not been for you stepping in as you did. " he paused thinking a moment " Why did you step in? It's obvious you were part of the ruse in the first place."

She looked at him, choosing her words carefully, making sure her voice did not tremble with fear of what was coming. Her answer was straight and to the point.

" Jan."

He tilted his head looking over her arm, sheathing his blade and setting his shield down beside them. 

" Come, we must see to that arm. I am sure Jan can heal you, making you good as new miss...?" he would smile at her.

Though her face only conveyed her pain she was grateful he seemed to hold no ill-will towards her given the circumstances.

" Hathorah Brightwing." she bowed her head ever so slightly, still keeping her cautious eyes on him. 

" Well let us be off then." He grabbed his shield and walked in front of her motioning for her to follow. She hesitated a moment wondering if he planned putting her in irons or executing her. He paused noticing her hesitation and stood waiting for her, finally she followed and they headed off towards the large fountain in the Bazaar. The same place she had seen Jan each day. It may have not been a new start for her, certainly not a chance to repent for all she had done for Lazzarik, but it was a reason to hope she could try to someday. 

[hathorahbrightwing]

The downward spiral part 1

Lor'Nei had buried her old friend next to the graves of her parents. His headstone reading;

Here lies Landion Glandur. 

Friend, teacher, and family. 

She would visit the graves each day, laying fresh flowers for each of her loved one's graves, speaking to each daily asking for guidance or telling them of some silly conversation he had overheard. Having been alone now for near a year, Lor'Nei had become accustomed to venturing out. Surveying the markets, purchasing an item here and there. Kind exchanges between most of the citizens she ran into, many to her surprise that were kind to her even knowing what she had become. While acceptance was not universal with everyone she had made a few aquiantences. Many of whom were vendors of various goods she would purchase, who had become used to her routines. Same orders each time, without even having to speak it at this point.

From the butcher a small hog, whole of course to use as a target when she practices using her skills in battle. From the old botanist woman, two cases of herbs from Northrend. Lor'Nei had no desire to return there anytime soon. Lastly from the local tailor, one box of assorted cloths and leathers she would use to sew in her mother's work space. She seemed rather content in her life now, though the family funds were significant she grew weary of using them. To her all she had of her parents now was her childhood home and the fortune they had worked so hard for. With each coin she used she felt that she was loosing one more small part of them. eventually she had decided it was time for her to begin her own life. Not one that consisted of just the manor and the market once a week.

She went to various vendors and merchants, inns, bars, and local farms. None willing to offer her work. None willing to have the damned soul scare off their patrons no matter how kind and respectful she was. while she would normally avoid the row at nearly any costs there were a few establishments there that she hesitantly went to looking for work. From the corner of her eye there he was, same location as always. His red and black cloth still as crisp as it had been a year ago along the Eversong shore. The skulls still on his hip, though she had counted more now. His guards still surrounding him as if he were royalty under threat. Perhaps he was a sort of royalty along the row. An area frequented by the scum of Silvermoon, many of which lined the street maticulisly surveying the area to make sure no one could catch them off guard. He of course saw her, glaring with his beady eyes as she made her way along the street going in and out of various buildings. 

"They will never accept you in a citizen's role. One that is supposed to be welcoming and kind and all that other...normal behaviors among you elves."

Her head turned sharply only to see him still standing in the same spot, surrounded by his guards across the road. She would narrow her eyes knowing he had somehow penetrated her conscious mind to speak to her, a violation not taken kindly to. It was something she had become accustomed to with the Lich King, that vile man who had taken all the good from her life and replaced it with pain and loss. The guards were not often seen on the row. She knew that she could pull her blades from their hidden sheathes in her knee high leather boots and slice through his enteroge with little effort and pull the skull from his skeletal body in just a few swift motions. While her confidence had been diminished over the years since her return she never lost any confidence is her abilities to fight, and win. Instead she closed her eyes, concentrating on the voice that had he had placed into her mind forcing it out. Thinking of how that ten thousand strong force of death had broken from the Lich King, remembering the bravery of Tirion Fordring and the forces of light at Light's Hope. With that he fell silent, her eyes opening offering a confident grin to him as she tapped her head.He seemed angered by her arrogant gesture, perhaps angered more that she had managed to silence him. If not angered he had to at least be irritated, and that was enough for her. With that she went about her day, in and out of more buildings throughout the city seeking any work that would welcome her. It seemed to be without an end though as none wished to bring her in to their establishments.

For weeks she would simply walk around the city watching others as she passed them. She even had felt comfortable to take off her hat, her cobalt eyes glowing among all the green in the city. Every now and then she would see another death knight, roaming about usually in full scourge armor. All she had wanted was to be "normal" and continue with a life as close to what she had dreamed of as a child. 

She kept her ears open as she would talk her walks, listening in to the usual meaningless chatter with odd interest. She wanted to be a part of mind numbingly boring chatter. women talking of their lovers in kindness and adoration. Men speaking of their lovers as another notch on their belts, trying to outdo each other's stories. Each time she ran across the old training grounds she would always stop, smiling as she thought of her days here. Leaning on the posts watching from afar as new trainees took their shots or sparred with the watchful eye of their superiors always on them. As the weeks went on her routine had grown more interesting, one paladin in particular had caught her attention. His name was Tempakuron and each time she came across him he was either surrounded by other armored men some paladins, some warriors.Or by one or two women. Normally ones that were very beautiful and lacking in modesty. One woman would almost always be affectionate with him. Another playboy she assumed.

While she had noticed him she was certain he had no idea she was listening, she would walk by him purposely on a regular basis and his eyes never even glanced her way. A shame. He was at least somewhat attractive to her. countless years without any affection from the opposite sex, even though her body never craved it her mind desired it more often than one would think for a death knight. Many thought that because of what she was she held no desires or thoughts for anything remotely close to intimate. His armor a golden light the only shined brighter with the sun. His thick hair long and black that flowed down his back, near the same color she had colored hers in an attempt to blend in. A small amount of facial hair on his chin, teh same midnight hue as his hair, though it looked a bit thinner. It seemed this particular paladin and Lazzarik were far from friends. Tempakuron aimed to rid the city of Lazzarik's antics, while Lazzarik aimed to rid the city of any authority, which of course included paladins. Over time Lor'Nei befriended a few elves she would find useful. One a male rogue named Bronxe, an arrogant one for sure but skillful and one she would be able to use to keep ears on teh row and Lazzarik's dealings. Another was a priestess of the light, her name was Janatheria. Always covered in georgous robes, and smelling of tea leaves and honey. A very kind bubbly woman, oddly enough they got along famously often exchanging that meaningless chatter Lor'Nei desired. Unknowing to either of them how intertwined each would become in their lives.

When she had first begun to venture out,she had decided that Lor'Nei had died that tearful day in Eversong woods. Each and every person she had met would know her as Hathorah, in honor of her mother. Keeping her given name only as a middle name, a significant reminder of who she really was. 

" Lady Hathorah! A pleasure to see you this fair afternoon, how have you been since we last spoke?" 

The smell of tea leaves and honey made her smile, as she would see Janatheria standing on the steps smiling down on her as she walked up.

" I am well Jan, and how have you been? Anything exciting to talk about today?"

Jan would smile wide, obviously more excited that her normally bubbly self.

" I have found a wonderful man!" she exclaimed, a mild red blushing on her cheeks.

They spoke most of that afternoon, Hathorah talking to Jan about her herbs and potions, Jan speaking of her new found love. Hathorah of course would hate to point out that in all the excitement Janatheria completely forgot to mention his name. Once she had returned home she sat on her sofa, leaned into the armrest and just thought. though of what it would be like for someone to love her as it seemed this man loved Jan with a smile on her face. She was happy for her friend. Thinking of how she might achieve such a feat being the recluse she had become.

"I can grant you the respect you more than likely desire and the power you have not yet tapped into. Not to mention plenty of gold to line your purse with."

The whole idea made her somewhat uneasy but she wondered if his offer was true. could he grant her those things without her sacrificing her own morals? Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to help with a few minor things while keeping control of herself. She stood up and headed back out her door towards the row. 

It was late evening by the time she strolled onto the row. Quiet as ever but still many lining the streets, watching her every move as if she were an enemy. She saw him, in the very same spot he always was,near a lamp-post on the eastern side of the street. Still surrounded by his guards as he raised his head glancing in her direction. He almost seemed surprised to see her, but not as surprised as she was to be there. They spoke for a good while, establishing the agreement. Hathorah would work for him willingly, just odd and end type deals. Nothing violent, nothing harmful to another, and nothing at all against a paladin. She would gather supplies, or pick up deliveries. Mediocre type things. He seemed pleased enough with it, as was she. For now.

*** I do not own any artwork used in this blog***

[hathorahbrightwing]

Life in Silvermoon

Adjustment had never been easy for Lor'Nei. She was never one to enjoy change, she was a creature of habit. Same armor, same daily routine, same friends she had always had. Not now though. Since her return she had lost so much. Lost her mother, lost the respect all Brightwing's once held, lost friends, and lost her own confidence. Once a proud outspoken member of the elves now the lowest of low in her city. Lower than the murderers and thieves even. A death knight, one that had her own free will, though still looked down upon by the scum of Azeroth. 

She tried to keep a fairly low profile. Only leaving the manor when needed to gather herbs and flowers. Anything else she would ask Landion to go, just to save her that little bit of dignity. She had become a recluse, fearful of the city's reaction to her presence. 

" You need to mingle Miss Lor'nei, it will be helpful in getting you back into society." said Landion, her only remaining family now. 

With a forced smile and a shake of her head Lor'Nei replied " This..." she hesitated, carefully articulating her words. " This city has been dealt a heavy blow, we as a people were brought near to our knees by the likes of the scourge, a scourge I was a part of. I will never be accepted and even if I am, it would be as a sub-par citizen. Nobody will care of my life before all of this...all they see is my blue eyes and they know all they want to."  

Two years went by like this. Staying in the manor, learning more advanced alchemy from Landion, training in the living area with a makeshift dummy and a wooden sword to blow off steam. The years had not touched her but Landion had already been an old man, lived a hard life after the scourge as many had, and those ten years had not been kind to him. He was nearing two hundred and nintey years of age now, his hair grey and thin, his skin wrinkled and droopy, his eyes looking tired all the time. As time went on and he had become weaker, Lor'nei was forced to venture out more often than she liked. She would wear a hat, long sleeves, long pants, no armor, no weapon. Last thing she wanted was to be viewed as a threat of any kind to those she had sworn to protect those years ago.

She was mindfull of her surroundings, taking a mental picture of each person that crossed into her sight. A kind woman escorting her children through the market, a young male fully armored as if he was headed straight to battle. Forsaken and other undesirables along the row usually in black robes or leather. Using her family funds to stay afloat was suitable for now, she had grown bored in the manor and had hoped for acceptance but remained afraid of what would happen should she show her face. One forsaken in particular had caught her eye. From what she had heard in whispers his name was Lazzarik and he was the most vile, uncontrollable, power hungry warlock most had ever met. Seen with at least three or four bodyguards surrounding him at all times. Not a creature she wanted to have a run in with. 

Knock-Knock-Knock

Three quick raps at the door. Both Lor'Nei and Landion looked up oddly, they had not been expecting company. Landion gently patted her on the shoulder and stood slowly, his bones cracking with old age as he made his way to the door. 

" Might I help you?" he asked the unexpected arrival.

" A message sir, for the lady of the house." he would respond, handing a small parchment to Landion. With a respectfull bow he turned on his heel and left without another word. 

Your presence is requested at the midnight hour in two days time. Come then to the eastern coast of Eversong. Follow the river until it reaches the sea, and there you shall be welcomed as a friend.

She pondered the letter carefully. A trap, the truth, others that shared her worry? She had no idea what to expect, much less who it was that had even sent the parchment. After two days time, and at the midnight hour she arrived at the designated location. She had been wearing her mother's clothes all this time though it was not appropriate attire for what she feared might come from the shadows. Using some old fabrics in her mother's work area she had made herself some black pants, a studded belt, and a black and white tank top style top. She had taken two small sowrds from her father's wooden chest and holstered those to her side, just in case. She stood there, nothing but hte breeze and woodland animals making sounds, looking to the stars. Thinking of what her life would have been like had her and her father made it safety. Thinking of the what-if's.

" Thinking of your future or past woman?"A dark, raspy voice came from behind her. She turned only to see the one being she had not wanted to cross paths with. Lazzarik. Fully clothed in a black and red cloth. Skulls hanging from his belt, his bones showing through various parts of his cloth. His back hunched over, his jaw barely attached to his skull. 

" I have seen you wandering about, trying to hide the cobalt that shines from your eyes. Fearful of your own kin? Worried they will put you down like a rabid dog?" he chuckled in a most sinister way, cracking his neck as he spoke.

" I fear nothing. I simply have no need for kin." Her response short and to the point, face blank, hoping it would not show her uncertainty of the situation. 

" I could make great use of your...skills. I can grant you the respect you more than likely desire and the power you have not yet tapped into. Not to mention plenty of gold to line your purse with." 

With a dismissive hand she shook her head respectfully declining his offer 

"Apologies but I do not believe we are along the same path of life."

With that she returned to her routine, as she liked it. Same routine each day. Wake up at dawn, practice her alchemy alongside her dear friend, keep up with her sword skills with her wooden sword and makeshift dummy in the living area, sewing new clothing or repairing worn clothes. Time continued to pass, her old friendly growing weak and weary from age, barely able to get out his own bed now without assistance. She ventured out more often in his stead. She had dyed her hair now, a midnight black in the hopes it would help her blend in with the crowds.

Before she knew it, her old friend had become unable to even move. Bedridden and tired. He was nearing his end, and she had feared this day even as a child. The day her friend would no longer be there to teach and guide her. She did her best to give him all the comforts anyone could want in such a situation. She had stayed at his side for weeks, reading to him and helping him to write in his journal each night. A habit he had kept for near his entire life. With his dying breath even he was telling her what to write in his journal. His last entry would read;

Alas, my time is ending and I must leave this world. Though behind I shall leave a bright and witty young woman. One that I have taught all her life. I shall forever be in her thoughts and dreams, keeping my promise to guide and teach her for all of her days. 

And with that she was alone again. No family to lean on, no friends to confide in.Alone in the world, and she feared it would remain so for the rest of her days.

[hathorahbrightwing]

Life in the scourge and her return home

Weeks passed. Then months, then years. The fierce young female that had bested her opponents and charged at the scourge without fear was now just as blank and mindless. Her long golden locks now a brittle grey as if the life had been sucked out of it. Her once emerald eye now glowing a bright cobalt blue, and her skin once a dark olive now a dead grey. Her gold armor replaced my black saronite and her weapon replaced with a rune-blade. A death knight is what they had made of her. The polar opposite of what she had trained her life to be, what she had worked so hard for. Gone. Nothing more than a dream lost in the wind now. Her thoughts now filled with his. For years she did his bidding now knowing how much time had passed or how many souls she had taken for him. 

That all was set to change on one single day, during one single battle. The battle for Light's Hope Chapel in the eastern plague lands, not far from Acherus. The scourge's stronghold that floated above the land as a beacon of despair. Along with a force of ten thousand strong Lor'Nei headed towards the chapel, their orders. Murder, decimate, wipe it off the face of Azeroth. With Darion Mograine at the front the mass of death marched for the chapel. No expressions, no words spoke, just death marching with the goal of more death. The forces of light though weak in numbers was strong, and fought well. A long battle ensued though in this battle ten thousand would be released from his hold. Ten thousand souls granted the freedom they had been robbed of. Tirion Fordring, a legend in his own right had somehow managed to free them all. 

After gathering her strength and gaining back her own thoughts only one thought dominated her mind. Returning to her beloved Silvermoon. Surely they would cheer to see the young Brightwing return after her ten year absence. Perhaps she could reunite with her mother. A simple seamstress that had caught her father's heart with little effort. Lor'nei had taken after her mother in many ways. Long golden hair, long legs, her ability to win men's hearts with little to no effort. though she did not posses the same beauty she once had, she knew her mother would recognize her. After a brief talk at the chapel, she was granted passage to see the war-chief of the horde. To pledge her blade to him willingly, and be given passage to her beloved home. Though she had not expected such a greeting. 

" Animal!" screamed one citizen

" Get a rope!" screamed another

Rotten food thrown at her, spat on, insulted. That was her greeting. She kept her calm as she walked into Orgimmar, enduring the embarrassment. Ten years had changed what little she had remembered of this city. She had been only a handful of times with her father. She had been granted a private audience with the war-chief Thrall. A wise orc, known by many as the savior of the orcs and the founder of the Horde. After her brief audience with Thrall, she made her pledge and was granted passage as a member of the Horde. She raced to the zeppelins as fast as she could.One quick ride to the home of the forsaken, and then a simple teleportation to Silvermoon via a magical orb, placed there when the Blood elves and the Banshee queen Sylvanas became allies. 

There it was, home. Silvermoon had changed much as well though she could not help but smile. She raced to her childhood home which laid in the Royal Exchange, an area that had not been decimated by the scourge. Ran to the door, slammed it open and stopped. It was empty. Cobwebs scattered over the old lamps and bookshelves. The couches and chairs covered in white sheets and dust. After cleaning up a bit and putting on one of her mother's old robes she headed into the city, looking for any clues to her mother's whereabouts. She came across an old beggar near the inn, asking for coin, or food, or anything she could offer. She reconized him, he had been a servant in her household, though servants in the Brightwing manor were never treated with anything less than respect and love. As long as she could remember he would take her to the forest and taught her of herbs and their seemingly magical qualities. She crouched down beside him offered him all the coin she had managed to scrape together and asked him if he knew where her mother had gone. He nodded sadly.

" The bright light that was once the Lady Hathorah Brightwing is now faded. Her body rests beside that of her late husband and your own grave young Lor'Nei"

She lowered her head into her knees sobbing, her tears freezing as they fell onto her cheeks. 

" After your father's death and presumably yours as well she fell into a deep depression.." he continued with a somber tone " She refused to leave the house aside from once each day to bring flowers to your graves. After some time she stopped eating, stopped going to the graves, stopped being her. She dismissed the entire household, sent us away. Out of concern we would sneak back in periodically to check on her, try to make her eat or drink anything. One day I went in and found her lifeless in her bed." 

Her world had gone from a ray of hope to despair yet again. Her father dead by the hands of the scourge, her mother dead from a broken heart. Herself not yet dead yet not living. Her returning emotions fighting against the numbness she had known for those ten years. 

" Come home, get you anything you need. Food, drink, clothes. You are the family I have left" she would say to him, trying to smile a little. They both stood walking arm in arm back the Brightwing Manor to start their lives over again. As family.

[hathorahbrightwing]

Life before death

Throughout the city the clangs and grunts could be heard. Training was in session. Rangers and paladin hopefuls alike training to become that which they idolized. Though training in the same area was not without it's own difficulties  as paladins and rangers traditionally were rivals. Always out to outdo one another.

As the paladins would spar and practice combat skills the rangers' arrows would whistle through the wind into wooden dummies in the training courtyard. 

" Straight and true!" a training ranger would shout, boasting about his near perfect shot. 

Nearby was a young female, fierce and fearless of her opponent. She was taller than the others, her legs the length of a goblin's entire body.Her hair gold as the sun and long, leaving a few strands in her face when pulled into a ponytail. Her eyes a deep emerald and her armor scratched and battered, in need of a good cleaning and her voice loud and almost obnoxious. She was sparing one of her fellow trainees, and quite truly besting him at every turn. 

" Well done Brightwing" said one of the paladins. Her name was Lor'Nei Brightwing.She had been training for years now, and was nearing her acceptance into the order.Being A paladin, just as her father was had been her dream since she could remember. Lord Erovan Brightwing, a third cousin to the now ranger general of the Blood elves. The elves that now called themselves the Sin'Dorei, or blood elves, to honor the blood of the fallen at the sunwell, when the once noble prince Arthas brought his undead armies to decimate all who stood in his path. A path that included Silvermoon.A path that Included her and her father.

Whispers from Lorderan had reached Silvermoon quickly. Arthas, the Prince and heir to the great throne had killed the king and was headed for the beloved sunwell with the intention of using it's great power to raise Kel'Thuzad. Everyone had been put on alert and all that were able were to report for duty and prepare the defenses. Within hours Lor'Nei and the other trainees were given posts and orders to defend the city and it's inhabitants at all costs. the rangers were to post on the walls while the paladins were scattered, some outside the gates other within the city itself preparing for war. While many of the trainees were stationed with the walls, Lor'Nei and her father were posted together outside the city in the Eversong woods. Just two days waiting went by when they heard the horns. The enemy had been sighted, and quickly everyone gathered their armor and weapons getting into position. 

The scourge army decimated all life along their path leaving a scar in the land. They all fought passionately, Lor'Nei made quick work of many of them. Her training had not been in vain. With each fall of her blade another scourge would fall, but it did not take long for her and her father to realize they were far outnumbered, and soon would not be able to fight them all off. Before long her and her father were back to back fighting off what they could with the small number of paladins they had left, sweating and becoming tired. It seemed the flow of scourge was never ending. Where one would fall another three would take it's place. It took her a moment to realize her father was no longer at her back, and she became panicked.

" Father!" she screamed, but received no response. She looked all over for what seemed an eternity, hoping to see him fighting. While she did find him, he was no longer fighting. His body limp, his eyes with no life, and his blood spilled. She fell to her knees in the middle of battle clutching his body sobbing. After a brief moment she stood, wiped her tears and picked up her fathers blade. She charged, in a rage. Uncontrolled, ill thought, and alone. One by one again she would slash, bringing down each enemy she could but then just on a hill not but a few years from her was a man on a horse. 

"Arthas" her eyes narrowed as she aimed her charge there, screaming as loud as she ever had. Rage in her eyes and pain in her heart. Just as she was ready to strike she froze. 

" You could prove most useful" said the dark figure she had assumed to be the fallen prince. His hand held upright as all breath left her chest, color left her skin, and what was once warm now was cold as ice. She fell to her knees again but now she was a blank canvas.Her once bright emerald eyes now a cobalt glow. All she had been now lost. all she had hoped to be now a faded dream. All she had fought for, now a lost cause. Slowly she would stand, frost below her feet and a cloud of frost left her mouth as she spoke

" How may I serve our master?"