The End of the Hunt
Athaea's entire body was aching. The last few months had been hell on Azeroth for her and the rest of the Watchers. They had chased Illidan and his followers from the coast of Azshara, through the Great Sea, into the Broken Isles, and then again into the Eastern Kingdoms. Athaea had never walked upon this continent, so far away from Kalimdor. The destruction she found here was eerily similar to that left behind by the Legion, after their attack on Mt. Hyjal.
She looked to her sides. She knew all of the faces around her, even those obscured by their Warden helmets. Most of her time in the Watchers was spent alone, patrolling the barrow deeps and the vault, or hunting criminals. But this hunt was unlike any other that had come before it. In this hunt, the Watchers worked together as a unit, trailing behind their ultimate target: Illidan Stormrage.
For every face she recognized, however, there was one more missing. Their losses had been severe, not only because of the treacherous naga and the Illidari, but because of the demons and lost souls of the Broken Isles, and the undead scourge that plagued Lordaeron. And despite their sudden alliance with Kael’thas, and the arrival of Malfurion and Tyrande, Athaea couldn’t shake the feeling of loss.
Even so, there was no regret in her mind. Illidan's imprisonment had given birth to the Watchers and the Wardens. Losing him wounded not only their pride, but their very souls as well. For this hunt, no price was too high to pay, and no distance was too far to walk.
Athaea shifted her weight, fighting off exhaustion. Her cloak was torn, her armor bent and scored from many recent battles. She had escaped death several times already, but she knew that their cause was just, and that Elune would see her through it. This was the Watchers' finest hour. Illidan was cornered within the ruins of Dalaran, and there was nowhere for him to escape. He was using his vile demonic magic for some kind of ritual. They had to act now, and stop the Betrayer from tearing Azeroth asunder once more.
“First Lieutenant Lonelight.” Just a few feet from her stood Anyndra, Maiev Shadowsong's lieutenant. Athaea snapped to attention, her back straight, and waited for her to continue.
“You’ll be leading the warden Silynna Lunarblade, and a small group of watchers. Follow the orders you were given earlier. This is your chance to prove yourself. Rise to the challenge, and Illidan will not escape us this day.” As soon as Anyndra had finished, she pointed toward her squad and walked away. This wasn’t a slight. The watchers were short on time and manpower, so every second was precious. Aware of this, Athaea swiftly approached her comrades-in-arms.
“Sister Lunarblade,” she began. “Watchers. Our orders are clear. We will be one of the spearheads piercing the ruins and breaking through the Illidari forces. We are to eliminate any Illidari we find, and forge a path for the rest of the watchers. They will rendezvous with us when the way is clear. If you are prepared, we will move out immediately.” Athaea tried to keep her voice firm and resolute. The entire plan had already crystallized in her mind, and she was eager to follow it.
“Sister Lonelight, if I may?” Lunarblade spoke up, and waited to be acknowledged. Athaea raised her eyebrows behind her helmet, gesturing for her to continue. “Are you sure that we should launch the attack before additional forces arrive with Malfurion and Kael'thas? With their reinforcements, such a mission would be far less risky.”
Athaea met the warden's eyes, remaining stern. “Our orders are clear, sister. Even a moment's hesitation will jeopardize this entire operation, allowing the Betrayer to grow closer to his vile objectives. We cannot rely on the so-called 'Sin'dorei', nor can we wait for Malfurion to swoop in and rescue us. Our mission here is to finally capture the Betrayer, no matter the risk. If we fail, we do not deserve to be called watchers. Understood?” She turned and began to make her way towards the battlefield, giving Lunarblade no time to voice an objection. The watchers in their squad dispersed, each ready to take part in the plan. Athaea held tightly to her umbra crescent, then made herself relax her grip, conscious of her body betraying any signs of weakness. The women under her command would be watching her closely, and she could not falter. This attack was the culmination of months of sleepless nights and dead ends.
Athaea and her squad used the shadows of the trees for cover as they moved into position, as soundlessly as they could. Several naga stood guard around the perimeter of the ruins, ready to defend their despicable master. Athaea counted two naga myrmidons, conspicuous in their armor, two naga sirens, and one snapdragon. She glanced back at her own squad, and saw that Lunarblade was already in position, along with a huntress and two archers. Though the naga matched them in numbers, the watchers had the element of surprise. And with two wardens among them, their opponents stood little chance.
Athaea signaled to her squad, communicating her plan. Each archer would take one myrmidon, luring them into the trees where the more agile elves could easily outmaneuver them. The huntress would rush the snapdragon, using superior mobility to counter the beast's crippling poison, and keep its attention away from the other kaldorei. Herself and the other warden would blink towards the sirens, and kill or disable them as quickly as possible. The casters were frail, but dangerous. It would only take them a few seconds to get a spell off, and that could prove disastrous. It was a simple plan: divide and conquer. It had worked exceptionally in the past.
Athaea gave the signal to hold, waiting for the ideal moment to strike. Their timing had to be perfect in order for the plan for the work. If one of them engaged the enemy too soon, it would give away their position, and the battlefield would dissolve into chaos. The archers notched their arrows, and the huntress eyed her target with a predatory, calculating expression.
Athaea took a deep breath, sparing a quick prayer to Elune, and then gave her signal. The archers drew and silently loosed their arrows, which made satisfying impacts in the torso of each myrmidon. The strikes were not fatal, but they should be sufficient to lure their targets away from their positions and into the trees.
As the lumbering naga started to slither away in pursuit of the archers, everything came together in a matter of seconds. The huntress pounced upon the snap dragon, the creature screeching in pain as her moonglaive tore through its flesh. The wardens seemed to blink out of existence, moving through time and space at incredible speeds, and reappeared a couple of feet away from the sirens. Athaea's umbra crescent dug past the naga's scales and buried into its neck, silencing it forever. Lunarblade pierced the other siren's chest with her glaive, and was rewarded with a gush of blood as her target fell.
It was all going according to plan-- but as Athaea turned back to the rest of her squad, she realized that was not the case at all. One of the myrmidons was ignoring the arrow in his chest and rushing for the huntress instead. Athaea immediately broke into a desperate sprint, attempting to intercept the brute. Just when it seemed that she might make it, the myrmidon took aim with its trident and hurled it at the huntress's nightsaber, pinning it to the ground. It struggled desperately, yowling, unable to move. The huntress was thrown from her mount, and before she could collect herself, the snapdragon was upon her, its poisoned fangs tearing her apart.
“Lunarblade! The snapdragon!” Athaea called desperately as she launched her attack against the myrmidon, drawing him away from the wounded saber. But before Lunarblade could reach the beast, it launched its deadly spit into the face of one of the elven archers, who collapsed, yelling in pain.
The plan was unraveling quickly, and Athaea knew there was little time. She took one of the poisoned daggers from her belt and thrust it directly into the myrmidon's arm. A small distance away, Lunarblade had managed to cleave through the skull of the snapdragon. The remaining archer was not so lucky. Trapped out in the open without her backup, she panicked. The second myrmidon threw a net at her, and she was too sluggish to move out of the way. She was thrown back against a tree, immobilized, her limbs tangled in the net. Before the wardens could react to save her, he crushed the elf's head with his massive trident, and then turned back to assist his fellow myrmidon.
Athaea was sweating, her arms trembling. She couldn’t fail, not here, not now. She drove the poisoned knife deeper into the arm of the naga brute, and her poison began to take effect. As the beast reacted to the burning sensation inside his veins, Athaea delivered the killing blow to its head with her weapon, slicing his jaw off and crushing his skull with her closed metal fist. She glanced at Lunarblade, who had already thrown several daggers at the approaching myrmidon. She took the chance and rushed into combat once again, striking at the beast's tail, just as Lunarblade flanked him, both the wardens delivering devastating blows to the beast, until he could no longer stand.
“The watchers, we need to help them!” Lunarblade proclaimed, moving toward the fallen huntress. Athaea glanced at the three lifeless elves, and then at the body of the nightsaber. She sighed, gritting her teeth. She approached Lunarblade and grabbed her shoulder.
“We don’t have time for this, Lunarblade. They knew the risks, and they died for the hunt. Their sacrifice will only be meaningless if we fail. Nothing else matters!” She rebuked the younger warden, pulling her back forcefully. Lunarblade's only response was an angry glare as she moved away from the body. Just as Athaea was about to take a deep breath, she felt a painful stab in her side. There was a sudden rush of cold around the impact, and she immediately looked in the direction from which the blow had come.
“Land-born ssscum!” A gigantic naga approached from the ruins, even larger than the myrmidon. It was a Royal Guard, entrusted to defend the pathways into the ruins. Athaea realized that she had been hit by a frost bolt, and she knelt in pain, the cold nearly unbearable. While her armor had absorbed most of the impact, she felt her body cooling down, her focus diverted.
“We need to take the royal guard down, now!” Athaea screamed, trying to get her heart pumping to warm up her body once more. She reached to her belt, grabbing and throwing several poisoned daggers at the approaching naga, but he hardly seemed to react, his approach not slowed in the slightest. Lunarblade attempted a direct assault, blinking through the distance between them and trying to intercept the beast, appearing behind him.
“I won’t let you kill any more kaldorei this day, foul beast!” Lunarblade cried, her glaive piercing the naga's tail. Athaea finally managed to recover, and dashed into the fight as quickly as she could. But before she could reach them, the Royal Guard and Lunarblade had already come to blows. The naga was much stronger than the warden, making parrying almost impossible. Instead, she gracefully dodged his every strike, piercing his flesh whenever she had the opportunity.
“Lonelight, stay back! You aren’t in fighting shape!” Lunarblade warned. But Athaea ignored her, swinging her umbra crescent and delivering a slash towards the naga. He still stood tall, barely seeming to be aware of his wounds. He instead delivered a lumbering strike at Athaea, hitting her with the blunt end of his trident and sending her flying back several feet. Her head rang as she landed on the hard ground, and she knew she had to get back to her feet at any cost. Lunarblade sprinted to the fallen warden, helping her get up.
“Lieutenant, you have to retreat! I’ll hold him ba-” Her words came to a sudden halt as the myrmidon's trident burst through her rib cage, through both sides of her armor. Athaea was covered with the warden's blood, only a few inches away as she watched everything unravel. Her first instinct was to vomit at the grotesque sight, but she knew she had to keep fighting. Instead, she pulled the trident to the side and thrust her umbra crescent forward, which crashed directly into the naga's chest between his ribs, forcing him to back away as he gasped for air.
As he let go of his trident, Lunarblade's body slumped slowly to the ground. With a swift movement, Athaea sliced the creature's head in half, finally defeating her foe. Her muscles were in agony, her mind exhausted. The realization that she was the last one alive of her squad slowly dawned upon her. She looked at the body of every kaldorei around her, coughing. She knew that the image would be seared into her memory forever. Her stomach churned as she regarded the state of Silynna Lunarblade's corpse. She felt like throwing up again, her lips trembling. Even if she had killed all the naga, she had lost everyone under her command. She closed her eyes, trying to gather her thoughts.
As she slowly opened her eyes and looked toward the ruins once more, she saw a sudden blur approaching, almost like a purple wraith. Before she could react, that wraith rushed toward her, slamming into her. As the blur gained a defined shape, Athaea saw a female kaldorei right in front of her, pressing a large blade against her armored chest. Glowing green tattoos, darkened horns on her head... Then it clicked; a demon hunter had found her. And she was there to finish the warden once and for all. The Illidari's warglaive dug into her armor, splitting it into pieces, and finally connected with her flesh. Those seconds felt like an eternity for Athaea, as she watched the warglaive dig into her flesh and through her rib cage, eventually shattering her sternum. She didn’t feel the pain right away, but instead a sort of numbness, as if she were watching it all happen to someone else.
Athaea was thrown back, collapsing. She desperately gasped for air, struggling to stay alive. A coughing fit set in, and she felt the warm, coppery taste of blood filling her mouth. Her consciousness was fading, and quickly. She looked up at the sky, trying to find guidance from Elune, but her vision soon became too blurry for her to make out the shining stars above.
As she came to grips with her situation, all she could feel was shame. Regret. She had failed her mission, and she had abandoned the watchers in their moment of greatest need. And now her hunt would be forever unfinished.
The warden then felt something grab her feet. She saw the sky moving above her, felt the ground moving beneath her. Someone was dragging her. Soon the sky was obscured by tree cover, and she finally lost consciousness.
Athaea's eyes snapped open, and her chest heaved for air. A lacerating pain spread through her torso like fire, but all she could do was whine in pain. She looked around and saw a kaldorei man just above her, administering his druidic magic to her open wound. The warden tried to form words, but all that came forth were coughs and groans.
“Stay quiet, warden. You have to preserve your strength. You came awfully close to dying. If we hadn’t found you hidden by the trees when we did, you would’ve surely perished like the rest of the watchers with you.” Athaea's head was flooded with thoughts, stabbing like daggers, accompanying the burning pain that had now spread through her entire body.
“You are safe now. We returned you to our main base. The bulk of our forces are assaulting Illidan's stronghold, and he’s fighting a losing battle. He should be defeated at any moment now.” Athaea could feel herself start to panic. She couldn’t afford to lay here, dying, as the rest of the watchers neared the end of their hunt. She reached for the druid with a battered arm, trying to grab him, but her vision grew blurry and she failed, instead snatching at the air next to him.
“You are not leaving my watch,” he said sternly. “Not under any circumstances. We were lucky to have found your body at all. The wardens passed right by you, and then entered the ruins moments before we arrived. They are deep into the battle now.” He paused, then added firmly, “You are in no shape to even stand on your own.” As he spoke, Athaea began to feel light-headed. All the effort she had just put forth had been ultimately fruitless, and in her fragile state, the thought seemed overwhelming. She coughed, trying to think of something to say, to plead with the druid, but her consciousness began fading.
It took several days for Athaea Lonelight to wake up again, and under far different circumstances. Illidan had escaped into Outland, and many of the watchers had chased him into the unknown world. But not Athaea. She was bed-bound, unable to move much more than her eyes and her mouth. Not long after, she returned to Kalimdor with Malfurion and Tyrande's forces. It would be several months before she even stood on her own feet again.
Lying awake in her bed, Athaea could no longer escape her own thoughts. She could not devote her focus to her next target, or distract herself with the need for vengeance, or justify the hate inside of her by focusing it on the hunt. She was forced to face herself and all the choices that led her to this point, silent and alone.
She was not aware at the time of the change that was coming over her, but it happened slowly and surely. After that hunt, Athaea would never be the same again.
((Many thanks to http://liettarosewood.tumblr.com/ for editing this story for me!))
