It’s a cold night. There’s a fire beside her, half buried in the snow. It warms her toes, but not much else. Though she tries to repress the shivers, her shoulders still tremble ever so slightly. There is no respite to be found under this black sky, her only company the twinkling stars floating an unfathomable distance away. The quiet was her friend this night, as it had been for many nights prior.
It is fitting, perhaps, that silence be one’s confidant when punishment is the chain around their neck. She had spent many nights in silence indeed, her eyes watching the horizon ceaselessly for hours until the rising sun heralded the end of that night’s toil. She would rest then, but little would rouse her aside from her work.
The silence of the night may have been heavy, but the weight of those condemning gazes was crushing.
So few friends among those crowds. Those she had shed blood with where just as easily turned against her by her actions. She had been judged, she had been punished, but the cruelty of her situation only continued to rear its head. What she had been she could never be again. To all those around her, even those she had come to respect, she would always be marked as a fool or a coward.
The fire does as little to warm her heart as it does to warm her extremities.
She huddles in on herself in an attempt to stave off the bitter chill. Though she’s endured cold like this before, never for so long. And this cold, as it breaks upon her cheeks like daggers, tempers the attitudes of those it touches. So few smiles, so little mirth, but more than a fair share of disdain.
But it’s nothing I haven’t endured before, She thinks.
She knows it isn’t true. If only in her head, she tells these lies to sustain herself through the torment. Never may she speak them aloud, but in her heart she knows her words to be false.
Her eyes scan the horizon again. She does not want to be here, the tightening of her cloak around her body attests to that, but she cannot fail in her duty either. Be it punishment or assignment, night watch was her task.
I won’t be insulted again for failing. She clenches her fists tight and narrows her eyes. I won’t give them something else to use against me. I won’t be their laughing stock again.
The fire dims for a moment as the wind kicks up. She tucks her face into her chest for a moment until the breeze passes. Blinking like a newborn fawn, she looks back up and tries her best to get a lock on the horizon again.
How many times had she observed this same spot of land? She’s lost count of the days she’d been assigned to this work. It’s infuriating.
Damn the Archon, She spits in her thoughts, And all the rest of them too. Damn Alliance. Damn war! What did I ever do to deserve this? How is this where doing the right thing lands you? Azeroth preserve me...why am I here?
She lets out a long breath, the steam coiling in front of her face for a moment before vanishing into the frigid atmosphere. She reaches out with her foot and pokes at the fire causing it to flare up for a fraction of a second before returning to its low, steady burn.
All I did was try my best to save our people. I followed the man I believed in. So why am I the villain of this stupid storybook tale? Is it who I am? How low I was born? Would this all just be water under the bridge if I had noble blood like the rest of them?
No, not to the Archon. He’s...he’s a fair man. But the rest of them...
Just thinking about the matter agitates her. She’s reminded of the sneers and insults she’s endured from people she had thought her brothers and sisters in arms. But one choice and she was nothing more than the dirt under their fingernails again. Those men and women of noble birth, how they’d spurned her.
I’m still worth as much as them, She thinks. It doesn’t matter if I own a castle or rule over a city. Right?
Her uncertainty speaks volumes, and it makes her uncomfortable. She shifts closer to the fire in response and tries to focus on her task again. But the droll horizon cannot possibly dissuade her from this line of thought for long. Now that it’s started, it won’t stop.
Doubt had always been her worst trait.
Her thoughts, soon flooded with those painful gazes and spiteful words, only spiral down. Frozen by the ice in her veins, she’s adrift in them without a line to cling to for safety. The fire fades ever more without her attention. Only small licks of flame remain while she contemplates in silence. Crippling silence.
What am I worth if they’d throw me away so quickly?
Consciously, she’s aware of her thoughts. She knows how deep she’ll sink, she’s done it before. That pain will drag her down to the depths. She doesn’t want that, not again.
Through a shaky breath, she pulls herself in again and wraps her cloak over her body as tight as she is able. She shuts her eyes tight, no longer concerned with her punishment. This dreadful feeling has her full attention. Even as she sweats and nearly vomits, she does her best to ease her tension.
In and out. In and out. In and out.
It’s hardly helpful. The fire dims even further.
She’s practically crushing herself under her own weight. She wants these thoughts to go away. She wants that pain to stop.
So she tries to remember.
Hear, She muses. Feel, Think.