(This is a flashback to just after Arthas destroyed Silvermoon City)
When Syche finally woke it was to the smell of her City burning.
It felt as if pain had replaced the blood in her body; flowing through her, reaching every inch of her as she laid in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar place. She struggled against her sheets, though they might as well have been made of lead. The last thing she remembered, before everything went black, was the Scourge closing in, their numbers too many to be stopped.
Firm hands gripped her shoulders, forcing her with gentle pressure back into the bed. "Don't." A stern voice warned. "Your injuries are extensive, but they couldn't spare the healers... What's left of them that is, on anything less than fatal injuries." She'd never heard her Captain sound so despondent.
"Captain..." She breathed, her voice hoarse and soft. "I need to find my father, my brothers-"
"They're gone, Syche." His voice was flat, void of emotion, but she could feel his hand grip her forearm. "We lost... so many. The death toll-" It was as if he could not finish the sentence. Syche felt a rock plummet into the depths of her stomach, and her body began to shake. "It's a miracle you made it, I pulled you out of the wreckage myself." His thumb rubbed a small line of her arm, a subtle sign of comfort she would have never expected from him.
"Elilara?" Her voice cracked as she spoke her sisters name, and Erath'anor's grip on her arm tightened.
"I have not seen her, but the moment I do I will send her to you or come myself." She swallowed a lump in her throat, her sister might still be alive. It was a small comfort but it was something. She turned her face towards him, opening her mouth to ask another question when she realized that though she had opened her eyes nothing but blackness met her.
"I can't see." Panic infected her voice. "Erath'anor, I can't see." Her voice cracked, and she suddenly was very certain she was going to be sick.
"You're eyes are covered, your right one should heal but the left..." His tone dropped, and his grip tightened once more. "Syche I'm so sorry, you'll never see out of your left eye again." He said, and her heart stopped.
"But... How will I fulfill my duties-"
"You won't." He breathed. "You've been honorably discharged, but not before you were awarded the rank Ranger-Commander." So she'd risen a rank, but lost everything in the process. "I tried to reason with the Ranger-General Syche, but a half-blind bowmen can't possibly-"
"But I can!" She interjects, her voice trembling. "I can, Erath'anor, I can learn to live with it! I can-" His grip on her arm went slack, and she could hear him stand.
"What's done is done, it cannot be changed." She felt his fingers graze her cheek, and though it would have thrilled her any other time it left her with nothing but despair now. "I need to report to my post, but I'll be back." She listened as he walked away, the heels of his boots clicking against the hard floor.
Lir'ithil, Raenil, her father, her eyes, her calling, she'd lost everything in one fell swoop. As far as she knew even little Elilara was lying in a ditch somewhere, dead or dying. Her hands gripped the sheets at her sides as an inhuman scream tore it's way out of her.
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