Embertree Has Fallen
It was a beautiful day in Embertree. The sun had been shining down for another thaw. While Quel’Thalas had been in eternal spring, there was something different about experiencing spring coming. Feeling the warmth on one’s skin after what felt like years of cold gave a new appreciation for what was had. Not a cloud was in the sky, the breeze was gentle, the sun was warm, and the grass was green and fresh.
That is what made it so jarring.
It was a beautiful day, but the day was anything but beautiful. There should have been birds twittering about themselves and deer grazing, but all the animals had fled to the west. Even the horse that Baclen Highstar, Captain of the Guard, rode on was uneasy. It did not want to be beneath its master, riding through the meadows of Embertree. It wanted to flee. It was smarter than Baclen, but Baclen had a job to do.
Before long, the meadows Captain Highstar rode through became a line of people. Civilians had their belongings in bags – some had managed carts – and they were being filtered down the road as fast as they could go. They were being ushered to newly liberated Shallowbrook. What a joke. These people were so tired. They had been occupied by the Kingdom of Quel’Thalas Reborn and as soon as it looked as though they might have their homes back to normal, these creatures – the Black Bloods – manifested like a plague.
Baclen found himself grateful that a good portion of the people had fled to Silvermoon City before, when the self-proclaimed High King had showed up on their doorsteps. Baclen himself had been busy doing what he had to in order to save lives, but at night, whenever he could manage, he had tried his best to smuggle people out of the land. He could only pray to the Light that bandits had not gotten them once they had left Embertree’s borders.
“Captain!” one of his men shouted in greeting.
Baclen yanked on the reins of his horse, halting the steed but hardly calming it. It was restless and paced back and forth, eager to continue.
“We need to move this faster,” Highstar warned. “They’re surging through.”
The few soldiers looked to one another, concern etched on their war-weary faces. “How long?” they dared.
“There is a line of soldiers at the bridge before the Court. Everything east of that has already been overrun.”
One of the soldiers choked back a sound and swiftly cleared his throat. His green eyes were glossed. No doubt he had family in the west. Perhaps Tottenham. Perhaps Magemire. Did it matter? No. Baclen felt a pang of guilt, but there was no time for personal grief. His own family’s home had been in Newstorm and that was likely being crawled over by the corrupted monstrosities presently. It was not a time for grief, it was a time for retreat and survival. That is what Knight-Captain Sunshard would say, and that is what he would agree with.
“Get these people out faster,” Highstar ordered.
“We’re going as fast as—“
“—Yessir!”
“Double time! Come on! Move, move, move!”
The soldiers hurried to do as ordered and Baclen tried to turn his horse back to the west. It whinnied and stomped at the ground in protest, shaking its head and bucking, but eventually his voice soothed it. It took more coaxing but he was able to urge the horse to a trot and then a gallop back along the lines. He needed to check on the last line of defense. He needed to do a full sweep of some of the shops and houses, but there was no time for that. He needed to make sure Vanessa had gotten—
People screamed. Baclen yanked on the reins again to halt his horse. He looked to Embertree Court and his expression slackened with horror. From behind the large estate, purple, pustulous creatures swarmed the white and gold building. They oozed over the pathways leading around the front and back. One of the beasts with large, tattered wings landed on the glistening glass dome of the aviary, raised its tentacle fist, and slammed it down.
They were close. They were too close. And people could see that. What had been a relatively calm line of retreat broke into panic. Baclen tried to shout for calm, but his horse finally betrayed him. The animal bucked, threw the Captain of the Guard off of its back, and dashed towards the west.
As soon as Baclen hit the ground, he felt a sharp pain run down his spine from his head. He had hit something. A rock, perhaps. It hurt and caused a painful sting through his limbs, but he could move and that is all that mattered. He struggled to his feet and drew his sword, shouting to the panicking Embertree citizens even if it was futile.
“GO!! GO TO THE BORDER!! –Where are my men?!” With his sword in hand and his question on the air, he readied himself to move forward and then stopped. Within the ranks of these beasts – these ‘Black Bloods’ – he saw bits of armor. He saw swords on the ground. It was as though his men, the line had disappeared. He heard his men call and shout and scream, but he could not see them.
But it did not matter.
He should have been afraid. He was afraid. He should have ran with the civilians, but that was not his way. He had sworn to Knight-Captain Sunshard to protect Embertree, just as his father before him had done. And his father before him. And his father before him. He was a Highstar, and this was Embertree. This was his home. These were his people.
This was his fight, as hopeless as it looked.
With his sword raised, Baclen stood his ground. He took in a deep breath and let out a war cry. Where the people ran to the west, he ran to the east. He ran towards the Black Bloods. If the last line of defense had been broken through, then he would take its place, solitary or no.
He swung his sword and instantly felt it connect with one of the beasts. It was an odd sensation. He had fought animals, people, and undead. There was less resistance in this corrupted flesh. His word glided through and severed one tentacle. Another swing and it glided through again, severing a limb he could not even fathom what to call. Their name was apt, for their blood was black and it sprayed across his face, causing a burn. He cried out in shock, but there was a fight still to be had.
One after another, Baclen cut down the beasts, and one after another, he dodged the swipes and claws and beats of wings. It was enough to almost give him hope. Foolishly, he felt heroic. There was a euphoric warmth in his heart amidst the burning of his flesh.
But then there was only pain. His body lunged forward and when he looked down, he saw a claw protruding from his armor, through his chest. Black blood, almost like ink deluded in water, spread through the claw and then through his flesh. It was an insurmountable amount of pain. It felt like fire. He felt it crawl through his veins, up his neck, down his limbs. He tightened himself and threw his head back to yell, but no sound came. Instead, there was a gurgle. A roar. A shriek.
Light, he sounded like one of them.
…He sounded like one of them.
The claw was torn from his body and he fell on the grass, facing the west. His vision was blurred, the edges hazy with black and then red. But he could still see the people running. No, they were no longer running. They were not being cut down. They were being absorbed. They were being changed.
He looked to the ground. The grass was so green. It had been such a pleasant day. But he was sure if he looked to the sky, it would not look blue any longer. Not to him.
He had fought to protect the land. Just like his father--…. Just like who? Who had protected the land? What was the land? Who was he? He had been angry and scared. Had he? Hadn’t he? What was he now? Who were these people running? Why was his blood black? Was it always that way? The haze in his vision clouded further. He tasted something rotten in his mouth. He felt his body slithering from within. He felt himself warp.
And then he felt nothing.
Captain of the Guard, Baclen Highstar, is no longer.
@thesunguardmg