Amongst the winds of Northrend lay a region embedded and practically shining with the arcane magic it possessed—its radiance reflected off of the very lands, giving it an ethereal glow. Denfehlath lurked within this region—the lands of Crystalsong Forest.
She was there for a fairly simply reason—to conduct research regarding a recent experiment of hers. Her eyes flitted over the Azure Front, and the arcane-tainted trees that glowed seemingly brighter than the two moons. Giving a quiet sigh, she rested a hand on her satchel, pulling out some parchment and looking the writing on it over carefully.
After the parchment had been set down upon the grass, she withdrew a tome, its cover fraught with sigils and runes alike. Opening it to a dog-eared page, she looked over the notes she had once written within the margins—notes detailing the creation of a fireball embedded with arcane energy, similar to the more commonly-known frostfire bolt. This bolt in itself had no name, other than “some sort of crazy idea”.
Within such a concentrated area of arcane—it was no wonder that the city of Dalaran lurked above the area—Fehl had thought that it would do her well to practice here. Waving a hand, a faint incantation left her lips and she turned widdershins in a circle, leaving a rune pattern beneath her feet.
The very ground beneath the evoker's feet seemed to teem with potential as the elf's eyes flitted upwards to the sky. Taking a deep breath, she centered herself and directed her energy to the air around her right hand, which was now outstretched. The air seemed to boil with heat before exploding into fire, and she summoned an arcane missile in her other hand, pushing the two together to combine. Sparks flew as she attempted this, and the two energies seemed to be almost like opposite poles of a magnet, drawing together with a crackle of what could have passed as thunder.
The fire gleamed with not only its own light, but the crackle and fizz of arcane light, buzzing within the flames such as a firefly might within the summer months. It amplified slightly due to the rune circle, and Fehl held the bolt in her hands, cradling it gently. She looked forward, and a water elemental manifested from the vapors in the air, staring back at her in obedience. She threw the bolt forward with bared teeth, and it crashed into the elemental, causing it to immediately explode, throwing scalding water in all directions. Fehl took the burning droplets in stride, making certain none of them hit her skin.
Summoning another of the bolts, she brought forth an arcane elemental this time. It was smaller in size, as she had only recently found a way to bring one such being forth—she had used much the same concept as a warlock would for a voidwalker—but rather, she pulled from the ley lines instead of the Nether.
Looking to the bolt in her hands, she pulled her hands apart, expanding the manifestation—it grew larger within her grip, and few beads of sweat pricked on her forehead with the effort to control it. Sighing quietly, Fehl let the bolt fly forward, staggering back a step at the recoil. The elemental seemed unfazed as it seemed to absorb the bolt, and the elf's brow furrowed with concern. That should not have happened—it was supposed to do the same it did to the water elemental, it--
The blast that echoed through Crystalsong left a rumble in the ground as the elemental exploded, releasing potent, virulent amounts of arcane energy in all directions. Denfehlath fell back as two bolts hit her—one in the chest, one in the head. Rolling onto her stomach, she coughed up a good amount of blood, the liquid spattering across the rocks.
Turning onto her side, Fehl gave shallow, short gasps as she tried to hold on to her consciousness, though her effort, as she knew, would be in vain.
The last thought she had before the world went dark was that it was highly likely that no one would ever find her.
She woke up two days later, within the post of Sunreaver's Command. Wrapped in blankets and bandages, she sat up slowly in her cot, and a nurse rushed over immediately, looking her over. The woman was a kindly-looking orc—a strange, foreign combination—and concern was evident in her moss-green eyes.
“Oh, oh miss, you're awake! Thank the Light, we were fearful you wouldn't...” Denfehlath sighed, and shook her head.
“I'm afraid, madam, that I myself happen to be far too stubborn to simply not wake.”
The orc chuckled with amusement, the corners of her eyes crinkling to create lines—combined with the grey streaks in her hair, it was evident that this woman was approaching the tail ends of her youth.
“Well, good. We found you in the Azure Front, multiple burns and lacerations combined with what seemed to be cracked ribs and internal bleeding. Are... Are you sure you'll be alright? Is there anything I can get you?”
Denfehlath shook her head. “Nothing but perhaps something to eat and a skin of water, if you please. I'm afraid I'm too weak to conjure—”
The orc cut her off, her eyes going wide in wonder. “Oh! Oh, a mage, how wonderful! Your talents must be immense to live through such a blast—what was it?”
The elf shook her head, laughing slightly. “Arcane. A really violent blast, actually.”
The orc sighed, shaking her head and clucking her tongue at the elf. “Tch. You silly girl, you could've died. I mean, look at yourself!”
Glancing down, Fehl gasped, covering her mouth with one hand as other lifted to grasp a lock of hair. Its normal red had seemed to drain out, leaving her hair a shocking, pure white. She shook her head a little, looking back up, and the orc furrowed her brow, obviously concerned.
“Is something wrong, dear?”
Denfehlath shook her head, standing and quickly locating her equipment. A snap of her fingers, and her normal armor latched itself around her, a cowl raising above her head.
“No. Nothing. I must go, though—thank you for your treatment. I will remember your kindness.”
Her breath shaky, she conjured a portal to Silvermoon, and the orc held up a hand.
“Wait! Young lady, if you don't stay, you'll—“
The warning was lost as the portal shut and Fehl collapsed against the walls of Silvermoon's libraries with a wide-eyed expression. Sliding down the wall, she curled into a ball, and spoke no more for a full hour—the shock of the situation and its severity had taken its toll.
The orc, meanwhile, sighed and leaned against another cot. “If you don't stay... Your newfound effects will be more severe than you know.”
