“Fear me, Banshee Queen.”
Shimmering golden yellow eyes glared across the remnants of what was once a battle. All around Mythaelan was death and destruction. Broken Sentinels and undead laid before he and his opponents who stalked toward him. Forsaken scavengers, sent to kill any remaining Night Elves. His home, his people’s home, all that they had left, burned to cinders. White ash rained from the sky as far as the eye could see.
Should one listen and look closely, they could hear the screams of innocent Kaldorei civilians being massacred and see the vile clouds of plague that the banshee queen unleashed upon them. Time seemed to slow as he watched the forsaken foot soldiers and their commander grow closer and closer. Mythaelan was tired. He had been fighting since the early hours of the morning and there seemed to be no end to their hordes.
Despite this, he stood strong, clad in his brown tunic, darnassian tabard, plate greaves, and plate boots. His blade Kelserrar glowed and hummed with the power of Elune herself and only grew stronger as he closed his eyes and began to channel, “Anu’dorini Talah. Bandu Thoribas. Andu-falah-dor.” The blade’s hum grew in sound and the light from the runes became blinding for a mere moment as the undead reached him.
The first forsaken charged and swung with an overhead attack. Mythaelan spun to his opponent’s left, taking the opportunity to slice at it’s waist. The power behind his blow cleaved the undead in-two. He did not stop there, he used his spin’s momentum to come back around in time to block the second swing from his right. The Night Elf forced the forsaken’s blade down and went under its arms, only to shove his blade into its stomach. What blood and rotted guts the creature had left spewed out onto his blade and hands. With one swift jerk backward, he ripped his blade from the dead opponent so that he may charge for the next one.
A quick and skilled blow to the legs sent the third and final undead soldier to the ground. Mythaelan plunged his runeblade down into the forsaken’s chest, all while staring toward the risen sentinel who lead them. “You think you are the only ones who lost yourselves, traitor?!” He bellowed across the field. “THEY TOOK EVERYTHING FROM US!” Myth shouted with a follow-up growl and bare of his teeth, which revealed his sharp canines.
“Elune abandoned us. There was no hope, there is no hope. Not for you or your people, warrior. Surrender to the will of the Banshee Queen and we will make your death swift. Resist… and you will die a long, agonizing death.” The hollow voice of the risen ranger returned.
“Never will I surrender to you or that vile filth. If this is the only way, if you will not see reason, come, taste my steel, “sister”.” He mocked. Moments later, Mythaelan was charging and the former huntress was drawing back her bow. She let one arrow fly. It whizzed past Myth, scraping the side of his arm.
From the burning forest leapt a frostsaber, Snowfang, Mythaelan’s most loyal companion and trusted friend. She landed on the risen sentinel and slashed in her direction. The sentinel managed to vault out from under the saber, roll backward, and then knock her bow and release an arrow into Snowfang’s side.
The cat roared in pain and scurried off to the side. This display distracted their foe, allowing for Myth to slam his shoulder into her chest once he reached her with his charge. Such raw brute force knocked the air from her lungs and launched her at least ten feet back, leaving the night elf on the ground and disabled, chest shattered.
The warrior slowly walked over to the dark ranger who laid on the ground wheezing in pain. Mythaelan looked down at her, his golden gaze softening with hints of sadness, “I tried, sister.” He said quietly as he kneeled beside her, “Our people have endured so much more. You could have endured. There will always be hope.”
The remaining light slowly faded from the sentinel’s eyes as she spoke, “..I…” she wheezed, “...the banshee queen.. will.. prevail.” Myth reached to the front of her belt and removed one of the many daggers along it, “Rest, sister. As well as you may.” The blade was lifted and brought back down directly into her heart. He spoke a quick prayer of Elune over her, despite her betrayal and corruption.
In the distance Snowfang trotted toward Myth. The sight of his friend alive and well made him smile through the pain he felt. He pushed himself from the ground, sheathed Kelserrar upon his back, and began to walk to the saber, “Where did you come from, girl?” He asked with an outstretched hand. Snow brushed her head against him and purred, “I am glad that you did. On my own, she was far too powerful.” The cat looked to her master and blinked slowly. Myth smiled once more and returned the gesture by resting his forehead against her own.
Further past the both of them, screams began to grow louder, as if civilians were running toward them. “It is lost! Teldrassil is lost!” One of the fleeing Kaldorei shouted from a ways off.
Myth’s brows furrowed in confusion, “Go Snow, I will meet you by the shore. Protect any survivors.” He said to the saber, who huffed in acknowledgement and ran off as best she could with the arrow in her side.
The warrior then turned and began his run to the opening where many others gathered and where he beheld one of the most horrific sights he had ever seen. Teldrassil, the World Tree, burning to a husk. Mythaelan fell to his knees and watched as the atrocity that Sylvanas had committed unfolded.
Tears flooded to his eyes and down his cheeks as he witnessed the burning of his people’s hope, his people’s last beacon, their last and true home. He closed his eyes, tears falling to the ground. The Kaldorei had not felt such pain since the loss of his parents. It was a pain he had hoped he would never endure again. It was as if he could feel the tree’s pain, as if he could feel it wither and die.
“What have we done to deserve such atrocities against us, Elune?!” Mythaelan roared, “What have your people done to deserve this?!” He looked up to the stars as he spoke, “She will pay for what she has done.” The Kaldorei whispered.
“Fear Me, Banshee Queen. For my blade and vengeance comes for you.”
[ @venreenaholt @ladysaraholt @starfallsentinels ]