( Occurs after the events of the Eternal Palace. )

“Get up.”

Lithendras started awake on his stone bench. As he sat up, groggily, he sighed, “You have returned. I suppose…this is it, then? The end we have been awaiting?”

Luminash, instead of confirming the Ren’dorei’s suspicion, however, shook his head, “Perhaps not. We must speak.”

The Rift Warden rubbed his eyes, weary as he was, with the heel of his palms, “What about are we to speak, Luminash? I fear there is little left to discuss.”

The magister shuffled scrolls on his desk about idly, his shoulders and body tense, words coming uncharacteristically slowly, “We breached the palace. The Horde and Alliance, jointly…” He looked back briefly to gauge...

It was a quiet night at the Larethian house. A breeze pushed through the trees outside and brushed up against the house, but the inside was warm and secure from the cool winds of the season. All the candles had been snuffed and shadows danced throughout the home. Only the sounds of sleep could be heard inside.

Deeper into the night, a grunt could be heard from the first floor. Soon another followed. And then another. Braghaman lay on his back, shifting a little from side to side. Suddenly, he grunted again as his head turned to the side and his arms flew into the air as if to ward off an attack. His eyes opened and then blinked several times as he tried to focus on the objects in the dark. Slowly he lowered his arms and brought his...

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"Well this isn't Silvermoon..." Khaeris turned around and peered. No, it wasn't Silvermoon at all. She looked back over her shoulder to where the portal had been only a moment prior. No trace of it remained except the slight tingle of the arcane over her skin and it was already fading fast.

"Huh." She spun in another circle and her lips pressed together. She knew where she was. The sky blue and much too close, the spires were tall, and there were a few other travelers in the portal room. The Kirin Tor attending the room bustled her  out the door with an efficiency born of hours of practice. Dalaran.

"Gods and goats." She tried to be annoyed, but she wasn't. She laughed and dug at her pocket knowing what she'd find--her coin purse gone....

The facility in the center of Nazmir was massive. Khaeris eyed it. There would be no denying the thrill of it. And she'd heard it was mostly cleared out now. Mostly.

She rolled her lips and watched as one of those horrible blood ticks crawled out from under a half-burned hut. Clearly it was holing up there, now that the blood trolls were eradicated in the area. Or maybe it had lived there before? She wrinkled her nose. What did they even feed on to get that big? It turned her stomach just to think about it. One of the huge brutosaurs maybe?

Her raptor clicked his tongue in agitation and Khaeris agreed. Her hand rested on his powerful neck, caressing to soothe. They turned away from Uldir and kept to the road heading east. To Torga....

Their god have been vanquished, but the Blood Trolls had not all been made aware--or maybe they were just in denial. Khaeris wasn't sure.

There was a village just off this path, but she was careful and swung around it wide. But not  wide enough that she didn't pas near to a small shrine. It had once been to some other loa, but now it had been taken over by the blood trolls for their own uses. A few stone bowls and tablets sat waiting f or their next use and there was a large flat altar.

Khaeris shuddered and kept her raptor moving. They were all old, but the implements were all bloodstained. She would have liked to inspect things more, if she was being honest, but it didn't seem wise, on her own as she was.

She gathered that the temple wasn't as quiet at it had been just a few months ago. Spirits poured their way in and she never saw any come out.

There were priests and dedicates around the temple, but they moved with their own purposes and paid little mind to a wandering elf by herself. They had bigger Deaths to think about. They were their own sort of wraith and drifted in and out of  Khaeris's vision nearly as ephemerally.

Khaeris was curious, and her own feet moved her forward in halting steps, unsure how the ritual worked. Would walking inside bind her? She could feel the thrum of heaviness even in the ground around her. Her spirit reverberated with the sheer number of souls that were blooming around her. The superstitious part of her...

He could get lost out here, looking up hypnotized and seduced. Expanse and deep, the whispers were more cogent here for him. You could feel the promises coil. This was his sister's world, really, but he had followed her. He came back now and then, through the rifts and always felt better being covered. It wasn't precisely cold, but it wasn't really warm either.

The rift made his stomach turn in a way that Outlands and portals never did. It was beautiful but terrifying, too. He hadn't been born for this. He'd chosen this otherworldly place and power, for the sake of family and love.

Estira wasn't here today; wasn't seeking fellowship. He'd find her elsewhere. It was time to leave.

She lay in bed, comforter pulled up and a book lay across her bent legs. There was a mug of tea on the side table and her free hand tapped an unconscious rhythm on the sheets as she read.  She startled and nearly threw her book--and kicked her cat--when suddenly her feet were attacked by an unrivaled predator.

Kharris laughed lightly and then cooed to soothe Fathing's own irritation at the disappearance of his prey. The cat sauntered up to her, silent and haughty, accepting the soft touches she offered to the big tom. He flopped down next to her heavily. He moved with grace and lithe power, but Kharris frowned to see how much slower he was moving. And, lately, he hadn't leapt directly onto the bed, but first onto the bench, then up to...

The Sethrak ruins were stark to her, but she liked the stone and all the statues. History she'd never known before the past year came into focus and she let it reflect into her. The lines were hard but the colors soft. The roots of the place felt old, even when she compared it to the ancient societies of elves. It wasn't clear: were the Sethrak as old as the trolls?

She made her way to the top of the temple and snapped a few more pictures. She was sending less of them, and getting less in return. She'd bought a few baubles, but mostly kept her coin for necessities. She knew she should think about going back soon. But she wanted to see Nazmir, too. Maybe tomorrow she'd start to head east.

The whole continent was magical. The great seals....

Khaeris pulled her knees up to her chest and lay her cheek on them, still smiling. Her ears flickered with the popping snaps of the fire and the rush of the wind through the nearby canyon; but she was more interested in the voices around her.  Night didn't hush things here, sound raced over sands.

She couldn't understand what the vulpera families were saying between themselves, but the mixed company was a mish-mash of different races and languages. The accents soothed her and the laughter made her smile. Someone a few wagons away was singing a lullaby, she found herself humming along. Voices from strangers floated around her like water, lapping at her mind and retreating in seductive waves. She could drown in this, with no fear, numb...

He probably thought it was lost. No, just stolen. Borrowed. She was in the habit of taking them when he was gone, and she had been quite conscious of packing this one for her trip. It was soft and crisply white. The buttons were neat and tight, though she had to roll up the cuffs and hadn't bothered to button it fully. It didn't smell like him--it smelled like fresh laundry and had that slight dusty smell that came from months in a drawer. But he always looked so nice in them. It made her smile to wear it and think of him. So she drank a lazy cup of tea in her rented bed and his shirt.

The desert was full of life, if you knew where to look. Khaeris didn't, not yet, but she was learning. After only a day in Vol'dun she was enraptured with the place. The Vulpera had been welcoming and warm to her, and she was beyond delighted with the robust alchemical studies their culture utilized. She had stayed the day in the town on the main caravan roads. Their wagons were different than her people's, but the feel of them was the same. She instantly felt more at home there than she had anywhere else in years.

She pulled her braid over her shoulder and peered through the little curtain of the wagon she had rented. The rapidly cooling breeze was refreshing over her warmed skin. The smell of the cooking food from the fires teased...

She frowned down at the little device in her lap. She was using it more lately, but it still managed to defy her frequently. And it never helped when she was drunk. Which she was. She blew out her breath and puffed her cheeks as she tried to pull two thoughts together.

They bounced apart like magnets.

Her eyes narrowed and she pressed her fingertip against the screen. There was a small rumble from it, but it flashed and went dark again.  She pressed the trasmit button and waited for it to give her the code input screen, but it didn't. She tried each again two more times. She considered throwing it.

It was no use. The device was locked. She was frozen out of her own device! How rude. ... She'd tried too many times. She had wanted to...

Click! Clack-clack-clack~

Verisimi smiled to herself, it had been a good hit. Her fingers toyed with the smooth surface of the mabler shooter as she . She often played with the glass beads when she needed to unwind or take a moment out of her thoughts. Though she often played alone, practicing and slipping into a meditative state calculating angles and trajectories.

The set had been gifted to her by her mother as a girl. It always made her think of home. There were plenty of times she'd fiddle with them to bring herself back to center.

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He had, naively, thought the hunger would vanish somehow. He'd never been one good at meditating, so the high elven ways were lost to him. He'd learned to siphon mana and fel, just like all of them. There was always that soul scratching gnaw for more. More. And even more.

But he'd followed her. Farther and farther. To keep an eye on her. To stay with that family that lived. She was desperate to learn to control it. To learn from it. And she found others.

So he remained there, on the periphery of the void's chosen  children. And he hungered. For connection and for the sustenance of life. So he kept himself tethered to darkness.

She'd been sending so many messages. Pictures. Quips. Tiny connections she was desperate for, even as she left them all behind.

Khaeris knew it was a ruse parading as levity. She was running, but her problems would follow her. Confrontation was inevitable and disastrous. Still, with every step, the trip was already lightening her heart.

“What are you going to dress as?”

“I don’t know, maybe I could make a helmet like the Headless Horseman.”

“That could be cool.”

“What about you?”

“I think I want to dress up like King Anduin.”

Braghaman looked up from his papers and glanced over to Banagan and his friend. The two young boys were sitting on the ground drawing in the dirt with sticks.

“You’re hair’s the wrong color.”

“Well, its just pretend. As long as the suit looks right.”

“You could get a wig.”

“Where do you buy wigs?”

“Bet there’s a shop in the city.”

“What? Like a ‘Wigs n Stuff’?”

“Probably. Seems like you can buy whatever you want there.”

“I don’t think its like that, though.”

“Sounds...

Ren sat there, frozen on the bed, listening for the bite of the whispers from the bathroom. Maybe she was typing? Or maybe just speaking so hushed he couldn't hear.

Trisandrah had fled there to talk to someone. Talking to them now. After he'd just admitted he wanted more than her casual affection. He wanted to be something with her, not a coincidence, not a pleasant convenience. It was foolish. He'd known it was likely to end it all, but the not knowing was driving him crazy.

He scrubbed a hand through his hair and swung his legs over the bed. His eyes found his clothes, tossed across the room in a heap. Well, he'd known this wasn't likely to go the way he wanted. Couldn't even say the word 'dating' around her without her getting hedgey...

He was silent, eyes hard. It would be worse for her if he didn't keep quiet. She didn't need to be here. They didn't need to be here. But the whispers... She'd been cursed with them since she'd been small. Shadows. Void. Whatever you wanted to name it.

Wicked. Wild. Witch.

The names had been whispered in the same way she heard the voices. Their parents hadn't known what to do and had refused to believe it couldn't be trained out of her. They barely acknowledged their youngest's idiosyncrasies. Her wide, dilated eyes at noon. The way her head would cock, as if listening to the wind. Wandering through the Eversong woods.

She wasn't dangerous.

Not yet. Why couldn't they see?

Rimath continued to shadow her. He would be there, even if the rest...

She looked up at the stars

Remembering the crisp colors of them

But no longer seeing the spectrum.
 
Everything was muted now.

Snow dampened sound.

Every aurora was weak.

Grey tint to all.

The only colors running true

In the forest

Were the blues

On her blade

In her eyes.

That was the color near death.

It had felt a bit like a rebirth, coming back to this time. She had been gone for over six months. Vanished. Poof. As good as dead. It hadn't been hell, but her time away certainly hadn't been heaven. She had not been sure it was going to be a purgatory, even with the insistence everyone had tried to reassure her with in the months prior to her correction. But here she was, given the second chance to live in her second chance time.

Habitually, lost in thought, Khaeris ran a fingertip at a small imperfection on her upper arm. There was no scar--just a small injection and then it was done. But there was a slight rise in the subcutaneous tissues. The small tracker was there. Pollux had, apparently, been carrying it with him constantly, in...

The seashore was sacred now. She didn't keep many sentimental objects when it came down to it; she could get rid of most of her belongings and feel fine about it, with the exception of a very few items. But places? Places were sacred and kept close to her heart.

Her toes dug into the beach and her sandals dangled from her fingers as she walked along the familiar shore. She wouldn't go far, Pollux was on his long board. But the meandering alone-together felt nice an Khaeris smiled to herself.

She knew no matter what happened, this particular stretch of beach and shore was theirs. Not in any possessive way, but in a memorable way. They'd spent hours here shooting, getting swimming lessons in for her, and generally just being together....

Kharris gave Kieran another hug while Coire waited grumpily near the small group of elves. The old direwolf didn't appreciate the disruption of this time of year. Kharris smiled to see the wolf, understand some of his agitation.

She kissed her friend's cheek and sank down to the flat of her feet. He was much taller than she was. It always surprised her, no matter how many times she saw him.

They were no longer children, but they would always be startled by that, so deeply entrenched in each other's more innocent days.

Guilt pulled at her here. Guilt for leaving Kieran out here with only his wolf for company. She knew that she and Asarel were welcome here--but at the same time, Kieran would undoubtedly feel some ease as they left.

Asarel...

She woke up with a gasp, shivering even under the heavy blankets. It was dark in her room. Moonlight came in through the gauzy curtains her aunt favored, painting all the edges of everything silver and white. Without color, the room looked flat. But it wasn't the deep, dark, heavy cold she'd been dreaming of moments prior. She sat up and tried to catch her breath, but the images kept come back. Her imagination ran her through everything again.

Water. They'd been under the lake. They'd heard explosive note of the impact, the crack of the ice, the panicked screams of the draft animals, and the ironically cheerful burbling of the air out of the vardo as it sunk quickly into the frigid water. The cold would have stolen their breath as they...

She had never stayed somewhere with a basement. Or rather, it was really a root cellar, snug under the farm house. There were big folding doors that lay near the ground and opened outward. The lock had been easy to break, but the doors still closed tight together to seal out rain, snow, critters, and ... other things.

She looked around as her eyes adjusted. The room had dirt walls and there were the thread-thin roots that pushed at them. It seemed fitting that  she would bury herself down here to avoid the disaster overhead.

She had nothing but the clothes on her back and one alarmingly flat rucksack that had once been stuffed full. Supplies were running low. Until she'd found this haven anyway. Her heart was beating from a whole...

He never said the words. Not out loud. But before he'd done his jump, his eyes had dared her. He didn't believe she'd do it. She'd failed before. He wouldn't have judged her if she couldn't do it. But she'd been working so hard to try.

Khaeris looked at him, she could see him still, but it was very far down. He was treading water and looking up at her. He was still beaming with the rush. Her toes curled around the edge of the cliff and gripped at the stone. The humidity was thick and the water below was doubtless cool and refreshing for him.

Goosebumps appeared up and down her limbs. She reached up to shake out her hair, feeling the way sweat had curled it over her neck. Her fingers tugged at the suit around her legs. She looked...