Asharri Lakefire

Perspectives

The conclusion of battle had always been the same. The weary brave had eventually returned home, eager to rest their bones within the comforts of their own beds, before falling back into a more local routines in wait to larger scaled duty designated by those looked upon as leaders. Whereas the fallen had either been transported back to their homelands to find eternal rest, or by some even graver tragedy, not at all; forever forged into the very bloodied earth in which they had fallen. Some sort of solemn remembrance hosted in its most formal fashion by the locals had always followed suit, followed by warmer, drink filled festivities in celebration to victories had been the usual, unchanging protocol once the dust had finally started to settle. 

Asharri barely had time to revel in any sort of festivities after it was all said and done. In the passing weeks, she had found herself frequently out on patrol, leading her own unit of rangers deep within near forgotten territories of Quel’Thalas and around its outer borders in increased measures of security following the exile of her own kin. Though her heart crumpled beneath the revelations and the rumors of even more of her people slipping through the cracks, she trudged through in the only way she had ever known how. Affected unseen until she had been gifted with the privacy of her own home, and sometimes in the presence of Pyranthios who was always a little more hard pressed to reveal even an inkling of emotion. 

It had come to light that Caitira, a long-time friend to both Asharri and Pyranthios, had gone missing in the short expanse of time that had passed in the last month, leaving behind no trace as to her whereabouts. What had pained Asharri all the more was that Lutero had also gone missing. Wondering if the two had gone off together was the only sense of it that the Farstrider Captain could make, and she teetered on the edge in thought to whatever the aftermath might occur; especially where Lutero’s brother had been concerned. 

Though he possessed a different sight than that of Asharri, Pyranthios had been keen on picking up on her restlessness. In the way that she never seemed fully there whenever he held her, to the way that she sometimes paced her study unaware he could hear the clack of her boots so well from the opposite end of their large home. Never one for many words, even for her, the demon hunter did what he could to quiet her own demons, alongside his own. Even he had been deeply concerned in the two’s mysterious disappearance, sending out his own agents to dig in a little deeper and recover any answers they could find.

In more ways than one, Azeroth had changed quite vastly since the last war against the Legion had begun anew and waged its expanse . Not only had the landscape changed over in deeper territories of old and new to some of the younger races living upon it, but the peoples had been changed in ways not quite imagined before. A division was setting its course deep into hearts of those who had not thought it possible before, and it was only a matter of time before one might see how far that line would go. How deeply etched and visible it might one day become. 

Were they ready for what next lingered over the next horizon?