"In the murmur of the night breeze, as the stars began to reclaim their place in the sky, two fates crossed paths in the stillness of a world on the verge of collapse. A meeting that neither time nor memory could erase—a connection that transcended war and shadow. The moon, keeper of hidden secrets, watched them in silence".
The next morning, Kaelion rose with renewed spirit. The stillness of the night had passed, and now the morning light filtered through the cracks of his window, casting long shadows across the walls of his home. Before stepping outside, he took a moment to tend to what he had left undone the night before. Every object returned to its place, every small chaos restored to harmony. A mundane act—but a necessary one.
When he finished, he walked over to the window. The day was splendid. The morning air carried the scent of damp earth and fresh leaves, and the sky—dotted with pale clouds—stretched with deceptive serenity. A soft breeze stirred the treetops, as if nature itself were whispering its secrets to those willing to listen. Kaelion narrowed his eyes and, with a slow, solemn gesture, turned toward the sun. He bowed his head in silent reverence—a rare tribute for a night elf. The silence in the cabin was broken by a gentle knock on the door. Kaelion turned his gaze from the window and sighed, already guessing who it might be. He rose calmly and opened the door.
—Hello, Lyara. I see you're ready to hear everything I've been through.
The night priestess offered him a calm smile.
—Hello. Actually, I was just out on my usual morning walk—but yes, I figured I'd stop by since I was nearby.
—Make yourself comfortable —he said, stepping aside to let her in—. Tea?
—Yes, please.
The scent of freshly steeped herbs filled the room with comforting warmth. Lyara wrapped her hands around the cup, letting the heat spread across her skin as she took a seat. Kaelion, his expression relaxed yet thoughtful, settled across from her.
—Haha, I can't believe you were attacked by a thunder lizard —Lyara exclaimed, laughing with a mix of wonder and disbelief after hearing the beginning of his tale.
Kaelion smiled, touched by nostalgia.
—That's exactly what happened. It just showed up in our camp while everyone was asleep. I was on watch, but I stepped away for a moment to... well, you know. Then suddenly, the whole night lit up with a roar. Lightning, hissing, shouting. That beast was unleashing chaos among us.
Lyara watched him with interest, resting her chin on one hand.
—Were you afraid?
He gave a snort, amused.
—Tell me, when was the last time you saw anything like that around here? I was terrified. I didn't even know how to fight it until someone managed to hit it right in its weakest spot.
Lyara's eyes sparkled with excitement.
—I wish I could've seen one up close.
Kaelion tilted his head, thoughtful.
—You might, someday. At the Darkmoon Faire—depending on where it's held.
Lyara smiled at the idea but said nothing. She simply brought the cup to her lips and savored the taste of the tea, while images of thunderous beasts and storm-lit nights formed in her mind. Her expression shifted subtly, growing more somber. Her eyes darkened with the weight of the concern pressing on her thoughts.
—How's the war and the diplomacy with the Horde?
Kaelion let out a heavy sigh and leaned back in his seat.
—An agreement still seems far off. Ashenvale remains under occupation. I've heard rumors of new lumber mills and a possible attack on Astranaar.
Lyara frowned, a pang of indignation rising in her chest.
—That's awful.
—Our soldiers, with the help of the Alliance, have managed to slow the orcish advance. But there's no progress—no retreat either. It's as if this war will last forever.
Lyara considered his words for a moment before speaking.
—Well, if they won't give up, neither will we. They'll wear themselves out eventually.
Kaelion let out a brief laugh, tinged with resignation.
—You never lose that optimism. Sometimes it sounds absurd... but it works.
She tossed a berry at his head without warning.
—Haha, come on. It's helped you more times than you care to admit.
Kaelion raised a hand to his forehead in mock offense before surrendering with a smile.
—Yes, I admit it.
The mood lightened once more, and for a moment, only the sound of the wind rustling through the leaves filled the room. Lyara settled into her seat, but suddenly jolted upright, nearly spilling her tea.
—I almost forgot. The high priestess of the moon wishes to see you. She wants to greet you and speak for a while.
Kaelion nodded slowly, no surprise in his expression.
—I see. If you happen to see her today, tell her I'll make time to visit her shortly.
Lyara nodded and finished her tea, savoring the last sip while their conversation lingered in the air, leaving behind a blend of shared concerns and quiet certainties. Before leaving, she paused for a moment and, with a slight tilt of her head, looked at Kaelion and asked one final question—her voice filled with a curiosity that seemed to cut through the calm stillness of the room.
—Tell me, what struck you the most out there?
Kaelion, who had been wearing a faint smile, let his expression soften. He looked down at his cup, which turned slowly between his fingers, as if the simple motion could help untangle his thoughts. The question, so simple in form, carried the weight of memories he wasn't sure he was ready to share.
—A friend... —he answered, his voice quieter now, as if the words were difficult to release.
Lyara raised an eyebrow, intrigued, her eyes watching him intently.
—Friendships always leave a mark. How did you meet him?
Before Kaelion could respond, a faint fluttering filled the air, like winged wind brushing against the window. The owl—well known in that house—entered with near-majestic grace and landed on the table, scattering a few feathers as she did. The same familiar presence as always, but with a hint of urgency that didn't go unnoticed.
—It's Erwyn —said Lyara with a slight smile, waving her hand as if to soothe her—. I'm sorry, Kaelion. I haven't quite managed to train her properly.
Kaelion couldn't help but laugh at the sight. With a gentle motion, he brushed aside a feather that had fallen onto his cup, unbothered by the interruption.
—No trouble at all. Taming beasts has never been an easy task—especially when they have such a free mind as hers.
The owl, in response, tilted her head to one side and extended a leg with a message tied to it. Lyara quickly untied it and read it, her face shifting slightly as she processed the message.
—It's from the priesthood sanctuary in Darnassus. I have an important meeting. I should go now. But please, tell me more about your new friend later. I hope he's not competition, hmm?
Kaelion, with a slight smile on his lips, shook his head, his eyes gleaming with a mix of fondness and humor.
—No one's going to replace you, my friend. Stop saying such nonsense. Now go—they're waiting for you.
Lyara gave him a quick smile, warm as always, and stood up, leaving the room with the same lightness she always carried. The door closed behind her, and Kaelion stood for a moment, gazing at the empty space she had left behind. The sound of her footsteps faded quickly, taking with them the atmosphere of trust that had filled the room.
With a sigh, he leaned gently against the door. From there, he slowly slid down until he was seated on the floor, the cold wooden boards of the room embracing his body. His elbows rested on his knees, and his hands clasped together instinctively, forming a natural support for his head. The stillness of the room wrapped around him, and for a moment, he allowed himself to sink into his thoughts.
His mind began to drift toward days long past—toward memories that floated through his consciousness like a slow-moving river, unhurried yet undeniably strong. His face softened into a faint, lopsided smile, tinged with restrained tenderness, and he closed his eyes with the sense that, if he concentrated hard enough, he might relive every one of those moments. Moments that, though they faded with time, never truly disappeared. It all began when Kaelion had arrived in the Barrens during a moment of tense calm. The vast plain stretched before him like a canvas painted in hues of gold and red, where sand and stone blended beneath a scorching sky. The Barrens were not the forested beauty of home, nor the cool green hills of Ashenvale—but they held a rawness that Kaelion found fascinating in their own way. It was an unadorned place, a land where survival was forged in the relentless will of those who lived there. The earth seemed to breathe with a quiet stillness, and the distance between the far-off mountains and the open plains only deepened the sense of solitude that blanketed the landscape.
Tents and small night elven outposts were scattered across the arid terrain. Life here wasn't comfortable, but at least it offered what they needed: space, freedom to patrol and train, a place to keep watch. The hot breeze, thick with dust, brushed against the skin, and the sun—unyielding—seemed never to relent in its searing heat. It wasn't the civilization many had left behind, but Kaelion didn't see it as a punishment. To him, it was simply the beginning of a new chapter. As he moved through the camp, Kaelion heard the laughter of one of his comrades—a night elf named Aeris—who was grumbling through fits of laughter while cleaning his sword.
—Well, after all these years of service, my reward is... the Barrens. —Aeris raised his arms toward the sky, as if the vastness of the place were the worst of curses—. Who decided this was a place worthy of being called home? Not a single tree in sight! Not even a patch of shade to shield me from this damned sun.
Kaelion, who had been watching the stars shimmer on the horizon, simply gave a half-smile, calm and unshaken. Aeris had a talent for turning the desert into an epic tragedy—but Kaelion didn't share his outlook. To him, the Barrens represented something deeper than a mere waystation. It was a trial, a chance to see the world in its most stripped-down form. And there was something freeing about its vastness—something that made him feel more in tune with himself.
—I don't see it that way —Kaelion replied as he gathered his gear from the tent, unhurried—. This place has its own beauty. It's just... not obvious. Out here, things are simpler.
Aeris let out a mocking laugh and shook his head, but he didn't press the point. Kaelion, for his part, kept moving through the camp, quietly appreciating the peace the Barrens offered. A harsh land, yes—but one that had much to teach, if one knew how to look.
After several days patrolling the Barrens, Aeris, Kaelion, and another night elf known as Thalon were on one of their routine rounds—nothing unusual, save for the endemic beasts and strange vegetation that thrived in the region. The sun was at its peak, drenching the land in oppressive heat, when they decided to take a break. Aeris and Thalon sat beneath the sparse shade of a withered tree, while Kaelion, as always, climbed to one of the higher branches, hidden among the leaves to take advantage of his usual elevated vantage point.
—What do you miss most about home? —asked Aeris, a hint of curiosity in his voice beneath the smile.
Thalon took a moment to think before answering.
—I miss the quiet nights, when everything is calm and all you can hear is the wind moving through the trees. —He stared out toward the horizon, lost in thought—. And the food, of course—though the dried meat here isn't that bad.
Aeris let out a mocking laugh and nodded.
—Yeah, dried meat will never replace mom's stew.
Both laughed for a few seconds, until Aeris turned toward Kaelion, who remained sprawled across his branch, eyes half-closed.
—Come on, sleepyhead. What do you miss about home?
Kaelion smirked lazily, but didn't move a muscle.
—The peace of resting in my own house without being asked dumb questions —he replied without opening his eyes, his tone relaxed and a little sarcastic.
Aeris burst into laughter and smacked the base of the tree.
—Haha, don't act so antisocial. At least share something. I'm sure you've got some story to cheer us up.
Kaelion didn't reply. But just then, something disturbed his calm. A distant noise—barely perceptible—caught his attention. Without thinking, he sat up swiftly and looked toward the source of the sound, which seemed to come from just beyond a small hill.
—Hide. Someone's coming —he said in a low but firm voice, his eyes fixed on his companions.
Aeris and Thalon didn't hesitate for even a second. They slipped swiftly into the dry underbrush, vanishing into the shadows, while Kaelion moved carefully toward the upper foliage of the trees. The wind blew softly, masking his presence as he watched intently. In the distance, he saw a figure standing out against the arid landscape. An orc—broad and fierce-eyed—was advancing with firm strides in their direction. At his side, three blood elves followed, their gazes sharp and alert.
The orc paused for a moment, turning toward the elves to give clear instructions.
—The perimeter will be divided in two. Two of you will take the first shift, the others will rest. Rotations every two hours. No jokes—I want no surprises. —The orc's heavy voice fell over his subordinates, who nodded silently.
Kaelion watched in silence, his eyes fixed on the elves. Among them, one immediately caught his attention. His bearing—his elegance, despite the harshness of the place—stood out. He was tall and imposing, with green eyes that glinted with a cold intensity. His long golden hair fell softly over his shoulders, and his deep red attire was adorned with golden accents that shimmered under the sun. His cloak, though simple, seemed to move with grace, as if the shadows themselves breathed life into it. He walked with a confidence that was almost tangible, his gaze focused on the orc—but Kaelion couldn't look away from him. There was something about him, a strange sense of familiarity Kaelion couldn't quite place.
The elf who had drawn Kaelion's attention stepped forward, looking at the orc with respect—but also with the unmistakable resolve of the sin'dorei. His voice, low but clear, broke the silence.
—Excuse me, Commander Gruumak. Which perimeter am I assigned to?
The orc gave him a disdainfully polite look. His voice, deep and resonant, had a rough edge, as if made of stone—yet there was an oddly gentle tone for someone of his size.
—Please, call me Ghorak. You'll take this perimeter for the night. But don't go any farther north—that's Alliance territory, and we don't want conflict with them... at least not yet —he said with a mocking grin, revealing large tusks—. Haha. You know, it's not fighting time... not for now.
The elf nodded, his face unwavering, and replied with equal seriousness:
—Understood.
Ghorak gave him a brief look, nodding with satisfaction.
—Good. It's quiet for now, anyway. So, there's not much to worry about. Let's head back to camp—it's time to eat —he said, unhurried but firm, turning to walk toward the other orcs.
The elf, who had lingered behind, silently scanned the terrain while his companions began to move ahead. However, a strange feeling crept over him, as if someone were watching. Slowly, he turned his head, his eyes sweeping across the area until they settled on the tree where Kaelion remained hidden, camouflaged within the foliage. For a brief moment, their eyes met—just an instant—and the blood elf gazed from the base of the trunk to the leaves above. But after a few seconds, he dismissed the feeling. Nothing seemed out of place, and he turned away to rejoin the others as they headed back toward the outpost.
Kaelion, still perched in the tree, didn't take his eyes off them until they had vanished from view, watching as they faded into the distance toward the camp. Yet a whisper from Aeris pulled him from his thoughts.
—The Horde has never extended their perimeters this far —he said quietly, the concern clear in his voice.
—They already know which lands are ours —muttered Thalon, his tone grim, as if the threat were already far too close.
Kaelion dropped from the branch with fluid grace, landing softly on the ground. He looked to his companions.
—Let's return to the outpost. We need to warn them about what we saw —he said firmly, his face serious, aware that what he'd witnessed might be just the tip of the iceberg.
The air at the Alliance outpost was heavy. The general—a veteran night elf with a piercing gaze—stood before his table, staring down at scattered maps and scouts' reports. The weight of the situation pressed on his shoulders, and he couldn't ignore the growing sense of urgency looming over them.
—This... doesn't sound good —the general murmured, rubbing his chin with a grave, calculating expression—. The reasons behind their expanding patrols could be... perhaps they're searching for safer routes for a future assault. Or maybe they're trying to establish firmer control over the surrounding areas. It's possible the orcs are testing the Alliance's patience, aiming to provoke a confrontation.
Aeris, standing near the table, nodded, responding with a look of resolve.
—There's no doubt they want to expand, General —he said, his voice steady—. The orcs are organized. I don't believe they're just exploring without purpose.
The general remained silent for a few seconds, as if weighing Aeris's words, then sighed heavily. His mind was already forming a course of action—aware they couldn't afford to treat this lightly.
—I'll send a report to our superiors myself. In the meantime, keep your guard up —he ordered, looking each of the elves in the eye—. Thalon, Aeris, you'll cover the eastern and western flanks, respectively. Kaelion, you'll take the route where the Horde patrol was spotted.
Kaelion nodded with conviction, his answer immediate.
—Understood, sir.
The general wasted no time in continuing with his instructions. He knew that, at least for now, his finest soldiers needed to remain vigilant—ready to respond to any unexpected move from the Horde. The fate of the Alliance could very well depend on how quickly they managed to anticipate whatever the orcs might be planning.