The gentle scent of jasmine rose from the freshly served tea, filling the high priestess's study with a delicate fragrance. Kaelion held the cup in his hands, feeling its comforting warmth as his eyes roamed the room: shelves lined with ancient volumes, violet tapestries embroidered with silver depictions of Elune, and a soft light filtering through the stained-glass windows. Aneliel, seated across from him with natural elegance, took a slow sip before setting the cup down on its saucer with a faint clink. Her eyes, serene and calculating, fixed on Kaelion with a mix of fondness and gravity.
—Kaelion, dear —she began, her voice velvety and solemn—. I'm afraid I didn't summon you just to speak about your return to Teldrassil. There is… a more delicate matter I must discuss with you.
Kaelion raised an eyebrow, intrigued, but remained silent, allowing her to continue.
—You know better than anyone that our borders have not been at peace lately —Aneliel went on, folding her hands on her lap—. The reports grow increasingly disturbing: suspicious movements from the Horde and… certain rumors of possible internal betrayal.
—That's nothing new —he remarked, taking a sip of tea—. The Horde is always looking for ways to destabilize us.
Aneliel barely smiled, a gesture both elegant and restrained.
—Ah, but this is different. —Her tone grew lower and sharper—. This time, the threat may be blooming within our own ranks. I need someone I can trust without question—someone who can move in the shadows, act with judgment, and, if necessary, with a firm hand.
Kaelion set the cup down on the carved wooden table, crossing his arms with a guarded expression.
—And what exactly are you asking of me?
—I want you to become my Shadowblade —she declared, the light dancing in her eyes—. A special agent, free from the chains of bureaucracy and answering only to me. Your mission would be to investigate these movements and, above all, uncover the truth behind the rumors of betrayal.
The title echoed in Kaelion's mind with an unexpected weight. This was not a mere task; it was a burden—and perhaps, a sentence. Yet Aneliel's eyes showed no hesitation, only absolute confidence placed in him.
—I understand the magnitude of what I ask —Aneliel continued, leaning slightly forward—. And I ask it not only because of the debt I owe you, but because I know you are the only one capable of carrying out this mission without staining the honor of our people.
Kaelion held her gaze for a moment longer, the weight of Aneliel's proposal still echoing in his mind. The word Shadowblade coiled through his thoughts like a taut rope—a fate offered in silence, yet carrying the scars of hard decisions. The High Priestess watched him with the composed stillness of one accustomed to observing everything closely, measuring each reaction. Her eyes shimmered with an intensity that barely waned, and Kaelion noticed the slight tension in her posture, as if awaiting a definitive answer.
He took a deep breath, the scent of tea filling his lungs. The warmth of the cup between his hands seemed to anchor him in the moment, giving him a second to process what he had just heard.
—I'll consider it —he said at last, his tone calm but with a note of firmness that made it clear he wasn't taking the decision lightly.
Aneliel nodded slowly, as if she had already expected that response. There was no anger, no impatience in her expression—only a profound serenity that seemed to understand the need for space when facing such choices.
—Take all the time you need, Kaelion. But don't forget what's at stake. The days of peace we once thought secure are crumbling, and not all enemies are visible to the naked eye.
Kaelion looked at her again, recognizing in her words a truth he could not ignore. This was not merely a mission. It was something far greater—an invisible line drawn between loyalty and betrayal, between truth and deception. Before rising, Kaelion gave one more nod—not of certainty, but with the resolve of someone who knows the decision ahead will define far more than just his future.
—Thank you for trusting me, Aneliel. —His voice was low, but sincere.
And with that, he stood and stepped away from the warm glow of the study, knowing that what lay ahead would be far colder and darker than any night he might face in Teldrassil.
When Kaelion left the mansion, the High Priestess remained thoughtful for a moment, watching the door close softly behind his departure. However, she soon refocused her attention on the present. She turned her gaze toward her handmaiden, who waited discreetly beside the table.
—Calithra, please bring me my schedule. I need to know when the next lessons at the priesthood sanctuary will be —Aneliel said with a serene but resolute voice.
Calithra, quick to obey, stepped forward with the schedule in hand, offering it to the High Priestess without a word. Yet, as she did, a question crossed her mind, and she couldn't help but ask, afraid to speak without permission.
—Forgive me, my lady, if I may ask... who is that soldier? —she said, curiosity reflected on her face.
Aneliel looked at her for a moment, her eyes glowing with a soft intensity, before taking a sip of her tea. The question wasn't unexpected, though it was somewhat personal. She paused, as if considering how to respond, before speaking with deep composure.
—That soldier... saved my life, Calithra. —Aneliel's response was calm, each word carrying a considerable weight—. During one of my last meditative reflections, a deep ritual went wrong, and I became afflicted by corrupt magic. The illness... is called "Moonshadow."
Calithra frowned, surprised at the mention of such a severe illness, especially in a priestess of such high rank. She knew of her lady's strength, but Moonshadow was something she had never heard named.
—Moonshadow? —she asked in a hushed tone, as though merely naming the affliction might summon some shadow into the room.
Aneliel nodded slowly, her gaze now fixed on the distant horizon of her study, as if reliving the painful memories of those near-death days.
—It is a rare sickness that affects those who overuse lunar magic. The corrupt energies warp the body and mind, casting the afflicted into a deep lethargy. During that time, my soul hung by a thread, drifting between realms... —she said, almost in a whisper—. The body slowly deteriorates, and if no action is taken, death is inevitable.
Calithra said nothing, but her face showed clear concern at what she was hearing.
—My devoted student Lyara was the one who noticed the first signs. She saw me consumed by the magic and rushed to tell Kaelion everything. —A faint smile appeared on Aneliel's lips, tinged with both gratitude and awe—. Kaelion was the only one who dared ride a hippogryph to the mainland in search of the healing herbs I needed to survive. No one else would attempt it... The journey was dangerous, the forest creatures offer no mercy to intruders, and the disease had overtaken me so fiercely that I could no longer use my magic to defend myself.
The priestess paused, as if reliving those intense moments when life seemed to slip away.
—I was on the brink of death, Calithra. I'd swear I was already about to cross the Threshold... But in the midst of the agony, they managed to bring me back. He not only saved my life but restored my soul when I believed all was lost. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't be here now, sitting in this study... or sipping the tea before us.
Calithra remained silent, aware that this revelation completely changed her perception of the mysterious soldier. He was not just a mere warrior, nor some nameless figure; he was someone who, without hesitation, had risked his life for the priestess many deemed untouchable. Seeing the awe in her handmaiden's eyes, Aneliel concluded softly:
—That is why I feel indebted to him. And why, when he speaks of his doubts, I strive to offer him all the honesty I can. He holds more weight in our lives than he knows, Calithra.
Kaelion walked home at a calm pace, allowing himself—for once—to lower his guard. The sounds of the forest seemed to wrap around him: the whisper of leaves, the distant song of birds, and suddenly, the clear laughter of elven children playing among the trees. He smiled slightly at the scene, but the peace was interrupted when he heard a stifled cry and the snap of a branch giving way. Without thinking, Kaelion rushed toward the sound. He caught sight of one of the children losing his balance, falling from a low branch. He moved swiftly and, just in time, extended his arms, catching the child before he hit the ground.
—Careful there, friend. Are you all right? —Kaelion asked, relieved, as the child stared at him wide-eyed, still processing the scare.
The boy, with dark hair and eyes as large and bright as the night sky, nodded slowly. Kaelion gave a soft smile when he noticed a scrape on the child's hand, likely from a branch during the fall. Gently, he helped the boy to his feet and knelt down to examine the wound.
—Don't worry, it's not too bad. Let me help you patch it up —he said, pulling some bandages from his pocket. His movements were careful as he wrapped the small wound, making sure not to cause any further pain.
The child watched him silently, still a little shaken. Kaelion finished the bandage with a knot—firm but gentle—and gave him a warm look.
—You're very brave. What's your name? —he asked in a kind tone.
—Theranil —the boy replied, still holding his bandaged hand with a bit of awe.
Kaelion smiled.
—That's a fine name. What do you want to be when you grow up?
—A warrior —the boy answered with unexpected firmness for his age, his eyes glowing with determination.
Kaelion let out a sincere, amused smile.
—Excellent name for a warrior —he affirmed, giving him a gentle pat on the shoulder—. Then you'll have to be more careful when climbing trees, Theranil. Great warriors also know when to be cautious.
The boy nodded, now showing a small smile, and Kaelion stood up, allowing himself a light chuckle before continuing on his way, leaving the young warrior with a new story to share with his friends. Theranil's companions hurried down from the tree, their faces worried and eyes wide. Upon seeing their friend safe and his hand bandaged, they sighed in relief. One of them, a boy with silver hair and bluish eyes, looked at Kaelion with a mix of admiration and shyness.
—Sir, are you a warrior? —he asked, his words full of curiosity.
Kaelion smiled, allowing his tone to become more playful.
—I am indeed. A great warrior —he replied with a slight nod of his head.
The children's eyes lit up with excitement, and several of them stepped forward, speaking almost at the same time.
—We want to be warriors too when we grow up! —they exclaimed, their voices filled with excitement and dreams still far ahead.
Kaelion raised an eyebrow, both amused and surprised. He couldn't help but smile at their energy.
—Well then, little ones, to become great warriors you must behave, eat your vegetables to grow strong and healthy, and obey your teacher —he advised, his voice warm and patient—. That way, Elune will guide your path, and everything will go well for you.
—Yes! —the children cheered, raising their arms with joy, their laughter ringing like bells among the trees.
The scene was gently interrupted by the arrival of a moon priestess. Her figure was elegant and serene, wrapped in bluish robes that shimmered like starlight. A kind smile graced her face as she looked at the children with affection.
—All right, children, it's time to eat. Please go wash your hands —she said sweetly.
Like a stampede, the little ones ran off in the direction she pointed, laughing and nudging each other with the ease of childhood. The priestess watched them go, then turned her grateful gaze toward Kaelion.
—Thank you very much, sir, for rescuing Theranil. I see you get along very well with children —she commented, her voice soft but firm.
Kaelion shook his head slightly, a modest smile curving his lips.
—I'm simply doing my duty as a soldier: protecting civilians —he replied simply, crossing his arms.
—Even so, not all soldiers would take the time to speak to them like that. —The priestess bowed her head respectfully—. The Light of Elune shines in hearts like yours.
Kaelion, unaccustomed to praise, merely nodded with a brief but sincere smile. Without realizing it, that small interaction had softened part of the weight on his chest, letting him forget, if only for a moment, the burdens of war.
On his way back, Kaelion recalled another night in the Barrens. He was standing guard, watching over the rugged terrain stretching before him. The gentle breeze of the Barrens slid between the rocks, carrying with it the salty scent of parched earth. In a lower clearing, he saw a lone figure—Aerion. The blood elf was resting at the edge of a small pond, its clear waters reflecting the moonlight. Despite being a lagoon in the midst of an arid landscape, the water was clean, and a few fish glided within, a strange marvel in such a dry environment. Aerion was trying to peel a pomegranate. With his knife, he attempted to cut the skin, but in a clumsy movement, he pricked his thumb. A small whimper escaped his lips, though the pain didn't seem to affect him beyond a slight furrowing of his brow. With a grimace, he tried to stop the bleeding with his hand, but without much success.
From the shadows, Kaelion watched him, invisible to the blood elf's eyes. Before Aerion could react, a bandage—thrown with precision—landed near him. The blood elf looked up, slightly surprised. However, his pride didn't allow him to acknowledge the help.
—I don't need your care —Aerion said, staring at the spot where the bandage had fallen, without turning around— but thanks anyway.
From the darkness, Kaelion couldn't help but let out a quiet chuckle—amused and tinged with a hint of mockery. For a few seconds, he remained there, watching the elf struggle to mask his wounded pride behind a façade of indifference. With an almost imperceptible smile, Kaelion stepped back and vanished into the darkness of the night, leaving Aerion with his gaze fixed on the bandage. He knew that, even if he didn't admit it, that small gesture had spoken louder than the blood elf was willing to acknowledge.
The next morning, Kaelion stood in front of the map, a cup of hot herbal infusion in one hand and his other arm resting on the rustic wooden table of the small outpost. The morning light streamed through the broken windows of the shelter, bathing the room in a golden hue. The sounds of the camp—distant but present—were of soldiers preparing for the day. Murmurs, laughter, and the crunch of boots on the dry earth reached him as though from another world—one to which he no longer belonged. In front of him, the map displayed the vast expanse of the Barrens, a region marked by hills, canyons, and desolate plains. "Here," he thought as his eyes followed the borders of the assigned zone. "My mission is to protect all this. And why? Because I was told to. Because someone believes there is something worth safeguarding here." Yet his mind kept drifting eastward, toward the action his comrades were experiencing as they faced the Horde. He brought the cup to his lips and sipped slowly, seeking some comfort in the warm drink as silence wrapped around him.
—They've left me behind —he murmured quietly, so no one could hear. —No one moves from here. No one takes risks. Just me, here... guarding shadows.
He continued tracing the map, the tips of his fingers drawing invisible lines over the parchment, as if trying to find something—some purpose that would justify his presence. But the truth was that everything felt empty, lost in the vastness of the Barrens. A feeling of helplessness crept in, and the sensation of being trapped in a bubble, cut off from everything, grew stronger.
—What if this is all there is for me? —he thought, before turning his gaze away from the map and looking out the window.
The sun was already high, and the promise of a new day rose like a reminder that time waited for no one—not even for him. A sigh escaped his lips as he returned his focus to the map, searching for some clue of what he was meant to do next. The day was just beginning, and Kaelion knew the morning calm was only the prelude to another long day of watch. But within him, something stirred—a spark that had not yet gone out:
—I don't want to just be here. I don't want to be just a guard. Something has to change.
Preparations for the departure to the battlefield were underway. Aeris and Thalon, busy with their tasks, were finalizing the details of their gear. Kaelion approached them, his steps calm but firm on the sandy ground. Despite the camp's tranquility, something in his chest couldn't ease the tension of the day ahead. He stopped in front of them, watching as the two finished getting ready.
—All set for battle? —Kaelion asked, his voice deep, though his gaze remained fixed on his comrades.
Aeris, always the most enthusiastic, raised his sword, which gleamed in the morning light.
—More than ready —he replied, his tone brimming with confidence—. We're going to show those orcs what it means to face a night elf.
Thalon, however, didn't share the same enthusiasm. He adjusted his cloak calmly, eyeing Kaelion with a thoughtful expression.
—And you, Kaelion... still here on guard while we head into the field?
Kaelion, aware of his friend's tone, didn't take long to answer. He knew Thalon wasn't questioning his loyalty—just struggling to understand why he wasn't joining the mission.
—I am —he said, gazing toward the horizon, as if trying to see beyond the mountains—. Someone has to stay behind to make sure there are no surprises. The Barrens are far from peaceful.
Aeris, nearly ready to depart, stepped closer and gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder with a confident smile.
—Don't worry, old friend. They won't dare cross our path. We'll be back before you know it.
Thalon, more serious, gave his gear one final adjustment and looked at Kaelion with a mix of respect and concern.
—Take care, Kaelion. The Barrens show no mercy, not even to the finest warriors. Make sure you don't fall behind.
Kaelion nodded, a faint hint of a smile appearing on his face. In a deep voice, he replied:
—I have no intention of falling behind, Thalon. But I've got work to do here.
Aeris, already mounted on his nightsaber, raised a hand in farewell.
—Come back alive —said Kaelion as his comrades began to ride off.
Aeris, still moving, called out from a distance:
—If anyone can keep the Barrens safe while we're gone, it's you!
Thalon gave a silent nod and, before leaving, turned once more to Kaelion.
—We'll see each other soon.
The war sabers galloped hard, kicking up dust in their wake. Kaelion watched as his companions disappeared into the morning mist, carrying with them a piece of his thoughts. He remained there for a moment, still, before turning back toward the outpost he now had to defend alone. With a barely stifled sigh, he murmured to himself:
—It's going to be a long day.