Part One

Shards of ice, like millions of tiny, deadly blades, swirl through the air. Slowly, making absolutely no sound, Jeseth circled the meadow.

Something feels wrong…

Shaking the thought from his head he focused back on the tiny camp. A small fire, barely managing to survive in Northrend’s harsh winter, flickered just enough to illuminate the lower jaw of the lone figure ahead. Seemingly an incarnation of death, just as quiet and just as deadly, Jeseth crept forward.

Something is definitely not right…

Moving so quickly that Jeseth was caught by surprise, and finally understanding the unease he felt so acutely, the person before him… nay, the thing before him whirled around, brandishing a glowing greatsword that seemed to have appeared from nowhere.

“Rogue…” The voice, flat and lifeless, confirmed his suspicion, “I have no quarrel with you.”

Her eyes glowed ever more intense as the seconds ticked tensely by. Obviously unsure whether her movement would launch them into a bloody quarrel she exaggerated her movements, slowly taking a couple of steps backward as she straightened her posture.

How foolish, this thing actually believes that measly difference in distance could change anything?

Jeseth almost spat as he thought the words, but kept his composure. Outwardly exhibiting a being so calm, so collected. so stone-like that one could almost mistake him for the same type of bastardization of life and death that these death knights represent. He growled at the thought. Even to compare himself to them in such a manner was insulting.

“You do not deserve to live,” Jeseth snarled, his voice barely a cold, cruel whisper.

Kill…

Her head shook slightly. An obviously painful expression flittered briefly across her face, only to disappear as quickly as it came.

Something still seems out of place… do they actually retain their feelings now?

Pulling the cowl back, revealing her face, she finally looked directly at him. Jeseth stopped moving, even stopped breathing. Without warning a blood-curling scream erupted from deep within his very being, and he fell to a knee. His knuckles, white as the snow as they curled so tautly around the handles of his daggers that nothing could pry them loose, popped slowly as every muscle fiber in his body twitched.

…them…

Gasping, through clenched teeth, Jeseth managed “this cannot be.”

Her voice barely betrayed her emotions, “what is the meaning of this?”

It did not take long for realization, for a sudden wave of emotion, to hit her then. Jeseth managed to disengage himself from his weapons, and removed the mask from his face. A long, thin line scarred his otherwise perfect features. One eye, obviously no longer functioning, glinted a slightly darker hue than the other.

“You died. I saw you die…” he whispered.

Tears formed in her eyes. The sword already clamoring to the ground, she took a step forward. His recoil shocked her, until she recognized the words he so barely uttered.

…all.

What surely seemed an eternity passed, neither moving toward the other. The full spectrum of emotions raged through them, consuming them, threatening to tear them limb from limb from the inside.

“Yes, I did die,” she whispered grimly.

Jeseth paused, unsure of whether he could even say the words, “Sinil…”

The name made her wince, recalling memories of a previous life. “Not anymore,” she snapped. Then, much calmer, seeming to want to be understood, “My life has been changed by the horrors I’ve endured, and I do not want my previous lifetime to be tainted by this…” she whispered. Then her face softened, her voice almost pleading, “I can’t have my previous life tainted.”

Finally composed, Jeseth took a step toward her. He slowly reached for her, uncertainty showing clearly in his eyes.

KILL HIM!

The force of the voice in her head caught her off-guard and instinctively she lunged toward Jeseth, sword ready to plunge into his unguarded chest. Suddenly, with an ear-splitting roar, a lithe form crashed into her. The creature was much too graceful, and much too fierce, to be typical. The sound of the collision made Jeseth wince, shaking him from his shock at his beloved’s sudden attempt to end his life. He sprang into a low crouch, preparing to defend himself against this new threat.

But no attack came. The cat merely had this incarnation of Sinil… no, this degenerate, pinned cautiously in place. Without warning the cat suddenly became a beautiful, young night elf, and Jeseth understood now more than he was probably expected to.

Her voice was even more mesmerizing than her appearance when she spoke, “Let us not get too hasty to kill each other off so soon. Even the Knights of the Ebon Blade and the members of the Assassin’s Guild are our allies against Arthas.”

She motioned for them to follow as she continued, “I am Byaghro, Guardian of Cenarius and a member of a growing effort to finish this, once and for all.”

In the wooded area before them a low growl rumbled, and a huge nightsaber moved toward them. Jeseth moved to comfort her, but then realized where Sinil, his companion and former loves’ namesake, was headed. The druids were marvelous in many ways, and one of their astonishing talents was their ability to communicate with the beasts, with nature herself.

In a hushed voice, though with a mounting tension evident, Byaghro stated, “The time for small talk will come later, but at the moment you must prepare yourself for battle.”

As though on cue the ground began to shake.

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Previous Posts That Set Up This Series:

1. Jeseth’s Introduction, Truth Eternal
2. Byaghro’s Introduction, Guardians of Cenarius
3. Degenerate’s Introduction, The Ebon Blade