The dead and the living

It was not easy.

Hell, she hadn't expected it to be.

Entering the Monastery was one thing. Fighting their way through it to find Eireannan was a totally different one. Daria had picked up only five or six people to join them, in an attempt to minimize the losses of lives, should they have failed.

Which was very probable and yet not an option, Laandra had thought, all the night before, while turning in her already crumpled bead sheets.

The actual fight seemed a total blur,events unfolding way too fast for her to be able to grasp their full consequences. Making decisions as they went to the dungeon-like catacombs of the Monastery. Daria and her men moved in a well organized fashion,long practiced together, Laandra realized. And yet there was an empty spot in their carefully planned organization. Eireannan's, she had thought, pain clenching her throat like a merciless claw. She had tried to fill it as well as she could, focusing only on the combat itself, the next target, no time to worry about what they would be faced with when they found Eireannan.

The Monastery itself was packed with horrors. Things she had never thought human beings in their right mind would do to other helpless people.

Then Daria let out a cry and Laandra remembered rushing forward to see, breaking the lock of the cell with a single blast of arcane energy, shattering it and sending small shreds of metal flying in all parts.

He didn't appear to be in a much worse state than the rest of the prisoners.

Oh, the wounds of torture were not something easy to look at and many would leave a scar, even if after properly healed.

But wounds went away. Broken bones mended. Flesh and skin regrew. What was terrifying was the void inside his eyes, deep, dark abyss in which one could fall and drown without chance of redemption. Was the fact that he didn't even seem aware of their presence as they helped him up an out of the confined, damp space of the cell. Not a word, not the briefest spark of recognition. Nothing.

As if Eireannan Saralonde was not there, not anymore.

Lost. Gone forever.

She had looked at Daria in horror and the human returned the same terrified expression, as they both understood.

No time to cry. No time to assess.

The soldiers of the Crusade returning, and they had to break their way through once again, as they poured on the small group in the corridor.

Running, dragging each other and the limp, will-less form of Eireannan. Out in the open air and down the path, summoning blizzards and rains of flame over the heads of their enemies, to buy some time, until she could hold ground no longer and was forced to back off as well.

A crazy,mindless ride through trees and beasts, without suceeding to gain distance from their pursuers.

And then there were the ruins and the walls seemed to close on them, as they kept running...

"We'll be overwhelmed", Laandra thought, as all power started to fail her. No place to go, at least not fast enough to escape their pursuers.

If only they could have made it into Hillsbrad, they would have stood a chance.

But there was no way to get so far, as the Crusaders came closer and closer, riding like whirlwinds on the deserted paths of Tirisfal.

Almost surrounded. Then an arrow, coming out of nowhere, piercing the throat of the one that rode in front and the man fell from the horse with a strangled shriek.

Other arrows followed, and, as Laandra felt utterly confused, Daria seemed to understand better what was going on.

" Here" she yelled, covering the sound of hooves and the cries of their enemies. " Everyone to the Undercity, now!"

The thought was creepy, yet Laandra obeyed, as she rode after the others, through the ominous looking ruins of the once so mighty Capital City of Lordaeron. They dismounted in a rush and made it almost blindly through the halls, to the stairs that descended in the foul smelling catacombs. It's like going alive to hell, but Daria kept pushing her and Laandra had no time to hesitate.

A door, opening with a cracking sound.

Then a growl, the most horrible sound Laandra'd ever heard and suddenly she found herself face to face with a three-meters tall Abomination, that dumbly stared at her.

They barely had the time to regroup, when through the same door, behind them, a group of Forsaken rushed in, weapons at the ready. Laandra stepped back, fighting hard to retain a cry as she took in those apparitions, ragged flesh and clothes and bones showing. A piercing voice, high, rising over all the sounds of the underground city.

"Close the gates, now!"

The Abominations ran to fulfill the order, shoving their bulk into the large wooden doors and slamming them close. For a second, Laandra felt lost, as if the world was closing on her, completely. She couldn't breathe through the stench of death that filled the place. In awe, she only saw the slender "thing", was it a being anymore? that came down the stairs, pushing everyone to their sides.

Her head was covered in a black scarf and she carried a long bow into her right hand. As compared to the rest of the city's denizens, she looked almost human. Yet it was the grey shade of the skin that betrayed the truth about this apparition and Laandra understood that, were her to touch her hand, she would have found it frozen.

She was dead.

" Be prepared", the Dark Lady said, her voice so high that the urge to cover one's ears was nearly crushing. She studied them, their bloodied clothes and hands as they huddled together in the center of the hallway.

" I suspected you would try something foolish".

It was Daria to whom she talked and the girl nearly stepped back, her face contorted with anger and the reminder of a moment in which the Dark Lady had had Eireannan bent over her, dagger in hand... But she had saved them now, so she swallowed her pride and her fear all together.

" My Lady Sylvanas..."

" Luckily for you, my spies brought me news of your...attempt. " She passed by her, and, reaching out with the left hand, touched Eireannan's arm, then lifted his chin, to gaze at him. But he just stayed there, numb, barely held upright by his companions, his eyes as void and dull as the stone walls of the Undercity.

A sad smile contorted, if only for a moment, the Dark Lady's features.

" Too late though, it seems. He's gone. Nothing but a shallow, empty shell that remains...His soul gone so far that there is no hope..."

"No", Daria said, tears welling in her eyes. She had been fighting the same thought for hours, but it sounded even more cruel in the Dark Lady's words. " No", she repeated, almost defiantly, " Ei'an does not go down so easily...He'll come back to us...he has to..."

"That's to be seen", Lady Sylvanas retorted. "Now, I have no time to waste. You go where you chose. You could stay here, if it pleases you. It's safe. And you..." she pointed out to Laandra, who still stood in awe, trying to compose herself. " I wonder what an Alliance servant does here."

" I am no one's servant", she managed to utter. " It's all about Eireannan that..."

" How pathetic. Stupid. Foolish. Throw away your lives...your loyalties for a man that's already gone."

The voice of the banshee,Daria thought,glancing uneasily at the Forsaken Queen. Their alliance was frail, a thing of shared hatred and common purposes. And her previous experience had shown her how changing were her Highness' moods.

Laandra however, forced herself to stand the gaze of Sylvanas Windrunner, as her own shock at the sight of the Undercity faded away. To exist forever in damnation, Eireannan had said, once. How could this be a thing of Light? Yet they were as real as she was, with their rotting flesh and their awfully vivid consciousness locked inside.

" Did you back down when the fight seemed lost, My Lady?"

It hurt.

The Dark Lady whimpered slightly, then, her expression contorted into a cruel mask, she stepped towards Laandra.

The Banshee, Daria thought, now frightened for real. Stop it, Laan...

" How dare you?"

" You haven't." Laandra strove to keep up her calm face. Her hands were shaking badly, so she clenched them on the sides of her robes, to hide it. The wound she had made to herself the other day burned, as if to remind her of what truth really was. " Even when you knew there was no hope left, you still held up you ground and fought. Paid the price for it. Why do you ask less of us?"

" I have no mood to waste listening to foolish words! Do you think I have any regrets?! The living do not trouble me at the least and I have no pity for their suffering..."

She was so close now that the others cowered, taking the most respectful attitudes possible.

" Listen", the Dark Lady suddenly said, in a different, hushed voice. " I have sent word to Warchief Thrall about this. I don't think that the air of the Undercity would do to much good to Eireannan if he's ever to come back... I hear they're after you as well...foolish wretch, to betray your own people,for the sake of an enemy! You're free to go to Kalimdor and find a place to hide. The Warchief has already issued an order that you may pass. Even though I still don't know why I did speak to him in the first place..."

Laandra stared at her, disbelievingly.

" Why?"

The Dark Lady made an evasive move towards Eireannan, before turning her back on them.

" I owe him something..." she whispered, so lightly that Laandra could hardly make up her words. Then, raising her tone again, Sylvanas Windrunner walked away, proudly.

" Now be gone, I don't wanna see you anymore, you fools!" she threw over her shoulder, as they remained stunned, watching her dissappear in the shadow of the hall.