Back into business

Days were all the same.

The void inside. Pain.

By now he'd became so used to it it didn't even bother him anymore. He went through the constant routine of waking up after nights with too little sleep, eating scarcely in Light forgotten inns, traveling on side roads across the land and burning down the minions of the Scourge.

At least that still made him feel something.

Two weeks of hiding from this own thoughts had passed until he managed to convince himself it was high time to go back.

As he'd expected, he found his people gathered at one of the small inns in Tirisfal Glades, where he had descended after an almost adventurous journey through Hillsbrad Foothills.

It snowed again when he arrived. Shaking away the snow from his cloak, Eireannan entered the cramped place, to find himself surrounded almost instantly by at least dozen frustrated faces.

The inn was warm and it smelled pleasantly of freshly roasted meat. Apart from his own men, there were little other travelers, mostly Forsaken that kept the distance, as usually.

Brushing away the people around, a short, fragile looking human woman made her way towards Erienannan, throwing him defiant looks.

"Demons take you, Ei'an, where the hell have you been?!"

He acknowledged her with a faint smile, while untying his cloak and trying to find a spot for himself to sit down. He suddenly felt he lacked air.

"Daria."

"No, now don't give me that look, we all thought u're layin' dead somewhere. Two weeks, no news...curse you, Ei'an..."

Everybody else fell silent, while she voiced out her indignation at his "childish behavior". No one else would have dared to talk to him like this. Only Daria, who had been with him from the very beginning, when the both of them were only lost, suffering, emptied shells of living beings, after the Scourge had trampled down everything they used to love, care for, trust in...

She'd been one of the many orphans plague left around northern Lordaeron. A human girl, barely fifteen at that time. So young still now, Eireannan thought, bitterly, yet the sight of so much death and the anger that burned inside had marked her face too. She looked older, harsher, her hand nearly all the time on the dagger she wore, as if the touch of the weapon would offer some sort of strange reassurance. No one could match her skills in scouting and organizing ambushes all around the Plaguelands. Sneaking and striking from the back, if necessary. There were no rules in that war. No honor. Only revenge.

" Now, now", she said, pushing everyone away, "the man needs food and breathing space...". She sat down near him, on the corner of the bench and gazed in his eyes. Eireannan avoided her look.

" Not asking anything", Daria said after a while. The innkeeper had brought them some steak and wine, and freshly baked bread. The smell of the food was inviting, yet Eireannan felt sick, his body longing after a different kind of sustenance. Something even after all these years, Daria found hard to understand, so he forced himself eat, to avoid further comments.

Truth was, if any other person had dared talk to him like she did it sometimes, the poor wretch would have ended up in ribbons or writhing in agony for hours, depending on his mood at the time.

" We're planning to go on to Stratholme next week", she said, quietly. "Then u went missin'. Good to see ya in one piece though...Listen, Ei'an", Daria added, after a short pause " the Dark Lady wants to see ya..."

The idea definitely did wonders for his already thin appetite, Erieannan meekly thought.