Fading

The hours passed by slowly, while they stayed near the fire, awaiting for Daria to return. It was warm and pleasant inside and Laandra felt so tired after the journey that, despite her efforts, she soon drifted into sleep.

Her face buried into his shirt, fingers grasping at the sleeve.

Eireannan sighed, slowly tracing with just the tips of his fingers the perfect line of her lips. He caught sight of his own poorly healed hands and shivered. It was so that the purity and the beauty of her soul were in such utter contrast with himself...

" I have strayed from the rightful way a long time", he thought." Denied the power that Light held upon my soul...but wasn't Light to forsake me in the first place?"

Heresy.

"Yet I have not betrayed anyone, I have not sought greater power for myself and I have never killed an innocent. And for that I am at peace with my soul."

The last prayers he had ever said were those he had murmured onto Niniel's broken body, as he carried her to the hastily built pyre. Lady Sylavanas was right. He did burn her and he had thrown the Book of Prayers to burn with her. What use did it have to him anymore?

A sudden noise outside made him jump. Laandra stirred sleepily as he disentangled her hands from his clothing and stood up to glance through the window.

Why hadn't he left one of his minions to guard them?

Not that it would have bettered the situation in any way, he thought, cynically, his right hand going instinctively for the hilt of the sword only to discover he didn't wear it.

Laandra had woken up completely in the meanwhile. She rose quickly, worried by the tension in his movements and by the small sounds that came from the other side of the door. Peering over his shoulder, she almost gave a startled cry.

There were at least twenty of them, Laandra discovered in horror. Priests and paladins, mostly, yet some of them looked rather like blade wielders, not Holy Light.

The door went down in seconds. They had barely managed to get back a few steps, when the room was filled with stern looking men, all of them wearing the tabard of the Scarlet Crusade.

"Eireannan Sarálondë , in the name of Light, you are to come with us..."

These men were supposed to be guardians of the Light, Laandra thought, despairingly. Why then this fear, wrapping her tighter and tighter around her neck, like a snake?

" So you finally found me!" she heard Eireannan say. The gentle expression he had displayed earlier had vanished, as if dispelled and there was coldness in his voice, as he stood there, defying the attackers.

" You are a shame for all the righteous people!" one of them spat out, words so filled with hatred that Laandra shivered instinctively.

"Righteous people like you, that would torture innocents to death and then bring them back to make them suffer some more...?"

Despair, Laandra understood. They were trapped.

There was suddenly a burst of light and she closed her eyes, almost blinded. Eireannan gasped as it hit him and she remembered in a flash what Holy Light meant to him, to corrupted body and soul alike…He staggered but did not fall, yet, she could almost physically feel his pain, as he struggled not to scream, through gritted teeth.

The priest in front of the crowd threw his hands out, ready to summon another wave of Holy Light.

This was so not as it should have been, Laandra thought, her mind stirring around the facts.

Light was good.Light was forgiveness and prayer.

Light did not hurt...

Laandra heard herself screaming “No”, as she dashed in front of Eireannan. The new blast of Holy Light surrounded her body, but left her unharmed. That was the power of faith, she thought, as the men suddenly became aware of her presence and Eireannan left out a shocked sound.

“Get away, mage”, the priest said despisingly. “You’re not one of us, not one of these lands…don’t interfere with things you do not understand! Your recklessness has served enough our interests ."

Blades unsheathed, they came closer. She did not move.

“Get back, draenei, a paladin intervened. Let us cleanse this demon! Your kind is tolerated here, for now, but punishments will be severe for those that side with the demons and the undead.”

" Laan", Eireannan whispered, placing a firm hand on her shoulder. He was now surrounded in the sickly luminescence of his demonic shield. The time she had bought had allowed him to summon his imp as well. "It's no use. Let me die with honor.It's all I have left."

She felt his suffering , his doubt. The slight hesitation in his voice.

But there was no time left. No mercy.

"No", she begged, her eyes now welling with tears. " It is all wrong! Stop it,please..."

Someone tried to pull her away, roughly grabbing her upper arm. Then everything turned into a blurry rush of sound and movement, as the men pressed forward, swords at the ready, the imp started tossing fireballs at them making a terrible noise and she heard Eireannan let out a small cry when one of the sharp blades pierced his shoulder, in one single hit.

He felt dizziness engulfing him, while they cast again their Holy Light at him, making him sink into an ocean of agony. Blood gushed freely from the wound and then he fell on one knee, strength wearing away, as he threw out a last curse.

Death would be swift, this time.

And there was nothing else in his mind that a huge void...not even the haunting images that followed him every night, as Silvermoon fell over and over an Niniel died.

There was nothing. Just him, alone, shivering, as blood spilled out of the wounds and trickled to the floor.

Expecting the final blow, which would not come anymore.

He forced himself back into awareness and understood. It was Laandra, her slender body covering his, her glimmering shield absorbing the merciless blows.

Protecting him.

Her face pale, as her own energy was drained away and the spell power was faltering.

He wanted to scream, to push her away, away from the pain that awaited now them both.

"Don't die. Just don't die for me, Laan..."

Did he actually spell the words out?

The second turned into an eternity as their eyes locked together.

" I didn't betray you", she whispered, her lips barely forming the sounds. "I don't know...how they found out...they spied on me...I was careless...but I didn't..."

A sob.

" I'd rather die with you than betray you..."

"I know."

Reaching out for her, to pull her closer, as her shield fades, swords and daggers torn their flesh apart, leaving gaping wounds, and blood spills out, mixing their life essences into one.

Then all sound dies, even the last, remote whisper of a prayer.



"Oh Light, we have sinned against you,
through our own fault,
in thought, and word, and deed,
and in what we have left undone.

But in our pain we pray for you to forgive us all our offenses;
and grant that we may serve you
in newness of life,
to the glory of your Name."