Intermezzo

"So, what's your name?" Erieannan asked after some time, hoping his voice had sounded at least close to normal, without the trembling he could still feel deep in his core.

She gave him a circumspect look.

"Laandra. Laandra Seth'Aran."

He raised a brow and she saw it.

"Not my real name", Laandra explained, with a faint smile. "It was given to me by some Kaldorei friends, back in Ashenvale. I've lost everything in the crash of the Exodar. Including my own memories."

" How lucky of you", he murmured. His eyes had darkened and Laandra didn't miss it. A sudden wave of compassion brushed over her, as she realized the man looked unhappy. Haunted, to say the least. She noticed the marks sleep deprivation had left on his face, the slight shaking of his gloved hands. It felt not like another living being, but more like an empty shell, devoid of all emotion and caring and sense of purpose. To her own surprise, she didn't feel threatened anymore, Light help her.

" I'm Erieannan Sarálondë " he continued, with a small sigh. "Look, I owe you an apology for what happened earlier."

" Last time I checked we were enemies", Laandra interrupted, bluntly. She then blushed, at her own lack of tact. But it was the naked truth, they have been sworn enemies, ever since his kind had attacked Tempest Keep. Hell, she had joined the Hand to fight against Blood elf saboteurs on Bloodmyst Isle. Yet all felt utterly different now, after so many other fights and trials, she told herself and revenge was not very much a thing of the Light.

" Sorry" she whispered, avoiding his gaze, this time. " It was only pain and pain's gone now. You owe me nothing."

Normally she did not think about men, not even on her spare time. She had mostly led a lonesome and wandering existence, her favourite places in the world being Ashenvale and Menethil Harbour, and that said tons about her personality.

It was exactly the quietness of Menethil Harbour or Astranaar she appreciated so much, far from the rustle and the noise and the never ending rush that went on in the streets of Stormwind.

She was not made for the great capitals, she smiled to herself. People would go back and fro’ talking out loud, asking you for stuff and news and sellers would pass by inviting you to examine their goods.

Laandra felt more happy in the wilderness, where she could harness the magical energies of frost and fire and practice her art in peace. She would enthusiastically join the fight against evil and darkness and corruption in the remote and forgotten places where people had long lost hope.

In the streets of Stormwind, she was just another alien passer by. But in the shadowy corners of Ashenvale or on the barren slopes of Stonetalon mountains, her presence was always welcome, as she brought back light and hope.

Because she cared, she now thought. The will of the Naaru was better accomplished silently, among those in need. That was what Velen the Prophet had taught his people. And Laandra truly believed in his words…that they should devote themselves to the pursuit of light and atone for the sins of their fallen brethren, the Man’ari. The lessons of the past were never to be forgotten, nor the mistakes repeated…

Men simply did not fit into her life, unlike the permanent sense of approaching danger and the constant need of looking over her shoulder, to see if anyone was following.

This one felt different.

Oh, a blood elf and a warlock of all things! But there was a force driving her towards him, a power of whose strength she had just became aware and found it threatening.

She shifted out of her thoughts, disturbed the awkward silence that had fallen inside the cave.

Erieannan watched her intently, as she kept avoiding his gaze. Then he sighed.

"Time to sleep then", he said, without any conversational purpose. He gestured towards the improvised bed near the back of the cave, made up of her blankets he had taken from her own backpack and his cloak.

" You must be tired, no doubt, after what I've put you through."

Laandra started to protest, but he shushed her with a gesture.

" I've tested that curse myself a couple of times and didn't like it at all. Now go to sleep."

"What about you?" She looked at him, only then realizing he had nothing else on than his grey shirt, his armor laying abandoned somewhere in a corner. Laandra watched as he extracted yet another blanket and lay it against the opposite wall of the cave.

" You'll be cold. I'll be perfectly fine with my own..."

" I'm always cold", Erieannan shrugged with carelessness. " One more night won't make any difference. Now sleep."

His tone had suddenly grew commanding, almost knocking at the barriers of her mind. Laandra shook her had, to dismiss the annoying feeling he was actually interfering with her own will. However, she found it pointless to resist, so she headed to the back of the cave, snuggling under the blankets and cloaks, warmth soon returning to her limbs.

Fear was not something to keep her awake all night and she was decidedly tired. Raising a last Prayer, Laandra entrusted her soul to the Light and her passing life to the mercy of Erieannan Sarálondë and fell asleep.