To pity the living

Walking with the dead, Eireannan thought bitterly as he descended in the catacombs of the former Capital City, avoiding, as usual, to stare for to long at its denizens.

Most of them where his own kin. Many he had known alive. Yet he could not stop himself wishing that the dead stayed dead and buried. Their presence made the thin line he already stepped on become even thinner. Good and evil had long lost their meaning, but it was difficult even to retain a reasonable amount of sanity while dealing on a regular basis with the deceased.

Daria walked alongside him, her lips pursed and her right hand on the dagger. She had insisted to come and Eireannan found himself unable to go through the tiring process of changing her mind.

She had been only once or twice to the Undercity herself, yet she seemed not afraid, only slightly uneasy, as they climbed down the stairs, towards the city gates.

The air was foul and unpleasant, and the dim light made them walk almost blindly until their vision adjusted to it. Eireannan heard Daria struggle to breathe normally as she tried to keep up with him.

As usual, the Dark Lady was to be found in her Royal Quarters.

Eireannan didn't kneel. Only gave her half of a bow, enough to prove some degree of respect and his own proud stubbornness. Then, straightening up, he look defiantly at the Dark Lady, Banshee Queen of the Forsaken and former Ranger General of Quel'Thalas, Sylvanas Windrunner.

" Look who's here" she observed in that deep, almost disturbing voice that sent chills running along his spine. " Erieannan Sarálondë himself".

"My Lady Sylvanas..."

"You look almost as good as I do" the Dark Lady continued, with a sarcasm she did not even try to hide or soften in anyway. "With the slight exception that you're supposed to be still alive."

"I'm still breathing", he retorted, his irony matching hers.

"Hardly noticeable. I heard your people are ready to move on to Stratholme. Do you really think you stand a chance against Kel'Thuzad, alone?"

He shrugged.

" We all die in the end".

"My forces will join you on this attempt. I know a lot about the damn lich...much more than you do..." She flexed her long, slender fingers, the grey skin looking sickening in the darkness of the hall. " I might even draw the bow myself in this fight."

She gave him a wicked grin, that contorted her altered features. Erieannan watched her absent minded, trying to remember how that face had once been, beautiful, serene with an expression of confidence and courage.

" I've also heard you went missing for a while..."

" I've heard about Forsaken attacks on the human villages", he snapped angrily.

The Dark Lady made a threatening move.

" We will slaughter anyone that stands in our way!"

"Including innocent women and children? You are doing nothing but to fuel the hatred for your kind and the frenzy of the Scarlet Crusade. Did you forget who your enemies are, Sylvanas?"

" What are we all if not slaves to this torment?" Her voice was now shriek, so close to the scream of the banshee within that Eireannan barely resisted the sudden urge to cover his ears with his hands. " What do those alive know about our suffering? About being trapped in this horrible nightmare, in your own, rotting flesh with nothing but your will left to set the world into movement?"

The Dark Lady rose and paced nervously in front of him. Her footsteps made almost no sound on the pavement, as she turned around to look again at the blood elf.

" Our kin turned into a handful of pathetic survivors, only able to scramble a mana potion to quench their addiction! The rest out in the Outlands, with that wanna be king of theirs, Kael'Thas, serving whom? the demon Illidan and the Burning Legion itself! Shunned by humans, our allies for so long...And us, that fought, turned into these...these monstrosities, barely managing to wrestle ourselves free from the control of that other monstrosity that is Arthas, may he burn forever in hell! Don't you see what we have all become?"

He didn't answer. This only seem to anger Sylvanas more. Then, suddenly, her attention shifted to Daria, as if she had just then noticed her presence. The human girl had retreated to one of the doors, leaning against it, obviously trying to cover her back in the eventuality of an attack. She avoided to look at the Dark Lady. Instead, her eyes were fixed upon Erieannan, with what seemed to be, at the same time, a mixture of worry and confidence.

Sylvanas Windrunner smiled again, in such a cruel way that Erieannan nearly stepped back. The voice of the Banshee Queen was now low, a whisper full of menace.

"You have no idea it meant to be a slave to the Lich King! Maybe you need a taste of that..."

Pain. Excruciating, awful pain, once again. He wanted to scream out and he couldn't. With terrifying clarity, Erieannan understood the abominable thing that what was going on. Possession.

He could still see as her body sagged and fell backwards, as if in slow motion. Her pressure against his mind increased, threatening to crush, making him surrender control. He could just watch in terror as his hand went to the dagger that clang at his side, unsheathing it in one single move. Then, he turned, facing Daria, who still leaned against the door, her eyes now wide with fear. A single gesture to cast a a curse, making her fall to her knees. He heard the thud as she hit the pavement, writhing in agony. And then he stepped closer, the dagger raised in his hand.

" What about this? How does it feel to have no control at all... To watch impotently as someone you care for...even for a little, dies...at your own hand...?"

Sylvanas' words now just a whisper in his head, as she pushed him further. Daria screamed, over and over again, but Eireannan could do nothing but watch, a captive in his own body, as his hand rose the dagger, prepared to deliver a fatal blow.

" No." Maybe it was something in his training as a priest...something he had long before forgotten and now surfaced, driven out by panic. He struggled with her overwhelming presence, putting up walls between them, securing a corner of his own, from which to strike back. Daria squirmed under his grasp, the dagger now centimeters away from her chest.

" You cannot stop it", Sylvanas whispered again. " You can only watch yourself kill her..."

" You bitch...!"


He lashed out at her so brutally that he managed to throw her out completely. Sylvanas had not expected resistance. The shock left Eireannan bent over Daria's body, the tip of the dagger nearly tearing her shirt. He quickly withdrew his hand, breathing heavily, then scrambled to his feet, sensing movement behind him.

Lady Sylvanas gave him a half mocking, half admiring look.

" I forgot they used to teach you priests how to resist mind control, didn't they?"

" Try that again..." he started, his tone now as low and threatening as hers had been. But the Dark Lady waved his words away, with a gesture.

" Don't challenge me, Eireannan, you cannot win. Now you know what it feels like. To be taken against your OWN will...What I've been through...all of us...even that lover of yours...what was her name?" She frowned upon the memory, as if the name was bizarrely eluding her. " Ranger Niniel Ain'Ethil, wasn't it?"

Eireannan froze at first, then, with a rushed gesture, picked up Daria's hand and set her up to her feet.

" She, at least, is at peace for long" he said clearly and slowly, his face nothing but an expressionless mask. " I took care of that."

"Yes you did...burned her to ashes, didn't you?" Lady Sylvanas close the distance between them and locked eyes with Erieannan. There were few those who could stand her lifeless gaze for long, but he did not try to avoid it.

" I feel no pity for the living", she said, her voice again sharp and disturbing"

"My point exactly", Eireannan muttered, then, turning around and dragging Daria, still dizzy and trembling, he left the throne room and slammed the door close behind.