Fate of a Shard

Ceitidh stands on the cliffs, looking out over the expanse of the sea. The drums of Revantusk can be heard on the wind to the south, and the call of sea birds echoes off the rocks. The sin’dorei’s armor lay piled in a heap by a nearby tree. Cridhe, the hawk owl, roosts above, keeping watch. A flash of red catches the sunlight as Orain settles at the huntress’ feet. Farther down the slope, a hawkstrider, Gaothan, hunts for berries in the bushes.

Sitting with grass-stained feet hanging, Ceitidh strokes the dragonhawk’s back. “It just looks like a piece of glass... and yet… It is such a valuable thing.”  Images and memories fill her mind, making her shudder. Cridhe carries her cloak over to the elf, and she wraps it over her shoulders.

''Killorn laying on the floor of the chamber of the Na’ru in Silvermoon… Lilithia kneeling beside him, implanting the shard in his chest. The shard containing most of the demon, and a bit of Killorn’s soul as well. Listening to his pain was almost more than she could handle. Through it all, he said he would endure the pain and the risk- for Ceitidh’s sake.''

''An amazing recovery- his strength not wanting, but doubled. Killorn tossed her in the air and caught her again, breathless and hopeful. For a few minutes, a few blessed minutes, she thought everything would be fine. A part of the demon remained, and she could deal with that. But no, he wanted it all gone…''

''Ceitidh never liked the felhound anyhow. Close enough to a beast, yet still a demon, she could feel its malice. The rest of the demon not contained by the shard was poured into the hound. She found him laying on the pavement of Silvermoon exhausted, but the demon was gone. Or at least contained…''

''“It’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride in her dress before the wedding” Ceitidh held the precious white silk close to her, still shaking with excitement. Killorn leaned over and kissed her forehead. “But it’s even worse for a tailor to not see his finest work on a beautiful woman. Plus, I need to make certain it fits.” He shooed her into a room upstairs, and turned his back so she could change. Once the gown was on, he stared speechless, then pulled her close, kissing her passionately. “It is perfect. As are you…”''

''A movement in the shadows caught their attention. Someone else was in the room- and had been watching! Killorn was furious… grabbed the rogue and threw him from the room. Lilithia came into the inn in time to see the scuffle. There was an evil flame in his eyes as he continued to beat on the rogue- deaf to Ceitidh’s pleas to stop. Lilithia asked why- it was the demon’s voice that snarled the reply. “He watched Ceitidh… watched her change… He saw her undressed…He shouldn’t be anywhere near her…” Lilithia turned to Ceitidh. “Is his temper normally this bad?” Ceit sniffled and shook her head. “No- he’s so gentle with me…” “If he ever lays a hand on you girl, I will bite his arm off.”''

''Ceitidh caught his arm to keep him from running out into the streets. “He’s gone, Love. Just leave it be… it isn’t worth it… come, sit…” She pleaded with him, knowing deep down he could not truly hear her- the demon had taken hold of the rage. Killorn grabbed her arm and pulled her roughly. “You belong to me, my Ceitidh.” He slowly ran his fingers through her hair, then snarled, and pulled her to the floor. “Now don’t interfere.” Suddenly, he wrenched backwards with a roar- Lilithia had clamped her teeth on his arm.''

''The scuffle continued for what seemed like days. Ceitidh was pinned to the floor- her hair under Killorn’s foot. Lilithia bit and scratched until all three were covered in blood. Finally worn down, Killorn collapsed on the floor. His hand found the knife that had been dropped earlier, and before they could pull it away, there was a cut down his chest. He looked to Ceitidh, and his eyes softened. Resolved, he pulled the shard from his chest and dropped it in Lilithia’s hand. With a sigh, he passed out. Lilithia’s voice snapped Ceitidh to attention. “Remember you said you were good with first aid? Well, you’d better get to it, girl, before he dies of blood loss.”''Lilithia patted her pocket, standing resolutely in front of Killorn. “I will keep the shard until I think you are strong enough to face this demon. Not before then. You still have much to learn. And I can study this while I wait."''

Ceitidh paused. “And it’s still in her pocket... or is it? And where is he…?” ---

The light of the campfire glistens off the huntress’ armor- cleaned, and ready for the morning’s trials. Ceitidh leans against a tree, blanket wrapped close against the night. The paper in her hands has been folded and re-folded so many times. She runs her finger over the words as she reads once again…

''My Darling Ceitidh,

It seems I can smile again, and my heart once again beats full of love for you.

''I thank you for being there to comfort me in my most desperate times. You have stood with me against so much. I thank you for all you have given me- your encouragement and love.''

I could ask for nothing more than what I already have- and that is you, Lady Ceitidh Alarion.

I keep you safe within my heart.

Sincerely, Killorn''

With a sigh, she folds the letter once more, tucking it into a pocket. She closed her eyes, laying her head on her pack, and pulling the blanket close. Her dark hair fell over her face, hiding the tear running down her cheek.

The huntress let her memories flood over her, trying to remember the warmth.

''Exhausted from the hunt, she returned to Silvermoon. Killorn waited there for her. He helped her remove her armor, even cleaning it himself as she told of her adventures. He gently rubbed her tired shoulders and feet, catching her off guard and tickling her until she fell off the couch. A glass of wine bought for them to share, and they sat together relating dreams and plans. They talked long into the night, until neither could keep their eyes open any longer. He kissed her tenderly, enfolding her in his arms as they drifted off to sleep. She had never felt so warm, so safe, so loved. In the still darkness of the night, she lay with her head on his chest, listening in amazement to the beating of his heart. She would go through anything to keep it that way- even giving up her own life. And she knew without any doubt that he felt the same. She twisted a strand of his hair around her finger, brushing a hand over his cheek as he held her tighter, whispering her name in his sleep. Some moments are perfect- filled only with peace, love, and hope.''

Hope. It seemed a bit far away now out in the wilds. But with sleep would come dreams. And if all she had left were dreams, she would take them. She tried hard to imagine- to feel his arms around her once more. ---

Ceitidh laughed from her perch in the tree. It’s no wonder these call each other family. And also no wonder that so many others want to be a part of it. Orcs, Trolls, Forsaken, Tauren, and Sin’dorei joking and talking together as if they’d been friends for ages. Well, maybe some have, but…

Some she’d watched, helped, and even hunted with. They seem trustworthy- and knowledgeable. ''and silly.. that’s important..'' More understanding than others, perhaps..

''Lilithia smiles, holding the shard up between her fingers. “A simple, average, mortal soul- that replenishes! This is a great discovery!”  Ceitidh could hardly understand what the warlock was talking about, but she was obviously very excited. Her head spinning, she only caught phrases. “immense power…renewable…as long as breath is drawn..” The last phrase snapped her to attention. “As long as breath is drawn? His?” “Well, the shard is good, living or dead. However, his life means more shards can be collected. From any subject, really.” The huntress shuddered, watching the light in the forsaken woman’s eyes. How far would ‘scientific curiosity’ go?''

''“Well, he’s probably dead then.” Zurrikan’s voice sounded matter-of-fact, but the words slapped her across the face. “No..no! No, he’s not…” “Come see me, girly, let’s talk.”  She kept more of her armor on- partially in case the city alarms sounded, partially to feel stronger. The man’s story was a hard one to comprehend, and she felt sorry for him in some ways- but still feared him. He moved slower, his breathing more labored than it had been. He told her how the demon within’s strength was diminishing- and taking him with it. Suddenly he jumped- a fire in his eyes. “Of course! Why hadn’t I thought of it earlier? Does Emberfall still have that shard, girl?” “Well, yes.. but…” “I’ve dealt with this demon for so long, certainly I can handle the boy’s demon whelp.”  Ceitidh stood. “What do you want?” He explained that he would use the shard to keep himself from becoming in essence, a wraith. “But it holds part of my Killorn’s soul, too.”  “He’s likely dead- but I won’t do it without your permission.”  Ceitidh shook her head. “He’s Not!” Zurrikan shrugged. “Whatever you say. But would he not give up part of his soul to save another? You said he was a good man.” “He is.. but..” “Think about it, girly. But don’t take too long.”''

So now what? She hears the wilderness calling, wants to loose herself there. But the possibility of friends- of lighthearted fun…

Ceitidh leans back on the tree limb and smiles. They’ll be there if she needs them, and the wilderness will always be calling.