Thank you Lightrunner for reviewing! I'd also like to thank everyone who's favourited, followed, and just read this!

Well, here's the promised epilogue and, with this, brings this story to a close! I honestly was hoping for more feedback from you guys, but it's okay. The Delroys want their story to be shared and I won't stop until it is in its entirety.

All in all, this was super fun to write! The next story should come within the next few weeks; I've got two other fics I gotta update and I've been neglecting them in favour of getting this story done... I will edit this with the title of the next fic once it's posted!

From the bottom of my heart, thank you for taking the time to read this story. I will see you in the next one!

EDIT: The next installment is out! Check out Letters From Across the World! The link is in my profile! Thank you and I'll see you there!

"Well, we're certainly not in Gilneas anymore."

Jeanne snorted at her own joke as she watched the foreign land of Azuremyst Isle—all lit in hues of blue and purple—slide past her. The sense of calm she had since leaving Teldrassil, partly due to her being on a ship, started to slip away and was replaced by nervousness. Worse yet, she had no one here to give her comfort; she was truly on her own for the first time in her life. She never realized how much she relied on her brothers to be there for her until this very moment, and the vulnerable feeling did not sit well with her.

The gentle bump of the ship halting and jokes being exchanged in that odd accent the Draenei possessed brought her out of her thoughts. She smiled a bit, the cheer lifting her own mood some, stepped onto the deck proper and waited while the crew tied the boat and lowered the gang plank. Hoisting her full pack higher on her shoulder, Jeanne stepped off the ship behind the representatives, resisting the urge to gawk at the scenery like a bumpkin. A female draenei in gleaming plate armour stood off to the side. Her dusky skin and mahogany hair—pulled up in a simple tail—stood out drastically from her peers and caught Jeanne's gaze immediately. The draenei looked her up and down, nodded, and approached her.

"Greetings," she said, her voice as accented as her people, though slightly deeper, rounder. "You must be the human that Prophet Velen said would come. I am Vindicator Murua, assigned to escort you to the Prophet."

Jeanne shifted her weight, feeling unease prickle at her words. "Jeanne. Pleasure to meet you."

Murua nodded sharply and pointed to the gaping entrance just a few yards from them. "The quickest way would be through there. If you will follow me, Jeanne."

The druid fell into step behind the draenei, now allowing herself to gape at the violet and gold architecture the hallway was constructed of. Her heart dropped when she saw it come to a, seemingly, abrupt halt and discovered just how much of the city is underground. The Vindicator paused, an amused smirk playing at the corners of her lips, and stomped a hoof on the expanse of thin, clear crystal she was standing on.

"Perfectly safe."

Steeling her nerves, Jeanne cautiously stepped onto it and tested her weight on it. When it did not give, she let out a breath she didn't know she was holding and proceeded. The soft tingle of magic tickled her feet through her boots as she walked, adding to the jittery feeling of being so high above the residents. Soft golden light shone down upon them from above, painting everything in a wan yellow.

When they finally got to the ground floor, Murua walked right past a huge, glowing image of what, Jeanne assumed, was a demon of some sort. The very feminine demon winked at them as they passed, and though the draenei paid the image no mind, Jeanne couldn't help but stare at her.

"This is the Vault of Lights," Murua commented, waving a hand out at the softly glowing room.

"I can see why," Jeanne muttered, craning her neck to glimpse the crystals jutting out of the ceiling.

"This way," the draenei called, bringing her attention back on her. "The Prophet's chambers aren't far."

Readjusting her pack, Jeanne followed her guide, trying her best to keep her attention on the draenei in front of her and not on the splendor of the Exodar. She was lead into a chamber lit by a pillar of swirling violet light that stunned Jeanne into stillness. Murua, as if knowing the druid's emotions, paused and allowed her to gape at the area.

"This is the Seat of the Naaru. Below us is where O'ros resides."

"Who's O'ros?"

The draenei sent her an unreadable look. "Our resident Naaru."

Jeanne bit her tongue when a flare of temper rose up. It's not her fault that she has no idea what her guide was talking about! But now was not the time to set this woman straight on a few things.

Her guide, deciding that the druid had gawked enough, turned left and strode towards a domed structure, painted a deep gold, that seemed to grow out of the wall. There were a pair of large imposing draenei dressed in armour even more ornate than her guide's and holding blades the width of one of her thighs. They eyed the pair as they approached and one of them stepped in front of the doorway, effectively blocking it with his bulk.

"I am Vindicator Murua, appointed guide of Prince Anduin Wrynn's guard. We seek audience with the Prophet and the Prince."

The guard glanced at Jeanne, who held his gaze with a defiant one of her own, and he nodded. "Very well. You may pass."

He stepped back to his previous position and the two women strode past him. They passed another pair of guards, who nodded at them, and finally they came to the Prophet's personal chambers. The door was ajar, allowing a familiar aged voice to filter through.

"—doing well, young Anduin. Now, let us turn our attention to his passage here—"

Murua pushed the door the rest of the way and his voice paused at the interruption.

"Prophet Velen, Prince Anduin. I have lead the human guard here as you asked."

"Thank you Vindicator Murua. Please come in."

Jeanne squeezed past the armoured draenei and bowed to both occupants.

"Lady Delroy!" a familiar voice exclaimed and she glanced up. Anduin's youthful face was open in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

Both their presences calmed the worgen enough to drop her polite facade and sent the prince a small grin. "Well, if I understand my assignment well enough, I am to be your new day guard."

Hope sparked in his cornflower eyes and a tiny grin danced on his lips. "So that means my father..."

"Accepted us? Yes." Jeanne straightened and dug around in one of her hip packs, drawing out a rolled missive sealed with the elves' mark. "I'm just as surprised. My letter of introduction, Prince Anduin."

He took it and broke the seal. His eyes darted over the letter, widening slightly when they reached the bottom. "This is penned by Archdruid Malfurion himself!"

A wry grin twisted her lips. "Yes, though I know him as Master."

His shocked stare jumped up to her. "You're his apprentice?"

"Was," she corrected, "We both had our duties to attend to."

Anduin nodded and skimmed the letter again, re-rolling it a few moments later and stashing it in his pocket. He looked up at Jeanne and gave her a warm, welcoming smile.

"Well, it's good to have you, Lady Jeanne. Would you mind terribly with recounting what happened to lead up to this?"

Jeanne glanced at the Prophet and he inclined his head towards an empty seat next to Anduin. Taking the hint, she quickly seated herself, taking a moment to drop her heavy pack next to her feet, and turned towards her new liege.

"Well, it starts like this—"