Sylvanas stared in muted horror as Genn Greymane raised the artifact, then smashed it to the temple floor. Eyir rose up triumphantly, her bindings broken, glaring at the banshee as she claimed her freedom. For a moment, Sylvanas couldn't tear her eyes away, then made to raise her bow…

…and was cut short as a pair of twin swords buried themselves deep in her back.

Sylvanas snarled, fighting to get away, but the blades were only driven deeper, emerging through the skin beneath her collarbones. Through her haze of anger and pain, she realized with a start that she'd seen them before…just not in this form.

Frostmourne.

She could see the look of surprise on the Gilnean king's face, which only intensified when her new attacker spoke, the voice resonating from beneath her helm. "There's a reason they call me 'The Patient'," said the death knight behind her – the death knight who'd accompanied her here, the one who was supposed to be part of her plan. "Honestly," the other woman proclaimed, "I've been waiting to do this for years."

"You will pay for this—"

"The citizens of the Horde will not be 'arrows in your quiver', as the Forsaken have been," she spat. "You, banshee queen, have become far too much like Arthas Menethil. You cannot be allowed to continue on."

Sylvanas's eyes were wild, but their color was rapidly fading. "Traitor," she hissed.

"No," the other elf replied coldly, her voice so low it could only be heard by the banshee. "Deathlord."

The blades pushed through to their hilts, and then were withdrawn. Without them to hold her up, the Warchief crumpled to the stone floor, dead.

The death knight turned her pale blue gaze to the king of Gilneas, who hadn't moved since he'd destroyed the artifact. "We need to burn the body. There can't be any chance of her being raised." She turned away slightly and opened a leather pouch at her belt.

Genn recognized this as a gesture of trust on her part, that the worgen would not end her as she herself had just ended Sylvanas, but he had no idea why a blood elf death knight might have just killed the Warchief of the Horde. "Why would you do this?" he asked, the pain from the arrow in his shoulder receding as he sought to process these latest events.

"Garrosh Hellscream wasn't the only one who committed crimes against Azeroth," she declared, pouring the contents of her belt pouch over the remains of the banshee. Seaforium, Genn recognized the scent, as well as something else, something even more volatile. An accelerant. "In addition to plaguing your nation, assuring only the undead could safely inhabit those lands, Sylvanas has also been raising fallen Alliance soldiers as Forsaken. To fight for her against their former brothers. Arrows in her quiver, as she referred to them, with no regard as to what their own wishes might have been." The death knight paused. "And there have been atrocities committed in the Undercity by her apothecaries – against members of both the Alliance and the Horde – enough to make even a former minion of the Scourge shudder."

Genn couldn't see the woman's face, but her revulsion was clear in her voice. The blood elf stepped back, tossing a torch from the wall towards the body. It ignited with a bright flare, engulfed in flames almost immediately. "You obviously planned this out in advance," he observed.

"I've bided my time, waiting for an opportunity to present itself," she stated. "It finally did, and I thank you for that…because I must admit to a personal grudge against Sylvanas as well." The death knight moved further away from the body, which was rapidly disintegrating in the intense heat of the fire. "She imprisoned a member of my order in her dungeons years ago, another citizen of the Horde. It was only after she and a large retinue of Forsaken left for the Broken Isles that myself and another Ebon Blade colleague were able to sneak in and break him free. He is still unable to speak about what happened to him there." Now there was anger in her voice. "A death knight who can retell the horrors of being controlled by the Lich King…but unable to speak of this, of what he endured at the hands of a fellow high elf?" Her voice had softened to a cracked whisper. "What must she have done to him?"

Genn decided that he didn't want to know. "Who are you?" he asked, as they watched the flames completely overtake the body.

There was a pause before the death knight spoke again. "It's probably safer for us both if you don't know my name," she replied. "There are spells that can make a person replay pieces of memory, or that can let someone else inside your head. And there are other methods that can force people to tell the truth…but if you were to be questioned about this, you can truthfully say you don't know who was responsible, and you won't be interrogated further." She cleared her throat. "So you see, it's safer if I remain anonymous."

Genn knew this to be true. So he continued to stand there in silence with the death knight, watching until the banshee's body was entirely consumed. Once it was over, he felt an almost physical wave of relief at the sight of his son's murderer reduced to nothing but ash.

"Know this, Genn Greymane," the Ebon Knight said, as she summoned a death gate. "I am older than the Alliance, older than the Horde, and older than any grievance between your people and mine - there are many Gilneans in the Ebon Blade, and I count them as my friends and colleagues. I fought for Azeroth when the Horde first invaded this world, and it pained me greatly when my people allied themselves with their former enemies. I am pleased that we will both fight the Legion…if not together, then at least against a common enemy." She bowed her head slightly to him; and he returned the gesture, her final words echoing in his ears even after she stepped through the gate. "You are a good man and a fine leader for your people...and I hope we will both live to see the day that you re-take Gilneas."