"When they die, we die- one piece of us at a time."-Xandor the Morose

Truth be told she had been warned of this. Years ago, when she was just a wide eyed youth in Auberdine setting out across one of the first regular Stormwind galleons between her homeland and theirs. Her mother had come to her just as she set foot on that bulky vessel. It was a surprising visit, given the bitter commune fights of the preceding weeks. Her blunt advice still rang out across the years.

"We Kaldorei are trees among endless fields of flowers. Even with the Gift of the Aspects gone, the flowers will bloom and wilt a thousand times before the tree begins to die. "

She had clasped hands then, a rare gesture of affection from her.

"Make friends with the other races if you wish" she had spoken softly "but, for your own sake child, do not become attached. They will pass like seasons while you are left to mourn in their wake. Only in our own species can we find relationships that last the cruel hand of time."

Kindi had shook off the words of course, just like her mother and father and all her relatives up to her seven times still living grandmother had ignored her own views.

("We have centuries and millennia of accumulated wisdom, child. We know how the world works. You don't yet.")

She was sick to death of the lot of them, with their wisdom-worship and tortoise-slow pace and their myopic fixation on ten millennia old history at the expense of anything to come. The world had moved on from Azshara's days, and they should too.

Now, years after she booked a ship to Stormwind to start a new life, she reflected that her mother had been right about mortality- and wrong as well.

She had made friends- a gaggle of outcasts, misfits and oddballs that she would come to see as a new community, greater and more open than the old. For the first glorious seasons they wandered the scope of the known world, achieving deeds great and small as they sought to resolve the conflicts that awaited in the world and those that lurked within their own souls.

However, just as forewarned, spring and summer faded to fall and winter- seasons of life to those of death. New threats emerged, some vaguely hinted during that brief golden year and others the result of some terrible new revelation. She, her friends and the rest of their assorted kind rose to meet them again and again. Like a Tsunami (she winced momentarily) Azeroth's armies and champions overcame and crushed these threats again and again- yet in doing so, a little bit of themselves was left behind.

Few of her friends were left now- and only one with her now.

Even as she allowed her mind to wander to its typical forlorn place, air breezed through her hair at such a pace that it was almost like she was in a Stranglethorn storm once more. The ground blurred beneath her, reminding her of looking out from the Deeprun Tram. The endless forests moved on by as if they were swaying bystanders getting left behind. Yet this was not from any byzantine Gnomish artifice- her feet were as natural as they could be.

Under ideal conditions, the druidess was confident she could have run a hundred fifty mile distance in a single night. Perhaps two hundred if she pushed herself and without having to revert to one of her mammalian forms. Of course, that assumed she actually knew where she was going, that she wasn't waylaid as what occurred depressingly often on Azeroth and-

-She turned backwards, fixing a far figure with a gaze that was both one of exasperation and affection-

If... she wasn't currently paired with what was perhaps the slowest person on Azeroth. Mirth began to overtake the melancholic mood that had gripped her for much of the morning. In fact it filled her, the way anyone receiving good news on a terrible day would.

Said person's face was panting heavily, embarrassingly, at the exhaustion his menial efforts had brought. This was the twentieth time, today, that she had to slow her pace and backtrack to make sure he kept up. Yes, day- a time many of her people believed no sane or rational people should be awake during. He was more helpless than a newborn panther kitten- worse maybe, as the kitten at least had night vision.

Moreover, this was apparently a good day for him. Yesterday he managed to trip over a dozen obvious tree limbs, step into four very clear potholes and run in front of a very hungry bear. The Human was lucky that he was so blessed by his Light; otherwise that last event would have been the end of him. As it was she had doubled back just in time to watch the bear take a final single step before collapsing, its hide burned worse than if it had been in the center of a forest fire. The priest himself fixed her with an annoyed look, as if this was her fault, before making the several centimeter deep claw slash across his left arm disappear as if it never happened.

They had ate well that night at least. A druid might feel some residual discomfort at the death of a wildkin slain in such a manner, yet all but the most extreme of them recognized the right of a sentient being to self-preservation- whether that be from hunger or injury.

Her only demand was that they pray before the meal to the Great Bear spirit, apologizing for the necessity of its kinlings death and thanking it for the meal. To his credit the human had respectfully done this, though added in his own "May the Light bring you peace" at the end.

Over the last day, Kindihin came to wish the Light had granted him speed instead.

"At times like this I can't help but wonder if your folk love steel so much simply so that they can even better invoke the image of a tortoise, as if your speed wasn't already enough. "

The human, who was a man of cloth rather than steel, glared at her but was too out of breath to mutter a coherent reply. She continued.

" I don't know whether to curse you by your Light or my own Elune. Perhaps I should invoke them both, for only by combining forces can these divine entities overcome your handicap."

It could be done, Kindihin knew. She had seen Priests of Light and Moon utilize spells that boosted their speed, enough that even she struggled to keep pace with one of their practitioners. It was even fitting, Gneeli had once told her, for -scientifically speaking he had said- nothing natural moved faster than light. Unfortunately, her companion had not opted to learn it.

"By the light's sake" the priest shot out in one breath, before having to pause for a moment. When he recovered he continued "I am not a druid, Kindi. I am a priest, a man of cloth." He paused to cough, out of breath, and Kindi felt faintly embarrassed for him. " Priests read books, we bless our flock, and we become closer to the light. What priests do not do is run marathons through the woods. "

She laughed, rich and hearty- a belly laugh she had once learned from dear Bragg. Oh humans could be so ridiculous some times.

"You're joking! I once saw a Sister of Elune jog all night and day, and then half the following night. And she still had enough energy to help fight off a Naga incursion."

She also fought hand to hand when a Naga mymindon got too close for comfort, breaking the creature's neck with grace that would shame a Monk.

He scowled "I meant human priests."

She raised a finger to her chin, as if considering when in fact she already had a counterpoint ready

"I seem to remember Revil could keep up with his Worgen friend even after traveling through the night."

He snorted, loudly.

"Revil does not count. That priest uses his own hate and surliness as an inexhaustible energy source."

"The only thing I see as 'inexhaustible" is your capacity for excuses."

Still flushed, he said " I'll remind you again that you can go on without me. " He saw her gaze "I am serious Kindi, I'll be fine. The Light shall protect me. You can fly and will be much faster without me. "

Like it protected Gneeli, or Bragg, or even Radiant Calammy?

But she didn't voice such bitter thoughts-it would only provoke an argument she didn't want to have. She couldn't keep them from blowing away her good cheer as if it were morning mist.

Instead, she could hear her voice straining-

"I'd rather we stick together. Who knows what danger I could find up there. "

She meant, of course, what dangers he could find down here.

In truth, she certainly would have made it Shal'drassil weeks ago if she could have flown. But her wings were not strong enough to carry the human for long, and to move on ahead. And she could not leave him, not after-

The priest saw through her of course; he always could...and with the others as well. He had said once the Light could see through any shadow, whether it be physical or spiritual, and, she thought bitterly, she supposed this counted as one.

"Kindi" he began gently, and she hated him for it. "Gneeli's death was not your fault. You were not the one who drew the blade on him. It was the barbarian's fault; not yours."

"No" she said, a little more heatedly then intended "I am the one who he had to rescue, Fab. If I hadn't erred so badly against that filth-"

"-Then he may well have died against that same creature anyway. " The Priest gave a sad, but affectionate smile. "Come on, you knew Gneeli as well as I did. There was no way he would have left that battlefield without the scalp of the greatest of their fighters in his hand. No"he paused, considering " I don't think he mentally could have forced himself to leave."

His voice was kind, but firm; this was not the first time they had had this conversation. Kindi wondered if her continual remorse was starting to grate on her friend.

"If I hadn't been wounded, I could have put him to sleep with a pollen spell. I did that before, remember?" In her mind's eye, she saw a living tide of walking undeath, and a tiny figure that stood stubbornly before it like a rock before a Tsunami. "Or perhaps if we taken on our foe together, as we had so many times before. "

He pulled off his backpack and began pulling out supplies necessary for the night ahead. Blessed with some arcane Kirin Tor enchantment, their bags could hold far more than logic suggested they should- and weigh far less, too. She had stuffed entire suits of armor in there- rewards and trinkets from her deeds before and carried it all around as if it was as weightless as air.

"Kindi, you and I both know there was no winning that battle. We were outnumbered hundreds to one. Even if you had killed the barbarian chieftain, then what?"

"Then we would have escaped, and possibly saved more Dalaran lives in doing so."

She began gathering sticks, the smallest she could find, as they had done hundreds of times before. Though never, she reflected grimly, with this few in attendance

When at last he spoke, after many long moments, his voice was wistful

"So, do you believe Gneeli's death was my fault as well? I was not there to heal nor protect you."

She glanced over at him, two dozen sticks in her hands

"No, of course not. You were busy protecting Arclock's students. "

"They died anyway. Would you count their deaths against me?"

She scowled

"No, you did not slay them. In fact, you did everything to protect them."

"What about against the late Archmage? Would you fault him for not taking the precautions he should have, or not having the power of Khadgar?"

Kindi turned to him, her scowl deepening. She roughly cast the gathered sticks into the center of the makeshift campground, before almost idly raising her hands, her gaze still fixed on her friend

"Of course not, you are being ridiculous! Arclock took more pre-cautions then I had ever known a Kirin Tor to take and obviously far more than Khadgar ever would have! "

Indeed, Arclock had actually refused their request to cross over, deeming it unsafe. Had Khadgar been there and drawn the same conclusion about safety, he would done the opposite, sending adventurers on through gleefully and telling them that they would 'figure things out'.

"And blaming Arclock for not being as powerful as Khadgar is like blaming me for not being as potent as Malfurion, or you as Velen. It's silly, Fab. "

"So if you agree I am not at fault for not being able to intervene in time, if you agree Arclock was not at fault for predicting the impossible or being unreasonably powerful, why do you blame yourself for those things?"

"Because I screwed up! . I,...I mean" She put a hands to her forehead, the sticks having already grown into logs the size of her late Gnome friend. She continued, her tone wary "none of those incidents you list came about through ego! I got cocky Fab and tried to challenge the enemy chieftain one on one. If Gneeli wasn't there to rescue me-."

Suddenly, she felt a surge of energy and well-being that invigorated the body and touched the soul, washing away the guilt and doubt like it was rain flowing down from the tree leaves. For a second, her eyes magnified and adjusted to the spell, picking out even the very faintest traces of the light beyond even her normal elvish sight. Her skin felt warm as if she had been basking in the Tanaris sun. Momentarily, she even forgot what she was speaking of, so rejuvenating was the sensation.

And then it faded like the dimming of the night. A warm feeling remained, as it always did after she had been healed, but it was no longer as overwhelming to the entirety of her senses. For a second, she registered a faint disquiet yet couldn't quite place it..

Fabiano gave a wan smile "The Light heals spiritual as well as physical wounds, Kindi. However, in this case, the Light can only alleviate our inner hurts for a while its glow lasts."

He began reaching into his backpack, digging around before pulling out two enormous bedrolls made out of the finest Quel'dorei silk. It was a decadent item, one which would have revolted many of the old-fashioned in Darnassus who would have been upset at her for using something made from their reckless kin.

Fabiano tossed it to her and she caught it, as she had dozens of times before.

However, though the glow still affected her, a sense of dull melancholy and loss remained. As she rolled out the silk and tried to drift to sleep she asked

"Is this how you deal with the constant death, Fab? Just bathe in the light till it all goes away?"

She did not think he would respond, but when it came there was a note of sadness

"Everyone dies, Kindi. The best we can hope is to reunite with them one day in the Light."

It was a very... human thing to say.

The Kaldorei knew death, of course. In Kindi's mind, they knew it far better than any other race, for there were no people on Azeroth that lived closer to nature than her own. Death was a part of life and vividly she could remember watching, aghast, her mother's panther devouring a young doe.

She had learned that night about the circles of life, of the patterns that all the other creatures of the world would go through. Birth, Maturation, Breeding, and, the final and briefest state, death. Her father the druid had pointed to his wife's panther, the squirrels in the trees and the birds in the air. Every beast had come from the great animal spirits that walked the boundaries between the waking and dreaming worlds, he had said. When they died, they would return to these Great Spirits and live on forever.

Already at the age of seven, she had the seed of inquisitiveness, a little kernel that would eventually grow into restlessness and rebelliousness. If that is what happened to their brothers and sisters of the wilds then what, she asked, happened to the Kaldorei when they died?

He had smiled then and pointed to the bright lights that swirled around the trees.

("We too come from nature little one and one day we shall return to it")

She would eventually come to understand it intellectually but not empathetically. And, to be honest, what Kaldorei born in the last ten millennia would? Barring the rarest of accidents or the few, brief conflicts with their neighbors, most Kaldorei never knew death. Of course that Eldest Generation- those who had lived through the War of the Ancients- knew firsthand of loss and even in those days stood apart from the rest. There was a faint sadness in that generation's gaze, a melancholy that never fully dimmed with the passage of time.

Now, having traveled the world during these last turbulent years Kindi at last felt she understood their world view. Every friend made and lost during these last few years was a blow that would linger with her .

Yet her mother was still wrong in a way for though Kindi grieved for those companions who she had lost on her journey, the greatest blow came not from anything she witnessed but words she had heard-

-From the lips of a Darnassean Courier, who glumly informed her that her family had been washed away in the Cataclysm with the rest of Auberdine.

Her mother had been right, but wrong as well. The 'cruel hand of fate' had come to take her away just the same as tall the others.

(...)

Morning came and went without incident. Kindi spent the first groggy hour after her rise- for what sane being was awake at this hour!- picking berries, something she would not allocate to the human for he had invariably picked poisonous ones in the past. After another hour's breakfast the pair set off once more.

And once more, Kindi found herself quickly wishing that they had bound their hearthstones to somewhere other than the now overrun Kirin Tor camp. Or that they had not left their mounts in a Dalaran stable. Or-

Kindi broke from thoughts and, mid-bound, morphed her body into that of a Kalimdor panther. Her claws swiped out even as an enormous lupine form burst out from the underbrush. The wolf was clearly rabid, its mouth slobbering with some form of gelatinous green slime. Yet she was no helpless doe- she was a veteran and if the legion despoilers of Auchindon could not kill her, this creature certainly wouldn't.

All it took was a single swipe and her nine inch nails left the beast nearly decapitated on the forest floor.

She landed with a reflexive twist of the hips, already anticipating what was to come, for wolves never hunted alone.

She waited. Fabiano caught up, noisily and heavily panting, but straightened promptly upon sight of the dead wolf. There was a gleam of light, and the exhaustion seemed to dissipate a little. Kindi felt a moment's irritation- why didn't the priest do this while running?

The priest glanced around, as suspicious of an ambush as the Night Elf. He glanced at Kindi- and then his eyes widened as he examined the wolf more closely.

Frowning, Kindi looked down at her kill whose head was now only loosely attached to its body. Then she glanced lower-

And immediately jumped back.

The Wolf's lower stomach bubbled before her eyes with a gelatinous slime so thick that she was reminded of the aftermath of Southshore. No doubt it was just as contaminated and foul. Faintly, it almost looked like something writhed from within the slime.

And then there was a burst of the light, which enveloped the creature in its embrace. Momentarily blinded, when she came to a second later the beast was gone as if it never were.

But what it left behind, its trail, was not.

Fabiano and Kindi shared a look before wordlessly agreeing to follow, each of them feeling a respective duty, not only as champions of the world but as their respective professions, to purge the taint.

They didn't have to travel far, as bloody footprints began to turn into faint piles of gory viscera.

And then they found the wolves' den.

The phrase "Butchered as if by a wild animal" was a horribly inaccurate and trite human expression. Wild animals did not hunt to cause suffering or bloodshed- they killed for sustenance, nothing more. Most bodies she had found done in by beasts were remarkably clinical- perhaps a slash from a claw here or there, but usually done in by a pair of incisors through the neck.

This however.

It was like looking at a scene from the inside of a Scourge Slaughterhouse. Viscera and guts hung in impossible places- whole carcasses separated by multi-meter distances that could only come from someone deliberately pulling them there. The faces of the deceased wolves had clearly been mauled for some time-both before and after death. And, amidst the five that bore no signs of corruption, were two others that did.

They were both sickly green, covered in boils and warts much like the first. One of them had an eye so filled with pus that it bulged out of the socket; it looked ready to pop. The other had a tentacle that had emerged from its back- an appendage that writhed a little as she glanced at it.

Fabiano saw it too and with a hastily muttered prayer called the Light down. For the quickest micro-second, Kindi was sure she could have heard the barest hint of a screech of agony before the limb fully evaporated into dust.

As he had with the first beast, Fabiano knelt down and began beseeching the light once more to purge the corruption.

She turned her attention to the other bodies.

In her mind's eye she could picture a likely sequence for how this atrocity unfolded.

It was earlier in the morning and in her vision she could see a hunting pack of wolves leaving the den and the nursing mothers staying behind to tend to their young.

After an unknown amount of time, the hunting party would have returned. Or at least a few of them, as she remembered wolves typically hunted in larger packs then three. At first the matrons would have rushed outside to greet their kith and kin, tails wagging, eager to feast on whatever the hunters had brought.

Only to stop in their tracks as soon as the stench hit them and they got close enough to get a clear picture of their returning mates. Instincts would have caused the hair on their backs to stick straight. A desire for flight would war with a desire to fight and with their pups back in the den, the matron's latter instinct would have won.

They would have growled a message- back off. Whether triggered by this or having come with murder on their fetid minds from the outset, the corrupted would have then attacked. Judging by the wounds on the first wolf- and the corpses even now being purified- the matrons fought bravely, valiantly, but vainly.

The Hunters would have been the strongest of the tribe, mutated by powers most fel and, even outnumbered, the ultimate outcome favored them.

And it had. Even if only by one.

And that sole surviving wolf- angered into rabidity by corruption, perceived betrayal and pain, would have turned his hateful gaze back to the den and

Kindi opened her eyes and walked towards the opening. She glanced back and immediately wished she had human eyes. That way she wouldn't have seen anything.

Once she would thrown up. She supposed she had the Scourge to thank for destroying her gag reflex.

Grimly, she went into the cave to bring out what lay within. The bodies of the uncorrupted would be returned to the earth; the corrupted burned by Fabiano's Holy Light.

AN NOTE:

So it is been a while since I last updated, both this and the main story, Chronicles of Convergence. Rest assured this is not because I have abandoned the story- far from it, I have actually written around 40,000 words. Rather, I have been focused on where I want to go with worldbuilding, how AU I want to be, and other issues. Expect a longer post on the next Chronicles update which, if all goes well (I am 16k words in) should be later this month.

Also, I will note, that if you ever fear I am dead or abandoned the fic, you are free to message me. I usually get back within a week.

That said, I have some long overdue Author Responses to make.

Guest
Certainly. I think I have written 5000 words on the Hinterlands of Khuresh that you may or may not see out later this year.

Wom1
Thank you! I hope the next chapter of Chronicles of Convergence satisfies you, as it is absolutely full of it from every angle.

The True Skull

Ehh I get that. Its just there is a difference between hating Elune and hating Elune enough that you want to kill all your living loved ones in the service of one who genocided your people.

Carre

I have already written something big that involves Ind…and Cathay, Khuresh, not-Pacifia and more! Hopefully you will see it out later this year.

MadFrog2000

Soon, very soon.

Guest

I am starting to address it. Check out some of the author notes sections of the main Chronicles of Convergence for my piece on technology. I think Ill address logistics and teleportation in the distant future as well. Ill note that I actually have the problem you address with mages and food be an important plot point.

EVA-Saiyajin

Thank you sir! I like writing metaphysical, and am going to try to do so again in the near future.