This is a prequel/oneshot from my first two stories, Treason and Ann'da. It CAN stand alone and doesn't have any spoilers for the other two. I suggest reading my other two stories if you like this one though!

This story was fun to write and I may do a few more oneshots in the future. I included some of my favorite quotes as well. Currently, I'm working on a full length story but I'm not sure on the timing for it.

As always, I own nothing other than my characters. And I hear good things come to reviewers... /wink wink

The imposing and tall trees were blanketed in a tranquil glow, glimmering specs of arcane falling from the branches. The air harbored a great amount of humidity, the blossoming plants and vibrant leaves relishing in the environment. With a great multitude of various wildlife and beasts in the area, both aggressive and passive, the echoes of their presence would ring through the air. The serenity of Terokkar Forest didn't go unnoticed by the paladin.

Dropping his helm beside him on the grassy yet rocky plain, the male blood elf released a sigh. Kneeling beside the sparkling pond, he gently dipped his hands into the untouched surface, watching his action disturb the waters. Similar to the air, the water carried a slight warmth to it, though he savored the soothing elements as he splashed the water on his face. Born and raised in Silvermoon City, the stagnant and harsh humidity was more than uncomfortable, his heavy plate armor adorning his body exasperating as much.

Taking a hesitant and observant glance around himself, the blood elf carefully inspected his peaceful surroundings as he strained his hearing. Satisfied at not finding or hearing another, he delicately unbuckled the plate covering his legs and shoulders, relaxing slightly at the increase in air hitting the sweating areas. However much he despised the environmental elements, he couldn't dwell on them long. Sparing an annoyed glance forward at the waterfall before him, he didn't have to look further to know what lay ahead. At the bottom of the waterfall, nestled between the rock formations and away from prying eyes was Skettis, the Arakkoa's capital.

Removing his broad sword from his back, the blood elf placed it beside him as he gave it a quick look over. Thick splatters of blood swathed the once glimmering and majestic surface, though he did little to dwell on the thoughts. No doubt the Arakkoa capital was up in arms about the recent assassination and brutal attack on the city, their assailant gone before retribution could be taken. His muscles still harboring a slight ache in his movements, the paladin brought his hand down to the water to properly clean and tend to the weapon. His rendezvous point was in Nagrand beyond the vast mountains before him in the following days; he had ample time to settle and rest.

About to dip his hands in the water once again, the paladin felt his blood turn cold at the extra reflection staring back at him. Two gleaming silver eyes fastened on him, while a pair of imposing and sharpened blades rose quickly and menacingly.

His own hands wrapping hastily around the hilt of his sword, the blood elf scrambled to bring the blade up in time to parry the downward assault. Rolling expertly away from his assailant, he silently cursed himself for removing his armor. Quickly blocking a fatal sideswipe of a sharpened sword, the paladin met the steel gaze of his attacker. The night elf's light purple skin seeming to offer a slight glow in the limited rays of sunlight, the paladin didn't miss the disgusting blue and gold insignia of the Alliance fastened to the warriors arm. Nor could he miss the heavy plate that graced his tall figure, making his attacks land all the harder.

Feigning a fontal slice, the blood elf just barely side stepped a low swipe that, if landed, would've left him immobile. Not allowing himself to pay it much heed, he attempted his own fatal blow. Watching in astonishment as his harsh attack landed brutally on the night elf's plate chest piece, he was shocked at not seeing the least bit of harm done to his attacker. Swallowing thickly, his chest constricting nervously at what he assumed to be a mocking glare from the warrior, it was painfully obvious he wasn't only outgeared, but outskilled as well.

His mind quickly concentrating on a spell, the paladin felt his reserve of energy deplete itself ever so slightly as the ground beneath him began to violently glow with fervent holy energies. Unable to see much of the night elf's features due to his helm and imposing armor, he could only base his assumptions on the confident and assured stance his foe displayed. Squeezing his grip harder on the warm hilt, the blood elf felt his unease increase double fold at the throaty laugh that echoed through the thick forest. The night elf, the debasing and mocking chuckles still escaping his mouth, spared an unimpressed glanced at the consecrated ground before returning his attention to the apprehensive paladin.

The severity of the situation was becoming painfully obvious to the blood elf. Though he was a trained soldier of the Horde with much experience in his tender years, he was smart enough to admit when his chances for survival were paltry. Taking a deep and slowing breath, willing the action to calm his wits, he gripped his blade in more severity.

Without so much of a noise, the warrior brutally charged the nervous blood elf, the only indication for the surprising attack being the exchange of wind. Regardless, the paladin could only feebly draw his sword up in an attempt to thwart of the attack, the twin blades delicately slicing the air. His already sore and worn muscles buckling under the brute strength of the night elf, he felt himself slowly backpedaling away. The dancing swords slamming into him with, what seemed to be, a steady increase in force and power, he found himself struggling to bring his own weapon up in time to parry the attacks.

Drawing on his energy, the blood elf concentrated on the channeling his reserves of energy into his spell in mind. Releasing a bolt of holy energy into the warrior, it seemed to have the same effect as his earlier holy attack; the night elf neither flinched nor showed any expression to the sharp jolt. Dodging a low swipe near his leg, his movements slightly slowed from his weak and poor attempt at the holy spell, he didn't recognize the feint until it was too late. The second blade instantly was at his side, the sharpened and ominous edge slicing through his unprotected side in sickening ease. Releasing a cry as the weapon ravished his body, he struggled to keep himself conscious and mindful of the fight still ongoing.

Hastily and sloppily backpedaling from the night elf, the paladin released a small moan as he glanced down at the menacing wound. Though the slice didn't harm any vital organs, the sincere amount of blood lose would ultimately result in his demise. Lying a hand on the open wound, the dark red liquid gushing through his fingers, he concentrated on the dire yet imperative spell. While he had a notion that he'd be left fatigued and further worn from the spell, he couldn't consider his alternatives. A faint white glow emanating from his hand, the blood elf released a small sigh of relief as the viscous wound delicately closed, the bleeding and sharp pains immediately ceasing.

The familiar feeling of tiredness blanketing over his features, the paladin couldn't pay it much thought. Resting his eyes on the warrior, the night elf's head cocked to the side in a mocking fashion, the blood elf took a deep breath and sent a silent prayer to the Light.

Nearly immediately the pair of blades were slicing through the air at the blood elf once again. Though he no longer felt the sharp pains of the wound, he felt his joints and muscles rebelling against his commands to move. The night elf, however, had seemed to somewhat ease up on his swings, the blades landing with less animation and strength. Though the parries still caused the paladin to grimace at the harsh vibration it sent up his arms, he mutely contemplated the cause of the warrior's pace. Regardless, he couldn't deny the energy that was rapidly escaping his body, his attacks and parries threatening to respond in a timely manner.

The two elves engaging in a deadly dance of glimmering swords swinging through the air, only to be parried or dodged, several beats passed. Recognizing that the fight couldn't continue on forever and having a small knowledge of who'd be victorious, the paladin allowed a growl of frustration pass through his lips. His weapon held steadily in one hand, he propelled himself forward at this opponent.

The night elf's reaction was precisely what he was looking for. Hesitating for a mere split second, it offered the blood elf all the time he needed. Throwing himself on the warrior's plate covered body, quickly ignoring the sharp pains that resonated through his body at the harsh content, he quickly capitalized on the element of the surprise. Barely noticing the half foot deep water that they landed in, the paladin quickly brought his free hand up to grip one of his assailants' twin blades. In the midst of the fervent battle, the two had migrated close to the rocky edge of the cascading waterfall. Hastily throwing the light sword over the edge, he knew the opportunity to follow the same routine with the other weapon was unlikely.

A harsh and painful punch crashing into his cheek, the blood elf felt his head snap to the side and his grip on his own weapon loosen. The larger and stronger body under him pushing him to the side, the night elf followed a similar action and slammed the other elf into the callous bedrock of the pond. A second punch landing in his unprotected midsection, the blood elf felt all the air in his lungs be ruthlessly forced from his body and his stomach roll threateningly. Moaning at the dull aches that pulsed from the attack, he shamefully felt the hilt of his sword be ripped from his grasp as the warrior tossed the weapon to the side.

The heavy body pinning him down, the blood elf hastily chanted the sacred words to the strong holy attack he was sure would get to reaction he sought. The warrior occupied with rapidly and quickly gazing around him in a useless search for his missing blade, he didn't realize the incoming attack before the last bit left the Horde soldier's lips. Though the exorcism didn't produce the demobilizing and fatal effects the paladin had hoped, it offered enough to jolt the warrior back several paces; his flailing arms producing splashes of water.

His energies fully spent while his body pleaded for rest, the paladin forced his limbs to comply with his wishes and pushed himself to his feet. Coming prepared for battle, he only wished he would have been closer to the leather bag he left by the side of the pond with his gear. Potions and flask of water generously awaited him. Without the use of his weapon and his sincere depleted energies, he was rendered useless and defenseless against the menacing Alliance soldier.

About to spring back to his gear and escape, the blood elf heard the annoyingly familiar noise of the exchange of air. Feeling the warrior charge into him, the effects of the exorcism apparently not lingering long, the paladin was taken by even more surprise when he felt himself thrown into the air. Expecting to feel the harsh crash of the sharp rocks meet his body, his nervousness increased dramatically at being disappointed. The night elf's cruel and firm hands gripping his shoulders roughly, the paladin glanced around himself to realize their truly portentous and ominous situation. The edge of the waterfall quickly becoming far in the distance as the two elves free fell down the cascading stream of water, he swallowed a thick lump that unexpectedly formed his throat. Though the distance of the fall wasn't great, it was what awaited them at the bottom that caused him slight fear.

The vice grips not loosening in the slightest, the blood elf felt himself intuitively tense as his back had a violent meeting with the rippling and jubilant waters beneath him. Hastily taking a generous gulp of air, he clenched his eyes shut as he felt the shockingly frigid waters wash over his face and his body become rapidly submerged. Preparing to swing his arms before him in attempt to quell off the pulling grasps, he was subdued as a sharp and pronounced pain pulsed from the back of his head. Feeling the edges of his vision darken menacingly, his unsteady grasp on consciousness swiftly slipping from him, the paladin futilely fought the painful vertigo that overcame his sinking body. His limbs no longer heeding to the dire commands as an uncanny darkness blanketed his consciousness, he sent a quick and desperate prayer to the Light as blackness conquered him.

Pain was the first sensation to return to him.

A callous and harsh explosion of pain throbbed from the back of his head as the blood elf felt his mind slowly awakening. A dull ache emanating from his chest with each short and unsteady intake of breath, a noticeable wheezing sounding from the action, he could only ponder on how many of his ribs were snapped or bruised. While he could possibly disregard the uncomfortable aches from his chest, the ruthless pounding in his head wasn't as kind. However much his body pleaded and begged for him to succumb to the comforts of sleep, it seemed the wound on his head had other plans in mind.

His eyes still not quite prepared to open, he felt himself forcefully turn his head. Emitting a deep moan of pain as the wound on his head cruelly rubbed against the hard surface beneath him, the paladin felt his grasp on his minute and tremulous consciousness waver. However, it seemed to offer the adequate amount of stimulation to jolt the rest of his senses awake. Sensations and feelings of his limbs returning to him, the elf confusedly realized he was lying haphazardly on his back. The throbbing pain intensifying as his consciousness did, he felt his heavy eyes flutter open.

His vision filling with the dark gray of a jagged and defined rock ceiling, the blood elf rapidly blinked as his wavering and fuzzy vision righted itself. The bemused cobwebs in his mind desisting and clearing, he felt his senses heighten. Slowly and gingerly pushing himself up on his elbows, wincing as the movement caused his stomach to flip threateningly, he leaned back on his hands as he glanced around himself.

The walls following a similar suit to that of the ceiling, they were constructed of moist rocks, a small glimmer of light bouncing off their glistening surface. Running an unsteady hand through his short blond hair, taking notice to the dampness that was left on his digits, the blood elf puzzlingly replayed the past day's events. He easily recalled commencing and finishing his mission successfully as he slowly moved his emerald eyes over walls nearest to him. He remembered climbing the rough terrain and rocks to the serene pond in hopes of resting before proceeding to his rendezvous point for pick up. Tilting his head to the side in slight curiosity at the dancing flames that reflected on the rock walls, he slowly turned his head and gaze to inspect the other side of the cave. His heart skipping a beat and his breath hitching in his throat, the paladin blinked at the pair of eyes that stared back at him; the memories of the run in with the Alliance soldier crashing down on him.

A blazing fire constructed between them, the blood elf felt his body and senses tense under the examining gaze of the night elf. The notable plate armor no longer adorning his figure, the sculpted and toned muscular build of the warrior didn't go unnoticed from the paladin. Hesitantly tearing his gaze away from the inspecting silver eyes, he found the deadly and daunting twin blades resting beside the night elf, his anxiety and apprehension mounting drastically.

A throaty and deep laugh echoing off the rock walls, the blood elf swallowed nervously and fidgeted slightly as the warrior pushed himself to his feet. Nearly a foot taller than himself with an impressive body structure that made his own pale in comparison, he kept his defensive and observant gaze fastened on the Alliance soldier as he slowly approached. Though his build displayed his fierce and well deserved rank, whatever it may be, the night elf's movements still harbored a sense of serenity and grace to them.

Suddenly stopping a few paces short before the shifty blood elf, the warrior lifted a sculpted and curious brow. His deep voice letting loose a string of Darnassian, the night elf waited several seconds. The paladin's distrustful and nervous expression responding him, the warrior opted to change tactics. "Do you speak Common?"

His face lighting up slightly at comprehending the words, the blood elf offered a small nod of his head in reply. The action exasperating the lump on the back of his head, he didn't bother masking his grimace.

"Good," the night elf replied, his words dripping thick with his accent, as he slowly and delicately approached the other elf. "I haven't brushed up on my Thalassian in quite some time."

Instinctively drawing away as the warrior assumed a crouched position beside him, the blood elf swallowed nervously at the close proximity. Acknowledging his depleted energy source and sincere lack of a formable weapon, he was rendered defenseless against the Alliance soldier. Though his counterpart didn't weld a weapon or gear of his own, his dire and painful wounds placed him at a sincere disadvantage. The vulnerable sensation of lying helpless before the night elf becoming unbearable, he forced and willed his limbs to comply with his desire to stand.

A large and heavy hand immediately falling on his shoulder, stilling his movements, the paladin sent a fearful and hesitant glance at the warrior.

"Be at peace, young one," the night elf began as he tucked a loose strand of his cascading blue hair behind is ear, his amused voice smooth and calm. "My name is Elidin. I assume you speak Common as well?"

The warm and strong hand on his shoulder not giving the slightest indication of departing, the blood elf took several deep breaths in an effort to calm his nerves. Similar to himself, the warrior's long hair appeared to be slightly damp and his loose linen shirt seemed to cling to his brawly and broad chest. Several beats of silence passing over the two elves, the paladin moving his distrustful and edgy gaze over the warrior, he shifted his body in discomfort. "I'm Deimos."

Grinning at the nearly forceful and suspicious response, Elidin cocked his head to the side in quick contemplation. Though he wasn't considered skilled or experienced with Sin'dorei in any form, he was cognitive enough to form speculations. While the paladin may have claimed to properly understand Common, his thick Thalassian accent gave away his reluctance and sincere inexperience with the language. "You sustained quite a few injuries, Deimos. How does your head feel?"

While he could count his experience with such close and personal proximities with Alliance on his two hands, Deimos felt his safeguarding defenses heighten ever so slightly. Turning his head somewhat, he regarded the opposite elf with a skeptical gaze. "I'm fine."

The night elf felt a small chuckle escape his lips, though in reality, he didn't expect anything less from a blood elf. The fire's red and orange flames dancing on the blood elf's fair face, contrasting quite harshly with his emerald eyes, Elidin narrowed his soft gaze. "Pain is weakness leaving the body. It's the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding."

Blinking back several times at the cryptic words, the sound of the paladin's struggled and labored breathing enveloped the area. The palms of his hands beginning to feel the strain of his weight placed on them, small jagged pebbles imbedding in his skin, he felt his gaze harden on the night elf. "Why do you care? You're just going to kill me!"

Shifting his body to rest on his knees, the warrior lifted an amused brow. "Why are you not dead yet then, young one?"

"I have a name," the blood elf snapped, his heated and firm glare not lessening in the slightest. "Is asking for an honorable death to much to ask for, you Alliance piece of-"

"For being at my mercy, you're quite testy. Not to mention ungrateful to me for saving your life."

"Grateful?" Deimos asked incredulously, his voice rising slightly with his mounting temper. "You're going to run one of those blades through me at any moment." Pausing for a second to collect his thoughts, the paladin sent an angry and spiteful stare at the taller elf. "So, yeah, I guess thanks for sparing my life long enough to kill me conscious but injured."

Emitting a hearty laugh, the loud and boisterous noise dancing off the rocks, the night elf shook his head in amusement at the other elf. Though he didn't have many personal encounters with Sin'dorei, the sheer arrogance and cocky attitudes never failed to amaze him. Quickly gripping the blood elf's jaw between his thumb and forefinger, his other hand gripping the tense shoulder, he forcefully turned the paladin's head. "There are two things a person should never be angry at, what they can help, and what they cannot."

The sudden action taking him by surprise, Deimos gave a small struggle in response to the rough grasp on his jaw as the hand on his shoulder lifted. About to bring a hand to thwart off the night elf, he felt his body and blood nearly freeze as several calloused digits grazed the throbbing wound on the back of his head. Tensing as he felt the short hair around the area be pushed to the side, he swallowed the growing lump in his throat. To accept the helping hand of another, especially his fatal enemy, seemed erroneous and immoral; the mere touch of the night elf emitting chills down his back. Placing himself in such a vulnerable and susceptible position caused alarms to sound in his head.

Slamming his eyes shut as the fingers applied pressure on the wound, Deimos felt his concrete grasp on consciousness be shattered, his world being plunged into a state of vertigo. Hardly taking note to his muscles buckling under his weight, he was mutely aware of a strong arm supporting his body. A powerful throbbing of pain resonating from the wound seemed to vibrate throughout his body. Swallowing several times in hopes of willing his rolling stomach to calm itself, he allowed a few beats to pass by as he felt his mind and thoughts gain their footing once again.

Reluctantly opening his eyes to find himself lying on his side, a warm hand on his shoulder offering some sense of support, Deimos sent a harsh glare at the solemn face staring down at him. "What were you saying about not trying to kill me?"

Slowly and carefully aiding the blood elf back into his sitting position while promptly ignoring the slaps to his hands to desist in helping, Elidin shook his head in thought. "That wound on your head will have to be tended to immediately."

"Light!" Deimos exclaimed as he rotated his body so as to lay his back against the cave wall. "Stop caring! You were hellbent on slicing my neck not too long ago. And now you're all of a sudden concerned for my safety?"

The warrior lifted a brow. "Would you rather I just kill you?"

The Sin'dorei blinked. "Well, that's what you're going to do anyways. So stop toying with me, I guess."

Laughing at the bemused-laced voice, Elidin slowly pushed himself to his feet and began his trek back to his spot beside the fire. The clearing in the cave wasn't of substantial size but offered the two elves enough space for the warming fire and some comfort room. Seating himself cross legged next to his impressive swords and daunting plate armor, the night elf sent a curious look over at the paladin, who was more than content at keeping his heated glare on him. "How old are you, Deimos?"

The question striking a sense of shock in the blood elf, his form physically and visibly tensed. Crossing his arms tightly over his chest, the paladin narrowed his eyes on the warrior's inquisitive gaze. "Why?"

He was smart to not expect a straight forward answer from the Sin'dorei. "The silence often of pure innocence persuades when speaking fails."

"Do you always speak in annoying riddles?" Deimos countered, releasing an exasperated and aggravated sigh. If he did survive the encounter, he'd be quick to tell those back at Silvermoon of the bizarreness to his night elf counterpart. Feeling the still expectant and inquiring gaze resting on him, the heavy stare seeming to become a burden on him, he heaved a trounced sigh. If his death was to be an ultimate ending to the uncanny and peculiar encounter, such details wouldn't be prudent in the matter. "I'm seventeen."

His broad grin falling from his face nearly immediately, Elidin couldn't suppress the pang of astonishment mixed with grief at the response. His incredulous and astounded stare fixated on the paladin glaring back at him, he found himself at a loss for words. While he deduced the blood elf was of a tender and young age in the midst of their encounter, the sheer magnitude of the situation hadn't quite dawned on him. For a race that once prided themselves with their immortality, to produce a child was more difficult and trying from other races. As such, the harmony of children and childhood was held sacred and blessed. "That is…quite young for Sin'dorei. You must see over eighty winters before you're an adult."

The overbearing concerned eyes boring a hole in him, Deimos squirmed under the gaze. The night elf, his cryptic and enigmatic style of speech already putting him in a sense of unease, left him dumbfounded yet more defensive. "Yeah well, I've experienced more trials than some adult elves back in Silvermoon."

The bitterness in the paladin's voice not going unchecked, Elidin shook his head sadly. "You fight quite admirably for one so young. Tell me, young one, how many seasons have you been a soldier?"

Releasing an incredulous snort, the young blood elf shook his head angrily while he sent his gaze to the rocky ground. "Admirably? I didn't stand a chance against you."

"Well," the night elf began, smiling at the youth's forceful display of humility, "I can assure you my experience is far beyond your understanding. Yet, your swordsmanship was quite impressive. How long have you worn the Horde insignia?"

Moving his gaze from the floor to the warrior's inquisitive face, Deimos allowed several beats to pass by as he considered his adversary. His face free of any indication of trickery or treason, the blood elf couldn't ignore his residual hesitation to answer. While he couldn't deny that he'd likely have drowned without the Kal'dorei's help, he wasn't quite prepared to dismiss the action as purely altruistic. Naturally defensive against the Alliance soldier, his mind continuously pondered the mysterious intentions for the warrior's questions. "What are you going to do with me?"

Brows up in surprise at the posed question, Elidin wasn't quite prepared to allow his to slip away so easily. "Answer my question first, then I'll answer yours."

Scowling over the blazing and crackling fire, the paladin glared angrily at the smugness in the night elf's voice. While he had the option to remain silent and never receive an answer to his inquisition, the bursting uneasiness of the unknown future overwhelmed his eager mind. To submit to the night elf's demands sounded less than appealing, though he was offered few alternatives. His wounds still pulsing in angry pain with no means to properly heal, his energy obsolete, he had little hope for escaping the seasoned warrior successfully.

Wetting his lips while slowly uncrossing his arms, Deimos felt a sudden overwhelming discomfort of discussing his personal life. "I-I've been training since I can remember. But I took my oath eight years ago."

"Eight years ago?" The night elf whispered back, his spirit dampening ever so much at the words. "You were but nine years old."

The concerned and troubled gaze increasing his discomfort, the young elf set his jaw angrily. "We had a deal."

Nodding at the tightly spoken words, Elidin easily detected and identified the blossoming of the paladin's distress, which only deepened his longing to further question the boy. Well experienced in the art of war, his high rank in the Alliance displaying as much, he continued to hold family values sincere and blessed. To take a life was, in his eyes, simple and straightforward. But to create and nurture life was truly amazing and miraculous. "I'm bringing you back to Darnassus with me."

"Darnassus?" the blood elf echoed, not bothering to hide his disgust at the city as his face contorted into a snarl. In truth, he didn't expect to walk out of the cave alive. The sharpened and threatening blades resting so close to the night elf, he was fully prepared for one to be run through him. "I'm your prisoner?"

A small smile going across his face, the warrior tilted his head to the side. "We can only be absolutely certain about that which we don't understand."

"Great!" The boy exclaimed as he threw his hands up in the air, angrily ripping his gaze away from the taller elf's stare. "More ridiculous riddles." Pausing to take several deep, calming breaths, the young elf shook his head in utter aggravation. His initial mission was effortless and undemanding, for such a complication to arise seemed both annoying and slightly fearful. Naturally assuming his demise would be on the battlefield in a fitting death for a soldier, being taken behind enemy lines caused a chill to run down his spine. "When are we leaving then?"

The edges of his mouth threatening to form a smirk at the pungent tone from the boy, Elidin gently picked up a long brown stick resting before him, and turned his attention to poking the burning embers. Though the fire offered the two elves an array of dancing flames, the necessity to maintain the warming fire was dire in their current predicament. While Terokkar Forest was blanketed in a continuous warming humidity, the depths of the cave weren't as kind. "Do you have a family, Deimos?"

The question taking him by surprise, the blood elf momentarily felt his angry façade drop for a beat. For whatever unholy reason, the night elf was taking an uncanny interest in his personal life. Yet it the answers seemed to be the needed token for his own answers. The fierce yet short lived battle between them still fresh in his mind, observing the more personable front of the warrior didn't come across as quite natural. Cocking his head to the side while he considered the night elf with a quizzical gaze, attempting to speculate and size up his adversary, it seemed his inquiries were left unanswered; the warrior was a tightly wrapped enigma.

Running his hand through his tangled short hair, Deimos shrugged softly; the action causing his ravished ribs to cry back out in protest. "The only family I know of is my father and cousin."

"The Arakkoa are performing some sort of ritual outside. We must wait for them to leave before we can head back to Shattrath for the portal to Darnassus." Pausing to allow the information to settle and preparing for an angry rebuttal from the blood elf, the warrior hesitantly eyed him through the crackling flames. A distant gleam in his eyes, the boy's stare was unfocused and directed at the rock ground before him. "Your father - he gave you permission to join the ranks of the Horde at such a young age?"

Visibly grimacing, Deimos felt his posture tense at the mention of the older elf. His mind reflecting on his father, he could only fathom the retribution and punishment that would be waiting for him if the elf caught word of his capture by the warrior. His blood seeming to eerily freeze in his veins at the thought, he hesitantly contemplated the better of two evils: escaping and facing the wrath of his father, or becoming a prisoner of the Alliance.

"My father," the young elf began in a deathly calm voice, his steel and firm gaze directed at the fire, "raised me as a soldier. He wouldn't have it any other way."

"We are not the playthings of Elune. We are not the victims of our heredity. We are not the puppets of our parents. We do have control and we always have choices."

"I was never given a choice."

The whispered words dripping with resentment echoed off the rock walls, and Elidin was unable to tear his silvery eyes off the blood elf across from him. The response coming out in an automatic and involuntary fashion, the boy's distanced and detachment look in his eyes caught the warrior's attention the most profoundly. His gaze seemingly clouded over in a deepened and sincere thought, the warrior allowed a small, sad smile to move across his face. "There are two primary choices in life: to accept conditions as they exist, or accept the responsibility for changing them."

The mysterious and riddled words reaching his pointed ears, the paladin lifted his eyes in silent pondering to meet the night elf's patient gaze. Brows drawn together, he narrowed his own stare on the warrior, though he couldn't seem to subdue the swelling curiosity in his chest. "You know nothing of me, my life, or my family."

"How am I to know if you will not tell me?"

"Tell you what?" Deimos countered, a crisp edge slinking into his voice. "I was born and raised by a high ranking military officer. There was no room for my choice or opinion on matters."

Shifting his weight on the hard ground as he pushed his hair behind his ears, Elidin lifted a curious brow. "Your father is a paladin as well then?"

Biting his lip in quick contemplation, the blood elf shook his head slowly. "No, he's not."

While the boy may have been young and significantly inexperienced in comparison to the night elf, he was remarkably skilled at delicately choosing information to disclose; or not to disclose. "It was your choice to become a wielder of the Light?"

"I suppose so, yes."

"If you had the opportunity to change anything in your life, where would you see yourself?"

Taking a deep breath of air, the smell of the burning embers filling his senses, Deimos shifted his weight. While he was never asked the question verbally by a different person, he'd pondered the answer for years. Would he have chosen such a rigorous military upbringing? Perhaps he would have chosen to have a maternal figure growing up. Denied the chance of attending the academy with his fellow age mates, he lacked any substantial and lasting friendships with elves his own age. Maybe he would have chosen a normal, average childhood. Considering the possibility of never seeing the battlefield or the proper grip on a hilt felt wrong and mistaken; he was born for the lifestyle. "I-I don't know. I guess I would change my dad. Make him actually like me. Maybe even love me."

Not missing the solemn and saddening tone that swept over the younger elf's voice and features, Elidin offered him a reassuring nod. "But you wouldn't change being in the military?"

"I like being a soldier," the blood elf replied, placing an uneasy hand on his chest at the sharp pains he was beginning to feel from the labored breathing. "What about you? You have a family?"

The calm grin evolving into a boisterous and jubilant smile, the night elf gave an uneasy laugh at the change of direction. While he longed to further the discussion on the paladin's upbringing and lifestyle, he dubbed it only fair to allow similar questioning to commence to him. No longer under the angry and resenting stare from the boy, instead replaced with a curious and dubious one, the warrior was at least content with knowing the blood elf calmed down significantly. "I had a wife but she passed on years ago with our unborn child. So no, I do not have a family."

It was strange. Having spent countless days on a raging battlefield, Deimos wasn't new to the effects of death. He didn't fear or deny it; it was simply the last act a solder did in his lifetime. Perhaps it was also his gifted talent at accessing and calling on the power of the holy Light to guide and infuse him with power that caused him to be so optimistic. While dire and grave injuries could likely result in a sure fatality, he had the chance to prevent such deaths with the grace of the Light. Yet, he couldn't deny or ignore the distinguishable pang of sadness at hearing the night elf's story. Maybe, he pondered, he could blame the peculiar feelings of mourning to his enemy with how familiar the account was to his own life. His birth marking his mother's demise, it could have easily resulted in both their deaths. "I-I'm sorry for your loss, Elidin."

A strong onslaught of harsh memories surfacing to his mind, the night elf offered the boy a small smile. "I thank you for your kind thoughts, but I pray they're lost on me. I've already mourned their passing and have begun my life again." Pausing to consider the quick flash of confusion that passed over the Sin'dorei's features, he was quick to continue, a light spring entering his voice. "I'm also a Lieutenant-General of the Alliance."

Mouth hanging a gape, Deimos slowly closed his eyes as he mentally berated himself and gently leaned his head against the cool rocks behind him. "A Lieutenant-General? Well that's just fantastic. I might as well as ran into King Varian himself." Opening his eyes to send a pointed look at the amused night elf, he slowly shook his head. "I really wasn't difficult to fight against, was I?"

Laughing loudly at the trademark bitterness in the paladin's tone, Elidin slowly turned to his side to inspect his glistening gear and pristinely sharpened swords. "He who exercises no forethought but makes light of his opponents is sure to be captured by them."

"Yeah?" Deimos countered as he watched the warrior delicately pick up one of the swords to inspect the flawless finish. Though he was no longer plagued with stringent feelings of fear and apprehension to the night elf, the wielding of his weapons did infuse a sense of attention. "Well, I sure as hell didn't make light of you and I'm your prisoner, so I don't think your riddle works very well."

Grinning at the words, the night elf shook his head. "You were a worthy rival, Deimos. When I initially saw you, I thought for sure you'd have been slain sooner. So, I commend your skills."

"When you saw me?"

The snappish and irritated voice drawing his attention, Elidin fastened his gaze on the paladin while he slowly stood, the twin swords and sheathe in hand. Bringing the thick leather belt around his waist and expertly working the buckle, he sent a half grin to the silently brooding boy. "I was watching you for a few minutes. Remember, the element of surprise is a soldier's best weapon." His grin turning into a smile at the fierce look he received in response, he delicately and skillfully adorned the swords on his belt, the azure enchanted blades hanging on either side of him. "Are you able to stand with your injuries?"

Watching the warrior bend down to grasp several of his pieces of gear and move his fingers with impressive speed to fasten them to his frame, Deimos felt a silent longing. His own structure lacking his armor, save for his bracers, he couldn't quite quell the annoyance of the hindrance of having to outfit himself with a new set. Naturally he assumed he wouldn't be given the luxury of obtaining his gear left beside the pond; nor would it matter, however. Once he stepped foot in Darnassus, he fully expected to be stripped of his possessions and dignity. Forcing a deep swallow at the thought, he knew he'd have to determine a fitting escape plan before that time. If he could somehow manage to escape the sharp night elf between the cave and Shattrath, he'd likely manage to get back to a Horde encampment for sanctuary. That is, if his sustained injuries would allow him.

"Um," the young elf began, running a hesitant hand on the back of his head while the other reluctantly probed his aching ribs. Setting his jaw at the turbulent sensation that overwhelmed his being from inspecting the head wound, he opted to leave it be. Taking a deep breath, he slowly and gingerly pushed himself to his feet, his face falling into a grimace at his pleading ribs to desist.

Standing on shaky feet, Deimos felt his world tilt on an axis and his vision blur. A silent buzz filling his hearing, he was mutely aware of his legs buckling beneath him, his arms instinctively flying up in an effort to right himself. One of his hands slapping against the cool and moist rocks to catch himself, he sincerely doubted the hasty action would prevent his fall.

A steel arm supporting his upper body, the paladin felt and saw his swimming vision finally right itself. Miraculously, he was still standing, though much of his weight was supported by both the wall and a large and imposing figure before him. Blinking several times as his sense slowly returned to him, the young elf's heard a familiar buzz of noise reach his pointed ears.

Watching a sense of focus and comprehension return to the boy, Elidin moved his eyes over him carefully. Hesitant to remove his clutch on him just yet, feeling much of his light elven weight resting on him, he thanked Elune he was quick enough to reach the paladin before he collapsed. His maladies already quite serious, the fall would have indisputably exasperated them. "Deimos, how do you feel?"

Swallowing several times, his stomach threatening to spill its contents on the rocks, the Sin'dorei sent a painful glance at the taller elf. "My head is pounding and I can barely breathe."

Digesting the strained words, the night elf offered him a small nod. In truth, he didn't expect anything less and was quite impressed the boy had managed to regain and sustain consciousness so readily and quickly. "You've got a serious concussion that will need tending soon. We'll have to move quickly."

Setting his billowing pride to the side, Deimos gratefully accepted the warrior's help in standing upright. His head throbbing mercilessly, he was only thankful that the blinding pain offered him a small chance to forget the dull ache in his chest. Having a generous portion of serious and sometimes fatal injuries in the past, he was no stranger to the sensation of pain. Feeling somewhat confident in his ability to maintain his weight and stand on his own, he gently pulled away from the night elf.

Darting his eyes over the young elf's face as if to assure himself he wouldn't topple over, Elidin briskly pivoted on his heels to finish plucking up the remaining plate gear resting beside the fire. He didn't bother fitting the leg guards on his frame, rather opting to tuck them under an arm. Giving a tilt of his head towards the sole passage from the cave, he sent a reassuring glance at the boy. "The way out isn't far. My mount is close by as well. Can you make the journey on your own?"

Slowly closing his eyes as a bang of nausea rolled over him, his labored breathing loud and noticeable, the paladin silently wondered the answer himself. The mere prospect of walking or moving a limb sounded less than appealing. His body and mind longed for sleep and reprise, and walking down a mysterious tunnel with his enemy ranked far down. Forcing himself to stand straight and upright, he sent the inquiring elf a confident stare. "Yeah, I should be fine." Pausing, he watched the warrior take his word and begin to turn down the tunnel as he forced his own limbs to follow shortly behind. Reaching the mouth of the tunnel, the light from the other end illuminating their way, he took a deep and relaxing breath. "What about the Arakkoa? I'm in no shape to fight if they're not gone."

Sending a sideways glance to the smaller elf, not missing the grimace of pain that danced on his features, Elidin offered him a tight grin. "They're not there."

Running his hand on the wall for a sense of support at the sincere lack of substantial lighting, the small jagged edges leaving scrapes in his skin, Deimos swallowed thickly. "How do you know?"

"They were never there."

Quickly righting himself as he nearly tripped forward, Deimos sent the elf slightly ahead of him a confused look. "What? I thought you said-"

"I know what I said," the warrior interrupted in a calm voice, his deep soothing voice echoing off the tunnel's arched ceiling. Sending a quick glance to the puzzled Sin'dorei, he couldn't resist the small chuckle that escaped his lips. Such brash yet dramatic emotions seemed to be common place in the boy, though the night elf couldn't quite determine if the cause was his adolescence or race. "Have you ever been to Darnassus?"

"Darnassus?" Deimos echoed confusedly. Hadn't they just been discussing the Arakkoa? Blinking several times in blind hope of willing his mind to comprehend and finally understand the enigmatic elf, it seemed the pulsing wound on his head thought otherwise. "Um…yeah, a few times on campaigns. Why? And what about the Arakkoa?"

Turning his eyes forward as the dim glowing light from Terokkar Forest began to brighten in intensity, Elidin mechanically increased his pace to a brisk walk. Though the boy fought against his body to defile him and display his pains and injuries, the warrior saw through the weak façade. Had the paladin reserved some sort of energy, the grievous wounds wouldn't have posed such a threat. The debilitating and weakening injuries would've been miraculously healed with a few whispered words. The fall down the cascading and tall waterfall wouldn't have proven to have such dire consequences if the rough rocks didn't await them at the bottom. A chill moving down his spine, the warrior didn't dare wonder what would have happened had he also suffered similar wounds.

Breathing a sigh of relief as the mouth and entrance to the cave came into his sight, Elidin took a deep and reflective breath. The humid and stagnant forest air invading his senses, he openly welcomed the scents. "Your reception in Darnassus may prove to be initially trying. We'll have to seek a healer immediately though."

"A healer?" Deimos asked incredulously, also feeling a small sense of respite at reaching the opening of the cave. Though in reality, he knew in the back of his mind that he ought to be feeling the opposite. No longer grasping the reins on his freedom, he was a captive of the Alliance and essentially walking himself behind enemy lines. Yet on the same accord, he couldn't bring himself to dwell and ponder on the situation. "The Alliance would allow a prisoner to see a healer?"

Elidin released a hearty laugh as they approached the entrance of the cave. "You're not a prisoner, young one."

Hastily squinting as the dim lighting shot down on his fair face, the paladin took a hesitant look around himself. Sure enough, he was standing on what looked to be a ledge tucked against the mountain range. Fully expecting to see the bustling capital of the Arakkoa, with perhaps a small group performing some sort of ritual, he was instead greeted with the bursting and thriving foliage of the forest. Situated slightly above the tree line, he swallowed roughly at the desolate and silent atmosphere; yet also a sense of intimidation. The lack of Skettis or any distinguishable marking on the land, he was left questioning his location in the muggy forest.

A low growl drawing his attention, Deimos whipped his head directly below him. Sitting back on its haunches, its large chest cavity expanding with each heavy and audible breath, the boy gaped at the billows of smoke that escaped the drake's snout. Though he had the luxury of seeing the majestic and impressive beasts in the past, to actually observe the animal upfront and in such close quarters made his skin tingle with excitement. While he longed to one day be a proud rider of a drake of his own, he didn't know of anyone who had the honor.

"Her name's Kalina," Elidin quietly said, a broad grin gracing his features at the stunned expression that danced on the paladin's face.

"She's beautiful," Deimos replied in a voice barely above a whisper. Their voices, though relatively quiet, must have reached the acute drake. As the stately beast scratched its sharpened talons against the dirt ground, the young elf strained himself to turn his attention back to the night elf. However much he was tempted to ask a barrage of questions regarding the drake, he forced himself to remain mindful of his dire situation. "I'm not a prisoner?"

Gesturing to the winding path that led to the grove and impatient drake, the warrior shook his head. "No, you're a refugee."

Slightly behind the warrior as he followed him down the rocky path, sure to be careful of his steps, Deimos drew his brows together in confusion. Though he lacked the formal and structured education of the Sin'dorei, his homeschooling from his father had discussed the logistics of refugees. Pertaining to the craft of war, the word carried a sort of trigger response; and not one that was quite positive. Under strict orders not to bring harm to refugees, it negated much of his fierce military training. "I'm a refugee? But I'm not seeking sanctuary. Light, you're forcing me to go to Darnassus."

"No, I'm not."

The two reaching the grassy grove of the dense forest, Elidin paused in his steps beside the shifting drake. Turning to the boy, taking in his slight lack of attention due to the close proximity of the mount, he sent him a reassuring grin. "I'm not forcing you anywhere, Deimos. I cannot take prisoner for which is already captive."

The voice of her rider increasing her impatience, the drake shook her head annoyingly from side to side. Tearing his eyes off the large and imposing body beside him, the paladin lifted a brow. "Again, I have no clue what you're talking about. I'm not a prisoner or a -"

"Deimos," Elidin began, slowly yet gracefully moving to the side of the drake with purpose. "You're an elfling masquerading as a soldier. I don't mean to degrade your expertise, as you are a formidable rival, but you are only a child. A child who's been thrown into a military lifestyle."

"I-I'm not an elfling."

"You said it yourself," the warrior continued, promptly disregarding the weak and feeble voice as he gently opened a leather bag hanging from the side of the drake. "You were denied choices regarding your life. But I'm giving you a choice right now. An opportunity."

His arms hanging flaccidly at his sides, the Sin'dorei opened and closed his mouth in a weak effort to force a reply. His head wound still throbbing, it seemed the added information and turn of events only increased the pulsing aches. "An opportunity for what?"

His hand wrapping around an oval and smooth stone, the etched symbol on the front rubbing against his skin, the warrior pulled the familiar object from the bag. "To live your life properly. The harsh environment of a battlefield isn't where an elfling belongs. You should be spending your days with friends or in school. You should be enjoying your childhood. And I can offer you that chance."

Suddenly feeling immensely vulnerable and emotionally naked, Deimos broke the firm and unyielding eye contact with the warrior. Sending his gaze to the ground, taking a great interest in the swaying blades of grass, he blinked several times. It was true that he often wondered how a civilian life would have differed from his strict upbringing, but how could he long for something he never felt? While he saw the loving and nurturing relationships the other elves his age harbored with their parents, he never experienced such security with his own father. Assuming a more military role under his father's dictorial and demanding gaze, he couldn't deny his wish to escape the harsh clutch of his parent.

Wetting his lips, the boy shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "How? I'm an active soldier of the Horde. If you only knew what I've done-"

"Do you understand the rules that govern the security of a refugee?"

"I-I think so. I have to claim that I fear returning to my home, and you take pity on me."

Running his fingers on the smooth stone in his fist, Elidin shrugged at the boy's crude explanation. "Somewhat. I'd have quite a bit of explaining to do but I can arrange for you to stay with me in Darnassus. You'll have the chance to have a real childhood, Deimos."

Taking several deep breaths, his aching chest pleading against the action, the paladin felt his mind and emotions torn. To escape the ruthless and harsh treatment from his father sounded more than appealing. Years of debasing and painful punishments from the older elf sending shivers down his spine, he thought himself stupid to hesitate. It was precisely what he longed for; to be saved. But was he essentially willing to be saved?

Lifting his emerald eyes from the grass to the warrior patiently and silently watching him, the young elf rested his gaze on the enchanted swords hanging on his belt. The sharpened blades hidden behind the concealing sheathes, he didn't have to wonder their perfection and flawless edges. He'd seen them first hand only hours before, the delicate edges swinging threateningly close to his exposed neck. He was infused with the Light, however, and was able to temporarily thwart off the attacks.

Emitting a long and thoughtful sigh, Deimos rested his resolved gaze on the night elf. "And if I refuse?"

Smiling sadly at the boy's firm yet still bemused stare, the warrior didn't miss the slight distrustful gleam in his eye. "The decision to be a soldier wasn't given to you. I won't rob you of the chance to make this choice too. Once you make a decision, the universe conspires to make it happen."

Sending his gaze to the drake, it's gold eyes watching him carefully and delicately, Deimos strangely didn't feel his emotions torn any longer. The answer, it seemed, was as clear as day. "I've never been given the chance to make my own choices, so thank you." Pausing to turn his eyes back to the warrior, he offered him a tight grin. "And I know I'm insane for saying this, and I really have no idea why I am, but my choice is to return to Silvermoon."

"The heart has reasons that reason does not understand," Elidin replied in a soothing and calm voice, his trademark grin not faltering in the slightest. Opening his closed fist, he spared a quick glance at the off white stone in his palm before offering it to blood elf in an outstretched hand. "Here. Take this." The boy hesitantly accepted the stone, his dubious and skeptical stare fastened on the object. "It's a hearth stone set for Darnassus. I cannot and will not force you to make the decision to come to Darnassus. But the choice will always remain open for you. When you feel yourself ready, take the hearth and ask for me."

Swallowing roughly as his throat seemed to constrict, Deimos shook his head sadly. "Why are you so nice to me? I mean, I would have killed you during our fight if I could have."

"Meeting you was fate, saving your life was a choice, but befriending you I had no control over."

A cool afternoon breeze filled the bedroom, threatening to spread the neatly stacked papers about. Though the spring was indeed vastly approaching an evolution to summer, it wasn't quite prepared to relinquish some of the cooler elements. Silvermoon City situated at the northern tip of the continent, the blood elf city wasn't saved from the usual chilly winds and weather that would accent each season. It was only through steadfast and strong enchants that the bedroom didn't feel the full force of the powerful winds.

Leaning his hip against an elaborate and intricately carved wooden desk, a vast array of reports and parchment littering its surface, Deimos tilted his head to the side. Rotating the smooth hearth stone between his two hands, he ran a finger along the faded blue symbol carved on its surface. The stone that would bring him to the heart of the night elf capital given to him four year prior, he was surprised it remained in such a fine state.

After the night elf gave him a strong potion to temporarily remedy his injuries, the paladin was quick to seek out shelter and assistance in Shattrath. Though he missed his pick up and rendezvous point with his superiors in Nagrand, he'd received the proper medical care to bring him to full health. Sure enough, a cruel and callous reprimand awaited his arrival when he returned home. He easily recalled wincing in pain at his arm bended at an awkward angle as he placed the hearth stone far back in a desk drawer.

"Deimos! You've got two minutes!"

His father's yelling voice from the lower level reaching his pointed ears, the young elf ran a slender finger along the stone's curved edges. Though his relationship with his father was unstable at best, he never activated the hearth stone however much he was tempted. Despite the rigorous training schedules, demanding tasks, and agonizing punishments, he didn't see the familiar jade glow from the stone. And that was his choice.

Fini