Above the Stars and under the Flames

12. A Fiery Personality

"I don't understand," Thellandria said, furrowing her brows and shaking her head in confusion. "Why did you come? How did you know I was here?" She wrung her hands together nervously. "Who has sent you?" she asked, beginning to fear that they were, in fact, here to arrest her for murdering Frederic Bennet.

Rishe had an arm around her shoulder, guiding her as they walked across the desert; Rishe's brother, Lirandil, followed behind the two women, keeping an eye out for unwelcome attention. "We were just so worried about you, sister," Rishe explained. "We simply had to follow you."

Thellandria narrowed her eyes, a frown forming upon her lips. "You followed me?" she repeated incredulously.

"A necessity," Rishe replied, nodding her head. "We're terribly sorry if we have offended you; we had no intention of doing so." She gestured to a tent that they had reached. "Here, come inside. Relax." She ushered the somewhat reluctant druid into the tent, sitting her down on a stool.

"I.. I'm sorry," Thellandria murmured, hanging her head. "I feel terrible; I haven't even thanked you. Your necklace saved me back there." She reached down and rubbed the pendant softly. "What an odd little trinket it is."

Rishe nodded, then flicked a finger at Lirandil, who dipped his head and secured the tent flap shut, keeping the sunlight out. "Yes.. it is an unusual family heirloom, but it is undeniably useful, as I'm sure you can attest to." She offered a small smile.

Thellandria peered down at the orange amulet, then nodded slowly. "Indeed, I can. If I didn't have this, I would have been dead." She grimaced, remembering why exactly it was that she needed the necklace's aid. "... My powers, they.. they are no longer what they used to be. I'm not sure what happened, but.. it is as if nature is rejecting me somehow." She massaged her forehead. "Perhaps it is the stress, or the arid climate. Nature might have a hard time reaching me here," she reasoned, but deep inside, she knew that neither of those suggestions were the problem. Stress and climate had never drastically altered her abilities before.

Silence filled the room for a moment, until Rishe spoke up. "I heard about what that Paladin did to your mate," she said; Thellandria wondered briefly how the woman had recognized the Paladin as Frederic Bennet, but the curiosity was soon forgotten. "How awful; he deserved what you gave him," Rishe reassured, then fixed Thellandria with an intense stare. "There are so many in the world just like him."

Thellandria blinked, glancing up to meet Rishe's gaze. "Er, yes.. I suppose there are," she offered in response, feeling a bit intimidated.

Rishe leaned in slightly closer. "The world has become corrupt and impure, with heathens tromping around everywhere you turn. Does the world not annoy you?" She looked down at the druid's orange pendant for a moment before looking back up to Thellandria's face again. "Does it not.. enrage you?"

"Ehm.. I'm not.. I mean I don't really.." Thellandria stuttered, unsure about how to respond. Yes, people did tend to frustrate her sometimes, but she would not go so far as to simply say "the world" as a whole was at fault. "I don't think I'd say that, no."

"Ah, but think about it! No matter where you look, greed and evil lurks around you, no?" Rishe prompted. "There are very few on Azeroth who remain worthy and unspoiled. You are one of those few, aren't you?"

Thellandria's expression darkened; she disliked the current topic of conversation. Hopefully, it would change soon. "I suppose I would like to think so, yes, but-"

"Our world is ruined by the terrible people who populate it!" Rishe interrupted. She shot a meaningful glance in Lirandil's direction, then leaned forward even further, dropping her voice to a whisper. Her eyes glinted excitedly, and when her lips parted, that same fanatic enthusiasm oozed out from her words:

"This world must be purged."

Thellandria jumped in shock and stumbled backward, nearly falling off of her stool. Rishe stepped forward, offering her hand out.

"Join us," she crooned, reaching out further as if emphasizing the transaction even more. "Let us burn this world to ashes, from which an even more beautiful forest can be reborn. Let us take action against those who have wronged you."

Thellandria eyed Rishe's hand warily, then pulled back and began to stand up. "I'm sorry, sister, I think it is time for me to leave-"

"No," came Rishe's swift yet stern reply. She gestured to Lirandil, who immediately bound Thellandria's wrists in tight ropes.

"Hey!" the druid protested, squirming violently. "What do you think you're doing?" Her demand was meant to sound fierce, but her voice wavered and cracked. "Sister Clawfern, please, I don't understand what-"

Rishe raised a finger to the druid's lips; the violet-haired woman's hands were almost scalding. "I am not Rishe Clawfern," she hissed, then stepped back, as did Lirandil. Thellandria might have been able to run, but not only was she surrounded; she was also utterly thunderstruck.

Rishe and Lirandil both burst into columns of flame, momentarily blinding Thellandria. When she dared to open her eyes again, she saw the two siblings standing beside each other-but their appearance had her astounded.

Rishe's hair had turned scarlet, while her brother's had become a deep charcoal black. Their skin took on the shade of burnt vermilion, with intricate golden designs tattooed over their bodies. Rishe's fire-like facial tattoos, which had intrigued Thellandria so much when she had first seen them, now glowed a bright orange, practically coming to life on her cheeks. Both siblings wore armor with flames leaping out of every crevice imaginable, licking at the air around them, heating the tent up to an uncomfortable degree.

"I am Rishe Clawflame," Rishe finished, then stepped forward and shoved Thellandria back down onto the stool. "You are such a disappointment; did you know that?" she inquired. "It took Lirandil and I so much to get to this point." Thellandria narrowed her eyes and this, and Rishe laughed.

"What, you think this was all happenstance? Goodness, no. First, we had to knock down your hippogryph; then, we had to get you to accept Nightwind, who kept an eye on you for us and let us track your location; then, we had to give you the necklace-which, let me tell you, was not the easiest to craft-so that it could feed on your anger and drive you to fury..." Rishe heaved a sigh and shook her head. "Honestly, you were a piece of work. And now what? We're going to have to do it the hard way anyhow? Really, you've disappointed us."

Thellandria glared at Rishe, suddenly feeling the desire to gouge the woman's eyes out. She suppressed her anger, however; she knew that her fury was exactly what Rishe wanted. Quick as a flash, she stood up and threw a single kick upward, catching the woman in the ribcage.

"You wretch!" Rishe screamed, but Thellandria was already bursting through the tent door, fleeing.

The desert stretched on forever on all sides; there was no where to run. No where to run, Thellandria repeated to herself. But plenty of places to fly. She knelt down and concentrated hard, trying to commune with nature. She could hear the flaps of the tent being pushed aside, and the sands of Silithus being stomped on. Her heart seemed like it would jump out of her chest, but she felt herself shifting, changing, entering her avian form. Her arms began to form into wings, breaking the rope restraints that had been tied around her wrists; hope flared inside her, and she could sense her freedom standing just there, on the horizon, coming closer and closer.

"Ragnaros will rise again, and with him, so too shall the Druids of the Flame."

Something hard struck her in the back of the head, and her world went black.