Eye of the Beholder

Seventeen.

A collective sense of valor and hope drove the Night Elven forces towards Zin-Azshari. The entire force rode hard and they made good time, though the capital was some ways ahead still. It wasn't until two hours into the daylight that Lord Ravencrest called for them to halt and set up camp.

Eliana still felt a lingering exhaustion that she suspected wouldn't dissipate until after this was all over. A full day's rest sounded magnificent, and relief washed over her when she heard Lord Ravencrest instructing that guards be posted along the perimeter of the camp. It was never a guarantee that they wouldn't be ambushed, but she felt considerably safer nestled within their vast ranks.

The Priestesses of Elune were designated a section of the camp to themselves. Rather than setting up individual tents like most of the soldiers did, to save room and time, the priestesses would all be staying in one large tent together with the exception of the High Priestess herself.

Once their tent was erected, many of the priestesses retired for the daylight hours, getting as much rest as possible while they could. Sleep evaded Eliana, however, and she tossed and turned for much of the day. True, deep sleep never quite settled in, and she floated through the limbo of restlessness—not quite conscious but not truly asleep, either.

Eventually, when the sun began to dip below the mountains, she packed up her sleeping bag and quietly exited the tent. By Elune's good grace, the area they'd set up camp had remained unaffected by the scourge of the demons. The forest around her was tranquil, alive, and she felt a calming sort of comfort. Listlessly, she wandered to the edge of the encampment and sat down on a supply crate to watch the setting sun.

Though she preferred the pale, cool light of the moon, she had to admit that the fiery blaze of the sun was beautiful in its own way. Its golden rays filtered through the crags of the mountains and the towering pine trees, and covered the camp in a muted cloak of light. Unlike the moon, these rays were warm, and enveloped her in their balmy embrace.

Her eyes slid shut, at ease in nature's embrace, but when she heard the rustle of branches being disturbed behind her, they shot back open. In reflex, her hand flew down to the handle of her dagger. As she bolted to her feet and faced the sound, she let out a tense sigh when she saw that it was Malfurion who had come out of the forest.

In a mollifying gesture, he held out his hands when he saw her offensive posture. "I apologize if I startled you, Eliana."

"What are you doing coming out of the forest like that, Mal?" she questioned, straightening and falling back into a more relaxed stance.

"I...work better with less chance of being disturbed."

Confused, Eliana tilted her head to the side. "Doing what exactly?"

"It's hard to explain," Malfurion said, shifting his weight to his other foot. "It's easier for me to connect with nature when I'm in the midst of it, but it's also better if the environment is quiet and devoid of...distractions. Soldiers and the commotion of camp during the night hours is..."

"Quite the distraction," she finished for him. Recognition lit up her eyes then, and she asked, "Were you doing something similar to when you came to the Temple? And you needed the Chamber of the Moon?"

He smiled. "Precisely. I—"

Another loud commotion from the trees interrupted him. The sound of someone—or something—crashing through the branches got progressively louder, until Jarod Shadowsong burst out of the pine bristles, looking harried and a bit angry.

"Master Stormrage, you can't just—" He started to reprimand Malfurion, until he saw Eliana standing beside the druid. "My apologies, Priestess Starhelm, I didn't see you there."