Eye of the Beholder

Twenty-Two.

Much to Eliana's dismay, Lord Ravencrest's horn had indeed borne ill news. The entirety of the Sisterhood of Elune was thrown into the throngs of a battle that lasted days, which was more than any of them could handle at this point in the war. More and more demons poured from the crevices of the mountainside, swarming across the plains until the once-verdant blades were crushed and dead. They spewed from the dark, shadowy corners of the forest, like the streams that sprouted from Mount Hyjal with no end in sight. Many priestesses perished, as did the soldiers, but they had no other choice than to fight on if they wished to survive.

On the first day, unexpected allies joined the battle. Lost in the motions of dealing death, slicing and dicing in a way that had become nearly second nature to her, Eliana didn't notice the new arrivals until multiple shadows had slithered across the battlefield. The rhythmic sound of giant, flapping wings eclipsed the sounds of battle, and when she looked up, she'd nearly fallen over in shock.

Dragons had stretched across the sky, blocking out the sun entirely. Red, green, blue, and black; creatures thought to be entirely mythical had come to their aid. The joy and relief was short-lived, however. Not long after their arrival, the largest of the black flight had unleashed a devastating attack upon the demons, and then been attacked by one of the red flight.

Infighting amongst the dragons ensued, and the black and red dragon, entangled in one another, crashed down onto the battlefield. Most of the Night Elves had tried to scramble out of the way, but there had been a few who could not make it in time. Shortly after, the ground had trembled, swayed, and molten lava had burst through the earth, raining down on them from above.

The lava pushed back their forces from the plains, even closer to Zin-Azshari than before. Eliana had long since lost track of her loved ones. Though she knew that Illidan, Cytheas, and Tyrande were out there in the battle somewhere, she had no idea whether they were alive or not. That is, until Tyrande rode out of the horde and beelined straight for her with a dazed, frantic look on her face.

While astride her saber, Tyrande swung down and took out the demon that Eliana had been warring with. "Eliana, I must ride out to the base of Mount Hyjal!"

"What? Why? What's going on?" Eliana sidled up to Tyrande's mount, laying a hand on the pommel of the saddle.

"It's—I'm not sure that I could explain it, even if I tried, but I've heard from Malfurion."

"Malfurion?" Eliana exclaimed. "Is he back?"

"Yes, he and Lord Krasus have returned to us. He implored that I ride to meet him as quickly as possible," Tyrande explained as her mount shifted its weight from paw to paw, restless to be moving again.

"Then that is what you must do." Eliana stepped back, nodding to give Tyrande the permission she'd come to seek. As Tyrande mounted up, Eliana added, "Take a few of our sisters with you for protection, and return to us as soon as you can."

"Thank you, Eli," Tyrande breathed, lifting her reins.

"Be safe, sister."

With a nod of her own, Tyrande flicked her reins and she and her saber were off.

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Two days later

Eliana stared out at the ruined plains below the Night Elven encampment, hidden by a small copse of trees. Even sheltered as she was, rain still pelted her hair, melding it to her head like a second skin. Despite the fact that a few strands hung down in front of her face like wiry threads, she couldn't summon the energy to move them aside. It seemed like she had little energy for anything anymore.