Addiction

(....what, you thought I was done?)


Six months later...

A sharp gasp followed by a started groan, the green leaves of Stranglethorn trembling, then falling to still silence. Pale fingers delicately picked over the body, deftly pulling anything of value from the pockets and pouches of rough leather that the troll carried. The corpse, still cooling, was left behind to rot in the shadows of the underbrush...

A lone and curious beam of sunlight wound its way through the thick layers of leaves and branches covering the lush forest, a warm breeze following it playfully. Two ears, pale and pointed seemed to stab the sky itself, two glittering green eyes peered over a mask of rough black leather. And as the sun delicately traced the line of her form, tickling beads of sweat from her pale skin, her eyes narrowed, and at once she slipped again into the shadows. If they could speak, the trees would note her passage, but they were silent as always, observing the elf from the height of the stars and saying nothing at all.

It had been six months since she slipped quietly away, six months since she had ridden from what he called his home, six months since she had felt the curious light pouring within her, and despite the insistent call of her body she'd ignored it, choosing instead to throw herself into her work.

Her work. Killing without a care, her bank near overflowing with the rewards of cold blooded murder. Gold, jewels, fine clothing, perfumes and herbs, poisons, weapons. The last time she'd visited the bank, the goblin had stared at the pile of materials she'd given him, patently wondering where he'd put it all. Never being one to question, he'd simply found someplace to stuff the items, although a lingering trace of curiosity flitted about the back of his mind at an elf that would squirrel away so much wealth and never withdraw a copper from it. Was she saving for a rainy day?

In truth, at first she'd been looking for a distraction. After a time, the distraction, the need fell away and all that was left was her, and her blades, glittering with enchantments, and blood, and death, and the shadows. Always the shadows. It wasn't necessary, her being in Stranglethorn, there were many a novice traveling through the area that could've used the fighting experience but she'd interceded and insisted on staying there. Outland and the otherworldly sights therein didn't interest her, once she'd laid eyes upon every sight there was to see she'd left, returning once more to Azeroth and its more familiar charms.

The sky whispered to itself, hushing the forest with a cooling mist of rain. The elf ducked under yet another convenient cropping of shrubs and moss, taking shelter under the roots of a tree that was likely hundreds of years her elder. Hugging her knees to her chest, she waited. Time was meaningless now - it had been ever since she left the cold north...she remembered that night every now and again, remembered the fierce desperation of his eyes, the fire within, remembered it every time she looked in a mirror and saw reflected the ache, the loss of control every time she had to feed...

The trolls of Stranglethorn proved to be weak adversaries, the shaman and voodoo priests offering her just enough magic to survive, the artifacts and scrolls, ancient tablets and spells, charms and hexes proving to be quite enough to make her a modest income. When the call of addiction sang to her, all she had to do was seek one out and take of it. It was enough, for her.

And as she remembered his eyes, she shivered. It was not her intent to torture him, it was not her intent to see him suffer - but his eyes reflected a madness whose closest cousins were the eyes of the Wretched, those that had fallen so far there was no hope of redemption...and she did not, could not be responsible for that.

And so she left, and so she stayed here, here in the quiet and shadows, the rich flora hiding her agreeably in the dirt and the musk of the forest. It was better this way. Better to leave him to his own devices, better to leave him before it was too late for him to save himself...

A loud crack of thunder split the sky in two, the dark of the forest lit stark and frightening for a moment, startling her from her reverie as the sky poured its disapproval, the torrential rain shouting from the heavens in thick sheets. Hugging herself closer, she wished she were closer to Booty Bay. There was no leaving her hiding place, yet - not when the weather was being this violent. And so she sat, staring at the dark outlines of the leaves as the sun hid behind angry clouds, watching them light with the lightning, then fade back to obscurity-

Another crack, another sharp flare of light, and her eyes widened. She shuffled back against the tree, burrowing against it, fervently hoping her eyes were deceiving her-

Another crack, and outlined in sharp relief, a hoof, tramping by her hiding place. It moved on. She relaxed-

Another crack, and the leaves above her pulled free, and she stared, up and up and farther still, an incomprehensible height at two burning eyes, blue fire, staring into her own...