The Impulse of Fate

.Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground.

Her frame was long and very slender; A result of soloing, perhaps. Far thinner than the other elves, her pale, lavender-hued skin smudged by the dirt and blood of the hunt. Her hair, a sea-blue, hung mussed to the nape of her neck. She reeked of war and hunger. Emanating strength, she stood there… staring me down. Though she looked fragile and beaten at a distance, up close I could tell I was far wrong. The lean muscles in her arm twitched as she reached for her bow.

‘Of course she would be a hunter…’ I hoped these thoughts would not be my final ones. Her pet’s yellow eyes focused on me. Her weapons glowed with enchantments.

Her pose was steady, strong, and poised. She wouldn’t miss, I wouldn’t even hope for that. I didn’t realize how much weaker I was until this moment. Being a rogue, I thought I could sneak up on her, but she spotted me before I could even stealth. I feel frozen, like a deer in the headlights.

“Speak your last, Sin’Dorei.” Her voice was grainy, as though she gargled rusty nails… yet smooth as honey. She sounded furious. The white, striped saber at her side moved off to prowl towards me.

Her back arched and her elbow pulled back firmly. All I could do now was wait for her swift fingers to release, and her arrow to pierce through my heart. My rushing adrenaline spoke for me… Tears began to pour from my eyes. Never have I revealed such weakness. It is mandatory for us Sin’Dorei, Blood Elves, to never lose our egos. We fight to the end… But there is no fight here, only death. I wept hard for myself, for my lack of love for my people, and for my lack of liking for my country. This is not where I want to die. Please, give me a chance. That’s all I ask. I’m tired of war.

Then I heard it. The near-silent twangs of her arrow leaving her sturdy hold; the loud whoosh of it searing towards me. I cried out in fear, closing my eyes. I didn’t want to know if it hit me or not.

Shoonk! Crack!

I carefully opened one eye to see the arrow sunk all the way into the tree next to me. I was filled with relief, but it vanished as I heard her footsteps padding quickly towards me. She leapt, her long legs extended. Her arm swung and her fist came down hard on my head.

“Be grateful.” Wham!

I didn’t know how to feel about the blackness. Was I dead? Dying? Asleep? I didn’t dare to open my eyes for fear that I might discover that my head wasn’t …attached… anymore. I slowly moved my hand up to my neck.

‘Sunwell be praised…it’s still there.’ My left eye creaked open, the light immediately revealing an unpleasant migraine.

I groaned in discomfort-- then saw her. Sapphire eyes glinted, watching my every move. I froze again in fear of this powerful elf.

“Awake, I see.” Her voice stirred insecurities in me that I thought I had long forgotten. I thought I might wet my pants. I dare not respond to her question, afraid she might find my voice unworthy, or imperfect… “Speak up, Blood Elf.” I gulped, then blurted out what I thought would save me, at any rate.

“K-kal’Dorei… My tongue cannot match your skill. I need not b-bother speaking in your grace.” I squinted, as though to shield myself from her gaze. Then… The sound of chimes dangling on an ancient tree, ringing and dancing about the fluttering leaves… Her laughter.

“What’s your name,” She demanded, her lips curled into a playful smile. Almost scary, like the way a saber bares it’s fangs at prey. I’m not sure why she found me amusing. Perhaps, modesty or humbleness.

“Kurdt Sunstrider.” I tried to say it firmly, to hold the pride I had in my name, my blood.

“I’m Israfael.” She stated, so proud and sure… I didn’t even ask about a last name.

I was caught by surprise as she held out her hand, perfect and slender. Thin black and gold threads were wrapped around her wrists, laced around some of her fingers. I was thankful for her lack of gaudiness... She wore black bandit gloves that ended at her elbow, with leather straps that attached them to her chest piece. Her chest armor she wore extended just below her waistline, a stone gray, and hung over fitted black leather pants. Tall boots, which I happened to notice a ruby-handled dagger sticking out of one… A long, dark-beaded necklace with an ancient symbol dangling from it flickered in the light. Blood…on her arms and exposed skin.

Her lips pressed tightly together as she waited for my hand, patiently holding it out as I stared at her. I grasped her hand, perhaps afraid of what she’d do if I didn’t. She had skin like marble… but softer and warmer, slightly calloused, with some rough patches of dried blood. I looked up at her quickly for approval, touching her hand causing some kind of panic in my mind. Taking in her face, which was hollow and flawless, she nodded.

She jerked me up off the ground, her Elvin height matching my own. Her eyes bore into mine and I felt a rush of heat go into my face. Such weakness in front of an adversary… But I liked it. I had been strong and ignorant all my life until now. Our meeting has broken me of my blind “Serve and protect” mindset. I never wanted things to be that way anyway. To explore, to be strong on my own… that is what I have desired for so long: To become elite of my own accord and serve no-one. But could I do it? Could I truly discard my blood, my race… for a wild Night Elf? Why not… And if she gets aggressive, I’ll just turn her in like I was supposed to in the first place. I gripped her hand, my confidence renewed.

“I want to stay with you!” I bowed before her and placed my forehead against her hand. “Let me travel with you. I wish to be your companion, your accomplice, and your protector should you ever need help.”

She showed no sign of being startled. With her head tilted high above mine, she grinned and nodded securely. “Didn‘t think you had it in you. Just know that I could kill you any day”

“Then, Milady, why have you spared me?” She grimaced at my new formal approach of her. I apologized, “I’m sorry-- Israfael.” I sensed that she preferred the view of equals.

“I spared you because you cried.” She smiled down at me. I blushed in embarrassment. Simply touching her was making me dizzy…heat-crazed, light-headed. She freed me from something small… but so vast in its entirety. Her voice rung in my ears again, “Death is not something to be proud of. That is something I could never do… Stare at the face of death, when fighting will not save you, and not weep for my life. Country and people be damned”

“Was it a test?” Curious, I awaited her answer…

“A test, no…” She pursed her lips together, “A mere impulse of fate.”

I kissed her hand and stood once again, my brain pounding slightly and the blood flow… and the headache. It hurt, but if she hadn’t of knocked me out I would have gone into a state of irreversible panic and anxiety. As I came out of thought, I realized that I was lost in her glittering eyes again. Face to face, Huntress to Rogue… Angel to common Blood Elf.