“And what will you have today, sweetie?”
“I’ll have the usual, Kylene, thank you,” my cousin, Shifgrethor, said smiling.
The barmaid nodded and turned to me. “And for you?”
“Just a flask of port, thanks.” I turned to Shifgrethor after Kylene had left. “‘Just the usual,’ eh?” I grinned. “How often do you come here, exactly?”
A small smile appeared on Shifgrethor’s face, but her eyes were laughing with a childlike-mirth despite so much of her life being spent in battle. I envied her.
“Enough for the barmaid to know my usual,” she finally answered.
I laughed. “As if that wasn’t obvious.”
Kylene returned to the table and set a bottle of Pinot Noir in front of my cousin, and the port in front of me. I laughed again and shook my head. “I should have known! You were always the classy drinker.”
Shifgrethor smiled as she took a sip from her drink. “Dearest cousin, I spend most of my days in dirt and sweat and blood from the battlefield. Let me have my moment of refinement.”
Conceding to her reasoning, I nodded my head and smiled back. Suddenly I was appreciative of my current situation: here I was with the last remaining member of my family, having a drink without a care in the world. It was just like old times, our lives before… No. Such things mustn’t be allowed to ruin such a rare state of tranquility.
“The World’s End Tavern… wow, I haven’t been here in ages,” I said, turning my thoughts away from unpleasantries. “But, why here? Surely there are taverns in Silvermoon we could have visited in; there’s no need for you to travel so far.”
Shifgrethor’s smile faded slightly, and she set her drink down. “I’m going to be honest with you, cousin. I had previous business in Shattrath.”
“‘Previous business’? With whom?”
She turned to a table in the corner behind us and beckoned. “With her.”
I looked to the hooded figure sitting alone; I had not noticed her presence earlier. Pale hands reached up to the hood and lifted it back, revealing short, pale blond hair and eyes the color of ice—
In my rage I smashed my mug on the floor and toppled my chair as I stood up. “Närcyssa… You traitorous bitch,” I growled as I unsheathed my sword and shield.
The figure in front of me stood up in a flash and frantically held up her hands, showing her empty palms. “Sister…”
“My sister is dead,” I snarled, and I launched at her.
Närcyssa unsheathed her massive axe and, to my surprise, held it to merely block my attack. I inwardly laughed – nothing she could do would save her.
“Luisette, stop!” Shifgrethor yelled, anger coloring her voice. But nothing she could do would—
Where sword should have met axe there was instead an invisible barrier. Närcyssa sighed in relief, but I was furious, realizing what had happened. I tossed my shield to the side and raised my sword once more with both hands this time. I made another swing, and Närcyssa readjusted her stance to better prepare for the incoming blow. Sword met barrier again, but I was confident.
“I wield the Red Sword of Courage, dear sister,” I spat as I pressed my blade harder against the shield. “And it’s seen the end to many cowards such as yourself.”
The shield was starting to visibly crack; Närcyssa noticed and swore under her breath.
“Do you really think your pitiful excuse for a weapon can hold up against my own?” In a final effort, I threw my weight against my sword and smiled triumphantly as the shield shattered under the force. Närcyssa had readied her axe to block, but I was too strong, too enraged to let my attack be parried like she were my equal. We crashed to the ground, and I could feel Shifgrethor’s hands on my arm, trying to break us apart.
“Luis, stop this!” I heard her cry out. “She’s been given a full pardon by the Warchief himself!”
Now, admittedly, this startled me more than it should have. I had worked with the Knights of the Ebon Blade many times before, but they were different, they weren’t… family. But in the midst of my rage, this split-second lapse in concentration was enough for Närcyssa to capitalize on. She pushed back against my sword with her axe and, combined with Shifgrethor’s efforts, I fell backwards onto the floor. Suddenly aware of my environment, I took a quick glance around the room and noticed the tavern’s patrons had mostly fled – it wouldn’t be long before a Shattrath peacekeeper arrived.
Närcyssa pushed herself off the ground, holding her hands up once more, this time in surrender. “I didn’t come here to fight.”
I curled a lip in disgust. “How can I trust anything you say anymore? You weren’t forced to fight in the ranks of the Scourge – you joined them willingly!” I had had enough. I turned my attention from her to the opening of the tavern. “Kaz!”
At my call, a tall figure dressed in elegant robes strode calmly into the tavern. His copper hair was half pulled-back, and in the dim light his blue eyes glowed—
Shifgrethor’s eyes widened and she furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “Quel’dor—”
I angrily whipped my head to face her. “As if I would associate with such scum!”
Kaz spoke in even tones to me, as if the scene in front of him fazed him not. “You summoned me, Lady Dawnrise?” He walked up to me and bent down, extending his hand to me. I took it, and he helped lift me off the ground. Eyeing Närcyssa warily, who was now standing next to Shifgrethor, I resheathed my sword and tied my shield across my back; Närcyssa kept her gaze lowered, unwilling to meet my own.
“Luis…” Shifgrethor began quietly, as if she was unsure of how to continue; the abrupt arrival of an unfamiliar party had derailed the previous tension. “Who is your companion?”
I sighed, pushing my tousled hair out of my face. I couldn’t stay angry at her – I was never able to stay angry at her. I wanted to storm out of the tavern, leave her question unanswered, but I could feel my shoulders relax as I gave in; I nodded to Kaz. Taking his cue, he faced my cousin and bowed. “I am Kazdormu of the Bronze Dragonflight, my lady. I am pleased to make your acquaintance.” He turned to do the same to Närcyssa, but I grabbed his arm and shook my head.
“Come, Kaz,” I said softly, feeling defeated, and I started for the entrance. I heard a quiet sob behind me, and instinctively I turned around. I saw Shifgrethor – my beautiful, strong cousin – with eyes full of sadness; and my sister, with eyes full of regret and abandonment… the same look I saw within her when our father left for the Outland to follow Kael’thas. A sharp ache gnawed at my gut, and I forced myself to look away.
It’s no use mourning for the dead twice.
