Sunheart

== Sunheart ==
Prologue: Introductions and Conclusions
Sateal Emberheart - Two hundred and seventeen years of age
The harsh winds of the mountains of Icecrown seemed to cut through Sateal’s thick battle-gear and chill his very bones as he gradually descended the mountain-face, his ebon black and crimson red armour obscured by the thick animal coat draped about his shoulders. Sateal had never travelled this far north and even now as he staggered onwards he continued to revaluate his decision. This desert of ice was the grave of countless honourable and dishonourable warriors, only a handful were blood elven out of the vast majority, but this time the loss of another race struck him as something of a tragedy - a feeling he was not used to. Sateal remained hunched over as he trekked the peaks of Icecrown shielding a plain parchment note he held concealed and protected by the harsh weather, his scribbling was frantic, and his breathing irregular. Sateal quickly raised his head as the piercing whistling of the wind ceased to be the only sound heard. A melodic ambience of battle resonated from the battle before Icecrown Citadel far below the mountain peaks. Sateal lowered his head and dipped his shaking hand into his satchel. He pulled out a small white hawk which in turn raised its head expectantly at its handler, he quickly tied the frozen parchment onto its leg before leaning forward and mumbling thalassian words of mysticism into its ear. A flash of light coated the celestial white messenger in a protective spell before it taking flight.
Sateal lifted his hands to his face and coughed harshly into them, obscuring his vision for a brief moment. An unnatural whistling sound pierced the air around him. He raised his head, but was too slow. A shining arcane bolt struck at the rocks at his feet and his footing is taken out from under him. Sateal is sent tumbling down the mountain-face, his head scraping along the rough surface, his armour cracking and denting against the icy stones. Eventually colliding with solid ground grunting in pain, he raised his throbbing head to find two green eyes staring out at him, glimmering through the thick blizzard. The cold air had numbed Sateals feelings hours before, but he knew would be bleeding profusely after a fall like that.
A harsh male elven voice calls out in a thick thalassian accent “I have no time for more of your delusions, more of your childish games, Sa-“ his dismissive words were abruptly cut off by the howling wind. Sateal grunted and heaved his heavy frame from the frozen ground in time to quickly raise his shield, adorned with the battered and worn image of a crimson phoenix from another arcane bolt. The sheer kinetic force of the spell sent him stumbling backwards and caused his shield to fling from his grasp, but he quickly regained his weary defensive stance. He could hear his adversary shouting through the blizzard, but he did not have to listen anymore, and so he didn’t. The blood knight glanced over his shoulder and to his right, his armour was cracked, dented or had been completely shattered against the mountain.
Sateal remained in his defensive stance, staffing to the right whilst keeping his eyes fixed upon that of his foes. He gripped the crystalline blade slung upon his back, it began to flicker and pulse with a raw arcane energy at his touch. He was in no state to survive a prolonged duel, he had to strike a single fatal blow. He had been without any mana consumption for days, so he would have to rely on his tired bones to carry him through this fight. Sateals breathing grew heavy. He pulled the crystalline blade from his back and began marching towards his adversary, his march became a fast walk, his fast walk into a jog, ducking and weaving from the arcane which shot past him. His jog soon became a sprint, he could see nothing, yet he knew where he was going, he could feel nothing, yet he knew he was taking many hits for every step he took, he was getting closer, he could feel it, soon the blood of his most hated foe will warm the air around him – and he would bathe in it. The adrenaline faded. Another arcane bolt struck his left leg, a sharp pain coursed up his leg and through his body, he buckled beneath his own weight, hit struck the ground and eventually ground to a halt. A gentle, mocking chuckle sounded from the Magister as the blizzard eventually passed, the air around Sateal was warming, but not with the blood he wanted. His nemesis was preparing a final spell. He knew this feeling, he had seen the magi use this spell before upon humans, they would writhe and scream in pain as their whole body boiled under their skin, ripping and tearing through them like salt upon a slug. Such a dishonourable death. Sateal raised his head yet again to see a fellow blood elf, swathed in expensive red robes with a ball of fel green flames cupped in one hand “I am sorry, Sateal.” The magister frowned “The last bolt would have shattered your leg, so now is your time to listen to me, Sateal. I am sorry, I am sorry for your loss-” Sateal raises his head and splutters at his hated foe “Sorry?! They. Are. Dead, Varanis. Each and every time I follow an order by you – ‘oh Great Puppeteer’ – someone ends up paying, and it is never you! My brother, my mother, my father, Ignis, Selin, Solare… my Anie. Why is it that I am the soldier yet it is always everyone else who dies, why can it not be me – or better yet – you!? I have served to the satisfaction of others for as long as I can remember. I will not suffer it any more. I do not fight these wars for honour. Faith or land Land. Wars are fought for any number of reasons, but sometimes the ones given to me are just not nearly good enough, then I just had to find my own. Mine was my family and my comrades, and you have raped that reason from me, you and those motherless bastards back in the spires of Silvermoon. I do not care anymore. I do not, because I have so little left to fight for. One way or another I will no longer' take part in these battles following today.” A moment passed, Varanis closed his eyes and let out a tired sigh before flinging the flame at Sateal.
Category:Story