Northern Witch

Down the Valley of Bones
Beneath the Darkness Eternal
Our fallen brothers lie,
Left alone for mourning sky.
Wind, heed our wailing cry
For vanquished – grant them rest.
Soothe the pain of wounds,
Bring the redemption to souls.
« Replace the body.»
« But if it will be revealed, sir?»
« They won't remove the shroud to look at her last time – disease slowly destroys her body and crusaders won't let anyone to see it. Begone, you have a task.»
Burial flames were burning bright and high – knights and clerics were paying last respect to their fallen comrade. Some clerics wept quietly, some were chanting prayers. Only knights were standing straight and not daring to move. Yet, noone could tell what was hidden under their plate armor.
Somewhere on the side of rampart were knights of the Ebon Blade, watching the flames with no sign of emotions on their faces. But all of them had their helms removed as a sign of respect.
Fire was painting armor and shields of the Ashen Verdict members into red almost for a hour or more – even Icecrown's wind dared not to disturb it.
Highlord Mograine and his people were first, who left the rampart that evening. Then went clerics, hurrying back to infirmary, and in a while knights followed them.
There were only three persons left at the end. Two paladins and a priestess – those, who knew Cardinal for a long time. Marialle Dawnblade was about to say something, but she met glance of Highlord Fordring, who shook his head and released glance to the horizon. Priestess, who was standing by Highlord's right side, let out quiet sigh and went closer to burial fire – flames were gone, but there were still ashes left.
Eithne Cyhnwyn Nightdragon, was that priestess, carefully took a little of ashes with her pale hand and let them free by the wind, whispering the prayer for Soul's Redemption. Paladins were watching her actions, repeating each word in their mind. Priestess released all the ashes by the end of prayer and only then walked off, hiding her glance from paladins and leaving them alone on the rampart.
« I hope she'll see our victory.»
« She surely will, Maria. Come, child, we've done what we should have.»
Highlord Fordring circled his arm around young paladin's shoulders and they walked off also. Wind ran across the rampart, filling silence with fading sounds of battle - somewhere in the spire troops were fighting for each little bit of their way to the Frozen Throne...
It was a busy evening for Ebon Blade barracks' wing – there were preparations for a ritual, that Argent Crusade would never let to confirm on one of it's members. But noone asked a permission – body of the Argent Dawn Cardinal and ex-ambassador of the Crusade was now here, in the hands of Ebon Hold knights . They could only hope that priestess' soul haven't passed the Gates yet or wasn't imprisoned by Lich King already.
Neophytes did their work, former members did their own and only experienced ones took their part in the ritual. It was long evening and even longer night – priestess' soul was too far away to be returned back so easily.
Few times ritual was about to be interrupted, when messengers of the Crusade entered the wing to deliver orders from Ashen Verdict command. Paladins narrowed their eyes, looking at the working knight with mistrust, but had no wish to interfere, when they've been told about reanimating one of the fallen knights.
She opened her eyes at the very dawn. Pale sunlight ran across the hall, just for a moment, to be hidden with dark clouds of Icecrown again. Woman carefully took a sit and ran her fingers trough hair. She was trying to remember what happened and could not – memory, that almost caught the pictures, faded away again. She felt pain in whole her body and couldn't move her legs.
« Welcome back, Astha.»
« Sir Mograine?...»
She haven't finished her phrase, falling silent by the sound of her voice. Woman lowered her glance at her hands and was stunned, watching pale boney fingers with horror in her eyes.
« What... What... Have... You done...»
Highlord gave no answer, watching her in silence. Woman let out loud scowl, covering her head with hands and shaking from side to side, terrified with happened to her.
Memories now ran trough her mind with great speed – if she could, she'd cry. But even returned from death's embrace so soon, she was one of the death knights now. She could not feel the Light's spark inside, that have always guided her trough the darkness. There was hollow eternity and that frightened her. Yet, all feelings, that now attacked woman, were only memories – she couldn't feel these in truth.
« Memories will fade. With time. You'll have only eternity for yourself.»
Highlord turned around and walked off, leaving her alone for now. She followed his leave with one short screech, that resounded as banshee echo in the hall. Woman was maddened – she rushed after the Highlord like a wounded animal, trying to stand up but failing and crossing the hall on her four. Long and sharp nails were breaking, but left deep scratches in the stone floor, as she chased the knight. She almost reached his cloak with her fingers, but then Highlord suddenly turned around and grabbed her by shoulders, lifting woman up.
« Live with it, you can have your revenge for what have been done with you to the Lich King. I gave you a chance. We need each unit to fight. Each, Astha.»
He was holding her firmly, avoiding her attempts to thrust broken nails into his face. She let out one more scowl and then grimace of pain appeared on her face. She wept, without tears, but yet she wept.
« They'll... See her in me... They'll ... See her ... in me...»
« There's no her. It's you.»
« No... She was... Lightweaver... Shining Flame... And I am... Monster...» 
« You were one, who told me, that we're not monsters. That are your words. You're not a monster. You're weapon, that shall be aimed at the defeat of the Lich King. That is your purpose.» 
She closed her eyes and only now Highlord let her free. Woman stood there infront of the Watcher and seemed almost as alive, as she was just two days ago, mending wounded in the infirmary. He knew that her face will loose all the beautiful lines very soon.
« You leave to Acherus now, to gain power. Now you're too weak and he might take over your mind. Return, when you'll be able to resist will of the Lich King, Astha.»
She opened her mouth to reply something, but then changed her mind and looked to side, suddenly seeming to be accepting her fate.
« Yours,» Highlord handed her something and woman returned her attention back to him. It was cloak of fine black fur...
« He...»
« Yes.»
Woman took cloak off his hands, then turned around, holding cloak close to herself, and went back slowly,leaving him no answer. Highlord let out short sigh - maybe of relief, maybe it was just the hall, that made all the sounds seem different – and finally left hall, heading back to the battlefield.
One of the neophytes opened a death gate to Acherus for woman and she followed him there. She needed to live-in with the new world – world of blades, heavy armor and wretched magics. For now she was Asthande Silverleaf once again. Not the powerful arcanist, but a loosely forged blade of the Ebon Hold.
Category:Story