Warcraft 1. Fire

**Although this fic is set in the same story line continuum as Scepter, this is not a direct sequel, and you could technically read this one first if you wish. This is set several months before the last chapter of Scepter. I am not someone that usually puts song lyrics inside of a fic, but this story sprung nearly full-formed out of these lyrics. This first chapter is a little short, just something to introduce you to the characters, then we will follow a pattern of flashback/present time until we know what's going on. **

**The song is called Love, Love, Love, by Of Monsters and Men.**

* * *

_Well maybe I'm a crook, for stealing your heart away _

_Or maybe I'm a crook for not caring for it._

_Maybe I'm a bad, bad, bad, bad person, well baby I know. _

_And these fingertips will never run through your skin_

_And those bright blue eyes can only meet mine _

_Across a room filled with people that are less important than you._

_Cause you love, love, love, when you know I can't love you._

_So I think it's best we both forget before we dwell on it_

_the way you held me so tight all through the night _

_till it was near morning._

_Cause you love, love, love, when you know I can't love you..._

* * *

"Say, what's that mark on your face?"

Kalibose unconsciously flattened his damp hair down with his palm, even though thanks to the glamour, the sigil on his forehead would be barely visible to any but the most adept at magic. It always felt like a beacon to him, blaring out a sign to anyone passing by_. I am tainted. I am quarantined_. _ I am exiled._

"A scar," he mumbled. The night elf sitting across from him prodded the fire with the tip of a stick, sending several sparks into the air. Her silver hair, an iridescent version of the shade shared by most of his family, hung around her face in lank strands. Her face was youthful, perhaps even more than his own. His eyes had always been so very quick, intensely observant, and the details of her appearance flitted through his mind without a conscious effort. Luminous eyes in a shade of silver, and between them a nose that was broader and more snubbed than was usual for their kind. Simple leather garb adorned her slim form, but she lacked the subtlety and the more obvious brutality of a rogue. Her hands and feet were mostly bare, with only strips of cloth to keep them protected from the elements. She must not be far from home, for her belongings only consisted of a plain wooden staff and the thin cloak. She had immediately taken the sopping wet article off and spread it out beside the brush pile he had been making into a proper fire before she had burst into his found shelter with no warning. He had stared at her open-mouthed, knocked completely speechless as she gave him a friendly glance and then knelt beside him to help him start the fire. Whatever she saw must have given her reason to trust him, because she chatted to him as she stacked twigs in the center of his would-be fire, as if they had met in a tavern, and the torrential downpour that had forced both of them into this tiny cave was nothing more than the roar of the nightly crowd gathered around their ale. When she had asked for a flint, he recovered enough to indignantly snap his fingers and set the spark he created to the brush. She had smiled at him, very prettily, as if he were the most clever being in the world, and all he could do was squint his eyes at her and say nothing at all.

"Did you get it from training?" she asked, gesturing with the blackened stick. It slipped from her fingers at the movement, and she tried to catch it, jerking her hand back from the flames and laughing. Kalibose watched incredulously as she inspected her hand for burns, still with that care-free smile on her face.

"No. Yes. Hold on." Kalibose broke his eyes away from her and rubbed one hand across his face. He had to get it together. Even the lie that came so easily to his lips he often forgot it wasn't the truth, slipped in the presence of this strange creature. He shifted beside the fire, leaning forward and giving her a discerning eye. "Who are you?"

She stopped waving her hand around and looked momentarily contrite. "I'm sorry, I didn't introduce myself. I'm Mae Songwhisper." He was ready for her bright smile this time, and pretended it wasn't at him. He shook his head.

"No, I mean do you know me? Because you have treated me this whole time like an old friend, and if that is your normal behavior, then you will not last long out here." He realized after he said it how rude he sounded, and he spread his arms wide to indicate himself. "I am a dangerous person. I could have attacked you as soon as I saw you. I probably should have," he muttered half to himself.

He watched her face fall through a series of complex emotions, bumping the bottom against shame, then drifting back up into the realm of guarded neutrality. When her luminescent eyes met his again, they were closed off to him. He found it easier to breathe without her overt geniality, and he hated himself a little for it. There were certain emotions he was used to dealing with: disappointment, aversion, outright hatred, or just plain indifference to his presence. Those were safe emotions, normal ones really; those were emotions that could be be ignored, or responded to with his own brand of elevated disdain for most of the rest of the world. Pleasant emotions, acceptance, generosity, friendliness: those all required effort, an expectation to respond in kind. It was a never-ending backlog of debt, and the one thing he wanted to remain free of was owing anyone anything. The fire sparked again, and he turned his attention fully to it so he did not have to see what was on her face anymore.

"You looked okay to me." Her voice had turned quietly sulky. He used the tip of the stick to shift the wood in the fire until it settled into a neat, tight flame. Fire was something he understood very well. It was a living creature that only knew one thing: hunger. It consumed and consumed until it burnt itself out. It would gleefully destroy everything in its path, which is why it had to be carefully tended. A fire was fierce and powerful, but only as far as the master who controlled it. Although he did not have the manipulative talents of the more flamboyant members of the magi, he did like to keep his fire tamed and precise.

"You are very good at that."

He cast his eyes across the fire. Mae was sitting quietly, her arms wrapped around her legs and her chin on her knees. She was watching him shape the flame with rapt attention. In spite of his previous words, and everything inside of him that pulled him away from human contact, he couldn't help but show off a bit, spinning the flame into a tight ribbon before releasing it back into the neat upside down tear drop that was its base shape. She clapped in delight, and once again Kalibose was struck by how young her face looked. His scowl deepened. He had assumed that it was because of her naivete, but maybe she really was a lot younger than he was.

"What are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere? There's nothing in this swamp for...non-magic users."

Here he floundered a bit, and waved a hand dismissively at her simple leather attire. As far as he was concerned, there were only two kinds of people in the world: ones that studied the arcane, like he did, and everyone else, and she was definitely of the latter. She glanced down at her clothes, confusion wrinkling her brow momentarily before she responded.

"Oh! I'm training to be a monk. You might not have heard of them before, it is a new skill that has been brought over from Pandaria." She got to her feet and Kalibose watched with blatant disinterest as she brought her hands together in front of her in a praying motion, and carefully balanced on one foot. He supposed that she was trying to look skillful, but to him she just looked awkward. Her voice was smooth with concentration as she took a step back, leaning her weight on her back foot and bringing her hands up in a fighting stance.

"Monks are a master of balance, taking no more and no less than what they need from the world. They are expert warriors, preferring to use only their hands and feet or a simple staff as weapons. We take a vow of poverty once we start on our path, and exist only off of what we can forage ourselves or the kindness of strangers."

She ended her speech with a solemn bow, and Kalibose's eyebrows shot up into his hairline. As she raised back up, she seemed to realize his outright derision, and for a moment the serene look on her face faltered. She pulled herself up straighter, and to his amusement lifted her chin and crossed her arms over her chest. His mouth twisted in a sardonic smirk. Little monk girl had a stubborn streak.

"The way of the monk might not be that exciting to a mage like you, but it is a noble calling."

She took that moment to scrub both of her hands through her still-wet hair and try to dry it in the fire. Water droplets fell hissing into the flames and he rolled his eyes as he prodded the campfire with his stick to form it back into an orderly shape.

"Okay, whatever. Look, I really don't have time to babysit right now, I'm trying to liberate a dangerous magical artifact from the ogre camp in the ruins to the south of here. So you can just-"

"I can help!" There it was again, that bright smile, and it caught him in a moment of distraction, and he found he had nothing to say at all. She leaned forward from trying to tame her still-damp hair and he leaned back the same amount. She seemed to sense his reluctance, and she paused, her smile drooping.

"Look, I know I don't have a lot of experience, and you probably don't really need my help, seeing as you are such a powerful mage, but it would really benefit me to help you."

She settled back and locked her hands around her knees again. She ducked her eyes to the side as she spoke. "I'm not really a full-fledged monk yet." Kalibose did everything in his power to bite back a sarcastic remark. "I'm supposed to be on a journey of self-discovery, for my final trial, and I can't find anyone that will let me help them. No one will take me seriously."

Kalibose turned his head so he couldn't see the tears brimming in her eyes, couldn't see her bite her lip in disappointment. He spoke to the fire instead. "I'm sorry, but where I'm headed is going to be dangerous enough to myself. I can't bring some..._apprentice_ along for the ride. We'll both get killed."

"Oh please take me with you." To his horror she got up and knelt in front of him, got in his personal space, and he nearly _blink_ed outside the cave to escape the intoxicating nearness of her. She tried to grab his hand, but he pulled away just in time and leaned back from her as far as he could. She didn't seem to mind how much he was averse to her presence. "I won't get in the way. I will follow whatever you tell me to do. And I can fight, I have been in training for years, I'm not just some girl that picked up a stick and started to hit things. This is my final trial, and I can't pass it until I help someone else achieve their quest."

Her eyes were silver starlight and he couldn't even think. "Fine, alright, you can come, but for fuck's sake just back off a little."

She ignored his request and threw her arms around him in excitement. By Elune she even smelled good. Holding his breath, he carefully peeled her arms off of him and ignored her multiple thank yous peppered with apologies for her enthusiasm. He retreated to the far end of the cave, where the air was damp and smelled of earth and an undercurrent of rot, not fresh clean air and lavender blossoms and something else that he couldn't place, but he wanted to bottle it and infuse a pillow with it and sleep forever.

And then because he was already thoroughly disgusted with himself and more than a little embarrassed, he grumpily called across the enclosed space before rolling up in his cloak to sleep.

"We leave at dawn, and if you're not up, I'm leaving you."


	2. Fishing

**Author's Notes: Sorry to leave you hanging for a while guys, it's the middle of costume season and I've been sewing and crafting like crazy. We've got some cool things going on for Halloween this year in the house of Zara and Elf, if you want to pop over to my deviantArt and check them out. My username is zarabethedraws.**

**Comment Replies: Feff: I hope it continues to live up to your expectations!**

**Guest: (?) Thank you so much! I hope its exciting for all involved :D**

**Fae: Kalibose is def a little shit, that's for sure :D**

**For those of you here from Scepter, you get to meet Elforen's parents in this chapter. In fact there will be a LOT of Elf's family in this story.**

* * *

_BEFORE_

* * *

"Really? Fishing again?"

Kalibose paused in the act of pulling his fishing pole out of the hall closet. He had thought the way clear when he came down for an early breakfast, with his father locked in his study and his mother in the drawing room, but he hadn't accounted for random visiting cousins. Marathel was two years further into his studies than Kalibose, and in Marathel's opinion at least, that meant he was that much better than his younger cousin. Marathel was a classic Woodstalker of his father's build: long thick white hair, skinny and tall as a reed, high cheekbones, and a pervading sense of self-importance. Kalibose was the outlier of his siblings. He did not have the stature of a gorilla like his eldest brother, Terral, nor was he the tall stick of a man that was the next brother in line, Alfric. Even the middle brother, Talrend, the one his parents kept trying to forget about, was stocky, muscular, and bore resemblance to Terral and their grandfather. His petite fiery sister Lorel was the closest in looks to the ruling matriarch of the Woodstalker family, with her attitude and her short stature. Kalibose was somewhere in the middle. He did not have the height of his father, nor the broad shoulders of two of his brothers. He had a delicateness about his hands and a softness in his posture that most resembled his mother.

Although the Woodstalker clan in general had moved on from arranged marriages or forbidding the mixing of classes, Tenethor Woodstalker, the rising leader of the druidic family, had shocked quite a few of the older generations when he chose Lunariel Moonweaver as his mate instead of pulling from the pool of available powerful druids. The priestess from the Temple of the Moon was soft-spoken, had bright blue hair, and seemed very plain to the nosy aunts in attendance to their wedding. But like any decision he made, Tenethor was steadfast in his devotion to his wife, and she bore him five children, an almost unseen feat in the age of the night elves' dwindling fecundity. Powerful druid blood ran in the Woodstalker veins, and the first two were boys born with golden yellow eyes, white hair, and an obvious talent for the druidic arts. They were nearly grown when Lunariel gave birth to their third son. Although built powerful like his oldest brother and also having white hair, he had plain silver eyes and seemed to have no talent at all: not druid, not priest. The next child born was a girl, with golden eyes and she was the darling of the family. Kalibose came last, and he also had silver eyes and the blue hair that belonged to his mother. He had early on started his training for the priesthood, and although his father sometimes gave him looks of disappointment, his mother would catch him with his books open and lightly ruffle his hair when she passed, or affectionately pat his head. She was a very quiet woman, seemingly buried under the exuberance and brilliance of her talented offspring. But secretly Kalibose admired her and thought her a very strong person, that she could maintain her grace and poise in the midst of the politics of the ruling druid family.

Kalibose sighed through his nose in irritation. He didn't know what Marathel was doing in his house at this early of a morning, but his hopes of getting out the door without an interrogation were dwindling. He leaned the fishing pole over his shoulder and closed the closet door.

"What do you want, Marathel?" he tossed over his shoulder as he made his way to the dining area. His fishing basket was already there on the table, and he laid the pole down beside it. Marathell followed him as he searched about the kitchen and laid out cheese, bread, and apples to pack for lunch. His cousin plucked at the sleeves of his apprentice priest robes as he spoke.

"Uncle Tenethor wanted to me to come help you study. Since, you know, you're falling behind."

Kalibose gritted his teeth as he wrapped his lunch up in a towel and shoved it forcefully into his basket. Of course his father had noticed his grades were slipping. He'd done his best to cover it up, hidden the letters, but in this family, everyone was watching everyone else just a little bit too closely. He took in a breath, let it out, and tried to resist the urge to punch his cousin in the nose.

"Well it just so happens I'm taking my books with me to study today. So I don't need any help this morning."

"Are you going to be studying or fishing?"

Dammit.

His father stood at the door of his study, watching the entire conversation. He was wearing expensive green and gold robes that were loose on his thin frame, and a pair of spectacles were perched on his nose. He had obviously already been at work for several hours, because he had rolled the sleeves of robe up and his white hair was starting to come undone from the tail he had pulled it into when he started. The Druid Council leader moved his glasses to the top of his head and pinched his nose as he entered the room. Kalibose straightened up subconsciously, holding his chin higher, his arms tight against his sides. To his relief his father went for the tea kettle balanced on the stove, instead of leaning in to interrogate him. The tall druid started water boiling and then leaned back against the counter to regard his son.

"You would do well to accept your cousin's generous offer of help, Kalibose."

The way he said his name made it sound disappointing, like the idea of failure was synonymous to his existence. Kalibose gritted his teeth and tried not to let it show.

"Marathel distracts me from studying, Father. I do it best in quiet." He nodded at the fishing pole laying next to his basket as his cousin made an indignant huffing noise behind him. "That's why I go down to the river."

His father's face was unreadable as he went back and forth between the cousins. Marathel's father was also a member of the council, and one that could be considered a competition to Tenethor's leadership. They were on amicable terms for now, but the Council Leader never let his guard down as far as the other druid went. Tenethor had a strong family showing in his two elder sons, already prominent members of the Cenarian Circle, but the embarrassment of their middle son still hung over the family. Even after Talrend had quietly left Darnassus to find his own fortune, Tenethor kept a tight leash on the two youngest Woodstalker children. They must be neat, polite, exemplary in their studies, and every moment the picture of an offspring of the Council Leader. Tenethor uncrossed his arms, keeping his face infuriatingly neutral.

"You are bringing your books with you in this moldy fishing basket?"

It wasn't very much of a question, more of a confirmation. Kalibose nodded tightly, too nervous to speak. His father crossed the kitchen to the counter and opened the basket. Inside were several thick tomes with titles such as _The Way of the Light_ and _Elune's Blessing_. Tenethor pulled the top one out, turning it over, and then flipping through it. Kalibose held his breath as a few random parchments fell out of the pages. He made himself calmly reach down and pick them up, turning them over so the writing was facing the floor. His father didn't notice that he handed the papers to him face down, and stuck them back in the book with a noise of approval. He handed the book to Kalibose, holding onto it a moment longer than necessary so that he could pin his youngest son with a stern look.

"You have one week to make significant progress. Elune above knows why you are set in this _emasculating_ path, but if you intend to follow its course, you will do so at a level that is on par with the rest of this family."

"Yes, sir."

Kalibose swallowed down his hurt at the insult. His father released the book, and he quickly shoved it in his basket. His father's face no longer hid his disapproval as he turned his back on his son to attend to the screaming tea kettle.

"And get a proper book bag. You're going to ruin your books."

Kalibose stuffed his lunch into his basket, threw his fishing pole over his shoulder, and fled the kitchen. He had nearly made it to the front door when a quiet voice stopped him.

"Kalibose."

His mother materialized from behind the curtain of the drawing room. Her blue hair was hidden by a lace shawl that covered her head and shoulders and draped down her back. She was not required to cover her head or her face as some Temple Priestesses did, but most days she clung to the ritual. Marathel had teased Kalibose once that she must be covering some kind of ugly scar, and he had not stopped himself from punching his cousin in the nose that day. He thought it made her look ephemeral, as if she were not meant for this political, material world that they lived in. Today though, when he was already on edge from his father's words, he resented her quiet countenance. She hid herself away from the unpleasantries of their life, and it wasn't fair that he had to take the full force of them. He held his body stiff as she reached up to smooth his long hair out of his eyes. She noticed his angry demeanor, and pulled her hand away as she turned her head to the side. Her words were nearly a whisper as she spoke.

"I will purchase you a satchel for your books in town today. Would you prefer leather?"

Kalibose flushed an ugly shade of scarlet. He had hoped that she had not overheard his father's callous dismissal of her chosen profession, but it seemed she had heard every word. He nodded without meeting her eyes.

"I've got to go study now, Mother." Without looking up, he pushed the door open and escaped the house.

* * *

_NOW_

* * *

One more black mark against the silver-haired monk: she was obviously a morning person.

Kalibose was a fitful sleeper: he always had been, even before his discovery of the arcane, when he would wake in sweats and rushes of mental alacrity. Even now, when his body was constantly drawing from a source of magic, he woke with a gasping start, always reaching for something that was amiss. He had long ago learned to counteract his exhaustion, but his temper still suffered from a bad awakening every morning.

She literally woke him up with her talking that morning, chattering on to herself like there was another separate person in the cave. She had dug through his travel bag and found a coffee pot, and was brewing something fragrant and strong on the smoldering coals of their campfire. He had started awake worse that usual, knowing for sure there was someone else there this time, even though the coffee smelled pleasant and washed the dusty scent of the cave from his nostrils. He sat up sharply, shoving his hood off his face and looking around with bleary eyes.

"Good morning, Sunshine," she greeted him cheerfully. She looked just as fresh and spry as she did yesterday evening, and he felt acutely aware of his sweaty hair and worn clothes. He half-heartedly smoothed his blue hair back and located the tie that had slipped out while he was sleeping. He pulled his stringy hair back away from his face and heard another rustling from the fire. He watched the monk with open exasperation as she rummaged through his travel bag and produced two cups. Anger flared in him and brought him the rest of the way awake. He gathered his cloak around himself and grumbled as he stomped his way closer to the fire.

"Have you truly never heard of a thing called personal space?" He grabbed the cups out of her hands and she gave him a puzzled look as he poured himself a cup of coffee. He carelessly took a sip of the burning liquid, forgetting that it had been moments ago boiling, and cursed as it burnt his tongue. He tossed the other cup at her before gesturing from the coffeepot to his travel bag.

"This is my coffeepot. This is my bag. Don't go poking through my stuff without asking. We learned that in nursery school, remember?"

Still smarting over his scalded mouth, he whispered an incantation and produced an sliver of ice to cool his coffee down. Mae held her cup out to him, and he did the same for her, although not without rolling his eyes first. Just in case she forgot that he was not a nice person. She blew on her cup and gave him a curious look.

"How was I supposed to make coffee without finding a coffeepot? Besides, we're sharing: this is my coffee, and your pot. We learned that in nursery school too."

The triumphant smirk she gave him stole away his angry retort and he grumpily stared at his cup as he replied. "Just ask first next time."

They broke camp quickly, and true to his word, they stepped out into the morning air just as the sun fully rose into the sky. It was crisp in the early spring air, and Kalibose pulled his cloak tight around him as they walked. Much to his consternation, the monk had resumed her earlier stream-of-consciousness talking, only now it was directed at him. Every now and then he grunted in reply, but his mind was off making plans.

He had passed his own perverse mockery of adult trials months before, and had been presented with his mage's staff upon completion. It was with him now, oozing a trickle of magic in its wake. It was powerful in its own right, but it was fitted with a casing to hold an amplifier, and that was the object he was searching for in Dustwallow Marsh. His staff was nothing special: merely the standard oaken branch covered with runes that every young mage received when their apprenticeship was complete. His fellow students might be content with it, but it was not enough for Kalibose. Before he had even taken his trials, he had been researching amplifiers and enhancers to add to his staff to make it truly powerful, and uniquely his. There were so many different things that could be used in this manner in Azeroth: crystals, religious artifacts, objects that by themselves held no power, but were etched with ancient runes that glowed with an inner light. They all enhanced different kinds of magic as well. Fire blossoms from deep inside the Maelstrom that lived after being plucked from their plant, crystalized tears from ice giants in Winterspring, those were common amplifiers of fire and ice magi. Although Kalibose had a little talent with those branches of magic, and he was confident he could master whatever kind of magic he desired, his special spark was arcane. It was the most temperamental branch of magic, the hardest to define, and by far the most powerful. Wielders of pure arcane magic were more prone to madness, and even if a neophyte mage realized they were more inclined to the arcane, they would often study another field to test in, then learn arcane slowly, gaining experience with age. Many arcane mages died during their adult trials. Kalibose never even entertained the thought that he would fail. He was not well-liked among his instructors, and especially not among his peers. But he surpassed what everyone had expected of the young outcast mage.

The amplifier that he chose was one of the most powerful attainable amplifiers in existence. It was a piece off of the draenei ship Exodar that had crash-landed on Azeroth several years previous, and was still charged with the energy of the Nether. Immediately after the draenei's violent entrance to the planet, gold-hunters had collected fragments of the ship that had broken off and sold them on the black market at exorbitant prices. This particular crystal, an octagonal gem of deep amethyst called the Eye of Argus, had not been broken in the fall. It had been stolen right out of the center of the ship by a very bold goblin. It was a fragment of the ship's communication computers, and it was fine-tuned to absorb and transmit energy.

Kalibose had spent months tracking the gem. It had passed from bad sale to bad sale, fallen into enemy hands, and lost in battle. Every single person who laid hands on it fell to a horrendous fate. It eventually made its way to Dustwallow Marsh, where its owner succumbed to the destruction of Theramore. Ogres of the marsh had scavenged it out of the ruins, and they held it in their stash at the center of Stonemaul Ruins. At least that's what Kalibose assumed. He had used a powerful scrying spell to find the location of the Eye, and as far as Kalibose knew, he was the only one who knew where it was. He didn't believe the stories that said the gem was cursed: most likely the magic was erratic and hard to control. Like his trials though, he never entertained the thought of failure. This gem would bring him power that he had never felt before, and he was going to make it his.

The monk laughed loudly at some story she was regaling and clapped him on the shoulder. He flinched and turned on her in irritation.

"Can you please just shut up for five minutes so I can think?" Kalibose scowled at her, and for an instant her silver eyes looked hurt, then they hardened and she lifted her chin.

"There is no need to be rude-"

"There is no need to talk incessantly without stopping. You realize that we are not in a particularly friendly area, there are Horde and ogres and rogue Tauren infecting this entire region, and I would prefer to keep out of their notice."

Kalibose clenched one shaking hand. He was inordinately angry, even for him, and he knew it was because he was nervous to finally be this close to the Eye. Even with this knowledge, his mouth opened and continued to run without his approval.

"I have no clue how you aren't fucking dead by now. You latch on to people, you pawed all through my stuff, you talk _without ceasing_, and-"

"I am trying to be friendly!" Mae stomped her foot and shoved her face close to his. Her cheeks were flushed dark purple, and her eyes were lit ablaze. She poked him in the chest with one finger.

"Look, you fancy-ass jerk, I am being nice because I am supposed to be. I am a monk! We are supposed to help! We are supposed to be friendly and kind to all we meet! I am usually the nicest person, but you are making it especially difficult!"

She withdrew her finger from his chest, which he was grateful for: he nearly froze it off before he caught himself. She took a deep breath, blew it out, and brought her hands together in front of her. He had no time for her serenity bullshit, and opened to his mouth to say so when she spoke again.

"Now, let's start over." She opened her eyes, and extended her hand to him. "Hi, I'm Mae Songwhisper, I'm a monk in training, and I'd like to help you on your quest as part of my final trials. May I have your name?"

Kalibose gritted his teeth. He chewed the inside of his mouth, clenched both hands on his staff, and he screamed every obscenity he knew in his head in her direction. With an enormous effort, he nodded his head curtly.

"I am Kalibose. I am trying to retrieve a crystal from the ogre camp south of here. I prefer to walk in silence."

That was all he could get out before she smiled again, that smile that he loathed because it lit up her face and let sunshine into the air around them.

"There, wasn't that much easier?" She whipped around with a flourish, and started south on the path again. He gripped his staff and leaned on it as he followed her, feeling the runes on it with his fingers and trying to calm his temper. To his dismay the quiet only lasted a few minutes.

"I don't think I caught your name before. It's a nice name. I don't know anyone else named Kalibose. Do you have a surname?"

To her credit, she had quieted her voice down to a normal volume. He snorted to himself, wishing this day was already over, the crystal was in his possession, and he no longer had a travel companion.

"It's Woodstalker."

She turned around and walked backward to face him, seeming not to mind the pits in the road. Her steps were sure, and he grudgingly admired her grace.

"Aren't there some druids called Woodstalker in the capital city? I'm from Astranaar, and I don't get to Darnassus often. The Cenarian Circle passes through on their way to Felwood though, and I've met a few."

She tipped her head to the side, still walking backward without falter. "They weren't very talkative either. You must be related to them."

"Most likely," came out of his mouth before he intended to reply. He ducked his head to the side, and stopped watching the otherworldly way she seemed to avoid obstacles without seeing them. He examined the bushes around the edge of the path, and tried to plan out how they were going to sneak into the ogre camp undetected. She continued to talk while turned toward him, her voice drifting quietly back to him on the still morning air. When she wasn't screeching with laughter or being loud, he found it a pleasant ambiance to the morning.

"Astranaar is kind of backwoods, even for night elves. It's a big city, but it's a big city in the middle of a huge ancient forest. There isn't much to do there if you aren't a farmer or a druid. Thankfully Master Lau came wandering through on his exploration of Kalimdor, and stayed for awhile to train the beginning monks."

She stepped carefully around a bend in the path without turning. Kalibose squinted his eyes and gestured to her, curiosity finally getting the best of him.

"How do you do that without falling?"

She smiled and laughed a little at her feet. "This is a game my sister and I used to play. We'd see how far we could go without tripping. That way we could talk face to face while we walked to town. I've always been good at stuff like this. That's why I decided to become a monk. Well, that and I like to help people."

She turned around and waited for him to catch up before continuing. "My parents weren't really thrilled with the idea of me being a wandering, helpful traveler. They're gardeners, just humble vendors in town. They don't leave much."

Her voice quieted, and he stole a glance at her under the cover of his hood.

"I guess this is why it's so important for me to do well on my final trials. I want to prove to them that I'm better than just a simple farm girl, that I can go out and do some good in the world on my own."

She fell to silence then, finally, but Kalibose found he didn't mind that she had been talking. Not that much though. Not enough to continue the conversation, and not enough to reply. Just enough to remember what she said and think on it as they neared the rocky crags that indicated the Stonemaul Ruins.

* * *

**Next chapter will probably not come until after Halloween, but after that we'll try to have regular updates. **


	3. Crystal

**Author's Notes: UGH sorry it's been so long. This story has actually been more work than I originally planned, even though I love it. It's telling two stories at once, although both need to be told to tell the entire story. **

**Reviews: Lulla-yeah, he needs to work on not being as much of a jerk. He tries :D**

**Nyte: Look more outcast! ha ha. Less of Kalibose being a snot, more of his inner workings. **

**Bohmz: I've already replied to you in PM but THANK YOU so much for the lovely, detailed comment. Comments like those give me life :D**

* * *

BEFORE

* * *

Kalibose ran like the wolves of the Ancients were after him. He had always been a swift runner, and he twisted and turned through the woods to throw off the shame that covered his thoughts. By the time he reached the river, he was panting for breath and his emotions were clear. He slowed his pace to a jog, and went deeper, down to where the river left any semblance of civilization and grew into a mass of overgrown reeds and trees made fat and lazy by the abundant water source. He pushed his way through the crowded clump of vegetation and came abruptly into a clearing. As he stepped into it, he took a deep breath and let out a world of tension. This clearing did not exist naturally, but had been carefully shaped and carved out by his hands and hours of work. It was as safe a place as he had ever had, and he took his heavy basket off his shoulder with a sigh and set it down on the low table set nearest the river. It listed to one side, and Kalibose adjusted the basket accordingly. He had found it broken out by the trash one day, and had lugged it back here after dark. He was no carpenter, and he had never been good with his hands, so his best efforts only produced a patched together, lopsided surface. He did not need much for his work, though.

He retrieved the top book from his basket and opened it up on the table. Even though the outside of the book read _The Way of the Light_, the title shimmered as he read from its contents. The very first spell a mage would learn, out of necessity, and the most important, was a glamour spell. He searched for a moment until he found the one that he wanted. A silencing ward. A tad difficult for a novice, but not impossible. He held the book in one hand as he slowly walked the four corners of his workspace, drawing the symbols out in mid-air and whispering the incantation. As he did, he _felt_ the magic move through him: it was almost painful, the way it seeped into his every pore and tried to dominate him. It was his job, as the beginning mage, to dominate it.

Finishing his silencing wards, he sat the book down on the table and breathed in the energy that now buzzed in the small clearing. This is what he wanted from his life. He had never been powerful, never been popular, never been good at anything. He couldn't even truly rebel right, and leave off the confines of society to do his own thing. Discovering the arcane had given him something he had never had before: an advantage against others. He had just dabbled at first: a glamour here, a memory enhancer there. Now though, he could barely separate himself from the magic he practiced in secret. He wanted to learn all of its mysteries, and more than anything, he wanted to not care anymore what his family expected of him.

He flipped the book open to another page, one filled with diagrams of arcane runes. He left off yesterday practicing drawing runes out on the earth. There were many reasons to do so: a simple rune could amplify power, or it could create a safe space. It could be used to summon a powerful being, or trap an enemy. But the art of memorizing and then re-creating the rune onto the ground perfectly took a fair amount of skill. Etching a rune required complete concentration with no interruptions. He knelt on the soft earth in the middle of the clearing, and humming under his breath, started. A thrum of power pulsed in his ears as he drug his finger carefully through the dirt, making clear, strong lines. As he did so he felt a searing line of pain in his back. Feeling pain would normally make one stop what they were doing, but Kalibose felt a sense of triumph as he continued making the rune. If it felt like he was etching the rune onto his own skin, then he was doing it correctly.

There was a rustle of leaves near him, outside his circle and away from the river. He paused, not wanting to lose the symbol he had already started, but the buzzing grew in his ears, and he knew that even pausing was ruining it. He broke his contact with the rune, and groaned out loud as all of the magic left his body in a rush. He hit the ground with his hands, feeling weak and nauseated. After a few deep breaths, he stood to check the bushes. There was a smudge of dirt on the ground, but it unidentifiable: it could be an animal or a person, and he was sure it if was a person, he would already be caught. Shaking off his unease, he stepped back into his clearing, and began again.

* * *

AFTER

* * *

The first thing that gave Kalibose pause as they neared the rocky crags of the Stonemaul Ruins, was that the air was warm and dry, when only minutes before, when he and the monk were conversing on the road, it was chill and slightly damp as most early spring air was. He slowed his pace, leading them off of the path, and behind a cluster of short, fat swamp trees. Mae had been twirling her staff around and whistling under her breath, but as soon as she saw him leave the path, she was all business, gripping her staff and crouched down behind him.

"What's going on?" she whispered, too close to his ear for his taste. He gestured to the air around them.

"What do you smell?"

She leaned back from him, her face screwing up in concentration as she scented the air. "I smell that horrid ogre compound over the ridge, but I also smell...fire?"

Kalibose nodded. "Not a campfire, either. We will have to be cautious." He stood, gathering his cloak around him, and circled the trees to approach the ruins from the side. "Now would be a good time to prove to me that you actually do know what you're doing with that staff."

"I would be happy to." Mae bowed dramatically, and followed along at his side as he picked his way through the marsh to the ruins.

As they got closer the air grew even more warm and smokey, and there was a distant sound of fighting. Kalibose kept a concussive spell ready in one hand as they reached the crumbling wall that marked the edge of the ogre city. They followed the wall silently, looking for an opening, hearing the sounds of fighting growing nearer. Kalibose paused a moment before they reached a gap, and wiped his sweaty palms against his robe. He didn't like the noises coming from the ruins: grunts, howls of pain, and low snarls. He couldn't place just what was fighting within, and it sounded too serious to be an internal scuffle among the ogres.

He tried to sense deeper inside the ruins, to see if the attackers were magical in origin, when suddenly every nerve ending stood up on end, and he nearly fell to his knees. He _heard_ what could only be the Eye of Argus, thrumming on the air like some living force of energy. He gasped, hardly able to focus, and put one hand against the wall to hold himself upright. Mae started at his reaction, and holding her staff at ready, scowled into the marsh around them, as if she could find the source of his distress. Kalibose closed his eyes and felt every single cell in his body _yearn_ toward the power of the crystal. He was a man dying of thirst in the desert, and the Eye of Argus was the purest, wettest, most perfect glass of water in existence. He dropped down his knees, eliciting a surprised noise from the monk. He put his hands to the ground and tried to control his desire.

Of the three schools of magic, it was not an exaggeration that the arcane drew the most upon the body and so caused the worst addiction. There was nothing practical about it, like the mundanities of starting a fire or cooling his drink down. The arcane was raw, pure, power, and the desire to absorb as much into his body as possible until he lost the ability to control it. He was certain that other magi might get a certain high when conjuring a giant fireball, or a calling down a blizzard to blanket his enemies. He knew it could not compare to the euphoria a surge of powerful arcane could do to him: it was like taking a hit of the purest cocaine in existence, then using that to bend time and space to his will. It was power in its purest forms, and it was no wonder that a lot of arcane mages lost their mind to their addiction. The only question was that why _all_ arcane mages did not fall into madness almost instantly.

The power source that was calling him was nearly lethal in its draw: he would walk into that ogre camp without a stitch on him just to be a few steps closer to bathing in its power. Kalibose had only his grim determination and almost supernatural gift of stubbornness to keep him on this side of the edge of sanity. He dug his hands into the dirt, twisting it into his fingers, and felt the texture of it. Just outside the ringing of his ears he heard Mae whispering fiercely, concerned that some unseen enemy was affecting him. He was sure she was trying to help, but it only served to distract him from pulling away from the call of the crystal. He knocked the dirt off of his fingers, and reached around to his back to retrieve his staff. It was a quick and dirty fix, but he needed to get his mind together. He gritted his teeth as he placed both hands on the staff, then slammed the butt of it onto the ground. He did not shield his hands, and he did not release the staff, and as a result it shocked him, quick and intense, and he sat down hard against the ground, shaking his head as lights danced before his eyes.

"What on Azeroth was that?" Mae's voice had risen from a whisper to a comical attempt at remaining quiet. She had jumped back at the sudden flash of light, and now she reached down to haul him to his feet. He staggered as he stood, leaning against her and trying to settle his dazed head.

"That," he realized he was still clutching her arm, and let go with a sniff and shook his sleeve down to cover his hand, "was the artifact we are looking for. It is even more powerful than I thought. When we retrieve it, we will have to be cautious."

Mae looked at him, wrinkling her nose between her eyes. She looked hesitant, and Kalibose felt a flare of impatience fueled by the constant nudge of the crystal's call in his mind. Before he could spit out something sharp, she seemed to gather herself together and tried to peer through a crack in the stone.

"Just so we are both clear on the plan, we are sneaking in, finding this thing, and then we will..." she glanced back at him expectantly.

"'This thing' is a powerful amplifier. I will fuse it to my staff." Anticipation of laying his hands on the Eye of Argus and feeling its energy course through him took him for a moment, and he had to shake his head and remind himself that he still needed every ounce of his cunning to find it first. He straightened his robe and tried to pretend it wasn't affecting him.

"I will need you to guard me during this process. It shouldn't be long." He took the remaining steps to the gap in the stone wall and listening intently, poked his head around quickly before withdrawing it. The small courtyard beyond the wall was clear of living creatures. Mae took her place right behind them as they cautiously made their way in.

"How will we know where to find the crystal?"

Mae's quiet question drew a humorless chuckle from Kalibose. He could feel the crystal's energy pulsing over him like waves, drawing him closer to it.

"Oh, that won't be an issue at all."

The tiny courtyard they found themselves in right beyond the wall may have been empty, but there was a commotion right at the exit. With a tremendous effort, Kalibose put the crystal's pull out of the front of his mind, and prepared another concussive spell in his hand. The scuffling grew louder, and one of the combatants was knocked back through the doorway in front of them. Kalibose jumped back, and just barely made out the glisten of black and red scales and the elongated snout of a dragonkin when Mae darted out in front of him and cracked it solidly on the head with her staff. An ogre roared as it came through the doorway, and not to be outdone, Kalibose fired off the concussive spell, and knocked it out cold. It fell in a heap right on top of the dragonkin, blocking the doorway.

He and the monk stood there for a minute, breathing hard and surveying the fallen enemies. Kalibose looked over at Mae, who squared her shoulders and brushed her silver hair out of her eyes before looking over at him. He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head at the dragonkin.

"I wasn't sure if it was dead or not, so I made sure."

Kalibose nodded, feeling a grudging respect starting in the back of his mind. He used the end of his staff to poke at the two bodies. There were scorch marks on the ogre, and injuries on the dragonkin. He found a large pouch on the belt of the scaled creature and nodded his head as he pushed himself back to standing.

"The dragonkin are attacking the ogres for their magical artifacts. We need to hurry before they find the Eye."

After a moment's deliberation, he grasped a handful of the downed ogre's ratty tunic and pulled himself to the top of the pile of bodies. Mae leapt nimbly up beside him and scrambled down into the entrance to the main encampment. Kalibose glared at her agility and awkwardly slid down after her. He landed unsteadily on the ground, stumbling a step, before getting his bearings and starting another concussive spell in his hand. That kind of spell drained him, especially when he was trying so hard to keep tabs on the crystal without it overtaking his mind, but it was highly effective and likely to hit its mark. Once he had the Eye of Argus though...

He would never have to worry about mana again.

There was scuffling in between the buildings of the ogre compound and pockets of fighting everywhere. Residue of smashed huts and flames hastily put out covered the ground. Two massive ogres, each the size of a mountain individually, were walking their way, dragging behind them a dragonkin corpse. Belatedly Kalibose realized that they had stumbled into the area they were arranging their dead. There were piles of dragonkin and ogres everywhere, like a macabre maze puzzle. He got a grip on his spell, trying to decide which ogre to take out first, when he saw Mae step to the very middle of the courtyard, twirling her staff at her side and acting like she was going on a morning stroll. For a brief, insane moment he thought that she just didn't see the massive creatures right in front of her, until she called out to them.

"So, my smelly friends." She halted her staff abruptly, then held it slightly behind her at ready as she bowed to the ogres who had pulled up short, staring at her in confusion. "Who is first?"

Kalibose just stared at her and did not move. This stupid, fool monk was going to die, right there in front of him, and not only did he not think he'd be able to do anything about it, he was starting to think it would be kinder to just let her go. He held onto the concussive spell, waiting to see who made a move first. The ogres dropped the fallen dragonkin they were carrying and charged, roaring. Kalibose cringed, waiting for the monk to get crushed.

With a visible swirl of wind, Mae did not wait for them to come to her, but also charged at them. She moved faster than he had ever seen anyone move. The dust kicked up around her feet as she confronted the first ogre, who had only picked up the pace when he saw his opponent meeting him for battle. She easily dodged the swing of his mace and without pause _ran up_ the slovenly paunch of his stomach until her feet connected with his face. The impact as she kicked off into the air was enough to knock the ogre back several feet. The other ogre made a clumsy grab at her with his hands, but she was a gust of wind, moving too fast to catch. She cracked him on the ribs, the stomach, his head with her staff, and when he bellowed at her in confusion, she drew back and landed a solid kick on his chin. He fell to the ground, knocked unconscious, and without pause, she rounded on the other ogre, who had recovered and swung at her with his fists. She dodged, grabbed his arm, and used his momentum to fling him to the ground. With a leap, she rammed the butt of her staff into the back of his skull, and he was still.

Kalibose stood there for a moment, trying to put his thoughts back together. He was familiar with fighters of course, brutal, oafish things, and even skilled swordsmen who practiced their craft like it was a somewhat sweaty dance. But the silver-haired monk in front of him had just made fighting look like a fucking _art form_. Mae wiped a hand across her forehead, and bouncing on her toes a bit, took a few steps back from her fallen foes. He thought she would at least be winded from her fight, but she seemed to be ready to go again. He swallowed and jogged up to her, still holding onto his concussive spell, although he doubted he needed it anymore.

"Not bad, monk," he finally forced out of his mouth. She smiled at him, still bright as the sun but he could see now a hardness in her eyes, a reflection of the discipline and focus she must rely on. She leaned her staff against her shoulder a moment to dust her hands off and adjust the wrappings on them.

"Thanks. Ogres are not smart, they are easy opponents. Which way do you think?"

As soon as she had reminded him of the crystal's presence, his entire body reacted to the pull of its magic, and he had to lean down to catch his breath.

"There," he pointed. "At the northeast corner of the compound."

They made their way cautiously through the rioting encampment, ducking around the sides of ruined huts and trying to avoid conflict. Although he had no doubts anymore about the monk's skills, he knew he would need as much mana as possible to obtain and then subjugate the Eye of Argus. He couldn't waste it all on fighting. As long as the ogres and dragonkin were content to slaughter each other, then he was not going to get in the way.

Near the back of the compound, they came upon the main battle. They crouched behind a broken wagon, watching the ogres and dragonkin destroy the surrounding village and each other. Kalibose squinted behind them. There was a cave there, barely visible as a deep shadow in a jutting wall of rock. He tapped Mae on the shoulder, and pointed to the cave.

"That's where the crystal is."

"Seriously?" Her expression matched his own nerves. It was going to be a trick to get through the throng of enemies battling to the death. He was positive though. It felt like all the magic in the area was being pulled into that cave, and if he unfocused his eyes, he could see the ley lines bending towards it.

"I can _blink_ us to the middle of the battle, then we will have to run for the cave. Once we are inside, we will have to defeat any creatures quickly, as I have to reserve my mana to contain the Eye. Clear?"

Her face screwed up in determination, and she nodded. He stood, gathering his cloak around himself tightly. She did the same, and he grasped onto her elbow and _nudged_ them past the tenuous boundary of time-space into an open spot in the middle of the field. It was nearly instantaneous, and he heard Mae gasp aloud when they landed. It was always jarring, the first time one slipped through the fifth dimension, but they had no time to acclimate. Kalibose immediately took off running, tugging at the monk's elbow to get her to follow. They took out a couple ogres blocking the entrance to the cave, but if any of the others even noticed they were there, they did not act on it.

Once inside the cave, Kalibose was struck with a wave of energy so strong it nearly knocked him over. He staggered, feeling disoriented, and completely missed the group of two-headed ogres standing inside guarding a glowing enclosure. They all turned to look at him at once, and Kalibose felt the first twinge of real fear in this entire mission. That was a LOT of ogres, and the smarter ones as well. He raced through spells in his mind as beside him, Mae set her feet and readied her staff. These were magic users: if he were to do a blocking spell, it would give them a solid chance. He cringed as he prepared the spell: it was more mana than he wanted to use right now, but it was their best chance.

"Wait," he whispered to Mae. She did not advance into them like she did the others, and he threw the spell. There was a loud POP like all the air had been sucked out of the room at once. The ogres blinked in confusion, and Mae took that opportunity to rush into them. She was a whirl of unrestrained exuberance, and Kalibose slipped past the entire mob to reach the glowing enclosure. With shaking hands, he opened it.

There had been no descriptions of the actual crystal itself in the texts he had found. He was not that surprised, actually. Every single one warned the reader away from it, and it only added to the mystery of it. Kalibose felt a rightness inside of him that the crystal was an almost fluorescent shade of purple that glowed with an inner living light and didn't look as if it was completely in this world. Purple was the color of the arcane.

"Like calls to like," he whispered in awe. He barely noticed that Mae gave out a sharp cry behind him, whether in pain or triumph, he wasn't sure. He was completely enthralled with the object in front of him, and had to stop his hand from just reaching up to caress it. If he touched the Eye of Argus, an entity of pure energy, without shielding himself or any kind of preparations, it would likely kill him instantly. He forced himself to step away, finally, and pulled from his bag a metal band. It was covered with containment runes, preparations he had spent hours making before he had departed on this trip. It was mostly an empty gesture though: it would be up to him and his will to bind the crystal to his staff and thus to himself. If the crystal accepted him, if he was able to hold it, then he would use the metal band to help keep it contained.

He took a few deep breaths, calming his mind and stilling his thoughts. He blocked out the growls and screams from outside the cave, a whimpering sound mixed with harsh breathing in the corner, and everything else in reality. There was only himself, and the Eye. And when he took hold of it, there would no longer be a distinction between the two, and there would be only himself. Every single nerve was on edge as he reached forward and grasped the stone.

The air around him immediately erupted into a swirling mass of energy. It felt like it was trying to tear him to pieces. _It's fighting me,_ was the only thought he could form as he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to keep his focus together. It was like holding a living tornado in his hand, and he realized at some point that he was yelling as he struggled to bring the crystal to the end of his staff. In reality, it was only about eighteen inches away, but it might as well be in another universe, and he had only his bare feet to bridge the distance. After a few seconds of barely holding on, just trying to keep himself together, he found his inner iron core. He had given too much to find this crystal. He would make it his or die trying. He gritted his teeth together and _pulled_ the crystal to him. It screamed, a deafening cacophony of energy that he could feel with every cell of his body. As he locked his focus onto the crystal and shoved with all his might, he thought to himself that on some level, the crystal might actually be alive, and he was trying to contain a living source of mana. A living source of mana that might not actually ever succumb to him fully. He refused to take anything but complete subordination as a solution. He had defeated every odd that had been placed against him: being banned from his homeland, left to starve or die in the wilderness, then put through harsh and nearly fatal magical trials to prove his worth.

He squinted his eyes to see how close he was getting. He was a few inches from victory.

He would not be bested by a self-aware piece of rock.

With a final shove and a shout, he yanked the crystal from its holding case and connected it with his staff. It blazed with a blinding violet light, and it did not immediately back off as he had thought it would once it had been conquered. In fact it shone even brighter, as if it was angry that it had been captured. He fumbled the metal band around it, locking it into place with the remaining drops of mana he still had left. Finally, the crystal ceased its fighting and dimmed, pulsing slightly behind its containment like an vivid purple heartbeat.

Kalibose's hands shook, and he tried to take a deep breath. Failing even that much coordination, blackness crept into his vision and he collapsed.


	4. Caught

**Author's Notes: There ended up being a lot of injuries in this chapter ha ha. I'm counting this chapter as the weekend update, hoping to get updates to every other week (or faster, if possible).**

**Comments: Bohmz: I was hoping everyone would love Mae a little bit more in that chapter! Seeing her only from Kalibose's PoV is so limiting sometimes. And you should definitely have a pretty heavy sense of foreboding by now :).**

**Lulla-hi: No chance of that, as he was still addicted in the Winter's Veil special. Can't change what you don't want to. **

**Feff: Oh man I struggled with those fight scenes, I'm glad everyone liked them :D**

* * *

BEFORE

* * *

"I did it."

The words were in a whisper. It was all he could muster: his body was wracked with pain and exhaustion, he was covered in sweat, and blood dripped out of his nose. _But he did it. _

Before him in the clearing was a beautiful arcane rune, clear and bright. Its lines glowed brilliantly in the late afternoon light, and he could feel the power coming off of it in waves. It had taken him all day, in starts and stops, practicing and redoing, but _he did it._

Laughter bubbled out of him without him even realizing it. He leaned back on his heels, admiring his hard work, laughing like a lunatic. Every line was perfect and precise. Never mind that his head was pounding and he felt shaky, like he hadn't eaten in a week. This was a big step. This wasn't little insubstantial magic, this was the real thing, and he had done it. He threw his head back and laughed louder. His triumph was overtaking the rest of his senses, and if he wasn't so bone-weary, he would get up and dance.

There was a terrific crash from the bushes, and drained of all energy and a lot of his ability to think clearly, Kalibose simply turned his head to stare at the intruders in confusion. Night elves. Druids. What were they doing in his sacred circle? The tallest one grinned at him, an oily gesture that did not make him look any friendlier. He rubbed his hands together and Kalibose belatedly realized that the other two men had moved to a safe distance on either side of him.

"Finally caught you, you slick bastard." His voice was terribly familiar, and caught in his mana-loss fugue, he struggled to place his face. A wet footstep caught his attention just as his entire back lit up in a scorching pain. He screamed, feeling the rune burning itself under his flesh, before the man to his side scraped his foot through the mark on the ground, destroying the arcane rune. All of the magic left Kalibose, and he pitched forward, retching nothing but bile onto the ground. The three men around him laughed, a low rumble of cruelty, while the one beside him continued to scrub over the lines of the rune, as if he had not already destroyed it when he broke the integrity the first time.

"What the hell was that thing, anyway?"

"What...have...you... done?" There were tears streaking down his face, and he did not care. This, brute, this _imbecile_, had just...

In a ferocious growl of pain, he lunged at the man, wanting nothing more to destroy him in his agony. He grasped the edge of his robe, and managed nothing more than a weak blow to his leg. The three men reacted though as if he had attacked them with a deadly weapon, shouting and rushing at him. He was grabbed from behind, lifted off the ground, and the tallest (his cousin, he was sure he was a cousin) slammed his fist into his face repeatedly. Kalibose's vision blurred in and out and blood streamed down his face before the man stopped. His cousin's face twisted in disgust, and he leaned forward and spat in the young mage's face before he finally walked away.

"Hold him, Kellen." The name sounded vaguely familiar, and Kalibose tried to hold onto consciousness as the other two druids started rummaging through his belongings. If Kellen did not have his arms locked around him, he would have fallen to the ground. Kalibose watched in detached horror as they opened up his books and shook out his notes. He hadn't remade the glamour after using them this afternoon, and the arcane runes and instructions were clearly visible to any reader. The third druid recoiled in disgust from the writing.

"What vile filth!" He took a handful of pages and ripped them right out, shredding them into useless slivers of paper on the ground. Kalibose made a pained noise at the destruction, earning him a punch to the gut. When he could finally lift his head again, he saw his cousin place his hand on the other man's arm.

"Wait, Jorus: we need all of this intact. This is incriminating evidence."

Jorus held the book away from him as if it would bite him. "This is disgusting. We should just kill him now and keep him from infecting anyone else."

The other druid shook his head. "No, Uncle Tenethor wanted him alive. He has a soft spot for the brat. Or maybe he just wants to make him an example."

The druid's mouth split into a nasty grin, and Kalibose finally remembered his name. He spoke it aloud, begged him with it for mercy.

"Valanor, Cousin, please..." His words were horribly garbled, and he wondered for a moment if he had been understood at all. Valanor's face hardened, and he strode forward to him, lifting his head up by the hair.

"You don't get to speak, you dirty junkie." He took careful aim, and his fist slammed into Kalibose's jaw one final time.

* * *

AFTER

* * *

"_Kalibose_!"

Someone was whispering his name in increasing volume, and despite the horrid pounding in his head, he struggled upward to consciousness. As best as he could tell, he was laying flat on his stomach on a bare earth floor, and his nose was pushed into the dirt. There was some movement nearby, and a loud gasp of pain.

"Kalibose, please wake up, I need your help!"

With a great deal of determination, he pushed himself up onto his elbows. He sputtered dust out of his mouth and felt his head renew its pounding with force. He groaned, and then heaved himself up to sitting.

"Oh thank Elune you're awake. I'm trapped, and I think my ankle is broken."

Kalibose scrubbed a hand across his eyes as he searched the cavern. Ever single ogre was down, either by the monk's hands or the explosion from the crystal.

The crystal.

As if it had heard him, it flared next to him where he had dropped his staff on the ground. He picked up the staff and felt a little of his energy return to him. He had drained nearly all his mana, and it had knocked him out cold. Fighting nausea, he used his staff to push himself to standing. He tried to speak, coughed out more dust, and swallowed before he could make a sound come out.

"Where are you?" His voice sounded harsh to his ears, and he fumbled for the flask he kept at his belt. Generally, he only kept it for emergencies, but he was in a cave surrounded by enemies, out of mana, and with an injured companion. That all seemed to add up to a substantial emergency. He tried not to inhale the scent of the potion as he tipped it all down his throat in one swallow. He gagged on it, but kept it down as he felt a surge of energy go through him all at once. He knew of some mages who were as addicted to mana potions as they were to magic itself, and he couldn't understand it all. He had always felt a personal triumph when he managed to down one without vomiting it back up immediately.

There was a rustle of movement again, and Mae's strained voice drifted over to him. "Over here."

Leaning on his staff, Kalibose made his way through the bodies until he found her. She was most definitely trapped: a particularly fat ogre was crushing one of her legs, and when she tried to pull it out, she made a pained noise and her entire face went pale. He shoved against it experimentally, but he knew he wouldn't be able to move it: it was huge, and he was not a strong person. He searched the cave, and lugged a moderately-sized rock over to where she was at. Even that small amount of physical effort made him sweat, and as he shoved it as close to the ogre as possible, he wondered how on Azeroth he was going to move it. Mae caught on to what he was doing, and lunging to the side, grabbed her staff. She cried out as she did so, and Kalibose knelt down to take the staff from her.

"Use it to lift, and I'll drag my foot out." Her voice was even more strained than before, and for the first time, Kalibose felt guilty that she might be seriously injured, and that he had caused it. He wedged the staff in between the ogre and the rock, and waited until he caught the monk's eye.

"Ready?"

She nodded, and he shoved down with all his might. _Fuck_ this ogre was heavy. He was barely moving it at all, and he was leaning his entire weight on it. Mae was pushing herself backward, tears running freely down her face now, and when he relaxed his grip for a moment to catch his breath, she cried out in pain.

"Sorry," he grunted as he tried to set all his weight on the staff again. "One more time, and go!"

He shoved down again, jumping on it as hard as he could, and Mae screamed through her teeth as she yanked her leg free. Her staff splintered, and Kalibose stumbled, trying not to fall on the monk. He landed gracelessly on his backside right beside her. She had her eyes squeezed shut and was starting to hyperventilate in pain. With some trepidation, he moved to her injured ankle to inspect it. To his relief, instead of being horribly mangled, it was swollen and twisted, but looked mostly intact. Even with his limited knowledge of healing, they still might make it out of here alive. He spoke to her to distract her as he started ripping some rags into long strips.

"Did you take out all these ogres yourself?"

"Yeah, it was great." In spite of her pain, she managed a quick grin. "Except for the two that got caught in the explosion. One of them fell on me, and then I was stuck. Did you get the crystal, or did it just explode?"

"I got it." Kalibose looked at the bandages, and back at her ankle. He rubbed his hand across his face before he spoke again.

"Okay, I can help set this, and we can wrap it up, but we're going to have to get you into town to heal it. I can't heal worth shit." He glanced up at her hopefully. "Unless you can? Don't monks have some sort of healing ability?"

Mae grimaced as she caught a glimpse of her swollen ankle. She turned her head and held her hands over her mouth. "Haven't learned it yet. I went the fighting route first."

"Of course," he muttered under his breath. The monk whimpered through her hands as he felt along her ankle. He only had the most rudimentary knowledge of binding wounds, and he felt horribly under prepared to take care of someone else. He took her uninjured ankle and lined them up and compared them. Mae made pained noises as he moved her legs, and he snapped at her.

"Can you just try to calm down? I'm not very good at this, and you're distracting me." He located the break, and grasped her foot with both hands. He glanced up at her tear-streaked face, her silver hair dusty from the fight, her eyes scrunched up in pain, and felt a thread of pity for her. She had probably never broken a bone before, and he was being nasty about it. He looked away from her face and spoke to the ground.

"When I set this, it's going to hurt a lot. Find something to bite down on: if you scream too loud, we'll be found, and then we won't need to find you a healer for your ankle."

He waited until she had located a broken piece of her staff and held it in her mouth. With one hard yank, he pulled her foot back into place. Her entire body flexed, and she screamed into the wood, but she held her leg still and the sound was muffled. He took two different pieces of her shattered staff, and bracing her foot, wrapped the strips of cloth tightly around it. He pulled them as tight as he could, ignored her gasps of pain. There would be a fair amount of travel before they could reach a healer, and she would need it as braced as possible. It's not as if he could carry her out of here. When he had bound her ankle as much as he could, he leaned back on his heels. His staff was secure at his back, and the crystal trapped on top. They only had to get themselves bodily away and make a break for the scrubby trees that lined the mountains in between the swamp and the Southern Barrens.

The sounds of fighting outside were just as loud as before, and possibly worse. It wouldn't be possible to sneak out of the cave with the monk injured: they'd have to figure out another way. Kalibose shoved his damp hair out of his face and realized his hands were shaking. They were running out of time: the mana potion would boost him for a little while, but it would quickly run out, and he had already pushed himself to his very limits today. He heard a sniffle and a whimper from the monk sitting beside him, and his mouth twisted as he looked down at her. She had her hands together in a praying position, her eyes were squeezed shut, and she was muttering under her breath. She seemed to be trying to get her pain under control, and as much as he felt a sharp annoyance at having to be in charge of someone else, when taking care of his own needs was tedious enough, more than that he felt a pang of guilt. He had used her today. Had used her with every intention of discarding her at the roadside afterward with no second thought. She was nothing more than a means to an end, and he was consistently disturbed by his reactions to her. Everything would be easier once she was gone.

But through his actions, she was injured, and he owed it to her to see her to a safe location and on her way, if nothing else.

Nothing else at all.

He squatted down in front of her and got her attention. "Alright, here is how it is going to go. We are at the back edge of the ogre compound, and right beyond that is trees and the road to the Southern Barrens."

She sniffed loudly, and nodded. He resisted the urge to tell her to stop crying. He took a deep breathe, and continued.

"I should have enough mana to _blink_ us twice: once behind the cave, and once more to the road. But you are going to have to walk to the back of the cave: I can't carry you."

Her face visibly paled at the suggestion that she walk, and he snapped at her.

"Look if you want a fancy rescue, call a paladin. For now you have me. Now let's get going before we are caught. Up on your feet, and as quietly as possible."

He pulled her to standing, and she cried out before stuffing her entire fist in her mouth to muffle it. He got under her shoulder, and together, they slowly made their way to the back of the cave. Every step was halting, and when they made it to the very back of the cave, Mae leaned against the rocky wall and tried to cry as quietly as possible. Kalibose released her so he could gather his energy and fix the jump in his mind. His annoyance was quickly fading into pity, and he whispered to her as he mentally prepared himself.

"I'm sorry for this. When we are clear, I can ice your ankle, and it will help some."

She nodded at him, and he put his arm around her waist before they moved. This _blink_ was very precise, and he let out a breath as he saw that he had nailed it. They were inches outside of the cave, and right on the other side of the wall was the road. Mae whimpered when they landed, and without taking time to relax, he _nudged_ them forward again, further, until they were on the other side of the road.

That was almost everything he had left, and he didn't so much let go of the monk as drop her and collapse down to his knees, trying to catch his breath. Mae also went down to her knees, and stood there a moment, wavering in place. Kalibose forced himself to stand up and survey the area. There were no ogres or dragonkin in sight, and they were partially concealed by bushes and skinny trees. They were safe for the moment. He glanced down at Mae, who had gone right past pale and was positively green in the face.

"I think I'm going to be sick," she whispered, and without preamble vomited into the grass in front of her. Kalibose took several steps back, and shaking his head, slumped down into the grass far enough away that he could ignore her for the moment. That was absolutely everything he had left inside of him: the mana potion was gone, and his hands wouldn't stop shaking. He dropped his head into his hands and tried to gather his thoughts. His entire body was screaming at him in mana deprivation, and it was hard to concentrate. As he sat shivering on the ground, he felt the weight of his staff lean into his back and heard the dim thrum of the crystal on top. In one movement, he sat up straight, and grabbed his staff out of its holder and held it in front of him. This couldn't be right at all. There was _no reason_ for him to be out of mana right now, when he had a near-infinite source right in his hands. He held one hand over the crystal, and after a moment of absolutely nothing, he felt mana sluggishly start to flow into his body from the crystal. The tattoos on his knuckles glowed as the energy swept through him, and he exhaled, no longer feeling that horrible weakness that reminded him that his power also had power over him. He frowned as he stared at the crystal glowing in front of him. He couldn't shake the feeling that the Eye of Argus had not given him power because he commanded it to, but because it decided that it would of its own accord.

Mae had drug herself away from where she had been sick, and was wiping her face with a handkerchief. He stepped over to her, avoiding the sodden grass, and crouched down beside her ankle. What little he could see of her skin around the bandages was just as swollen and red as before. Thankful that he had his mana back, he conjured a light dusting of frost to coat the outside of it. She winced as the cold hit her, then sighed as it dug itself deep into her flesh. He was sure it didn't take that much pain away, but at this point, anything was better.

"This wasn't how I imagined my first mission going." Mae's voice was barely a whisper. She held the handkerchief tightly in both hands. Her entire posture seemed deflated from the confident monk that walked into the ogre camp and beckoned two monsters to fight her. Kalibose opened his mouth to say something about having to toughen up for further missions, then shut it again. There was no point in being rude: they'd gotten the crystal, they'd made it out alive. It was a fairly positive morning, in his book.

"I don't think you did too bad." She glanced up at him, disbelief peppering her misery.

"In fact, I'd say you did rather well at what I needed your help with, and that's enough for your trial, right?"

To his chagrin his weak attempts to cheer her up produced the opposite affect. Her silver eyes welled up with tears and she shook her head.

"I don't think it was. And either way, you were the one that had to rescue me!"

She rubbed her eyes with her knuckles and tried to stop her crying. Kalibose noted that the wrappings on her hands were coming loose. When she dropped her hands back down in her lap, he saw a blossoming bruise on her cheekbone and a smudge of red at her mouth. She'd taken a few hits during the fight. The tiny part inside of him that felt uncomfortable with guilt grew a little. The monk took a shaky breath.

"I'm sorry for sitting here crying like a baby." She sniffed again, then seemed to come to a decision, because she sat up straighter and actually looked him in the eye.

"I appreciate you letting me help, but I think it is clear to me now that I am not ready for my final trials at all, and I just want to go back home." She let out a sigh again as she looked at her bandaged foot. "As soon as I can walk again."

Kalibose stood and tried to survey the area through the scrubby swampland around them. They were fairly close to the pass that led through the mountains surrounding the swamp into the flat plains of the Southern Barrens. He nodded to himself, formulating a plan. He knelt down and put a hand on the monk's knee.

"We aren't far from the military base over the mountains. They will have healers there that can fix your ankle. I have been able to leech energy out of the crystal, and as long as we break in between jumps, I should be able to _blink_ us most of the way there. With any luck, you won't have to walk anymore."

Mae smiled wanly at him and he stood, feeling a little _too_ good about himself for cheering her up. He busied himself helping her up to standing and looped an arm around her waist. She leaned against him, barely coming up to his shoulder, but at least she wasn't crying anymore. He avoided her face as he visualized the landscape around them and thought through the first jump.

"Whether you believe it or not, you did help me out back there, and I will certainly see you safely on a flight back home, if that's where you want to go."

Mae squeezed her arm around him in a one-sided hug, and he choked in surprise, then he had to begin all over again preparing for the jump. He scolded himself as he steadied them to _blink_ forward.

_Can't get too attached. She's leaving as soon as I can get her on a gryphon away from here._ He caught a glimpse of her dusty silver ponytail as she ducked when they slipped through space to the first location.

_Besides, she'd have nothing to do with you if she knew the things you did without a second thought._ Feeling quite sober, he was able to concentrate clearly on getting them to their destination.


	5. Withdrawal

**Author's Notes: Okay so I have started a new job which has taken a lot of my writing time, but I think I've finally got a balance going here. Little by little, every day. Now if I can stop getting distracted by random little plot bunnies for other characters...**

**Review Replies: Nashiro: Kalibose is so bad at not getting attached. What a barnacle he is. **

**Feff: I suggest you prepare yourself for the next few before chapters then: they are not nice to Kalibose. (also he totally needs to be punched, but not like that. by Mae. after he says something stupid) I have a feeling Mae makes a very good magnet. **

**R. Moonstalker: he is a very grumpy Kalibose :)**

**Den of Meade: Sorry, Outcast just cannot be updated quickly. Scepter took almost two years to complete, and I had a lot pre-written. My goal is usually 1/week but that's not possible with this story. As soon as I can, though. Thank you for the compliment though!**

* * *

BEFORE

* * *

It couldn't have been more than a few hours since his cousins had drug him down the hallway of the druid training center, down the circular stairwell, and tossed him unceremoniously into the first cell in the row. He had started to regain consciousness by the change in the air currents on his face: stale air instead of the cool breeze off the trees in the Night Elf capital. He couldn't smell anything: his nose was too swollen, although the bleeding had stopped. It was likely broken. He had never broken a bone before, not even when he fell out of a tree when he was too young to feel magic's subtle pull, but his entire face throbbed with pain, and he could only see out of one of his eyes. It was only by the characteristic swirling pattern in the carpet of the hallway between training rooms that he even knew where he was. He did not try to fight them: even if he didn't already know he was outmatched, there was nothing he could do to hide what he had done. His grip on the arcane was tremulous and messy: anyone who could sense magic would be able to smell him a mile away.

His cousins hadn't spoken a word to him the entire trek, but after locking the door, they stood outside a moment and deliberated who to contact first. Kalibose stayed where he was in a pile on the floor and listened to them discussing him as if he were a piece of trash to be delivered to the lowest bidder. Jorus wanted to take him directly to Fandral Staghelm, a fate that he knew to be certain death. If Kalibose was in any sort of state to question motives or observe reactions, he might have seen the thread of fear and gleeful triumph in the tall druid's eyes. He might have remembered that Jorus's brother had been convicted himself a few years ago by the Druid Council; not for anything as shameful as his own crime, but a baser one: public intoxication and destruction of property. Catching the son of the Council Leader in outright treason? That was enough to get the heat off his family for good.

Kellen stayed stony and impassive during the discussion. Kalibose knew little more about the druid than a vague recollection of his name. He was pretty sure they were related, but he had no idea how. He had mostly seen him in the accompaniment of others louder and more outspoken than he, preferring instead to be the quiet back-up. Kellen might not be gung-ho to punish him, but he was certainly not his friend.

Valanor, always concerned with how things looked to the right people, was steadfast in his opinion: Kalibose would be brought before the entire Druid Council, tried, and convicted. He would go to Tenethor himself and insist an emergency session be held tonight. If Kalibose had been unobservant of Jorus's eagerness, there was no way he could miss the cold gleam of greed in his cousin's eyes. Valanor might have been asked by his father to keep watch over his wayward cousin, but he was going to use that information for his own advantage. Kalibose mused to himself, barely able to keep his thoughts in line, that he might be using him as a ploy to get his father ousted as Council Leader. Unconsciousness tried to pull him under again, and he shoved himself up with his hands, cringing at his pounding head and trying to keep himself from whimpering. If Valanor thought that Tenethor would go against the Council to protect his son, he had made a critical error. He'd ship him off to rehabilitation as fast as he could kick him out the door and probably hold a celebration party at his absence.

The trio of druids didn't take long to reach a decision. Valanor gave him another grin as he rested an elbow against the bars of the cage.

"Just sit tight, cousin," he said. Kalibose could barely lift his head to meet his eyes.

"Your dirty little secret is going to do me a great favor. We'll be back to get you shortly."

Kalibose doggedly held himself upright as he watched his captors laugh and congratulate themselves as they left. His eyes followed them down the hallway and out of sight, and only then did he allow himself to curl up on his side at the bottom of his cage, useless hot tears running down his face.

He had long since cried himself dry. There was always a moment, when you have cried out an entire lifetime of misery at once and you have nothing left, that the world is still and seems to be waiting. He was at that place now. He had not intended on crying. It was a weak, base reaction to the unfairness of life, but the tears came nonetheless, washing some of the blood off his face and leaving a damp spot on the earthen floor.

The cells beneath the druid training center were not used often: usually a person would be contained by a holding spell, or be brought to the Sentinels and incarcerated properly. This was strictly for their own self-preservation—here in this cell, the Druid Council made their own laws. Briefly, Kalibose was grateful that he could not smell anything. By the looks of the various stains on the floor, it would be horrendous.

The first hour after his cousins left, Kalibose lay curled up in a ball, head aching, full of self-pity, and thought this was the worst he had ever felt in his life. Now, hours later, he wished he were still in that place. It had started slow: an emptiness that dug a hole inside of him and grew like a cancer, until now his entire body was hollow and shaking. Before, when he had practiced the arcane, he had done so at a very beginning level, and his body had been able to fill in the energy that he had stolen to create his spells. Sometimes it took awhile, but it was enough. Perhaps it was the successful forging of the arcane rune, or maybe it was the premature breaking of it, but he had finally transcended the normal realm and reached into the unknown, the place where the arcane dwelt.

Magic, like everything else in every universe that existed, did not come free. Channeling the arcane created a void inside of you that had to be filled, and if you did not possess an external source of mana, it took from your very life source. What he was feeling now was the beginning of the other side of the arcane: the shakes of addiction. He had finally borrowed too much against himself, and as he lay on the ground, shivering and aching and in a terrible state of need, he cursed his weak body, he cursed his cousins, he cursed the heady rush that pushed him to study forbidden magic. He no longer cared that he had been discovered or what his punishment would be, his only thought was to get a hit of mana, just a little, just a _drop_, or for the withdrawal to take him completely so he could feel it no more.

He was so consumed with his agony that when someone came to retrieve him, he could only stare up at them in silence and plead with his eyes that they would take some of his pain away. The man before him was not one he recognized: a huge, burly creature with a shaggy beard of dark green and hair to match. The druid twisted his face at the sight of the youth on the ground, and growled at him to get to his feet. Kalibose did not have the ability to comply, and the druid unlocked the door and grabbed a handful of the back of his dirty robe, and yanked him upright. Kalibose scrabbled at the bars of the cell, trying to keep himself standing, feeling bile in the back of his throat. The druid called down the hallway, and another man joined him. Each of them took one of his arms, and forced him to march. With every stumbling step, Kalibose's head ached, and the withdrawal was so bad he felt like he wasn't even attached to his body anymore, just floating above the beaten automaton that was being pulled into the hallway that led to the main council room. A muted roar of conversation had been gathering as they went, and as the druid pushed open the door to the room that contained Kalibose's future, a wall of blinding light and painful noise hit him with a force strong enough to nearly knock him over.

* * *

NOW

* * *

The final _blink_ was the hardest: he pushed it further, trying to get as close to the Alliance military base as possible. He hit the ground hard, but at least he eased Mae into a seated position instead of dropping her like before. He sat down as well, unable to fight his rubbery legs and feeling sweat run down his back. His ability to conserve mana was _terrible_ today.

He reached back for his staff, and after a frustrating pause, which he was becoming more and more sure was intentional, felt magic slowly return to him. He rose to his feet, dusting his hands off. Fort Triumph was just inside the edge of the Barrens, a sandy grassland that up until recently, had been Horde-controlled. It was early spring and while the ground might have been damp and compact that morning, it was already dry and clinging to the bottom of his robes and boots. Kalibose eyed the watchtower warily. The Alliance hold on this region was very new, and he had expected to be confronted with soldiers as soon as they landed. Surely they were in range of the guards already? He half-turned his head to speak to the monk, keeping the base in his peripherals.

"Sit here, I'll go fetch someone to get you."

"I'm sitting," came the dry response. After the shock of breaking a bone and their harrowing escape from the ogre encampment had worn off, Mae had tried to take the multiple _blinks_ to safety in stride. She had a regained a bit of her sense of humor, although her voice was still tight and strained, and she held as still as possible. It bothered Kalibose, as he pulled his cloak about him, that he cared so much that her voice should return to normal. Very soon, within the hour if he was lucky, she would be on a gryphon home, and he would be absorbed in studying his new acquisition and reveling in his solitude.

He had only taken a few steps toward the base when he felt a prickling at the back of his neck, followed by a high-pitched shout.

"Halt!"

A tiny figure, no larger than a gnome or a small human was standing right outside the gates. Kalibose paused and felt another tickle at the base of his neck, like a feather. He swiped a hand across his neck in irritation, then held his hands out in front of him as he started toward the base.

"I'm not an enemy. I just need help for my travel companion."

The priest looked visibly shaken, and backed up several steps as he advanced. Kalibose resisted the urge to roll his eyes and tried instead to look non-threatening. It occurred to him, as he crossed the final distance to the gates, that the priest was looking far too distraught for being faced with only a single person, and not even a soldier, at that. The tickling at the back of his neck grew stronger and when he was only a few yards away, he saw that the priest was shaking, and making hand movements as if she were casting, but absolutely nothing was happening. He stopped, leaning his head to the side and watching her for a moment.

"What are you doing?"

The priest, finally seeing that he was not a threat, dropped her hands in exasperation.

"How in the Light are you doing that?"

Kalibose raised an eyebrow at her. "I'm not doing anything."

She put her hands on her hips and gave him a scowl. "I've been casting an arcane block that should have knocked you off your feet. And you never even flinched!"

Kalibose could only stare at her a moment, then took his staff in hand in front of him. He set his feet and steadied himself.

"Okay, do it again, as hard as you can."

He watched her this time, and she did indeed cast a powerful spell that blocked the use of magic, with a side effect of knocking the target down. He saw the spark between her hands, and felt the magic move between them.

But nothing happened.

The prickling feeling at his collar moved to a sort of pressure, but it was so ineffective that if he wasn't actively looking for it, he wouldn't have even noticed. The priest dropped her arms and breathed out, looking as if she had just ran a sprint. Kalibose looked at his staff in wonder. He hadn't felt _anything._ The crystal had protected him from it without him even asking it to. A grin broke across his face. Yes, even with the setbacks, this day had been spectacular. And now to tie up the loose ends.

He approached the priest, who was rubbing her arms and looking at him warily. Just as he reached her, the gate opened, and a small contingent of soldiers appeared. They also looked nervous, and held their weapons at ready before them. Kalibose toyed with the thought, just for a moment, that he could likely take out every soldier right in front of him, and possibly not even make a dent in his new-found power. There was no need for that today though. He held his hands out palms first, to show that he was peaceful.

"Greetings, soldiers of the Alliance. I require your assistance." He gestured back behind him without taking his eyes off of them. "My travel companion has been injured and needs a healer."

The soldier in the lead wrinkled his nose as he approached him. His face was not friendly. "State your name and business."

Kalibose was feeling too invincible to have his good mood taken away. He bowed before the contingent of soldiers. "I am the mage Kalibose Woodstalker, and that is the monk Mae Songwhisper. We are merely passing through."

The lieutenant nodded and waved his hand at the priest. She scurried past him to where the monk was seated on the ground, two of the soldiers in her wake. Kalibose felt some relief flood his chest. He had fulfilled his bargain, and he was minutes from freedom. The soldiers carried Mae inside the gates of the base, and he caught a glimpse of her pale face as she left his sight. He followed the soldiers inside, and tried not to cringe as the doors were bolted shut behind them.

Even though the base was not a small one, and there was plenty of room to breathe, Kalibose had never fully gotten over the claustrophobia he had developed after his banishment. Being locked in a jail cell, then transported in a very tiny carriage to the borders of Ashenvale while in the throes of his first mana withdrawal had changed something inherent within him. Kalibose took a moment to look up and focus on the bright blue sky above the Southern Barrens. The base was mostly open air, at least, and he reminded himself that he could always see the sky, if he felt too trapped. More than the structure of the base, it was the general atmosphere that was making him uneasy. The contingent that had escorted them into the base were not the only soldiers on duty. There were guards everywhere: dwarves with muskets, soldiers with swords and axes, and interspersed with them were spellcasters and priests. As he watched, cannons and ballistae were being prepped, and officers were shouting out orders. He caught the arm of a young-looking soldier scurrying past him with his arms full of medical supplies.

"What is going on here?"

The private stopped and gave him an impatient look. Kalibose could see the dust and exhaustion covering the young man's face as he glanced around nervously before answering.

"Where have you been? We've been on high alert for days. Our scouts stopped coming back yesterday, after scattered reports of Horde on the move. We expect to be attacked at any time."

Kalibose frowned after the soldier as he let him continue on his way. This was not a promising development. As soon as possible he would see the monk off on a gryphon and leave himself.

He scouted around the bustle of the base until he found a place behind the medical supply tent that was relatively secluded. He took a seat on an empty crate, feeling some of the weariness of the past few days. It had been a little touch and go, but now it was time to examine his prize. The runed staff seemed to hum with power as he brought it to the front. The Eye of Argus continued to pulse a muted purple glow, much like a heartbeat. Although he had felt distinctively the exact moment when it had caved into his control in the cave, he still felt the eerie feeling that he was not the master of the Eye. Not truly.

Steadying himself, he held his hand out over the crystal and minutely dropped the magical hold he had wrapped around it. Immediately the crystal blazed forth angrily, sentiently, and at _full power_. Kalibose leapt forward and flung himself bodily on top of the staff, shoving the binding back onto the amplifier. He clasped it back with shaking hands. Even though he had barely lifted the edge of the runed metal casing, somehow the Eye of Argus had made it nearly halfway out of before he managed to slam it shut again. Kalibose didn't so much sit back down on the crate as he let his legs collapse and his body fall into place.

He hadn't tamed the crystal at all. It was just temporarily bound to his staff because he had made an exceptionally strong binding for it. His suspicion earlier, that the crystal had only replenished his mana because it chose to, and not because he bid it? Absolutely correct. Which meant he had less control over his mana than ever, and a literal ticking time bomb as his source of energy. Surely it would be only a matter of time before the Eye of Argus was tired of giving in to his demands and try to free itself.

Kalibose took in a shaky breath, feeling all the confidence and good mood from earlier seep out of him. This was not good. This was not good at ALL. He was useless this way—worse than useless, because it was unpredictable. He knew for a fact that the Eye would supply him with mana and even protection at its own whim, but he had literally no way to control it.

Kalibose stood, eyeing his staff warily. It had returned to its normal muted purple glow, seemingly well-behaved for now. He took off from the medical supply tent with purpose in his step. He needed to return to Eldre'thalas. He had done an excessive amount of research before seeking out the crystal, but it was obvious he had missed something crucial.

Consumed in his own thoughts, when he felt a hand on his arm his first instinct was to blow it off with an arcane blast. It was only a brief glimpse of silver eyes in a heart-shaped face that stayed his twitching fingers. The monk must have seen the intense look on his face because she held up both of her hands in a peaceful gesture.

"Don't worry, it's only me." She smiled at him, but for once he wasn't blown away by its light.

Kalibose was struck by a slow-growing sense of horror as he realized that he _could not instinctively cast anymore_. The crystal's power was too volatile, and he had long ago moved past spells that could be maintained without a power source.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he muttered to himself as he scrubbed his hands over his eyes and up into the stringy mass of his blue hair. Without his magic he was completely helpless.

Mae seemed to sense his distress because some of the sunshine of her face began to dim.

"Is something wrong, Kalibose?"

"It's fine," he snapped back a little too quickly. Fortunately she did not press it.

"I just wanted to come tell you that my ankle is all fixed now, and I'm as good as new."

The guilt of causing her injury came trickling back to him unbidden, and his reply was more sincere than before. "I'm glad to hear that."

The monk fidgeted with the wrappings on her hands in front of her. "So if you are set then, I'll be heading back to Ashenvale now." Her expression dropped a little as spoke. "And somehow try to face Master Lau again after this mess."

For a moment Kalibose was caught. On one hand, the problem of the crystal was pressing into his back and filled him with urgency. He had to get that remedied, and soon. But just as quickly, his thoughts were filling up with Mae: the way her mouth turned down slightly in disappointment and the dust still in her hair, the moon in her eyes and the sunlight in her face. Kalibose shook himself all over determinedly. _No_. She was going back home, he was going back to his tiny room in the outcast mage settlement, things were as they were supposed to be. Mae took his silence as a dismissal, and held her hand out to him. Holding his back very stiff, he took it.

"Well thank you, Kalibose Woodstalker, for the adventure and for letting me tag along on your quest. I'm sorry you had to end up rescuing me at the end, but thank you for that as well."

She smiled at him as she shook his hand, and in spite of himself, he let himself bathe in it one final time before he walked away.

"Thank you for your help, Mae." He fumbled mentally for a moment, before settling on a simple goodbye. "Have a safe flight home."

He dropped her hand and turned abruptly away, not even looking where he was walking as he strode deeper into the military base. All around him was the muffled din of the base as it mustered ranks, the shouts of the officers and the mechanical groans as the ballistae were readied. It was all vague background noise as he forced his feet far away from the gryphon station, so that he couldn't even watch her take off and fly away. _The Eye,_ he reminded himself firmly. That was what was important right now.

The third time a soldier jostled his shoulder as he ran past, however, Kalibose stopped his introspection and actually took a good look around him. The base wasn't just prepping for a possible attack: they were lining up to defend _right now_. In a moment of absolute panic, he remembered he couldn't fight without casting, and he couldn't do magic at all right now. He was a wide open target for the Horde. He took off at a run for the gryphon base, his senses on high alert to the sounds of the first shots fired between the enemies. He caught up to the flight master just in time to see Mae having a tearful argument with the lieutenant.

"...is my only way home! What do you mean I can't have a gryphon out of here?"

The man's eyes kept flickering over to the massive gates being bolted and reinforced. Kalibose swallowed down his claustrophobia as the main exit was completely blocked.

"I'm sorry Miss, but we only have one more gryphon, and the only place its going is Honor's Stand with a request for reinforcements. The Horde is attacking right now, and we don't have time for civilians. You can either go with it, or stay here and buckle down for a fight."

"Get on the gryphon, Mae." Kalibose pushed in between the two of them and tried to pull the monk to the flight master, who was prepping a large golden gryphon. Mae yanked her hand out of his and refused to be moved.

"I don't know how to get home from Honor's Stand. It's just a tiny military base, where am I going to go from there?"

Kalibose could tell from the agitated movements of the lieutenant that they only had a few minutes before he sent the gryphon off without her. He tried to grab Mae's hand again.

"Come on, I'm going too. I'm not staying here to fight against the Horde. We'll figure it out afterward."

Mae finally relented, and let him pull her over to the flight master. The human gave them a look as he boosted Mae up. "Both of you?"

"Yes, now let's leave and get your message delivered."

Kalibose didn't give him a chance to argue, but hoisted himself up on the gryphon behind the other night elf. Thankfully it was a very large bird, and it didn't seem to fuss with having two passengers. The flight master did a final check on the gryphon, tugging on the straps of the saddle and making sure the scroll was securely fastened. Kalibose wrapped one arm around Mae's waist, and held onto the reins with the other hand as the gryphon lifted up into the air.


	6. Verdict

**Author's Notes: It looks like three weeks is about my turn around rate now-not too terrible, but I hope its not too long either. **

**Review Replies: Den of Meade: I did not actually take offense at your request for more, I wish I could update more quickly. But thank you for your compliments, and you should think about the consequences of what the crystal actually is.**

**Feff: Hee hee Kalibose and his staff. Glad someone else has the same dirty mind as me :D**

**Nashiro: He most certainly is. And there will be some reciprocation from Mae soon as well. **

**A shout-out should go to both IRL Elforen and Ihsan for their help on this chapter with naming and legalities.**

* * *

**BEFORE**

* * *

"-demand that we take the traitor to Archdruid Staghelm himself. This is not just a child playing with things he doesn't understand: this is a matter of security to the state."

The room he had been brought to was lit up like a beacon for obviously being in the middle of the night, and for a bit Kalibose could only hear voices without seeing the faces they belonged to. A raucous din hit his ears first: incensed yelling, the hushed whispers of those trying to be discreet, and the loud overt talking of those who couldn't be bothered. It sounded like every council member, as well as every druid on the continent, was in attendance. With more than a hint of the bitterness that would soon be his only friend, he thought he might be flattered if they were here for him, and not to see the possibility of his father pulled down from his leadership status.

Slowly his eyes adjusted to the light. Through the intense pounding in his head and the disassociation he felt in his body, he tuned out the loudest shouting and glanced around the room.

When the High Druid Council met to discuss rules, argue about budgets, and hammer out such mundane details as training camps and guardians over the Barrow Dens, they gathered in the highest room of the Cenarian Enclave. It was an open air structure, so close to the tree tops and wildlife that the council felt in touch with Cenarius Himself. The room itself seemed to foster peace and understanding amidst the gathered members, and kept them all on task to remember their vows to Cenarius, Ysera, and Archdruid Staghelm. This was not that room.

The Tribunal Chamber had been built amphitheatre-style in the very back of the Cenarian Enclave. A small earthen pit was the main focus of the room-that's where the accused sat, bare to all eyes in the dome. The first row of high-backed chairs that formed a circle around the pit were reserved for the council members. Stretching back at an angle were rows and rows of benches. This was the spectator's area. Out of courtesy, the front row was usually reserved for the family of the accused. Kalibose didn't have to look up to know that most of this family would be occupying the member seats. Trying to tune out all but the most prominent voices, Kalibose kept his eyes on the floor and tried not to shiver too noticeably.

"Ugh, you can smell the stench of arcane from here. If not for the overwhelming evidence, that would be all you need."

That was Valanor's father, who all the Woodstalker children called Uncle Galenoth. Even through everything else, it pained Kalibose to hear the disgust in his voice. Galenoth had obviously ceased with all pleasant familiarity and was making his bid for Council Leader tonight.

"The little brat has always been off—skulking around in shadows and cavorting with questionable people. You had always claimed he was studying for the priesthood Tenethor, but it's obvious that was a lie."

Kalibose expected his father's scathing voice to answer the accusation of lying, but nothing came to counter the other man's statement. He risked a glance up at the first row of seats. There sat Tenethor Woodstalker, in the Council Leader chair. It was more ornate that the others surrounding it—more of a throne really. Kalibose could easily see how it would be a coveted position, even forgetting the obvious authority it granted. To sit in that chair would make one feel like a King among his subjects. Tenethor played the part of benevolent ruler well: even for an emergency meeting on a trial he was emotionally invested in, he wore splendid robes of green and gold, with a circlet of stag antlers on his brow. His snowy white hair was neat and hung loose down his back. The look seemed to be a reminder that while his son may be the transgressor, Tenethor was still in charge here. The man himself appeared to be completely unperturbed by the events unfolding around him. He was leaned forward with his elbows resting on the arms of this chair, his fingers steepled in front of this face in a gesture that Kalibose knew well. Tenethor's facade might be calm, but his mind was going at the speed of light.

Kalibose stared back down at his feet before he could accidentally catch the eye of his mother. He knew she would be there. Even though Kalibose felt not one ounce of remorse, and his only regret was that he had not been even more cautious while he practiced the arcane, he didn't think he could bear to see her disappointment. He didn't know if any of his siblings would be present. Terral was practically a council member himself, but his relationship with his older brothers was non-existent. He had no idea if he and Alfrick were away on a mission for the Cenarian Circle or not. He would have known instantly if Talrend were here; his estranged brother would have shouted the entire council down for his release, and broken him out of incarceration himself if they didn't listen. Kalibose felt his chest ache at the thought of his brother. Unlike the eldest Woodstalker brothers, Talrend had always acted the way a brother should; kind and protective, always ready to either pull him out of a scrape or give him a hard time, whichever the occasion called for. No matter what, he knew that Talrend would have his back.

His sister however—he and Lorel had grown apart since Talrend had left. He suspected it was because his parents had redoubled their efforts to mold her into the perfect daughter they thought she should be. She was always either away at training, or in her rooms with teachers on such subjects as diplomacy, history, decorum, and a host of other things that Kalibose fully intended to tease her about the next time he saw her.

All of a sudden it struck him that he might not see Lorel again for a long time. Depending on where his father shipped him off to, he could be out of Darnassus for years. He had been planning on escaping the rehab camp the first chance he got, but if he did, he certainly would not be welcome back in his father's house. How would he get his things back? How would he contact Lorel, or find where Talrend went?

The burden of how far he had gone in his pursuit of the arcane weighted him down and suddenly it was even harder to breathe than before. It was just a few spells. Just a little dabbling in magic, wasn't it? With the beginnings of a terrible withdrawal digging into him, it seemed too much to give up his entire life, as pitiful as it sometimes was, just to feel this miserable and alone.

Kalibose straightened up against the chair he was seated on, fighting against nausea and chills. He hyper focused on the proceeding going on around him just as the entire room fell to a hush. Galenoth's booming voice filled the Tribunal Chamber.

"Kalibose Woodstalker, son of Tenethor Woodstalker and Lunariel Moonweaver, you have been charged with practicing forbidden magic, knowingly casting spells that affect the cycle of nature, possession of contraband items, and possession of heretical manuscripts. All evidence suggests that you did this completely of your own free will, and in full control of your mental capacities. Do you deny any these charges?"

Kalibose stuttered, feeling far less sure of himself than he did when he walked in. "Well no, but-"

Galenoth continued on as if Kalibose had not even spoken.

"All of the charges brought before you today bring you dangerously close to high treason. You understand that this council will act accordingly?"

Kalibose nodded, unable to do anything else but swallow and grip the edges of his chair. Galenoth directed his attention to the general audience.

"The case that has been brought to our attention is a complicated one, as the accused is the youngest son of our esteemed Council Leader."

Galenoth's gaze leveled right on Tenethor. Even through Kalibose's growing sense of dread, he could see the gleam of greed in the man's eyes, much like his son's. This was a challenge and a warning.

"I trust that under these serious allegations, the Council Leader will make a just and fair decision."

Every eye turned to the night elf rising to his feet from the Council Leader's chair. Tenethor had not spoken a word the entire time that Kalibose was present: not to accuse, and not to defend. He felt so ill with worry he knew he was going to vomit: he swallowed it down desperately, waiting to see what his father would say. Every person in the room seemed to be holding their breath. His father had kept his eyes unfocused, but now he met Kalibose's gaze with a calm neutrality.

"I think the only honorable verdict in this case, is Banishment."

* * *

**NOW**

* * *

"I feel kind of bad, leaving the soldiers down there to fight while we flee."

Mae's voice was nearly lost in the wind that whipped around them.

"Don't."

Kalibose couldn't decide if closing his eyes or opening them was better to handle the swoops and dives of the gryphon as it navigated its way northwest. He finally settled for leaning his forehead against the back of the monk's head and staring at the back of her shirt.

"Fighting is their job. Soldiers are basically grunts anyway."

Mae twisted in front of him and he leaned back as much as he could. Inwardly, he was grateful for his discomfort with flying: it was easier to forget he was pressed up against someone and forced to hold tight to them if he wanted to avoid falling."

"That is rude, Kalibose—those soldiers are people, that give up their lives to protect others. You should have some respect for them."

He made a non-committal sound and went back to watching something stationary to avoid feeling ill. Out of his peripherals he caught a glimpse of the green expanse of the Alliance-controlled potion of the Barrens. The Overgrowth, as it was called in frightened whispers, had been a sort of failed experiment of an offshoot group of druids. The plants themselves gained sentience and grew hostile, and the original caretakers were forced to flee after several of their number had been killed. Left to its own devices, the foliage grew out of control, spawning bigger and bigger monsters. If that wasn't bad enough, the displaced Tauren survivors of Camp Tauraho, their numbers decimated and out for vengeance, secluded themselves within the leafy boundaries. Kalibose couldn't help but sneak a glance at the lush green foliage below. They were close enough to the ground that with a start, he realized he could see movement down there, and in such an exaggerated fashion that it could only come from a creature that was very large. He quickly drug his eyes back up and stared at the back of the gryphon's head as they approached their destination.

Far closer to the Overgrowth than Kalibose liked, clung the Alliance military base of Honor's Stand. It was, as Mae had pointed out, a tiny thing-not even a proper inn and not serviceable to civilians at all. It was the last Alliance foothold in this region until the land spread out into untamed wilderness and Horde Territory. It occurred to Kalibose, as the gryphon banked sharply and wheeled in to land, that if they couldn't catch a flight here, it would be very difficult to find another one.

There was a swarm of soldiers ready to meet them when they landed. They looked even more harried than the ones at For Triumph, and a few of them gave him an askance glance as they took the scroll from the gryphon and shooed them away from the flight station.

Kalibose eyed the sky moodily as he and Mae made their way into the base. Clouds were building up in the last afternoon sky like boiling soup, and lent a patchwork overcast to the ground. This was not a good development at all. Mae had to get back home, and he had to get to the underground catacombs of Eldre'thalas, and here they were in this rural military outpost for who knows how long. He touched his staff with his consciousness, just to reassure himself that it was not going to strike him down at the most opportune time. It thrummed with power monotonously where it was clipped to his back, and didn't even acknowledge his mental nudge. Kalibose drew his eyebrows together into a moody scowl. That did not ease his mind at all.

Meanwhile, there was the problem of how to get out of here. Honor's Stand was in a precarious position, with the Overgrowth to the south and east, a great chasm left by The Destroyer running along the northern edge, and only a slim path to Stonetalon Mountain to their west. The base relied on smuggled supplies and he doubted that a gryphon or even a mount could be spared for a couple of citizens. Although he didn't want to admit it to the monk, he was just barely past his trials himself, and he hadn't made learning portals a priority. First the power, then the mundane.

He had been stalking furiously into the thick of camp, his head down and lost in thought, and all of a sudden he realized he was alone. He turned a full circle, cursing under his breath. She was nowhere in sight. Already stressed out from the situation, he directed his ire at her as he set off to look for her.

"What a _child_, that she just disappears while I'm trying to figure out how to the fuck to get out of here..."

His anger was burning hot inside of him as he stomped his way past the shoddy barracks, and several soldiers noticeable moved out of his way.

"I am not a babysitter, if she can't just stay put when we are trying to leave then I will stop trying to find a way to leave..."

There she was finally, talking quietly to the man at the mess tent. As he watched she bestowed one of her sunshine-filled smiles on him as she took a sack of food and two cups of coffee, and Kalibose felt something like a knot in the center of his chest. When she joined him moments later, most of the vitriol had seeped out of him.

"Where the hell have you been?" His question didn't have much malice behind it, but she surprised him by pinning him in place with a hard look.

"I haven't eaten since this morning, and I'm hungry, so I assumed you are too. Do you want it or not?"

She held out a cup, and Kalibose took it with a chastised nod. For some reason it was a relief to see her show aggravation at his attitude. He tried, without success, to understand that revelation as they hunted for a place to sit away from the main thoroughfare of the camp. They finally found a log situated under a tree near the fence. It was obvious that it was a popular spot by the bare earth that was worn down in front of it, and the small amount of papers and detritus that had been stuffed between it and the tree.

"So," Mae began as she sat at one end of the log, and he on the other, "we aren't going to get a ride out of here, are we."

Kalibose watched as soldiers and supplies were being assembled and gryphons were being prepped for departure. He took a sip of coffee, relishing the way it burned the dryness out of the back of his throat.

"Not likely."

She nodded and dug around in the sack in her lap. She handed him a paper-wrapped sandwich. He held it in his hands, watching as she unwrapped hers and took a bite. She had a contemplative, far off look on her face, and although he had only been around her a couple days, it seemed out of place.

"Stonetalon is between here and Ashenvale, correct?"

Kalibose had an unexpected, intense vision; _he was running, and fear was pumping through his veins more intense than any drug. A high-pitched screech rang through his ears from behind him, like the sound of a great bird of prey. But as he felt talons the size of dinner knives dig into his shoulders, he knew it was no bird..._

He shook himself visibly. Mae was eating thoughtfully, still waiting for his answer. She seemed to have missed his momentary lapse into memory. Even though his hands felt weak, he busied them opening his own sandwich.

"Yes it is."

"Have you been there?"

He clamped down on the flashback that threatened to invade his senses.

"Yes, once. It was unpleasant."

She nodded again, her mouth turning slightly down at his opinion. They finished their meal in silence. Kalibose watched the rest of the reinforcements take off to fly to Fort Triumph. There were no gryphons left after that, and he felt his stomach sink. Beside him, Mae carefully folded her trash up into a square to discard.

"Do you think I could barter kitchen work for a replacement staff? I'm sure they have some training ones around at least that they don't need."

For some reason, the question got under his skin.

"I hardly think that's what you need to be worrying about right now. Getting out of here should be your priority."

As if in response, the crystal on top of his staff hummed behind him.

"It is my priority." Unlike before, she didn't rise to his irritated tone. "But if I'm going to travel to Ashenvale on foot, then I will need some sort of protection."

For a moment he could only gape at her.

"That," he sputtered, "is a monumentally stupid idea."

Mae put her hands on her knees and pushed herself to standing with a bounce.

"I think its the next logical step. I can't borrow a mount, so I'm going to have to hoof it. I'm sure I could find a map somewhere in the base. Besides, you obviously made it through just fine."

"I had no choice!" Flashbacks of running, hiding, out of his mind with hunger and withdrawal were creeping into his vision again, and he broke out into a cold sweat. "There was no where else for me to go! I was banished, not taking a leisurely stroll!"

He froze in disbelief at the words that had just come out of his mouth. Beside him, Mae was pulling back from him in horror, and to make things worse, her eyes showed her sudden distrust in him. He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes and groaned. He had truly fucked up now.

"You were...banished?" Her question was quiet, but it spoke volumes: she was sitting next to the highest level of criminal, and she was afraid.

There was no point in hiding it from her now. He pushed his hair back from his forehead, and very carefully, he let the glamour drop. A tiny flash of light light up her face at the same time that Mae gasped. He quickly put it back into place, making sure the Mark was securely hidden from view. He tried not to look at her face as he spoke quietly into his hands in his lap.

"My family found out about my magic use. They drug me before the High Council, and my f- the Council Leader Marked me as an outcast. If I so much as step foot into night elf territory, I will be killed on sight."

Even as he shared his most painful secret, the admittance that it was his own father who had condemned him to exile was too much to voice out loud. He dug his fingernails into his palm and desperately tried to pull the conversation back together.

"That is why I cannot simply port you to Astranaar, even if I could make a portal right now."

"Kalibose." He made a mistake, and looked up at her words. Her features had softened and it was almost painful to see. _That pity is for you._

He stood abruptly. "What's done is done, now we have to figure out today. I don't think you should travel through Stonetalon by yourself, but I won't stop you."

"Kalibose." She repeated his name, louder, and he did not let himself look at her face again. Stuffing his hands into his sleeves, he turned to enter the camp proper.

"I mean, if you want to go drown in flash floods or get eaten by harpies, I guess its your business-"

"Kalibose, stop!" She grabbed his arm, and against his better judgment, he turned his head. Her face was confused, but also full of pity still, and it did nothing to make him feel better.

"Kalibose, magic is not illegal now."

That was not what he expected her to say at all.

"What?"

"I said magic is not illegal now. There are mages allowed throughout the land, even in the capital city! If that was your only crime, you should be able to have the Mark removed."

The hope dawning on her face was worse than any pity had been.

"Mae-"

But she was lost in her own plans. "I'm sure you could contact someone, or write a letter. I know there have been instances where outcasts were allowed to return to their homeland-"

"_Mae."_

It was her turn to stop and look at him. He shook his head, feeling any sliver of hope that had begun in his chest tear loose as he did.

"The banishment was not just for the crime of using the arcane. It was because my father never wanted to see me again. I can't have it removed."

He took a shaky breath. "I appreciate you wanting to help, but there is no salvation for me. It's best that you just forget this entire situation, and focus on getting home. I'll find my own way."

Clenching his hands into fists under the shadows of his sleeves, he turned and walked away.


	7. Marked

**Author's Notes: Three weeks, almost to the day! At least I'm consistent :D.**

**Replies: Nashiro: Usually I can interpret your comments but this time even I'm kind of stumped ha ha.**

**Ihsan: I've already replied to this but Cataclysm is canon for Kalibose and Mae, but Zara and Elf kind of sat it out. **

* * *

**_BEFORE_**

For several interminable minutes there was nothing but stunned silence in the Tribunal Chamber. A hesitant voice, one belonging to a more liberal council member spoke.

"Are you sure that is the best course, Tenethor?"

Anything else he would have said was lost to Kalibose because his stomach took that moment to heave and he vomited helplessly on his shoes. He panted, trying to catch his breath, barely able to catch snippets of the arguments around him.

_Banished?_

"-he's just a boy Tenethor, he'll die out there in the wilderness-"

"-a fine decision if you ask me, we can't go soft on these miscreants or who knows where we'll be-"

"-he is so young, to have this ruin his entire life-"

"-this is just throwing away a problem, instead of dealing with it properly. I still say he should be brought before the Archdruid-"

"Silence."

Tenethor Woodstalker's voice cut through the chatter. He stood before his chair as if made from stone, cold and impassive. Kalibose's stomach heaved again and he desperately tried to swallow it down.

"I have made my final decision. If any are opposed, then we will vote properly, without debate."

Kalibose was shaking uncontrollably. He had held back the worst of the withdrawal symptoms before the verdict and now it was converging on him at once. He barely registered as the council took a vote, and approved Tenethor's decision with a two-third's majority. Some of the council members looked uncomfortable as they put their hands up, but obviously not uncomfortable enough to go against their leader.

Intermittently through the hushed discussions was the sound of someone crying. Kalibose sat up straighter, fighting against the withdrawal that was causing him to lose control of his body. _ That sounded like his mother._ He twisted his head in both directions and finally spotted the rest of his family. They were seated directly behind him, so that he had to strain until he almost knocked his chair over. Lunariel's face was covered by a lace shawl, but Kalibose could just barely see her shoulders shaking. He spotted Terral sitting beside her, and the look of disgust on his face was nothing he didn't expect. But it was Lorel, seated on the other side of his mother, that crushed what little spirit he had left. His petite older sister, with her obscenely long white hair braided ornately behind her and wearing a green robe similar to their father's had such a terrible look of anger and horror on her face that he immediately turned his head back around and stared at the sodden earth in front of him. He had not realized until that moment how much he was counting on support from her, and now he could see clearly just how much she hated him.

Banishment. It was a punishment that he had only read about in books. Even executions for high treason were done in the public eye. He had turned old enough to attend one a year ago, and did so out of morbid curiosity. The man, a druid, had been corrupted in the Dream and attempts to cure him had failed. During that time he had rampaged, killing men, women, children, animals, anything he came in contact with. The things that stood out to Kalibose of the affair might have been less consequential to others-the grim look on Archdruid Staghelm's face, the gleam of the Sentinel's glaive in the moonlight, the hushed chanting that gradually rose in intensity until it filled the grove with unrestrained fury. It was then that Kalibose was starkly reminded of his roots: the Kal'dorei were a proud race of fierce warriors and not just tenders of nature or this political nonsense that he was mostly inundated with. The silence that fell over the crowd as the glaive sliced through the man's neck was ominous and satisfactory, like the bloodlust that had been common only decades before had been satiated for a little bit longer.

Execution was talked about, attended, tossed about in the open air like one's laundry. But Banishment was something only spoken about in hushed whispers among their elders. With recent new Alliances with other races of Azeroth, the punishment had fallen out of favor. All he knew was that if an outcast attempted to return to his homeland, he would be put to death.

Kalibose was ashamed to feel tears start to run down his face again. He didn't want to be banished. Even if his mother, father, and siblings wanted nothing to do with him, he didn't want to be rejected as a Kal'dorei forever. Above him, his father turned to address the room.

"Now that we have come to an agreement-"

"Wait!" Kalibose tried to stand and stumbled, holding on to the arms of the chair. Tenethor looked at him, and for the first time showed a hint of emotion. Sobs nearly choked Kalibose as he held one hand out to him, begging like a child. "Please, Father, don't do this."

Tenethor's face hardened back into stone.

"You are no son of mine."

He turned to the rest of the council as Kalibose felt what was left inside of him shatter into pieces on the floor.

"Clean him up. I will prepare the ritual myself."

The next stretch of time passed in a hazy sort of blur. Hands untied him and drug him to his feet. His robe was removed and his arms were shoved into the sleeves of another one. It was loose on him, and someone knotted a belt tightly around his waist. Someone swiped a wet rag across his face and his boots, then his hair was pulled into a tight tail at the base of his skull. Kalibose was numb to it all. Tears dripped down his eyes and off the end of his nose. He stood obediently, shivering violently, as things were moved around the arena in front of him and his chair was taken away. He kept his eyes on the ground, unseeing, wanting nothing more than to wake up from this nightmare that had descended on his life.

He was vaguely aware of the shouts and discourse in the Tribunal Chamber fading to a dull hum. Heavy footsteps stopped right in front of him, and listlessly, he lifted his chin. His father had removed his expensive robes and the crown of stag antlers. He was dressed in a sleeveless linen tunic and pants, his hair loose behind him. He had painted a rune in dark purple ink on his forehead, and in his hand he held long feather. For some reason the feather made him curious, and he focused on it as his father began chanting quietly under his breath. It appeared to be mostly black, fading to a royal blue at the ends. As his father stepped closer, he saw that it was not a solid color, but mottled with small white spots. It looked like a starling feather, but it must have belonged to the biggest starling in Kalimdor: it was half as long as his father's forearm. The men standing behind Kalibose pushed him down to his knees roughly and tilted his head back. He watched the feather descend closer to his face, and in panic, shifted his gaze to his father's face. The druid's golden eyes glowed in the low light, lit by an intensity that was not characteristic of him. Tenethor Woodstalker held the starling feather above his son's forehead, frozen in place as he finished the incantation. He met his son's eyes briefly, and Kalibose thought he saw tears glistening in the corners, before he pressed the end of the feather to his head like it were a quill. Fire erupted on his face, blinding him, and Kalibose heard a horrible screaming that he soon realized was coming from his own mouth. Two slow short strokes, then one long interminable one that circled and crossed the other two. It was as if his father was searing the brand into Kalibose's soul. Liquid, either blood or sweat, trickled down his face and to the side of his nose. Finally, Tenethor lifted the feather. Black crept in on Kalibose's vision as his father spoke in a strangled tone of voice.

"It is done."

The men holding him on his knees released him, and he pitched forward onto the sand, finally losing consciousness.

* * *

**_NOW_**

* * *

Kalibose sat up abruptly, fumbling at the sheets that had become entangled in his legs. Finally he yanked them off in one movement to the floor. He sat, gripping the edges of the narrow cot, panting, trying to get his bearings. Although he often had nightmares, and Elune above knew that he had lived through enough to fuel his night terrors for a lifetime, he hadn't dreamt of his trial in a long time. He rubbed a shaky hand over his face he was sweating, even though the air inside the shoddy barracks was chill. He and Mae had ultimately stayed the night in Honor's Stand. There had not been an Inn proper, as he had feared. They had both found an empty bed in with the soldiers, and Kalibose slept poorly, trying to ignore the strange sounds and pungent smells of the other inhabitants. He could not escape his self-loathing in the dark of the night.

By the grey light trickling in through the slots in the windows, he assumed it was right before dawn. He peered around the dark room blearily until he spotted Mae's empty cot pushed against the wall, the blankets neatly folded on top of it. With a groan Kalibose swung his legs off the cot and tried to rub feeling back into his face. If that infernal monk had taken off before dawn on this fool journey she insisted on, then there wasn't anything else to do about it.

The hum of the crystal still bound to his staff greeted him as he retrieved his things from under the cot. He sat for a moment as he collected his thoughts, running his thumb along a particularly deep rune carved right near the base. It looped into a nearly complete circle that intersected itself, a symbol that in this case was a minor spell, that aid would follow him in his travels. He had rolled his eyes when he saw that his mentor had etched it with the other symbols of power. Wasn't the whole point of learning the arcane and finally setting out on his way to NOT have to depend on anyone else? In fact he'd been so irritated that a space on his staff had been wasted with such a useless rune he had considered removing it and replacing it with something handy, like a minor power amplifier, or a mana boost. But in the end he had left it, because he wanted to leave as soon as possible for Dustwallow Marsh.

Now, just like everything else around him, he wasn't sure of it anymore. He was stuck in an Alliance base that he had no way of getting out of, at least for awhile. A less-than-helpful officer had informed him last night that gryphons were off-limits for civilians, no exceptions. A supply shipment was scheduled to go through in about eight days, and he was welcome to hitch a ride with them. Kalibose had turned around and stalked off before his snarky reply could leave his mouth.

The trip had been a mixture of bad and good luck. He had acquired the crystal; but it was volatile. He had someone help him that was very useful; but now they were stuck together. They had escaped the ogres only to land in a military base under attack, escaped there, only to be stuck again. In irritation he struck the base of his staff against the side of his boot. It was obvious, to him at least, that the rune was useless.

Still feeling raw around the edges from his tormented dreams, Kalibose straightened his clothes and made his way out of the Barracks. The crisp air greeted him as he pushed the flap back and stepped out. It was right at dawn- the air was still and the sky still painted a light grey in the east. There were a few soldiers out mostly gathered around the mess tent, but there was also a contingent running through training exercises out across the field. He stood for a moment, taking clear air into his lungs and feeling his mind calm. Movement caught his eye, out to the side of the barracks, and curious, he followed it.

It was Mae. Silhouetted against the new light of dawn at first he thought her to be dancing. He stood for a moment, perplexed, he realized she was not dancing, but going through a series of stretches and exercises. The difference between the soldiers training just over the hill and the monk's simple performance was like night and day. The soldiers grunted, sweated, stomped their feet and threw their weight around. Mae moved slowly, precisely, every movement deliberate and silent. A moment passed, and he realized he had been standing and staring at her like some sort of creep. Clearing his throat loudly, he made a show of walking over to a convenient rock and settling down. She did not outwardly acknowledge his presence, but when she finished her routine with a solemn bow, she had turned to face him. He twisted his face into a smirk and slowly clapped, trying to hide the fact that he was, in fact, impressed. She strode his way, shaking her silver hair out of its high ponytail.

"I saw you when you first walked out." She smiled at him as she rummaged through her pack beside the rock. "I haven't practiced for a few days. It always calms my mind, and this situation, I think, is in need of calm thoughts."

He nodded in agreement. She took a roll of tape out of her bag, and sat down right in front of him, cross-legged in the dew-covered grass. He watched as she performed what was obviously a daily ritual for her. She started at her thumb, wrapped the tape wide around her wrist, then brought it up to separate each knuckle. She did this smoothly and accurately, each strip of tape having a purpose and nothing superfluous. It was almost calming, the way she fluidly wrapped her hands to become weapons.

Kalibose again, found himself watching her without commenting, and he tried to come up with something to say.

"That is interesting, the way you are taping each knuckle separately."

"Perform each action with intent, let nothing you do be without purpose." She adopted a Pandaren accent briefly, before relaxing back into her own lilting voice. "We are taught early on how to correctly bind our hands, so that we don't break our fists on someone's face."

To emphasize, she slammed one fist into her open hand.

"After seeing you yesterday, I believe it."

Mae flipped her head upside down to gather her shoulder-length hair back up into a ponytail. It struck him, during his short time among his people, that he had not seen another female who had chosen to cut her hair so dramatically. His own sister's was kept uncut, at his mother's insistence, but even the Sentinels he had sometimes viewed on the streets of Darnassus usually had long hair kept back in a series of braids and coils. He wondered how much else had changed about the Kal'dorei while he had been gone.

"So what is your plan? Going to wait for the caravan?"

Kalibose pressed his mouth together as he gazed off into the lightening sky. The day had dawned clear, which was at least a heartening sign.

"Not if I can help it. And you? Still determined to sacrifice yourself to the wilds of Stonetalon?"

Mae's mouth turned up into a smirk as she turned the phrase back to him.

"Not if I can help it."

She settled down onto the rock beside him, and he shifted over abruptly, so they were not actually touching. He realized that she was back to her normal friendly state, instead of the cautious distance she had kept him at since he told her about the Mark. This change puzzled him.

"I spoke with the man at the armory last night, and it should be no problem to get a training staff to take with me."

She leaned back, tapping each finger thoughtfully as she went through her list.

"All I have to do now is find a map, and pack some supplies. I should be ready to go by this afternoon."

Kalibose dismissed most of what she said and focused on what was bothering him.

"You're not afraid of me anymore."

Mae stopped making her plans and looked up at him in curiosity.

"Should I be?"

Kalibose felt like his eyebrows might fly off the top of his head.

"I am an outcast."

"Well, you were marked as an outcast because you wanted to do magic. Magic isn't illegal now. So by my logic, you're not a criminal, just the victim of a misunderstanding."

She shrugged, and although Kalibose didn't like much being referred to as a victim, he pressed on.

"Are you sure? I am completely unrepentant you know. I practice my crime every single day."

Mae turned to face him fully, her now-wrapped hands braced on her knees.

"In my not-so-popular opinion, magic isn't a crime unless you use it for evil. So far all I've seen you do is make a campfire, cool off coffee, teleport, oh and rescue me from ogres. You're not evil, Kalibose. Not by a long shot."

She went back to digging through her bag, her voice muffled as she searched.

"Although I do understand why you would be unable to accompany me through Stonetalon. I don't want to get you in trouble with the Sentinels."

"I've been thinking about that, actually."

That was a lie. He had actively NOT been thinking about it. A horrible niggling fear had settled into his chest when she had first mentioned it, and he had been doing everything in his power not to think about her trying to make it alone in that hostile wasteland. But now he had nowhere to go, nothing to do but wait, and his mind had started to piece together an idea completely against his will.

"In the time since my last pleasant trip through the Stonetalon Mountains, the Alliance have established a base about halfway though. There is a possibility that you and I both could catch a flight home from there."

She was smiling at him again, and he was ashamed how much he enjoyed it.

"If nothing else, a few days of travel would show you how to navigate the land, and you'd be able to make it easier after that. I unfortunately am familiar with the way."

Mae tipped her head to the side, scrutinizing his face in a way that suddenly made him uncomfortable.

"You are not just doing this because you feel sorry for me, are you?"

"Hell no, I want out of here just as much as you do. I'm not sitting on my ass waiting for a supply convoy. If I'm at least on the road, I don't have to bunk in with a bunch of malodorous soldiers."

He stood abruptly, feeling like he was talking too much but unable to stop it.

"I'm not going to sit around and wait for you though, I expect you to keep up. Stonetalon is a hard area of wilderness to travel through, and we will have both be on our top game."

Inwardly he cringed at his hypocrisy, thinking of the unpredictable staff strapped to his back. Mae crossed her arms and smirked at him.

"You won't have to worry about my top game. I'll be running circles around anything that comes at us."

She picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder.

"I'm going to pick up a staff from the armory and get some supplies. Can you find a map?"

Kalibose wondered where this conversation took a turn that he was no longer in control of it. He snorted derisively.

"A map? You don't need a map if I'm leading the way. I will meet you at the west entrance in an hour."


	8. Stonetalon

**Author's Notes: Shhhhhh. Don't look at how long its been since I've updated.**

**Review Replies: Ihsan: Kalibose just THINKS he's slick. Although deep down, he knows he's not. **

**Nashiro: He thinks he is ha ha. In reality he's just full of it. **

**Den of Meade: I need to thank you for the idea, because before I was going to have Kalibose getting them lost but they manage to make it through. Thanks to you however, Mae packed a map just in case :). You probably won't figure Mae out completely until the end. She has a front she puts up as well: its different, but its there. **

**Emanonmortal: That is pretty accurate, actually: he is a very smart person but he isn't really good around people, and he can't seem to control himself much. Thank you for reading!**

* * *

**_BEFORE_**

* * *

The tiny carriage hit a rock in the road, making the cabin lurch. Kalibose curled himself tighter into a ball until he did not exist anymore. He wasn't Kalibose Woodstalker, son of the Druid High Council Leader and a priest, resident black sheep of a large family, failed mage, outcast of night elf society, unwanted, and unloved. He was debilitating nausea. He was a blinding headache. He was limbs that would not stop trembling and hot and cold flashes. He was want and need and everything he had been accused of: he was a junkie.

He had woken up just as he was being locked in what was now his prison. He had barely registered the dampening shackles binding his hands over the burning pain on his forehead. They were to prevent him from doing magic, and if he had anything at all resembling humanity left in him, he would have laughed. There was no chance of him doing magic in this condition.

He had been essentially locked in a box with wheels. There was a small slotted window at the very top, and if he desired, he could watch the treetops as they traveled. He was more concerned, however, with the size of the carriage. He couldn't move his arms without knocking his elbows against the walls. His legs were folded up and he couldn't straighten them. Right now his most desperate need was mana, in the worst possible way. But quickly catching up was a burning need to just stretch his limbs. He flexed uselessly against the confining walls and forced down a wave of panic. He had not ever been afraid of enclosed places, like some of his kin were, but then again, he hadn't really had a chance to test it.

To keep his mind off the panic rising up inside of him, he tuned into the Sentinels speaking above him. There were two of them, sitting on top of the carriage, guiding the great nightsabre pulling it to the border of Ashenvale forest. He had no idea how close they were, or how much longer it was going to take: like his identity, time was much more fluid in this altered state of his withdrawal. Sometimes he thought he was actually hallucinating, and he was still back in the capital city with his family, and then the cabin would bounce and he would knock his head against the side and he would be brought back to the horrible present.

"...seen one before, but Niaelle says it is unmistakeable: it's like it lights up a beacon for the entire forest."

"There is no way that you could ignore it. It's been probably twenty-five hundred years, but I still remember the way the activated Mark drew us all to the man who had tried to sneak back across the borders. Of course, he was a terrible, terrible man, a child molester. I still don't know why they let him go at all. Probably some sort of family influence. We had a competition to see who would take him down first, although there were many arrows in him by the time we drug him back to the outpost."

Just as quickly, Kalibose tried to tune out the rest of their conversation. Of course, they were talking about his punishment. He had been given the rules of his banishment while they were stuffing him into this crate, and they had stuck with him, in spite of the nearly fugue-like state he was in.

The Mark was permanent. It would not fade with time, only death. It could not be removed, except under exceptional circumstances, and only by the person who put it on.

He was not to step even one foot onto lands blessed by Elune and curated by the Kal'dorei. If he did so, the Mark on his forehead would light up like the sun in the night sky, and would attract every Sentinel to him for miles. They were all instructed to kill him on sight. It could not be turned off: if he activated the Mark, even accidentally, the only resolution was death.

There were no more tears left in Kalibose to cry, but he curled himself even tighter inside the crate, and tried to forget the world.

* * *

**_AFTER_**

* * *

Kalibose's head cracked sharply into the roof of the small chasm and for a moment, he was completely disoriented. Mae was suddenly there, shoving him in with both hands, hissing at him under her breath, until they were both wedged into the narrow crevice. He tried to shake his head, again hit the rock, and then squeezed his eyes shut to get over his dizziness. It was uncomfortable, with both of them crammed together as close as possible, and Kalibose was distinctively aware of Mae's elbow digging into his stomach and his staff likely leaving a welt against his shoulder. He held still however, and felt Mae freeze as well, as a clack-clack-clack noise forced its way into the cavern with them. He held his breath, listening intently. The noise was joined by another, then another, until there were a herd of the creatures slowly scuttling past them. One paused at the opening, and Kalibose could see one long green and black claw scratching at the dirt right next to Mae's foot. She cringed against him, but held still until the creature continued on its way. They waited, barely breathing, for what felt like an eternity until the noise was completely gone and the herd of creatures had moved on its way. Mae let out a breath first, and he realized he was gripping her arms and stopped, bringing a hand up to feel the knot forming on the top of his head.

"So I gather the spiders have migrated since you've been here." Mae took a step away from him, as much as the space allowed, and shook herself all over. "I do not like spiders."

"That makes two of us." Kalibose relaxed against the wall behind him. He was still feeling out of sorts from the mad run from the arachnids, and then hitting his head against the top of the tiny cave he had miraculously stumbled across. Which to be honest, had been one of the most fortunate things to happen all day.

Their start out from the Alliance camp had gone well. They were both happy to be actually moving, to do something about the situation instead of letting it stagnate, but Kalibose held onto a trickle of anticipation. He was a trained mage now, and even if he was having problems with his energy source, he was still a force to be reckoned with. Mae was a tough little monk, and together they had already proved to overtake the odds. He was not the scrawny, mana-starved adolescent that had last traveled through Stonetalon. That knowledge, no matter how many times he repeated it in his head, was not enough to keep his anxiety completely at bay.

Still, they had high spirits as they followed the rough terrain down the sloped path that meandered in a generally western direction. It was only slightly more than a footpath: barely worn down enough to allow a wagon to pass through, and didn't often see the hoofprints of horses. It was obvious that not many ventured into Stonetalon from Honor's Stand.

Their first encounter with enemies, a roving pack of the rogue Tauren known as the Grimtotem, went well enough, with Mae jumping into the fray a little too enthusiastically and Kalibose using his spells as sparingly as possible to keep her from getting overwhelmed. His magic had not faltered at all: it actually felt like it was feeding correctly from the crystal, and he held out hope that perhaps it had started to accept his ownership, and would not require further binding on his part. Mae had emerged from the fight with nary a scratch, and they were both downright jovial as they drug the bodies off the road behind the trees. Kalibose started to feel like this journey was not as pointless as it felt: his crystal would bind correctly, he would see Mae off to her parents' house, and he would be able to catch a flight home himself.

It was the second encounter with Grimtotem that things started to go very, very wrong. Kalibose had spotted the trio of shaggy Tauren right off the road, absorbed in their own morning meal and not even realizing how visible they were to the nearly non-existent path they were following. He pointed them out to Mae, who suggested they scale a nearby tree and pick them off from there. Mae ran right up into the tree like she had lived there her whole life. With some difficulty and her help, he made it up there beside her. Kalibose was feeling a little cocky: his magic had behaved before, been strong even, and he thought he might try a concussive spell, to knock all three out at once. He took a breath, and started to prepare the spell in his head, chanting and holding his concentration. The three Tauren had not noticed them yet, and in fact were talking among themselves as they passed around food of questionable nature. One gesticulated wildly while the others seemed more skeptical of his opinion. Kalibose focused on the air right between the three of them and felt the familiar burn of the tattoos on his knuckles as the energy flowed through his hands and gathered in his palm. It was only after he threw the spell as hard as he could that he realized the buzzing in his fingers felt off. For as accurate as he normally was with his spellcasting, it lobbed weakly out of his hand and dropped down to the ground below them. He was only able to breathe out a curse as he watched in horror as it struck the bushes, and exploded into a blast of pure white. Both he and Mae were knocked backward out of the tree, and although they both managed to avoid injury, it of course attracted the attention of the Tauren. Thankfully his magic seemed to work for him that time, and the second concussive spell hit the middle one in the chest, and Mae quickly dispatched the others.

And then it continued, as they wound their way further and further into the tree-filled mountainous region. Kalibose, already unsettled at the extreme unpredictability of his magic, found himself getting turned around again and again. The destructive path the black dragon aspect had cut through the planet had apparently changed more than he thought: uprooted forests, shifted mountains, and relocated entire ecosystems of creatures. There were ponds where there hadn't been before. The skyline had changed enough that it was nigh on unfamiliar. He didn't even know where all these fucking thunder lizards had come from, but there they were, and damn if they weren't territorial when he and Mae stumbled into one of their nesting areas.

They had spent the majority of the afternoon on the run. As fierce as Mae was, she still had shrieked like a child as Momma Thunder Lizard came bellowing after them, and Kalibose would never admit it, but he did his fair share of screaming as they ran as fast as they could farther into the trees. This was an area that Kalibose had thought safe, but it was obvious the huge arachnids of Webwinder Hollow had expanded their boundaries into the plateau adjacent to their previous home. With his magic in top condition, he would not be worried—but now he wondered how they were going to make it to Windshear Hold alive.

Defeated, he slumped down the rest of the way onto the ground and rested his face in his palms.

"I have a confession to make."

Mae looked up from where she was scratching a stick into the dirt beside her. They were still so close together that their feet had to be entangled so they could both sit.

"You have no idea where we are going?"

Kalibose paused. "Okay, then I have two confessions to make.

"The crystal that we got back at the ogre camp did not fuse to my staff correctly."

As if it could tell they were talking about it, the faint purple glow illuminating the cave grew brighter. Kalibose glanced up at the monk and saw nothing but curiosity on her face. Taking a breath, he continued.

"I don't know how much you know about magic, but I'll be brief. Mages use energy to create their spells. A person only has so much magic inside of them, and you can't tap into it forever. We need a power source. My staff, before obtaining the crystal, was my power source, but the crystal was supposed to amplify that. More power, less mana used. But somehow the binding went wrong and its acting unpredictably."

Mae's mouth twitched upward into a smile.

"Is that why you did your knock out spell on us, instead of those Tauren?"

"-yes."

"Is that why instead of freezing the thunder lizard you screamed and ran like a girl?"

"I did NOT. I retreated in a hasty manner. Quietly."

"Sure you did." Mae's smirk reached both sides of her mouth as she picked at the wrappings on one of her hands. It was sorely dirty after the mess of fighting today. The red clay mud mixed together with the dried blood until it was difficult to tell the two apart. Kalibose did not think any of it was her own, but with the comedy of errors that had been the day, it was possible. He had a cut above his eye on one side of his face, dangerously close to his Mark, and his palms were scratched up from scrabbling through dense underbrush. Mae's hair had mostly come down from her high ponytail, and covered a large portion of her face. Besides the dried blood on her knuckles, there was a rip in her tunic where she had caught it on an errant branch.

Kalibose drug his eyes away from watching her and tried to salvage his explanation. "Anyway, I just wanted to apologize for insinuating that I was at all more powerful than I really am. And for getting us lost."

For a moment Mae continued to fidget with her wrappings thoughtfully. The tension hung between them, and Kalibose was about to get up and climb over her out of the stuffy chasm when she spoke.

"Did you come with me for the sole purpose of showing off what an extraordinary mage you were?"

Kalibose frowned. "No, I spoke the truth before. I believe Windshear Hold is the next practical step for both of us. And I know how dangerous Stonetalon can be, and I thought we'd have a better chance traveling together."

He snorted to himself. "Although, I can see now that you probably would have done just as well or better without me."

It was difficult for Kalibose to read Mae's face. With a start he realized that dusk was nearly upon them, and they would have to find shelter for the night soon. He shifted, stretching his arms and legs to their limits. It was cramped in the tiny crevice, and he could feel his claustrophobia start to creep in. As long as he could straighten his limbs, he could stave it off, but it was starting to make him uncomfortable.

"If you think I am going to yell at you for over-estimating yourself, then you don't know me very well yet."

Mae shifted, drawing her legs up and standing precariously in the tight space.

"And it is fortunate for you that I never travel without a map, whether I have a guide or not." In the growing dark, she flashed a smile. "But I can't read it in here. We'll have to leave this cave, and keep going."

She stuck her head out of the opening of the cave, and apparently determining it safe, climbed out. Kalibose stumbled after her with much less confidence, checking for spiders himself before joining her standing on the rocky crag above them. The dusk was falling heavy about them, the trees ushering it in more quickly around them than on the high mountainous peaks to either side. Wherever they went next, they needed to hurry. Mae was unfolding a map that looked like it had been handwritten on the back of a supply sheet.

"The nice soldier at the mess tent drew this out for me. The best I can tell, we are right here." She stabbed her finger to a valley in between the two major mountain ridges of the region. Kalibose peered over her shoulder, and tried to reconcile the map in his head with the rough one on the sheet of paper.

"To my credit, we are essentially right where I thought we were." He gestured to the path that the spiders had taken and back south of them, where the thunder lizards had taken up residence. "It's just the creatures that have changed location, for the most part."

Mae carefully folded up the map and slipped it back into the outside pocket of her pack. "Since we are right on track then, anywhere here should be good to find a place to stay for the night."

Kalibose nodded, already glancing around the rocky uneven terrain. "The arachnids will take to the trees for the night, and stay off the ground. The thunder lizards will sleep in groups, and the harpies," here he paused, unable to suppress a shudder, "will already have homes and nests to return to. As long as we are hidden and the area unoccupied, we should be fine."

They set out again, and Kalibose felt a little more hopeful. He let her take the lead, and he watched behind, as they clambered about the edges of the darkening valley. Soon they found a solid cave, a little higher up from the floor of the forest below, and dusty, but big enough for the two of them. Kalibose started a fire, and they split the rations they had between themselves. Darkness crept into the cave around them, but it was warm there, with the small fire by the door, and the company was much more comfortable than the first night they spent together.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Kalibose looked up from where he was obsessively fiddling with the campfire. The left side had not been quite as curved as the right, not quite a mirror image, and he was shifting sticks one at a time to make it line up neatly. Outside there was a low sound of an animal call in the distance, and in spite of himself, Kalibose jumped.

"How did you make it through Stonetalon before? Wasn't that right after you had been banished?"

Kalibose returned his attention back to the fire and its perceived symmetry. "I was not in good shape when they turned me out of Ashenvale. I was in my first mana withdrawal. The vomiting and shakes were bad enough, but by the evening, I started to hallucinate."

He avoided the look on Mae's face and instead started the fire to spin. Slowly at first, then faster, until the orb of flame flattened above its fuel source.

"The harpies were after me from the beginning. They are sentient, you know. Feral, and impossible to reason with, but definitely sentient. They can also sense magic, on a base level. They tracked me slowly, as I made my way south. They could have picked me off at any time, but I guess they wanted the chase."

The fire was beginning to get out of control, so Kalibose forced himself to slow the vortex, forced calm through his being.

"What happened?" Mae's voice was a whisper.

"A much older night elf mage, if you can believe it, who happened to be headed south himself. He was from Eldre'thelas, and he recognized the smell of mana withdrawal from across the zone. It wasn't hard for him to find me."

Mae's face was lit up in relief. "What a kind man, to save you like that!"

Kalibose snorted as he let the fire return to its default shape with a plop.

"Mannerel is an asshole. He saw someone young and impressionable, and knew I had no choice but to accept his help."

Satisfied with the symmetry of the fire at last, Kalibose leaned back and rested on his elbows.

"But he brought me to the outcast Kal'dorei city, and started me on proper training, so I guess I owe him that."

"Shouldn't you be more grateful to the man who saved your life?"

Mae was exasperated with him, but Kalibose knew the man. Mannerel was tall, severe, and only interested in his own agenda. He had thought Kalibose to be someone that he could manipulate into being his apprentice and slave forever, but even his younger self had been savvy, and under his master's oppressive tutelage, had learned to do his own share of manipulating himself. Outwardly he shrugged.

"He saved me for his own purposes. I may owe him my life, but I do not have to respect or like the man."

Mae chewed on her bottom lip as she tore the worn and dirty tape off her hands. The gesture might have looked meek, but he could see the fire reflected in her eyes.

"I guess we will just have to agree to disagree."

With a huff, she turned from him and rolled up in her cloak to sleep. Kalibose stayed where he was, listening intently to the wildlife outside. It was well past midnight, and only after hearing nothing but silence from any harpies, that he allowed himself to sleep.

_He was running._

_The gritty, foul air didn't seem to be compatible with his lungs at all. He gasped loudly, feeling like he was trying to breathe watery sand. His legs shook as he forced them on, and he prayed to every deity he had ever heard of not to stumble. The ground here was pitted and rocky, and his legs were so weak that even in his panicked state he knew that one bad fall could very well be the end of it. Behind him, oppressively close, was the wind of great, greasy feathers attached to even greater wings. A shrill croon filled the air around him, and a hitching sob caught in his throat as he jumped over a rock and nearly fell. The creature wasn't even trying hard to catch him; she knew he was a goner. Either today, tonight, or tomorrow morning, soon he would be dead. All he had managed to scavenge to eat his withdrawal forced back up, and the foul water he found to drink left his head swimming. His tears felt like a betrayal as they ran down his face and made it even harder to breath: he needed that moisture in him, and it was running away from him as well. _

_His foot twisted on an errant hole, and with a despairing cry, he was down. He laid on the ground, sobbing, his ankle on fire, his entire body shaking. He was going to die. He was going to die a failure in everything he had ever tried to do. He had no family, he had no friends, he had no home, and he had no more magic. With a rush of wind, he heard the creature settle down behind him. He cringed, not even trying to fight back. Please, Elune, let it be quick. Let her tear his throat out in one bite. Let her knock him out with a rock first. If nothing else, please, let him hurt no more. _

_There was a humming behind him, slowly growing louder. Why didn't she end it? Why would she sing to her food before killing it? His sobs renewed louder as he tried not to think of how long she would take to torture him before finally consuming him. The humming was closer, right behind his ears, and with a shock he realized that they were words. Sung quietly in Darnassian. Gentle hands touched his shoulder, and he turned around, sobbing this time in relief. It was his mother. She had followed him out here. She wouldn't let him go by himself. She was going to save him. Her face was covered by her shawl, but he knew it was her. He flung himself at her, crying out for her as he had not since he was small and still allowed to climb into her bed to sleep after a nightmare. She held him and rocked him, singing in her soft voice, and he sobbed as if his heart would break. He cried for the rejection of his peers. He cried for the nights of mental anguish as he pushed himself into magic. He cried for being abandoned by his father. He cried for his punishment, and he cried for his loneliness. He clutched at the soft fabric of her robes, and pressed his face into her as if he would never let go. She smelled safe, like fresh air and lavender blossoms, and even though in the back of his head he knew that wasn't the right smell, that she always had the faint scent of sandalwood and the other oils commonly used at the Temple of Elune, he ignored his inner voice, and let himself be comforted to sleep._

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**End Note: This will be the last chapter with a before part, as we are all pretty much caught up to speed now. From here on out it will only be written in the here and now.**


	9. Onward

**Author's Notes: What is this sorcery? Two updates in a week? Whatever shall you do with this much story? **

**Comment Reviews: Ihsan: Sandalwood is a scent I generally associate with rituals, so being a priestess, Kalibose's mother would have that scent about her. Scent is an important memory trigger, after all :).**

**Den of Meade: First of all, do not fret: I am not done with Reyloran yet. He will get his own, but it will be in the very last Scepter Universe story. So awhile from now. Second of all: writing two stories is HARD. This will hopefully get the story out faster. Also, it would just be bogging down the main story line. **

**On a general note, there seemed to be some confusion with the last little bit of chapter eight: that is a dream, not a flashback. **

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He was so warm.

For as long as he could remember he was always too cold when he first woke. Not just his fingers and toes, but the front of his face and his elbows and anything else that might have escaped from the comforter. He had always been plagued by poor circulation, and then later, poor health. He was used to it by now, and barely bothered by it. But this morning, he was entirely warm. And his bed was so soft. His mother must have sent someone to tuck his down comforter around him while he slept, so that he would be warm upon waking. Perhaps she even did it herself. It must have been washed recently, it smelled so good, like the lavender blossoms from the Temple Gardens. It had been his favorite thing before to roll up in his favorite light blue comforter and read by the fire all day, even in the summer.

Before.

The word hung on his subconscious as he buried his face deeper into the comforter with a sigh. The comforter that shifted underneath him and made a sleepy noise.

_Before._

He was not at home.

He couldn't ever go home again.

He was an outcast.

He was in a cave in the middle of Stonetalon, with-

With an unintelligible cry he tried to push himself up, roll away, blink to another continent, and disappear entirely, all at once. Somehow all he succeeded in doing was jumping back and falling flat on his back, cracking his head sharply against the rocky floor. For a moment all mortification disappeared as stars danced in front of his eyes.

"Ow."

After a few blinks, he groaned and sat up. The fire had died down to coals but he didn't need it to see: the sun had already risen enough to illuminate the entire cave. Mae was sitting up rubbing her eyes, her hair a disheveled silver cloud and her feet still tucked under _his blanket_.

_Fuck._

"-what?" was all his mouth could formulate. It was far less full of expletives than what his brain was screaming.

Mae ran her hands through her wild hair and her voice held a distinctive squeak to it as she spoke.

"You were having a nightmare last night, and I tried to wake you, but all you did was grab my shirt and you were so upset, you were crying..."

She had been staring down at the frayed edge of the blanket, and briefly, she flicked her eyes up at him. Her voice rose even higher. "Don't look at me like that! You were the one that grabbed me!"

Her cheeks colored dark red in the early light of the day, and he could tell that his were the same color by the heat he felt in his face. She dropped her eyes back down in her lap.

"Anyway, I guess we both fell back asleep after that."

Kalibose rubbed his palms over his eyes, willing himself to remember. He recalled the dream, one he had experienced many times, but this time, it had taken a turn in a different direction. With a shock he realized why.

"I would," he started, then had to begin again, because his voice was so strained he could barely understand himself, "I would appreciate it if we could just pretend that didn't happen."

He cleared his throat, trying to stop his mind from wondering just how much of the dream he had lived out in reality. "Sorry for waking you last night."

He pushed himself to standing, and walking over to Mae, gave her a hand up. She didn't quite meet his eye as they both busied themselves preparing the morning meal. Outwardly, he was trying to act like everything was normal. Inwardly, his emotions were everywhere. He had acted in a completely mortifying manner in his sleep. But he had woken up feeling safe and comforted, which was something he hadn't experienced since he was a child. Try as he might, he could neither reconcile his actions nor could he justify the fluttering in his stomach, and for once, his thoughts were completely useless as they ate their breakfast in silence.

After they had packed up their possessions and Kalibose was properly dousing the fire, Mae cleared her throat. He glanced up to see her examining the hand-drawn map at the opening of the cave.

"We should reach Windshear Hold today by noontide. Do you want me to take the lead?"

"That would probably be best." Kalibose used his staff to pull himself to standing. The damn crystal was so quiet it was easy to forget that it had a mind of its own, but he would not be fooled today.

The two of them left their temporary shelter, and set off in a cautious north-eastern direction. The sky was mottled with clouds, and the wind was chilly as they kept along the edge of the cliffs. The bottom half of Stonetalon was cooler in general, with clusters of medium-height mountainous peaks and ridges, filled in the middle with trees and the random pool of water. It was the northern half, near Windshear and closer to the border of Ashenvale, that contained flat expanses of the rocky sand that haunted his dreams. It was there that the harpies dwelt.

Kalibose dutifully followed the bounce of Mae's pack in front of him as she nimbly leapt from crag to crag, but his mind was far away. The crystal was unusually silent behind him, the arachnids were all secluded to their own hidden grove, the thunder lizards further south. The clouds hung low and heavy and brooded amongst themselves so that by mid-morning, they had multiplied until they filled the sky in puffy lumps no longer broken up by patches of blue. Mae had gotten bored with the quiet between them, and had started chatting, sometimes loud enough that it drifted back to him and he made the appropriate noises in response, and sometimes just to herself as they traveled. If not for the tension in the clouds above, and the lingering awkwardness from the morning, it would almost be a comfortable journey.

Before they had completely left the valley where the arachnids made their giant nests, rain started to fall from the sky in large, slow drops. To amuse himself, Kalibose started to freeze each one before it hit the ground. In the underground Kal'dorei city of Eldre'thalas, deep in the middle of the Feralas Jungle, they had rain often. To escape his peers or the never-ending tyranny of his mentor he would climb his way carefully to the roof of the ancient Ogre arena, and there taught himself to freeze the rain into ice before it struck a surface. It was a never-ending game that sharpened his hand-eye coordination and he got to the point where it was instinctual, and he could puzzle out spells or problems while littering the unsuspecting ogres below with ice pellets.

Today, it didn't even register at first that he was doing it. Just clink, clink, ice pellets sprinkling around their feet. It was soothing, really, as he focused on the steps Mae's boots took in front of him and left a sprinkling of ice in their wake. A flash of movement caught his attention, just at the edge of the web-wrapped trees, and without thinking, he whipped his head around to investigate. The minor ice spell went wild of the water droplet it was aimed for, and very effectively froze Mae's feet to the ground. She fell forward with a shriek, but Kalibose had stopped walking completely and was staring in horror at the biggest set of eyes he had ever seen on a living creature.

"Kalibose! What was that for?" Mae shouted from behind him.

Briefly, Kalibose considered telling her to be quiet, and then to run, but all practical thought seemed to slip out of his mind like water as no fewer than _ten_ eyes, two of which were larger than half of his body, stared at him curiously. They were mottled green and black, with no discernible pupils, and if he were thinking properly, he might wonder how the creature could see at all. He felt his arms fall limp to his sides as he just stood there. The creature chittered at him, almost in a pleasant manner, and vaguely he registered that instead of taking a few steps forward, its entire body shifted in segments, the movement so fluid that even if its eyes had not hypnotized him, just the way it walked would have.

"_Kalibose_!"

Mae was calling him, somewhere off in the distance. Some other country possibly, some other time. It didn't matter. The creature chittered at him again, and its eyes swayed from side to side, and Kalibose felt his own body sway in time with it. Back and forth. The eyes moved forward, and he was swallowed even further into their depths. Back and forth. Chitter chitter, so close that he could feel foul breath moving over his robes.

Suddenly there was a sharp pain on the back of his head, so sudden that he stumbled forward. As soon as his eyes broke contact with the creature in front of him, the spell was broken. He shook his head, and instead of the harmless chitter from the giant arachnid, he heard a _screech_. He looked up, purposely to the side of the huge eyes. Towering above him was the biggest spider he had ever seen. Standing up to its full height, like it was right now, he could barely reach its underbelly if he jumped. Its entire body was painted in stripes of black and dark green, so that as it lay in wait just inside the trees, it would be almost invisible. And right now, as its victim had pulled away from it to flee, it was angry.

With not even time for a shouted expletive, Kalibose turned and ran for Mae. She was still frozen to the ground, trying in vain to yank her boots out of the ice. He could hear the spider in pursuit, the click and clack of its claws on the ground multiplied a hundred times the sound of its smaller brethren. He dove for Mae just as the spider lunged for them. Praying to whatever god of magic that would listen, he threw an arcane bubble around them. Somehow, it worked, and the spider rebounded off of the shield, hissing loudly. Kalibose felt the impact in his bones as he struggled to hold the bubble in place. Beside him, Mae left off trying to unfreeze her boot and started to unlace it.

"You know, I don't think I can fight that," she whispered as she pulled her feet free of their entrapment. The spider dove at them again, and Kalibose nearly lost his hold on the bubble completely.

"Neither can I," he whispered back, his voice strained. "When I say go, run like hell. The path should go right to Windshear Hold."

"Ready."

He reached actively for a boost from the crystal, hoping for enough for a distraction. Energy instantly flooded into his body, so much that he could barely hold it back. For the first time since he acquired the wretched crystal, its malfunction worked in his favor. He stepped in front of Mae, and with not even a trickle of fear, stared down the giant arachnid with murder in its eyes. It hissed angrily at him, and Kalibose bared his teeth in return.

_Not this time, monster._

"Go!" he yelled, and broke the arcane bubble.

He heard a scrabbling of feet behind him, and only counted off a few seconds before he attacked. He started off with a concussion bomb, that by all accounts should not have even worked on so massive a creature, and yet it hit it so hard it knocked it off of its feet. His magic lit up inside of him, and he threw arcane blast after arcane blast at the spider, slowly driving it back toward the webbed trees. This was what he desired from being a mage. This power, coursing through him, finally feeling invincible after a lifetime of being the underdog. Forget being an outcast. Forget his family. Forget his friends, both old and new. He only needed this.

And then, the magic stopped. He was in the middle of casting an arcane blast that was just excessive, really: the spider had already given up on its meal and was scratching desperately back toward its trees. All the extra mana left him in a rush, and he stumbled forward, hitting the ground with his already scraped palms. The center of his chest ached desperately from the loss of mana, and in a fit of anger, he hit the ground again and cursed.

"No! Stupid, fucking, crystal!"

His voice rasped in his ears as tears threatened in his eyes. Furious, he pulled his staff off his back and threw it to the ground.

"Useless! You are so fucking useless!"

The staff didn't even pulse at him like usual. There was no indication at all that the Eye of Argus was anything more than a rock he had chipped out of the ground and slapped on top of a stick with carvings on it. Kalibose stared at it, willing his hands to make fire, wanting to burn the entire fucking thing to a crisp, but absolutely nothing happened, not even a spark.

Above him, the heavens above decided that they, too, hated him, and the clouds opened up to pour down rain. Kalibose tilted his head up, feeling the water soak his hair and run down inside of his cloak and not caring. Behind him, farther up the path, he heard Mae call for him. He closed his eyes, wishing that the rain would do something more than make him even more miserable. Wash away his failures, fill up his body with magic, or failing that, at least drown him and be done with it. She called for him again, and in defeat, he opened his eyes and picked up his staff. No matter how much he despised it right now, he couldn't leave it here.

"Right here, Mae."

She was running back down the path toward him, holding her hood over her head against the rain.

"I thought you were right behind me, what happened? Where's the spider?"

"It's gone." Kalibose couldn't seem to do anything more than the minimum requirement of conversation. He reached down, and with a yank, broke the ice around Mae's boots. He carried them to Mae, who looked completely unconvinced at his answers.

"What's wrong?"

He shook his head. "Let's just keep going. We're almost there." He gestured to where Mae was lacing her boots back on. "Sorry about freezing your feet."

Without another word, he continued up the path. It led sharply up an incline after the treeline, and thankfully between the precarious terrain and the torrential rain, there was not any room for talking. They slogged their way upward, the sweeping rooftops of Windshear Hold guiding their way in. They were both covered in red clay mud by the time they reached the top. He had a fleeting moment where he just wanted to sink down into the mud and not move, just stay there until it filled up around him and covered his head. It took him an immense amount of effort to take another step forward, then another one, until they were at the outskirts of the town proper.

Ahead of him, under a colorful awning, he finally saw something to break him out of his mood: a hippogryph. Which was in the process of being saddled _right now_. He broke into a halting run, his boots sinking into the mud with every step.

"Hey!" he yelled, stumbling through the mud and trying to reach what could finally be his salvation. "Stop right there!"

There were a few people huddled under the awning with the hippogryph, one of which was definitely his handler. The one that stood to look at him though, was not. It was a night elf man, very tall, wearing what might have once been expensive robes. His navy blue hair fell loose halfway down the middle of his back, but what stood out about him the most was the pervading hum of magic that surrounded him. This was a powerful, possibly very old, night elf mage. The man looked down his nose at Kalibose and shook his head once, in a dignified manner.

"Not a chance, kid. I am headed for the capital city, where I am to finally reunite with my daughter." His voice was deep as the ocean. "I haven't seen her for over a thousand years. I have already paid for this flight."

Kalibose ignored the man's words and how they hit him right in the stomach. "But I need to go-"

_Home_ was what had been on his lips, but that wasn't quite right. He needed to go home. But Eldre'thalas wasn't home. The mage did not spare him another glance as he mounted the hippogryph.

"Then you shall have to wait."

The hippogryph waddled out of the awning, and prepared to leap into the air. In a last act of desperation, Kalibose tried to throw ice at its feet. He didn't intend to hurt it or its rider: he just wanted another moment to plead his case. The spell however, completely backfired in his hand: where moments ago the crystal was completely unresponsive, now it blazed an angry purple, and instead of freezing the hippogryph, the spell exploded, throwing him backward into the mud. The hippogryph reared up briefly, and took off into the air. Kalibose watched, dazed, as it wheeled around in a circle and then headed in a northern direction. He closed his eyes. Footsteps squelched into the mud and he felt hands on his arm, trying to pull him up. He stayed where he was, wanting to be numb like this forever.

"Leave me alone, Mae."

"You are _laying in the mud_. Get up."

He ignored her efforts. "Let me guess, there are no more hippogryphs."

She stopped pulling on him. "Actually, there are."

He opened his eyes. Her face looked apologetic underneath the sopping mess of her silver hair. "What's the catch?"

"There is one more hippogryph. However it is due to calve in the next few days and is unable to fly. Unless someone flies in, there will be nothing else for two weeks."

He closed his eyes again. Cold mud started to seep into his ears, but he ignored it. Mae started to tug at his arm again.

"Come on, we can get a room at the inn, at least we'll be warm and dry-"

"I said leave me _alone_!"

His anger exploded inside of him so sudden, and so hot, he half-expected his robes to be on fire. He sat up sharply, and Mae leaned back from him, suddenly wary. Her face went through a series of emotions: shock, hurt, and finally hardening back up into resignation. She put her hands on her knees and pushed herself to standing.

"Fine."

Without another word, she stomped through the mud away from him. He watched her go, breathing hard, feeling as if a crucial piece of his humanity had evacuated from his body and was now running for dear life. He closed his eyes again, focused on the raindrops pelting his face, and wished again that the rain and mud would drown him and take him away. It did not grant him that courtesy, and finally he drug himself up and listlessly moved down the road further into town. Nothing else left to do but wait.


	10. Song

**Author's Notes: WHAT WHAT another regular update? We have a lot of review replies so bear with.**

**Ihsan: I think if Kalibose and Lorel were to start a swear jar together, they could fund the Alliance Army. Just sayin'.**

**Feffervesce: okay let's just do this in order. ch 6 The thing about Kalibose that I want everyone to remember is that he was thrown out as a CHILD. He never really grew up from that, so emotionally, he is still a child. He misses his mother. He was betrayed by his father. He just wants love, although he is bad at showing it.**

**ch 7 see above. Also sorrynotsorry for making you cry**

**ch 8 Mae is a lot deeper than she looks. I hope to get into more of that in chapter 11.**

**ch 9 somewhere Mae and Kalibose overtook all my other couples in my brain and I love them too :D**

**Den of Meade: Yeah, Kalibose is going to humble himself a bit here. It's about time, I think.**

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The mountainous region called Stonetalon by both its Kal'dorei neighbours and its orcish invaders alike, was a temperamental one. The hazardous peaks and ridges that slowly got higher and higher in elevation to end at Stonetalon Peak in the far northwest corner made for unpredictable weather and fierce occupants. Today however, it was just as dreary as it had been the past two days, and Kalibose was completely unimpressed as he surveyed the terrain from his perch on top of the highest balcony of the inn.

Rain ran down in streams off the overhang of the balcony, obscuring the air until it appeared one was watching a watercolor painting slowly run off the page. With all the rain that had fallen since they had arrived at Windshear Hold, one would expect the air to be chilled. Instead, the humidity was so high merely breathing was a chore. Kalibose was completely bundled up in clean dry clothes and his cloak, and he couldn't seem to get comfortable. He couldn't even pretend that it was physical discomfort anymore-three days of being by himself and he was lonely.

He was a coward. He would freely admit this to himself now: he was ashamed of his actions, he was depressed about his magic failing him again and again, and he was too afraid to go to the person whom he most wanted to talk to and apologize. The first day hadn't been too bad: he had found a room, gotten clean and eaten something, and then fell into bed and slept the entire night until late the next morning. And that was the most peace he had had since. He didn't know what room she was in. He avoided leaving the inn in the early part of the morning in case he happened upon her somewhere going through her morning ritual. He took his meals during strange hours. And now, mid-afternoon on the third day, he was bored, he was lost, and he still had zero plans for what to do about his situation.

He couldn't stay here. He couldn't go back to Eldre'thalas, at least not immediately. And he most certainly couldn't go forward. After changing position again and not being satisfied, he pushed himself to his feet. At least walking was something to do.

The buildings in Windshear Hold, to compensate for not having much room to expand the town, were instead built up to brush the sky. The inn itself was the tallest building, at four stories, but there were other tall buildings as well, like the barracks to house the military, the stables, a mechanic's workshop, and a cluster of shops that were all stacked on top of each other like books. Kalibose's feet took him down the sharply inclined stairways and the sturdy ladders to the bottom floor. The innkeeper nodded at him as he crossed the main lobby, but there were only a few people occupying the tables today, and none of them who he wanted to see. He pulled his cloak over his head and walked out the door.

What was torrential rain the first two days had tapered down slightly to a dreary, steady soaking. Kalibose's boots squished in the perpetual mud as he made for the boardwalks built between the buildings. They were necessary, due to the spring monsoon season, but were not as sturdy as he would have liked. As he moodily traversed the path, he sometimes listed to the side from loose boards.

He had traveled the boardwalks many times now in the few days they had been there, and he barely even noticed the buildings as he passed them now. The first was the multi-shop complex that looked to be crowded, even in the weather. Of course, the local residents were used to this and would not be deterred. Kalibose gave it a wide berth. The next building was slightly downhill, and his footsteps clomped loudly as he kept his balance. The stench that accompanied most stables was markedly subdued in the cleansing weather, and for a moment Kalibose rested underneath the awning to escape the raindrops.

Although it was mid-afternoon, and most of the animals were sleeping, Kalibose could still hear the muted squawks, growls, and various other noises of the personal mounts housed in the stable. It was soothing almost, nestled underneath the awning in a moment of quiet among the various creatures. Somewhere on the edge of his hearing however, was something not made by any animal in residence: it sounded like music. Kalibose took two steps inside the stable to investigate. The sound grew slightly clearer; it was definitely coming from inside this building. Pulling his hood back from his head to hear better, he slowly paced down the length of the stable. It was a fairly clean set up, and just over the stable gates he could catch glimpses of the personal mounts within: patches of bright colored fur, stretches of oily scales, and some that he wasn't sure at all what kind of covering they had. The further he went to the opposite end, the more he was sure that it wasn't just music, it was someone singing. Someone with a quiet, lilting voice. Someone who wasn't singing to attract attention to herself: merely to comfort the ones listening. At the very end of the stables was a large loft only reachable by ladder. From the floor, it looked to be a storage for hay, and the singing was coming from there. By the time Kalibose made it up the ladder, he was pretty sure who it was.

From below, all you could see from the loft was storage. Once Kalibose's head was above the level of the floor, he could see it was much more than that. There were hay bales, yes, and there were crates of supplies stacked up on the sides, but the middle had been completely cleared out to make a wide berth for what was obviously a nesting area. A magnificent hippogryph in shades of green and blue and purple dominated the eye in the center of it all. Her, for it was definitely a she, gave him a piercing look as he climbed into the loft, but for the most part she was quiet as she rested on her untidy nest of hay. The singing was clear here: a quiet lullaby, sung reverently in Darnassian. Without preamble Kalibose settled down on an empty crate beside Mae, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor, her entire attention into her singing. He listened for a few more minutes, soaking in the peacefulness of the scene, before he spoke.

"It was you that was singing before." His voice was quiet, so that he would interrupt her as little as possible. She glanced up at him, and her eyes were fathomless pools of moonlight.

"I thought we were pretending that didn't happen."

"We are."

She had stopped singing, but the melody lingered on in the pitter-patter of the rain on the thatched roof of the stable. It had been a melancholy sound for a lullaby, and the tune clung mournfully to the raindrops that trickled down from small leaks in the ceiling. The silence stretched out between them, heavy and unavoidable. Kalibose found it even more lonely than his self-imposed solitude. And there was only one way he could fix it.

"I am sorry," he started, his voice barely louder than the downpour outside. "I have treated you terribly. I was caught up in the despair of my magic not working, and I took it out on you."

She stared at her hands without reply and chewed on her bottom lip. He noticed that they were not wrapped as per her usual morning routine, and he realized with a start that it was possible she had been avoiding him as much as he had been avoiding her. It made him feel even worse.

"I understand if you would rather us part ways as soon as possible. I just wanted you to know that I apologize for my behavior and that I really do wish you the best, although I'm sure you would rather I just shut up and leave you be."

During the last sentence he was already getting up to leave. His stomach was knotted and he couldn't stand her silence at all. She put out a hand to stop him.

"Kalibose, stop. You don't have to go anywhere."

She took a deep breath, and let it out.

"I accept your apology. Although in the future I'd rather you not take your anger out on me."

They both jumped as across the loft, the hippogryph let out a loud squawk. Mae burst into laughter, and it lit up her entire face.

"You've had enough, Steelfeather, you spoiled bird."

Mae's eyes had lost a lot of her seriousness as she turned back to him to explain.

"She's roosting. You can't see it but there's one gigantic egg buried in her nest. She had been restless and not sitting on it properly, so I came up here to keep her company. She likes to hear me sing."

Mae settled back against the crate, her hands clasped around one knee and hay sticking out of her short silver hair. It was loose today, and the humidity made it curl at the ends. It was strange, how no matter where Mae was, she always looked as if she had been here her entire life. Like she was always home.

"I like being up here in the quiet, but to be honest, my voice is starting to give out."

Kalibose just shook his head the idea of giving so much of oneself to another, especially an animal.

"Why are you so nice to everyone all the time? For that matter, why are you so nice to me? I've been absolute shit to you."

"It's not that difficult to choose to be kind to other people, Kalibose."

She dropped her eyes and made a point to untie the laces of her boot and tie them back tighter. Without looking up, she continued in a softer voice.

"Besides, I kind of thought, after all we've been through, that we were friends."

"I—you—oh—okay," he stammered lamely, thoroughly embarrassed with himself. He tried to clear his throat, which had suddenly become tight, and ended up in a coughing fit that he had to get up and walk off. The hippogryph, who had fallen asleep during their conversation, woke up with a snort, ruffling her feathers at him. Mae started to giggle, muffled behind her hand.

"Is that so appalling to you?"

He cleared his throat a final time, but his voice still came out more squawky than he liked.

"I've never really had a friend before. Not really. Even before my banishment, my only friends were my cousins, and we fought more than we got along. So this is kind of a novel thing for me."

There was no way for him to hide his embarrassment, so he sat back down and accepted the fact that his ears were red and there was nothing he could do about it. He still found it difficult to meet her eyes though, and settled on somewhere over her left shoulder.

"I'd, um, like that though. To be friends."

She reached forward and offered her hand in greeting. Kalibose was unsettled by the memory of an early conversation between them, an unpleasant one, where he had flat out refused to take her hand because he was, to be honest, being a prick. He took her hand and shook it with far more enthusiasm than he initially intended, and her smile, when she replied, was very pretty.

"Well today is a good time to start, friend."

* * *

"So what do we do now?"

Kalibose cringed as he poked at his supper with a fork. The question had hung between them while they had together explored the rest of the town. It was there in the traveler's shop where they had looked at every single umbrella available, from red with white polka dots to black and green stripes, and ultimately decided to save their money. It was there in the post office where Mae perched on top of a stool much too tall for her and wrote out a very long letter to her parents that she held out of sight if he tried to peek around her shoulder at it, and mailed it off without one word to what it said. It was there as they ran their way back to the inn, him slinking through the raindrops and still ending up looking like a drowned rat, and her jumping into the puddles and looking like the star-dusted personification of happiness. And now, after fighting through the evening crowd for a place to sit in the suddenly popular bottom floor of the inn, it was the only thing left between them. He dropped his fork with a sigh and pushed his plate to the side. It was dangerously close to the elbows of the next patron but he didn't care too much.

"Here are our options. There is another Alliance post at the very top, named, conveniently, Stonetalon Peak. It's a night elf run druid academy, from what I've heard. It's a long hike, more than twice as far as we've come already. The road there is pretty untraveled, due to the increasingly hostile wildlife on the way. And to be completely honest," here he lowered his voice so that only she could hear it, "I'm not entirely sure if it counts as night elf territory or not, seeing as its a school for the druidic arts. It might be close enough to set off the Mark."

He took out the hand-drawn map and laid it down between them. It was really very rough, and north of Windshear Hold, even more so. That was the area of Stonetalon he was most familiar with, but even he admitted to himself that not only was that more than ten years ago, he had been in a very poor state at that time and his memory probably couldn't be trusted.

"There is no official path out of Windshear Hold to the north. It goes into Horde Territory, and has been strip-mined by the Goblins to the point that the only creatures that can survive there, outside of the Horde, are very crafty. It's a very dangerous area. And, there is only so far I can travel before I have to turn around and go back."

Absently, he rubbed a hand across his forehead, then shoved his hair back down over the hidden Mark.

"I have never had a desire to test how close I can get to the border without this thing going off."

"And you aren't going to." Mae's voice belied a sudden onset of stubbornness. "I mean it Kalibose, you aren't going to get anywhere close. What kind of poor excuse of a friend would I be if I got you arrested?"

"I doubt it would ease your mind to know that the Sentinels wouldn't bother with arresting me. They would just shoot me on sight."

Mae's face looked very pale and she was immediately shaking her head. "Okay, so you are staying here no matter what. I'll just have to plot a path, and as soon as the rain lets up, head out on my own. It's only, what, two days? Maybe three? I can handle it if I stay hidden and be careful. No big deal."

Kalibose chewed on the inside of his mouth. There really wasn't another way around it. This was as far as he could take her without risking his life. This was the point where she needed to continue on to Ashenvale forest and he needed to stay here and wait for a hippogryph to get back to Eldre'thalas. There was no logical reason for him to want to continue, not if he wanted to stay in the land of the living. He tried very hard to hate himself for feeling as if his stomach had dropped out of him and fell into the earth, but all he managed was a kind of breathless ache.

"Will you write me, to let me know you made it alright?" It seemed like such a terribly inadequate thing to say. She smiled at him, obviously not reeling from the lack of air in the room.

"Of course. And I plan on coming back through here, when I am finally done with my adult trials. Maybe we can meet up again, for more adventures?"

"I would like that. But no spiders this time, if it's all the same to you." His half-smirk hurt inside of him, but he wasn't going to show it. _She will be back, you are being a baby._

"You know I'll pass on the spiders as well. But," she leaned forward conspiratorially, "I hear there are dragons in the southern part of Dustwallow. I've always wanted to see a dragon."

"I don't think dragons are better than spiders. They have this annoying habit of setting things on fire."

"We don't have to _fight them_. I just want to see them. They seem like really interesting creatures. And it would make for a good adventure."

At this point she could ask to go dance a jig in front of the Warchief of the Horde and he wouldn't deny it to her.

"Sure Mae, we'll go see the dragons when you come through again."

And so he sat there, making wilder and stranger plans together, until the inn slowly cleared of supper guests and the hearthfire burned low. As they both tried to stifle a yawn at the same time and Mae giggled, he realized the hollow place in him, the place where he hated himself and he knew that Mae didn't _truly_ want to be his friend, had been quiet all evening. _Maybe_, he thought to himself, _it would rain for another two weeks, and she would be forced to stay a little longer._ Maybe the hollow place would be swallowed up completely by sunlight by then.

_Or maybe,_ he thought as he walked her up to her door to bid her good night, making a note in his head where it was, _she would be so tired of him by then she would leave out anyway. _ The thought was weak however, and he was able to squash it completely as he went back to his own room for the night.

* * *

**End Note: This one is a little short, but the original place I wanted to end it was going to be awkward. Which will actually end up being an extra chapter slipped in, so yay for that :).**


	11. Departure

**Author's Notes: The first time I wrote these out, I accidentally deleted them. So, starting again. We are doing pretty good on this story: if we continue at this pace we'll at least get to start Lorel and Tzun's story before the second Winter Veil Special.**

**Ihsan: The design of Windshear Hold was completely off the top of my head, but then when I went to visit it in game to look at a different detail, I realized that I had gotten pretty close: the buildings are all super tall, and the southern ramp is all dirt and goes right into spider territory with a big spider in it.**

**Den of Meade: Kalibose may or may not have my temper, unfortunately.**

**Blacky: That comment completely made my day! Thank you so much! And FINALLY, someone is asking the right questions about Kalibose. I cannot answer them of course, but it's important that the questions are asked.**

* * *

Because fate had never been his friend, the rain started to taper off the very next day. Kalibose scowled at the sunlight that broke through the clouds in patches over his morning cup of coffee. The only thing that cheered him up was that Mae didn't seem too happy at the change in weather either.

"Aw, Steelfeather's egg is supposed to hatch today."

She drummed her fingers on the table of the inn. An obviously hungover patron glared at her and scooted further down the bench. Kalibose watched Mae's face very closely as she deliberated, then slapped her hands on the table in decision.

"Well I can take today to get ready to go, and maybe it will hatch by tonight. Meet me at the stables this afternoon?"

It was funny, how used to being with her he had gotten, that the idea that she would prepare for her journey _by herself_ was jarring.

"Uh, sure."

She flashed him a smile as she skipped out the door. Kalibose scowled deeper at his coffee mug, and wondered how in the world he was going to function the next several months by himself, if the idea of a morning alone was putting him off so much.

* * *

There was only so much time he could waste by himself, and he was early to the stables. She wasn't there yet, but he decided to go up to the loft anyway to wait for her. He could hear, as he approached the back of the stables, a sound that was almost a hum in the air. He could feel it low, vibrating in his bones as he ascended the ladder.

He hadn't given it a second thought since the first time he had found Mae in the loft, but this time, as his head popped over the edge of the hippogryph roost, he felt grossly out of place. The loft might have been built by Kal'dorei hands, but the atmosphere, especially on such an afternoon, was primal. He swallowed as he pulled himself up the rest of the way. Steelfeather was laying next to her egg this time, instead of on top of it. It was a great grey and white mottled thing, far bigger than he expected, but it also appeared more fragile. She had looked asleep, but as soon as he took a step in the direction of the stacks of crates, her head popped up and she was completely alert. Kalibose didn't like the look she was giving him: she may be a tame flying mount, but her instincts were still strong, especially in a mother's role. He deliberated whether to advance or just climb back down and wait for Mae. He took an experimental step towards the stack of crates. Her beady eyes followed him, and the feathers on the back of her neck started to stand up. He froze, and contemplated just how much it would hurt if he had to jump off the loft to flee.

There was a rustling at the ladder behind him, and Steelfeather half stood from her nest to glare at the intruder. Kalibose stumbled back and had to grab a crate to avoid making a hasty exodus to the ground level. To his relief, it was Mae's silver-topped head that popped up over the edge. She struggled for a moment, then hauled two large buckets up onto the platform. Whatever was in them seemed to satisfy the giant bird, and the hippogryph settled back down into her nest with a foul look on her face. Kalibose stepped forward to take one of the buckets as Mae pulled herself up beside him. He wrinkled his nose as an acrid metallic smell hit him; the buckets were full of raw meat.

"Scraps from the kitchen, " Mae explained as she picked up the other bucket. Together they carried them to the corner where they had met and talked before. "For the baby when it hatches."

"They eat meat?" For some reason he had always though of them as herbivores. He eyed Steelfeather with a wary eye.

"Oh yes," said Mae as she settled down onto a crate. "They have to have protein, or they would be too delicate to fly.

The silence spread out over them as they watched Steelfeather preen her feathers. Kalibose felt he should say something, anything, to alleviate this awful feeling of loneliness that was already started to shove in around him. _She's leaving tomorrow, you can talk to her._ He opened his mouth, and tried not to cringe at how pathetic he sounded.

"Did you get everything ready for your trip?"

"I'm all set to leave in the morning." She leaned back against the crates. He noticed that her hands were not wrapped today, which gave him small comfort. He knew that she wouldn't leave without being battle-ready. In the nest, Steelfeather shifted as she settled around her egg protectively.

"I hope it hatches tonight." The excitement in Mae's voice was unmistakeable. "I've always wanted to see a hippogryph hatching."

"I've, uh, never seen one." _And never desired to either,_ Kalibose thought to himself.

Mae continued as if he had not spoken. "I remember when my sister was born. They wouldn't let me be in the room of course, I was only seven, but the air felt just like this. Humming with energy."

It was certainly humming now. The air was thick with it, and it was hard to focus on anything else. It felt as if the entire world had quieted down and waited for the new life to emerge.

"What about you?"

Kalibose startled. He had been so caught up in listening he almost forgot she was there. "I'm the youngest. And I have no desire to see a baby born."

"Do you have brothers or sisters?" Mae seemed to have returned to the stream-of-conscious chatter that had annoyed him so much only a few days ago. Now it felt soothing to have her carry the conversation.

"Both." Kalibose shifted position until he was sitting on the floor with his legs crossed under him. "Three older brothers, one older sister. I haven't seen them at all since I—since I left."

The smile temporarily faltered on her face. "Have you tried writing them a letter?"

"I don't think they would be interested in correspondence." Kalibose fidgeted with the hem of his robes, then made himself smooth them down. He instead settled on snapping to make a spark, then extinguishing it with the other hand.

"We didn't part on amicable terms. My two oldest brothers, Terral and Alfrick, we never got along. They were grown and already working with the Cenarian Circle when I was born. My middle brother, Talrend, acted more like my father than my father ever did. He didn't have a good relationship with our parents though, and he left Darnassus for good when I was nine."

He paused for a moment. He hadn't thought of his siblings much at all in the last fourteen years—he had been more concerned with his magic, and outright survival. But Talrend, he missed. He remembered playing with him and Lorel as a child—running off into the trees to explore, or fishing, and forgetting about life in the Woodstalker household for awhile. Talrend was much older than he was, but he didn't use his age to lord over his younger siblings like the oldest two often did. Instead he was the mentor, the safe place, and often joined in their fun like he was hundreds of years younger.

One of the clearest memories of his brother was when he was seven. He had been playing hide and seek with a group of his cousins. Somehow, he had gotten separated from them, and so no one heard him when he fell into a sinkhole and sprained his ankle. He had lain there for hours, calling for help, crying, until finally he fell asleep in misery. He woke up to the sound of someone calling his name, and he had promptly burst into tears again. Talrend had followed the sound and pulled him out. He had picked him up carefully, mindful of his ankle, so that he was against his broad chest and his legs were behind him. Kalibose remembered, even at seven, to be ashamed of crying, and hid his face in his brother's shirt and was grateful that he didn't have to look at anyone until the healer was brought in to look at his ankle.

"Kalibose."

He glanced up at Mae, blinking and trying to bring himself back to the present. She was biting her lip and looked like she had something to say.

"What?"

She pointed to the ground in front of him. He turned his head just in time to see orange flame spark up from the hay in front of him, and yelping, he slapped his hand down on it. Guiltily, he glanced up at the hippogryph in front of them, who thankfully seemed to be oblivious to her companions up in the roost. He cleared his throat, and brushed the ashes away from his robes. Maybe messing around with fire was a bad idea around all this hay.

"Anyway, I don't know even how to contact him. And my sister Lorel, well she didn't look to happy with me last I saw her."

Mae had a contemplative look on her face as she pushed bits of hay around on the floor.

"I miss my sister. We have always been very close. Right now she is in training to be a Priestess of Elune. She wanted me to come with her, but-I couldn't."

Kalibose glanced at her. For the first time since they had met, he felt that she wasn't being completely honest with him. It didn't settle well in him.

"You couldn't?"

Her eyes did not quite meet his. "It was not my path. This is where I belong."

"In a hippogryph roost?"

"Right now, yes." Mae smiled up at him, and he forgot momentarily that she was obviously avoiding telling him something. "I'd rather be helping people, or in this case, broody hippogryphs, than anything else. So, here I am."

She was interrupted from explaining further by a noise from the nest in the center of the loft. There was a popping sound, then a crack, and Mae exclaimed, "it's happening!" and rushed forward with her bucket. Kalibose followed with much more trepidation. Steelfeather was off the nest completely, and making a noise deep in her throat. It sounded like encouragement, and the baby inside the egg was certainly taking it to heart. He could see the egg rocking back and forth in its protective pile of hay, and slowly, hairline cracks were appearing on its surface. He didn't want to break the moment, but as he crouched down beside Mae, he realized he had no idea what to do.

"So what, we wait until the egg cracks open, then we feed the slimy green bird what's in the buckets? How do we know how much?"

"Purple," Mae whispered back without opening her eyes. She had one hand on the egg and appeared to be listening to it.

"What?"

She opened her eyes, and they seemed to glow brighter than before. "The baby hippogryph will be purple. And it will fall asleep after its first feeding. Then we can slip out, as long as Steelfeather has taken over by then."

He had barely started to wonder how she knew what color the hatchling would be when a loud crack came from the egg, and a piece of it actually started to lift up. In spite of himself, he was curious as to what would happen, and edged a little closer. With a sound that seemed to shake the rafters, the entire egg broke apart into two jagged pieces. Before he could take a step back, a gush of warm fluid soaked the bottom half of his robes, and a struggling, slippery, dark-colored creature fell right into his lap. He froze in horror as it cawed weakly, then again with more strength as it tried to use its claws to climb up his chest.

"Uh, Mae?" He couldn't back up, he couldn't stand, and trying to touch it as little as possible, he pushed it down away from his face. Mae, that traitorous monk, was laughing so hard she was sitting on the floor with tears running down her face. "Would you shut up and get this thing off of me?"

Gasping for air, Mae tried to get up and sat back down, still laughing. "Oh Kalibose, it's just a baby. It doesn't know any better."

Steelfeather paced around the nest, and crooning softly, butted her beak against the baby's neck. Thank Elune, the baby preferred its mother to him, and made a shrill noise as it tried to claw its way over to her. Gritting his teeth, he managed to pick it up awkwardly and put it on a clean part of the nest. He stood and wiped at the front of his robes in vain.

"I'm going to have to burn this."

"Don't be dramatic, it will wash."

Still chuckling, Mae grabbed her bucket and moved over to where Steelfeather was grooming her baby. It squawked when it smelled the food she offered it, and soon was swallowing it down as fast as Mae could put it in its mouth. Mae yelped when the hippogryph nipped her fingers in its eagerness, and with one final swipe at his robes, Kalibose joined her in feeding it. After consuming all of one bucket and part of another, its eyelids started to droop in exhaustion, and Mae got it settled in next to its mother. Steelfeather had groomed it through the entire ordeal, so that now it was a very brilliant shade of fluffy purple. Kalibose wiped his hands off against his robes, figuring that he couldn't do any worse damage to it.

"Well, that was one of the more disgusting things I have ever been a part of," he commented as Mae gathered up the buckets. She shot him a look, still unable to hide her amusement at the darker stains on his otherwise dark robes.

"I guess that's what you get for standing in the way of something being born."

He started down the ladder after her, relieved to feel the tension in the barn had lifted since the egg in the loft hatched.

"Which is not something I ever intend to participate in again. Yuck."

"So say you now." Mae peeked her head out of the barn, then made her way to the back of the inn, where the kitchens were. "Wait until they are your own kids."

"Which, again, is not ever going to happen."

Mae's only response was to throw an entire bucket of rainwater on him, and sputtering, he retaliated in kind, until they were both soaking wet, and his robes were, miraculously, clean.

* * *

The dawn broke clear and bright, without a single trace of the rainclouds that had plagued them the last few days. Kalibose would know- he didn't sleep a wink. He tossed and he turned, until finally he sat at the window in his room and waited until morning. He met Mae down below for breakfast and sat helplessly as she talked about seeing her family and going back home. Her excitement was obvious, and he tried very hard to ignore his own conflicting emotions and be happy for her. The best he could manage was a kind of strained smile that looked more like a grimace as he picked at his food and she chattered on about her town and the people that lived in it.

They paid their tab, and it was there, as they walked out the door of the inn that had been home for the last five days, that the quiet truly descended upon them. Mae's steps got slower until they both paused before the northern gates of Windshear Hold. There wasn't a true path here-just a slightly worn trail that smudged out into nothing as the scattered trees consumed it. Mae stood looking at her feet as Kalibose obsessively scoured the landscape for glimpses of movement, and they met each other's eyes at the same time.

"I guess I should be-" started Mae.

"Just make sure-" started Kalibose.

They both stopped with an awkward laugh. Kalibose cleared his throat and started again.

"Be wary of the harpies. I can't stress that enough. Stay hidden, and if you are attacked, first kill the leader. If you need anything..." and here Kalibose paused. There wasn't any way for her to contact him in the wilds of Stonetalon, and once she passed over into Ashenvale, she was unreachable.

"Just be careful, alright?" He couldn't look at her anymore. He focused his eyes on the ground, lest his mouth run away from him. _She'll be fine_.

"I will, " she answered. Her voice was soft, and he absolutely refused to look up. He straightened his back and bit down on his tongue, because he was an idiot, he was a _fool_, and he was getting worked up over_ nothing_...

And then without warning, she stood up on tiptoe and wrapped her arms around him and he lost his self-berating speech. Instead he hugged her back and closed his eyes, wanting to burn this moment into his skin. Her hair tickled his neck, and he was awash in the scent of her-lavender, fresh air, and more than that, the pervading sense of calm and acceptance that she always gave off.

And then she was gone. She was skipping happily down the dirt path, turning to wave at him as she went. Her silver ponytail bobbed in the wind, and soon she stopped turning back to see if he was still there. She continued on, back to her home, back to her life, and out of his.

He watched, silent and still, as a piece of him wound its way through the trees and finally, out of his sight.

He waited, frozen into a place, a piece of sandstone against the mountain wind to be slowly weathered into nothing. She did not come back.

A bird called up above him, shrill and lonely, and something in him snapped.

"Fuck it," he muttered to himself as he turned and ran back to the inn to pack his things.


	12. Mae

**Author's Notes: This chapter, man. It was a killer. **

**EDIT: I forgot to add, the playlist for this chapter is both Alone Together by Fall Out Boy, and Clarity by Zedd.**

**Ihsan: You must tell me what some of your theories for Mae were, I am very curious. Here in this chapter is not-so-happy Mae.**

**Alaris: Welcome new reader! Thank you so much! Not to be terrible, but I hope this chapter makes you cry as well :D**

* * *

By the time Kalibose had shoved his meager belongings back in his pack and grabbed a handful of provisions, he knew that he wasn't going to make it. It didn't slow him down though, and he ran as fast as he could down the wooden steps, clomping onto the boardwalk, and then squelching through the mud to the back gates of Windshear Hold. Her figure had long disappeared behind the trees just outside of the town, but he pulled his hood back and took out anyway in the direction she had left. It occurred to him, as he ran recklessly through the trees, that he did not have a copy of the map. If he didn't find her, and he got lost, it would be difficult for him to find his way back.

His staff, a constant reminder of his inadequacy, hummed behind him in a thoughtful manner as he searched desperately through the increasingly wild vegetation. In fact, it was the first sound it had made in awhile, and if he were to actually stop and think through it, he might find that it sounded similar to the noise that the mother hippogryph had made to her baby clawing its way out of its shell. Right now all he could do was scan the area for a silver bouncing ponytail and try not to panic at every noise that sounded like it might be feathers rustling.

Running slowed down into walking. Walking turned into turning circles slowly, trying to get his bearings. Everything looked the same in the thick of the trees. Hours passed, wasted as he simply tried to find his way. It was with a mixture of relief and anticipation that he came upon the edge of the forest with no indication that she had even existed as anything more than in his imagination_. _

Limping along slowly, his lungs burning with every breath, he finally had no choice but to leave the meager shelter that the scraggly trees offered. He had searched the entire forest: there was not a sign of life except for the occasional predatory bird, and it made him even more uneasy. The sun was burning low in the sky, painting everything in shades of amber and gold. Kalibose scanned the air above him: not even the vultures were out, and this should be the time that the animals would be most active: the daytime creatures would be nesting for the night, and the nighttime creatures would be waking up. Trying to will energy back into his steps, he started out in a vaguely northern direction.

Hundreds of years ago, the entirety of the Stonetalon Mountain region had been covered in forest. There were still spots of it: the peak itself was still mostly untouched, and some places, like where the arachnids lurked, the trees grew up thick and tall. Then orcs moved into the lands that butted up against the mountains, and trickled into the region like a disease. They opened up a sawmill and lumber yard, and brought in cheap help in the form of goblins. The goblins had no respect for the land except for what they could get out of it, and clearcut the northern section in an astonishing efficient amount of time. Then the harpies took their revenge.

The factories remained standing, and the biggest one on the shores of Cragpool Lake was still in constant operation. Logging was still a lucrative business here, although on a much smaller scale. The harpies did not appreciate the decimation of their territory, and so in turn destroyed everything that had to do with the invaders. They cornered the lumberjacks by themselves and tore them apart. They dropped boulders on to the machinery from great heights. After the factories had been abandoned, they built their nests in the tops of them, to warn others from coming back. Since then, scores of Horde mercenaries patrolled the northernmost mill and travel without a guard was unheard of. The harpies were smart, and they hated all intruders into their territory.

The longer that Kalibose went without seeing any sign of Mae, the more he thought of this. How _stupid_ he had been to let her convince him to travel this road alone. She may be tough, but she was not invincible: all it would take would be one mistake, to drop her guard a little bit, and they would tear her to pieces. _At least,_ he thought to himself as he darted ungracefully between chunks of rock or anything large enough to hide behind, _she was not a magic user._ The thought was sobering as he picked his way north in the growing dark. As soon as they spotted him, they would immediately go for him. As long as he found Mae though, and as long as she was alright-

He stopped in the middle of an open patch of clay dirt. He halted movement so suddenly that his cloak and pack swayed forward and nearly knocked him down. He had just, completely sober, with no alternative influence on his mind, contemplated sacrificing himself for another. He took a shaky breath. This was bad. For the last twenty years of his life, he had been so consumed with taking care of himself. No one cared for him, so he had to. That was the way it was supposed to be, right? So why was she any different? Kalibose mentally berated himself, more than a little unnerved at his line of thought. Was it because she had a pretty smile? Or that she was actually nice to him, when no one else was? Or maybe because he was finally remembering that he was an adult male and sometimes got lonely?

_No._ He spoke firmly to the part of him that he hated, the part that always drug him down in self-loathing. _It is because she is my friend. _

He was pulled out of his introspection by a sound that chilled him to the bone; a far off screech of some great winged creature, and mixed with it, the sharp cry of someone putting up a fight. Forgetting his aching legs and his momentary loss of focus, he immediately took off in the direction of it.

Just over a sloping embankment, he came upon them. Three harpies, two blue and one purple, were screeching and diving at a lone figure between them. It was definitely Mae: she had scratches on her face and arms, and her staff had been broken in half, but still she was defending herself soundly. One harpy flew crookedly with a bent wing, and they looked like they were being cautious in approaching her. They had already had a taste of how fierce she was. The purple harpy hovered above her, and all at once, it was clear what their strategy was—the purple one was keeping her distracted, while the bent-wing harpy wheeled backward, to dive at her from behind.

Without checking the complacency of the Eye of Argus, without even _thinking_, he _blinked_ forward. He caught the attacking harpy with a frostbolt just as she dove forward. She feel heavily against the hard ground, and shattered into several messy pieces. Mae struck the other blue harpy right at the crook between its neck and shoulder with her broken staff, and whirled around just in time to see pieces of the frozen solid harpy roll to her feet. She looked down in shock, and then slowly raised her eyes. Her entire face scrunched up in confusion.

"Kalibose?"

And then the purple harpy struck. Screaming in fury at her fallen sisters, she dove for Mae's exposed back. Time slowed down to a maddening pace as Kalibose called out Mae's name. She turned to defend herself, but it was too little, too late. Kalibose moved instinctively. He _blinked_ right up beside her, a very short distance to be so precise, and without even thinking through the incantation of the spell, he hit the harpy in the face with an arcane blast so concentrated that it blew her back twenty feet. He had no time to marvel at how smoothly his magic had responded to his intent, almost before he even knew it himself. Mae fell to her knees in front of him, gasping in pain.

"Mae," he breathed, and stumbled to catch her. She had dropped the remains of her staff to the ground, and clutched her right arm with her left. The harpy had missed her back, but the shoulder and sleeve of her tunic had been shredded, and there was-_by Elune_—so much blood. For a moment that was all he focused on—crimson running in rivulets down her arm, soaking what remained of her sleeve, and dripping into a growing puddle on the ground. His knees faltered and he dropped to them with her.

_Dark red staining already red clay._

"Oh _shit._" Darkness encroached on the edges of his vision, and finally he realized he was going into shock. He slapped himself soundly in the face, appalled that he would do something so selfish when Mae was injured, bleeding right here in his arms. He bit down on his cheek so hard that it bled, and reset his mind to take care of her, just take care of her, and worry about the rest later. With a good yank, he ripped the rest of her tattered sleeve off of her tunic and balled it up to hold it against the worst of the scratches. He found himself talking as he went, and he knew he must sound like an idiot, but he just couldn't stop.

"Just sit down here Mae, and I will bind your arm. Harpies don't usually compete for food, so we should be safe for a few minutes. Oh fuck, this looks bad-no, not that bad, you'll be fine, I don't think its a major artery, just hold still, sorry this hurts..." and just on and on, as he wound bandages around the worst of the bleeding. Whether other harpies would be in the area or not, it was still late dusk, and they needed to get to shelter before dark fell completely. Mae sat there, her eyes squeezed shut, letting him tend to her, and he missed the first time she whispered his name.

"Kalibose."

"-there, that's tied off the best I can do, now let's get you on your feet and try to find-"

"Kalibose, _stop_."

He glanced down at her, and the look on her face hit him right in the gut. He couldn't even place it, but she was not happy.

"What do you think you are doing here?"

Her words were accusatory. If he didn't know any better, he would think she was _glaring_ at him. He was so startled that he forgot how concerned he had been for her and his snark took over.

"I think I am saving your life, actually. Which you're welcome for."

She shut her eyes as if in pain, but continued the same upset tone of voice.

"You can't be here, Kalibose. Why didn't you stay at Windshear?"

He had draped one arm around her shoulder to help her sit up, but now he dropped it and leaned back from her. Something ugly was bubbling in the pit of his stomach, something that felt all too familiar. He wiped his hands on his robes and stood up, but he was not able to escape the feeling. It clawed angrily at his chest, and he felt like he wanted to vomit.

"Had enough of me then, I see. I'm good for doing what you want, get nasty hippogryph spawn on me, haul around buckets, follow you around like a puppy, but now you're tired of me and that's the way it is."

"What? No!"

Mae shook her head but she was obviously lying, how could she not, how stupid he was to think that she cared about him, that she was his friend. Here she was telling him to go away after having just saved her life. Like the idiot he was, he had trusted someone just for them to show their true colors. It was only his own fault that it hurt so much. He grabbed his pack from where it was laying open on the ground, and missed, then couldn't get it shut properly. His hands were shaking and he hated himself, how weak he was. He finally yanked the cord hard enough that it wouldn't fly open again, and put it on his back. He picked up his staff from where it lay on the ground and gripped it so tight he thought it might splinter, were it not magically enhanced.

"Forgive me then, for wasting your time." He thought to say more, to say something truly hurtful, to show just how much he _did not care_, but his throat closed up and instead he started to pace out a safe distance. Just because he had never created a portal before, didn't mean it had to be that hard. Now seemed like the perfect time to learn. And if he fucked it up and didn't survive the trip? Then he wouldn't care any more.

"Would you stop, look, I'm sorry, just listen a moment-"

"Did it mean nothing then, what you said earlier?" His voice wavered and he _hated it_, he hated it worse than he had ever hated anything in his life. He clenched both hands into fists so tight that sparks flew along the arcane tattoos on his knuckles, but it wasn't enough to make his voice steady.

"Did you not mean it when you said we were friends?"

"Would you just shut up and listen for once?" She stomped her foot angrily at the word "once", then cried out and grabbed at her injured arm. He tried not to care. He tried so hard not to care that he had to physically stop himself from going back to her. He looked at the ground, he ignored her quiet whimpers, and he spoke through gritted teeth.

"It is clear that you do not want me here. I have burdened you too much with my presence, and I'm going to go back to Eldre'thelas now. I hope-" his _fucking voice_. He swallowed. "I hope you make it home safely."

He raised his hands and haphazardly started casting. He had a vague idea that one should picture very clearly the destination of the portal, and he half-assed focused on the parapet high about the ogre arena of Dire Maul. It occurred to him how dangerous it was to open a portal to such a location, but the importance of danger was so ludicrous that he pushed it aside. Telemetry and logistics, cross the ley-lines and travel among them, that was how it worked. He threw everything together into his spell like a soup, so that the swirling energy taking shape before him looked dark and menacing but he just _did not care_. Nothing could hurt as much as he did right now.

"Kalibose, what are you doing? Stop, please, I don't want-"

_BOOM._

The portal exploded, and he was thrown back against the ground. Stars danced in front of his eyes, but he was no worse for wear. He should stand up and rage, he should break his staff in half and set it on _fire. _Instead he sat up, and held his head in his hands in despair. Footsteps approached him, and he could no longer make himself run away from them.

"Are you okay?"

"As the portal did not kill me as I had hoped, I am fine."

"I don't like it when you say things like that."

The tiny tremor in her voice was what finally spurred him to move. He pushed himself to standing, feeling his equilibrium waver as he got his footing.

"Then I guess you don't have anything to worry about anymore. I can walk back just fine, and then I'll be gone. "

"I don't—I don't want you to go." Kalibose didn't intend to stop, but his legs didn't want to listen to him anymore. He couldn't look at her, but he couldn't bring himself to walk away, either.

"Please, just let's go talk, and I will explain. Then if you want to go, you can do whatever you want."

He just breathed. Didn't even try to ignore her voice.

"Kalibose it's dark. Please stay."

He glanced around the immediate area. It was dark. The time to find shelter safely had passed, but as much as he wanted to wallow in his own self-loathing, Mae was still injured, probably still bleeding, and he could not leave her, no matter how much he wanted to run away. He had been avoiding looking at her, but now, in the cover of the dark, he felt it safer. She was still standing, although her face was very pale and she didn't look like she could remain standing for long. Her eyes glowed faintly in the gathering night and it highlighted the dark scratches on her temple and forehead. The bleeding had slowed on her arm, but the claws of a harpy were a filthy thing. The wounds would have to be properly cleaned and bound, and even still, she should see a healer. Worse than all that was the look on her face. There was guilt reflected in her eyes, and absolute defeat in the set of her shoulders. She refused to look him directly in the eye. He had a sinking feeling that if he felt betrayed right now, what she had to say was going to make it worse. But no matter his own misery, no matter what her feelings were, he knew she could not survive in the wilderness like this, and he needed to get her to safety.

Sighing, not even having the energy to curse his own weakness properly, he bent down and picked up the broken piece of Mae's staff, and then her pack. Her eyes met his in a mix of fear and relief as he put an arm around her waist to steady her.

"Come on then, let's find a place to make camp."

* * *

They had to travel significantly west to find a crag of rock that was big enough to provide cover from the creatures that roamed the night. It only gave shelter from above, but Kalibose was able to rig the tents to cover the sides as well. Mae was uncharacteristically quiet as she kept watch during the process. She dug through her pack with one hand as he got the fire going, and produced a pile of clean bandages and an herbal salve. The quiet gave him time to think, and he did everything in his power to remain clinical and detached. Hang the tents. Divide the rations in half. Heat up water, and clean her wounds with a heated cloth. Don't listen to her gasp and don't even think about holding her hand to calm her. As he carefully wound a clean bandage over the worse of the scratches on her arm, she finally cleared her throat and started to speak.

"Do you remember when Archimonde destroyed the world tree?"

It was such an unexpected question that for a moment he had to think it through, that yes, he did actually remember that, a lifetime ago. He tied off the last bandage and sat back on his heels.

"I was nine. I don't remember much about the actual event, but we had to evacuate Hyjal along with everyone else. As my father was the Druid Council Leader, we were some of the first ones out. The night before we left, my brother and my father got into a terrific fight. He had been wanting to leave for weeks, years probably, but he stayed so that he could spend time with Lorel and I. That night, however, he left to help fight against the Burning Legion. Father told him never to come back."

He hadn't thought of that night in a long time. He still remembered how the sky burned like fire, and how they had to leave most of their belongings behind. Talrend had been his favorite person in the world then, but even at nine, he was pretty aware how much his father and older brothers didn't like him. The night he left, Kalibose had hidden his head under his pillow and tried not to listen to them shouting. It must have worked, because when Talrend came in to tell him goodbye, he had been asleep. He barely remembered giving him a tearful hug and then listening as he told Lorel goodbye as well. As soon as Talrend left, his big shoulders blocking the light from the doorway momentarily, he had run to his sister's room and crawled in bed with her. She let him stay until their mother found them that way at dawn when the Sentinels came for them.

Mae nodded. They were still sitting close together, and the flickering firelight couldn't hide the seriousness of her face.

"When I was six years old, I woke up in the middle of the night screaming about a demon that was trying to tear down Nordrassil. I still remember it: everything was fire and burning, and then there was this soothing blue light that consumed the demon and then this empty kind of peace afterward. The fighting stopped, but the Kal'dorei would never be the same."

"How could you know what was going on without being there?"

Her eyes were wide and solemn and they seemed to capture a piece of him and hold it fast.

"The most important question, is how I knew it was going to happen. We are the same age, Kalibose."

Things began to trickle down into place in his mind and he stared at her as she continued.

"I was so distraught after the dream, that even though my parents assured me over and over that there were no demons that big anywhere on Azeroth, and that nothing would ever happen to the world tree as it was blessed by the Dragonqueen herself, I would wake crying every night for weeks. So many people were going to die. People that were so foreign to me I thought they must be from another planet. Three armies would fight and clash and then finally work together to kill the demon and save the world. It was such a huge thing for my mind to wrap around as a child, and I couldn't just let something like that go. Eventually though, I stopped having the dream, and my parents were just thankful that I would no longer tell people in our village that the world was going to end."

Mae picked at the wrappings on her hands. They were covered in red dirt and dried blood and slowly she started to peel them off for the night.

"We didn't live in Hyjal, but in a village between the borders of Hyjal and Ashenvale forest. It was destroyed in the battle, and afterward we relocated to Astranaar. In the meantime, my parents took me to the Temple of Elune to be tested by the priestesses there.

"It wasn't really pleasant. They were apparently astonished at how strong my gift of prophecy was, and wanted to take me to train right away. My parents, however, were worried about deciding my life so early, and insisted that it be my choice to go to the Temple, after I turned fifteen. I will forever be grateful to them for that."

"So...you can tell the future?" It felt terrible to not believe her, but he was skeptical. Mae shook her head.

"Nothing so eloquent as that. Maybe if I had started training when I was nine like the priestesses wanted, and had stuck with it, but as it is, its very unpredictable. I get feelings, and images, but I can't just call on it to tell me what's going to happen the next day or something. But what it does tell me is very reliable. For instance, do you remember when you told me how irresponsible it was for me to trust you, the very first night we met?"

He did recall that, and was acutely aware of how rude he had been that night to her.

"But as soon as I saw your face, I knew you were a good person. And so far, even though you can be um, difficult sometimes, you have not proven me wrong."

Her smile started to make its return, a glimpse of sunlight in a cloudy sky. He was not that convinced yet, though.

"So why didn't you go study at the Temple? Why would you not want to make your gift as strong as possible?"

"It's not that simple, Kalibose. While I was there in the testing process, I got to see some of the prophet priestesses. They were kept secluded from the others, so that their vision would be clear. The things they saw...they weren't happy. Every day they were bombarded with this or that disaster, with war, or famine, and it wore them down. They had no hope. People would come to them, asking for guidance and wisdom, and when they left they looked so defeated, as if all their choice was taken away from them."

Mae's eyes glowed as if they were aflame, instead of the campfire next to them. "How could I do that to someone? You may have your entire fate set out before you, but you still have to choose it. There should always be a choice, and there should always be hope.

"I've always known I wanted to help people, but I don't feel that prophets really help. My parents wanted me to be a prophet, but they wanted to give me the choice to do so. And so I chose another path.

"When I meet people, I can usually see something about them. Sometimes its really small, and sometimes its life changing. But all I do is help what they need, and they can make the choice or not. It's not my business to push them one way or another. That is real free will, Kalibose: that you are allowed to make bad choices as well as good ones."

He wasn't sure that he bought all of that, but his curiosity was sparked, in spite of himself.

"What did you see in me?"

"...I'm not sure. I'm not!" Mae looked up guiltily. "I can tell that you are good, at your core. Everything else is just a muddle, and it's very frustrating."

She made a grab for her cloak awkwardly, and he picked it up and draped it around her shoulders. She pulled it around to cover her injured arm from the chill of the night. She leaned forward as she continued.

"I will tell you what I do know, though. Several months ago, before I even left Astranaar, I had another vision. I don't have complete ones often: most of the time its just a feeling, or a flash, or an odd dream that sticks in my head. But this one was very vivid, and in the middle of the day no less . There is a person, a man, walking. I can't see him because he is entirely in shadow, but he is carrying a heavy burden. He walks into a grove of trees, and then the entire forest lights up like it has been set on fire. It was so bright that I saw stars in front of my eyes afterward, even though it was only a vision."

Kalibose had reserved his belief the entire time she was talking, but now his mouth ran dry. He swallowed.

"What happens to him?"

"I have no idea. But he does not come out of the wood, at least not the same." Mae shuddered, and he couldn't tell if it was from the chill spring night, or by the images that haunted her behind her eyes. She pulled her cloak tighter around her, and she stared at the fire as she spoke.

"When I first met you, I thought that you might be him. You were the first person I had met in my wanderings that had sparked something in my head, and I was so excited I was going to find out what completed my vision. But after the fight with the ogres, where everything just went so badly, and I broke my ankle, I gave up on it. I'd been wandering for a couple months with very little direction, you were the only person that I'd met and it was quite obvious you didn't need my help."

She was so serious still. It was unnerving, after the last few weeks of her happy-go-lucky optimism. He decided that he didn't like this side of Mae that much. It bothered him that this might be the true side of Mae, and one that he was not familiar with at all.

"In the last few days however, and even since you told me about your banishment, I have been getting the idea that you might still be that person. It's just a niggling thought, so far below my consciousness I can't focus on it if I try." She sighed as she tucked her feet under her cloak. The night was growing much colder around them, but Kalibose was not interested in getting his bedroll out yet or for any kind of sleep.

"Now, years later, I regret not honing my skill, when I am merely plagued by curiosity." Again, that flash of sunlight on her face.

"But, and this is very important," her entire demeanor changed, and to his discomfort she reached out her uninjured hand and took his. It took a lot of effort not to flinch away from her.

"The entire feeling I got through the vision, more than anything else, was a feeling of sacrifice. This person, whoever he is, was sacrificing himself for something. I don't know what your path is on this journey or the next, and right now I can't even be sure of mine, but please, promise me that you will not throw your life away."

He was swept away by the intensity in her voice, but more than that by the idea that someone valued his life, not just as a random person, _but his life specifically_. By Elune he didn't even value his life that much. _Or at all._

He didn't answer at first, and she spoke again, her voice tremulous in its desperation. "Please Kalibose. Promise me this."

He cleared his throat and thought carefully before he spoke. "Is this why you didn't want me to follow you to the border of Ashenvale? You were afraid I'd walk right over and be killed?"

"Yes. That's the only reason."

"Then promise me this." He swallowed down his own reservations, and took her uninjured hand in both of his. He spoke all in a rush, before he could lose his nerve.

"Tell me the truth. That you mean every word you say, and that we are friends, and I am not a fool for caring for you enough that I want you to make it back to your home safely. And, that when you are done with whatever you are doing in Astranaar, that we can take another trip together? Without prophecies, or stupid quests for crystals, or any of the other bullshit we've run into here. Because," he had to clear his throat again, because his voice refused to stay steady, "I can't do this, Mae, if you are lying to me. If you really don't want me around, you have to tell me now."

Her face was the brightest ray of sunshine against his dark soul. "I promise. Everything I have said tonight is truth. I'd be thrilled to have you go with me the rest of the way to the border, as long as you do not step over."

"Then I promise. I will stay on this side."

She leaned forward suddenly, and planted a kiss on his cheek. It was very chaste, but he hastily dropped her hand and scooted backward two feet. She giggled at his consternation, but he was not fooled: her cheeks were flushed and he did not think it was entirely from the fire.

"Thank you. And now let's make some tea and talk about something a little lighter, okay?"

"Uh, sure Mae, whatever you want." He scrambled to dig the coffeepot out of his bag and by the time he got it filled with water and set on the fire, Mae had found her tea and set it to steeping.

It was late, his legs were still aching from his panicked search earlier, and they were both exhausted. But the idea of sitting up and talking late into the night until the stars were their only companions seemed like the best thing in the world.


	13. Eye of Argus

**Author's Notes: I hope you like plot, because here's some plot with some plot on it. And some plot thrown in on top. **

**Comment Replies: Ihsan, save that breath, you're going to need it after this chapter.**

**Bohmz: Your description of Kalibose is spot on! How terrifying it is, to allow oneself to become vulnerable by caring for another. **

**Melana: Welcome! As you will come to see, I am a terrible person who tortures her characters relentlessly. How else will they get molded into what I need them to be? **

* * *

The dawn broke cold, colder than it had the entire trip. The fire had died down into coals, and the still air held the promise of ice. Kalibose woke with a start as was usual, and brought his feet up under the blankets. He heard a rustle and a sleepy sigh beside him, much closer than they had fallen asleep last night. All he could see of Mae was a glimpse of her silver hair escaping the cocoon of her bedroll. Sometime in the middle of the night they had both huddled together for warmth. His instincts warred with him—shy away from the familiarity, or trust someone who he wanted to trust. Finally he compromised: he sat up to get the fire going again, but he did not move away.

He watched the fire thoughtfully as it sputtered to life in front of him. It was interesting, how the course of nine days could change a person. He, who never needed or desired anyone, now wanted companionship like nothing else. His magic was a need, both physical and mental. He knew that he was addicted and he accepted that. This felt like a far scarier affliction though-a person could recover from a physical addiction. Sometimes there was no recovery from an addiction of the heart.

A little startled at how his thoughts were going, he pushed them aside and instead focused on the here and now. They were somewhere in the middle of the northern half of Stonetalon. He had gotten horribly turned around in his desperate search for Mae yesterday, and he wasn't one hundred percent sure where they were at right now. He was pretty sure they were close the to river, but that was his only frame of reference. The closer he got to the border of Ashenvale, the more vague his memories were. Mannerel had found him on the south side of the Lake, near the remaining Horde Lumber Mill. That had been when he was closest to death, and he hadn't even been sure at first that the man nwas real or another hallucination. The jolt of mana that he had given him had been very real, though, and too much for his weak body—he'd been revived, but he immediately vomited and had been jittery for days. Still, the time after that had been more coherent, and he would have to be very mindful of exactly where the border lay and not to get too close.

Kalibose rubbed the scar on his forehead thoughtfully. It was instinct for him to cast the glamour now—he even did it when he was asleep. In truth, he wasn't even sure what the scar looked like, with how consumed he was with concealing it. Even though everyone at Eldre'thalas was practicing magic illegally, most of them were not officially banished, and even though he had explained to anyone who had listened why he had the Mark, some of them still referred to him as a criminal. The glamour would not hide the Mark from anyone who had the gift of magic, not completely, but at least it was less noticeable.

Beside him, Mae finally started to stir. She groaned as she rolled over onto her back, and instead of popping awake like normal, she laid there for a moment, blinking her eyes.

"How are you feeling this morning?"

"Like I went ten rounds with a Pandaren prizefighter. You?"

"I think my legs might have mutinied and ran off sometime in the night, but I will live."

He offered her his arm and helped her sit up. She hissed through her teeth at the movement, and favored her bound arm as she shoved her silver hair out of her eyes. He gave her a moment to wake up and busied himself with finding his coffeepot. Mae might prefer tea, but a strong brew of coffee was what he needed this morning. He set it bubbling, then checked on her. She was pulling the edges of the bandages back and wincing.

"How does it look?" He knelt beside her and helped her unwind the rest. It did not look very good—it had obviously oozed all night, and her entire arm was pink. It was too early to tell if it was infected, but it didn't look like a clean, healing wound either.

"Well that looks terrible," commented Mae wryly. "Can you set some more water boiling, please?"

Cleaning the half-closed cuts this morning took even more time than it had last night. Kalibose did not feel like he was even helping, at this point.

"Mae," he started as he gently wound clean bandages over the newly washed scratches. "I think you should see a healer for these. Harpy claws carry disease, and I don't think we got this clean enough."

Instead of answering, Mae chewed on her lip thoughtfully. "How's the one on my face look?"

Kalibose brushed her hair out of the way. The scrapes on her temple were already closed and starting to heal.

"It looks clean. It's not nearly as deep as the others though."

He started again. "I'm not sure how far we got yesterday, but it can't be more than halfway to the border. We're not on a timeline here—we can go back to Windshear, get you healed, and maybe someone has dropped off a hippogryph and you could catch a flight."

Mae's face looked troubled as she thought it through. She made a big show of not letting him help her with her coffee or pulling her cloak up around her shoulders.

"If we are halfway to the border though, it's just as far to keep going."

"Mae-"

"-and I've already written my parents and told them I was on my way home. I don't want them to worry."

"They will worry a lot more if your arm gets a serious infection and is rendered useless."

Mae's face was set in far more stubbornness that he thought it could be, but Kalibose was very obstinate as well. There was a brief, tense stare down, and to be honest, Kalibose was surprised to see her drop her eyes first.

"Okay, so I have a feeling that we are supposed to go on."

"A feeling?"

"Yes. It's important that we go on."

Kalibose was struck with understanding.

"You mean a_ feeling_." He tapped the center of his forehead with one finger. She nodded.

"Yes, a feeling. It's hard to describe it. This is the way we're meant to go."

"How strong is it?"

"Very."

Kalibose deliberated for a moment.

"Well I can't say I agree. But I guess agreement has nothing to do with accuracy, correct?"

Mae's face relaxed into relief. "I'm sorry. It pops up at the worst time sometimes, but it's usually not wrong."

He started to roll up his blankets.

"Then we will go on. But if your arm gets infected, we drop everything and go find a healer. No arguments."

"Agreed." Mae put away the rest of their breakfast with one hand. "To be honest, I'd rather have this healed up as well. But this is one of the strongest feelings I've had since I started my final trial. I cannot ignore it."

He wasn't sure if he agreed with her, but as he continued to pack up camp, he didn't see how they had much of a choice.

They set out soon after, Kalibose grumbling about carrying Mae's pack and Mae holding onto her broken staff, just in case. It was obvious that the scratches from the harpy hurt her, but she was determined to keep going: in fact she led the way with as much confidence as possible. Kalibose on the other hand, still felt raw inside from the night before. He was a little embarrassed that he would react so strongly to Mae wanting to go her own way, and he was exhausted with trying to figure it out. He would get her to the border, and then she would come back to him of her own accord. She had promised, and that was all he could hold on to. In the meantime they had the environment to deal with.

As they headed in a vaguely northern direction, Kalibose kept a careful watch. They kept to clusters of rocks and scraggly trees as much as possible, and while Kalibose saw a few winged figures lazily turning circles in the sky, they were not attacked by harpies again. Perhaps word had spread that they had taken out the previous pack yesterday evening, and they were being cautious. With any luck however, they would make it to the border by late this evening, and Kalibose was already formulating a plan on what he would do afterward. The checkpoint right before the official road into Ashenvale was technically, supposed to be neutral. He might be able to procure a mount there, although his lack of paperwork and criminal status might hinder that, unless it was goblin-ran. He mentally calculated the remains of his coin purse as they passed the first abandoned lumber mill.

Apprehensively, Kalibose scanned the top. There was obviously a harpy nest tucked into the rafters, but it looked like an old one. The soft grasses and branches used to form the hollow of it looked dried and falling apart, and there were hardly any feathers in it to mark territory. A ripped and bloody Horde flag hung sideways off the edge. Kalibose suppressed a shudder as he and Mae hurried past. The fact that they had left it there before moving on was telling just who had possession of this part of the valley.

The going was slow. Mae was obviously in a lot of pain, although she tried not to show it. Kalibose's legs ached from the desperate run the day before, and neither of them were talkative or cheerful as they trudged slowly north. Fording the river was hard: Kalibose went first, taking all of the gear with him. He then went back and walked Mae across. She made a feeble attempt to swat him away from helping her, but the currents pushed her into him almost as soon as she stepped in. As they stood on the other side and attempted to wring the dirty water out of their clothes, Mae sighed and looked around.

"This has not been my finest hour."

Kalibose was too on edge to joke around with her.

"You wanted to keep going."

He handed over her broken staff, and they continued.

Sometime after noontide, they came upon another abandoned lumber mill. This one was bigger, and didn't look nearly as rundown as the others. They approached it cautiously, but Kalibose could not see any harpy activity in the rooftops. For some reason that made him more uneasy than ever, and he kept his ears open as they gave the building a wide berth.

They were nearly past it, and Kalibose turned to ask Mae to consult the map, when he heard it. The tiniest, quietest zip that he had ever encountered, and he threw an arcane bubble around them as he flung himself around. A crossbow bolt bounced off of the shield, and Mae yelped in surprise. From the darkened upper level of the lumber mill came several more bolts, and they each rebounded off the bubble, pushing Kalibose backward as he held it steady against them.

"Mae you have to run," he whispered to her through gritted teeth. She slid her broken staff to her back.

"Go!"

Kalibose flung a frostbolt at the Horde camping out in the lumber mill, but it was a long distance and he couldn't actually see where they were. He knew he would miss, and as he turned and ran as fast as possible, he just hoped it would give them enough time. Mae was off like lightning in front of him, zig-zagging through the scrubby bushes and the abandoned mecha-shredders. He kept her in his peripherals as much as possible: he was trying like hell to at least delay their attackers if not stop them completely. He turned and threw a wild arcane blast: it exploded a piece of machinery, but missed their assailants. Through the smoke pouring out of the burning remains, he finally caught a glimpse of them: there were four of them. Two great hulking orcs, one smaller orc, and a nasty-looking troll with a huge sloping forehead. One of the bigger orcs was in front, and seemed to be in charge: the other one had the crossbow. They pursued them with an angry shout, and Kalibose tried to push his legs to go faster. He caught up to Mae, who had slowed considerably from her beginning burst of speed. He pushed her behind a crag of rock and they both ducked as several projectiles, crossbow bolts or something else, ricocheted off the top of rock and showered them with pebbles. He took in her appearance with a sinking feeling: Mae would not be able to outrun them. She was leaning against the rock, gasping for breath with her eyes screwed shut in pain. She was holding her injured arm tightly and he could see where the scratches had torn open and blood was now soaking through the bandages. He winced when he saw it, but there was no time to stop.

"Sorry Mae." He grabbed her uninjured shoulder and _blinked_ them as far as he could push it without wasting all of his mana at once. They landed stumbling, Kalibose's head reeling from the drain on his resources. Mae cried out as they landed, but she immediately choked it down, and without being pushed, kept running.

The Horde shouted from much farther behind them, and crossbow bolts hit the ground as they ran. Kalibose desperately went through plans in his head as they approached another row of abandoned mechashredders. They ran behind them, and Kalibose pulled Mae around the corner of an equipment building. He held her tight, and they both tried to slow their panicked breathing enough to not be heard. Kalibose felt his body try to fight him for the mana he was using: he was obviously not getting anything from the crystal right now, and in desperation, he prepared an arcane blast that he hoped was big enough to at least take out one of their attackers. He held it, waiting, until he heard pounding footsteps slow between the buildings. The orcs and troll shouted words back and forth in their guttural language as they approached the line of mechashredders, and he caught Mae's eye and jerked his head further north, away from the building.

"When I throw this, keep running, and do not stop. Not for anything."

She nodded. The footsteps grew closer, and slowed more. They were searching for them. Kalibose counted in his head, forced himself to take slow breaths in through his burning lungs. They were so close he could hear their boots crunching against dry clay dirt. He reached down with his free hand and clasped Mae's hand. She met his eyes, concern starting to flood her face. He squeezed her hand and dropped it.

"Go."

He stepped out in full sight of their assailants and with a harsh cry, threw the arcane blast. It took almost all the rest of his mana, and he nearly fell to his knees as he watched it hit the row of mechashredders. He heard Mae's footsteps hitting the ground, taking her to what he hoped was safety. The arcane blast was impressive for what little mana he had left, and it hit exactly where he meant it to: at the feet of the nearest shredder. It exploded, sending all of them crashing down. It was meant to crush the Horde, but with a terrible sinking feeling, he realized that he had waited too long: they had been close enough they jumped out of the way of the flying pieces of machinery. He forced himself to turn around, made himself take off running on wobbling legs and vision blurring in and out.

_Run, you fucking idiot. If they kill you, they will kill Mae as well. _

He rubbed a hand roughly across his eyes to see clearly, and far too soon, ran right into Mae. He grabbed her to keep them both from falling and shook his head to clear it.

"Mae, what the..._oh fuck_."

The lake. The last functioning lumber mill was situated at the waterfall that poured down from the mountainous border of Ashenvale into Stonetalon, but after that it formed into a large, polluted body of water. Lake Cragpool stretched out to either side of them as far as he could see. They were completely blocked in.

Kalibose turned around, the movement making him dizzy. Stupid, fucking, lack of mana and stupid staff that was nothing more than a hunk of wood with a rock on it. He shook his head again and spotted their attackers just as the troll raised something up to eye level. A loud bang echoed off of the lake water behind them, and Mae screamed in pain. Kalibose grabbed for her in blind panic just as the troll whooped in victory. He held her with one arm and begged, he pleaded with anyone listening, for his mana to come back, for him to have enough to kill the men in front of him.

All of the world zoomed in onto one point, then greyed out into nothing. Kalibose blinked. The Horde, Mae, even the landscape and the lake had vanished. He turned in a slow circle-or at least he thought he did. There was absolutely no frame of reference, both around him, and internally. He felt like he was floating upside down in space.

His heart was still pounding in his head and adrenaline surged through his veins with no where to go.

"Mae!" he screamed. His panic had lessened momentarily in the wake of his confusion, but now it came back full-force and he tried to pull from the dregs of his mana to blink, conjure an arcane blast, anything. There was _nothing_ inside of him. It was like he had never had any mana at all.

"Mae!"

_She is safe, night elf_. A low voice, so quiet that it only felt like a vibration, filled his head. He whipped around, trying to find the source.

"What the fuck did you do? Where am I?"

_I think it is time you and I officially met_.

In the vacancy of anything recognizable around him, there emerged a light so brilliant, so sudden, that Kalibose covered his eyes and cried out in fear as much as he did in pain.

_My apologies, night elf. I have not taken my true form in a long time. _

The light dimmed behind his fingers, and cautiously he peeked through the gap in between them. There was a hovering beacon of light right before his eyes. As his eyes adjusted, it dimmed further, until it took the form of something that he would not ever have expected. more Even so, he did not trust it: anything that could take him completely out of his plane of existence was not to be trifled with.

"Who are you?"

The voice sounded different now that it had a semblance of a physical form: it was less vibration, more of a chiming in the background of the voice that he was not entirely sure how he could understand.

_I have many names. To some I am merely a Keeper. To some I am the manifestation of Light itself. If I were whole, I would be what the Exiled Ones call a "naaru". My name is K'vaat._

"You are the Eye of Argus."

_I am merely a shadow of my former self, which broke off when the Exodar crashed into your planet. What others have since called me is irrelevant._

When before the voice was completely void of emotion, Kalibose couldn't help but detect an iota of personality behind the being that called itself K'vaat: it did not have a high opinion of the events that had transpired since the exodus of the draenei.

"Wait a minute." Kalibose put both of his hands up to his temples. He could at least feel that. "Why are you telling me this now? We are literally in the middle of running for our lives, and Mae is still back there. Why did you pull me out, and not her? I need to help her!"

His panic seemed to be this tremulous thing, that wavered between confusion and anger. Right now, it was all anger. Anger at being pulled away from Mae when she was injured, anger at his mana source deciding to take off whenever it wanted, and more than a little scared that when he did make it back to her, that he would be powerless except to hit an orc over the head with a staff. He felt like he was simmering inside the ridiculously grey world around him.

"You know, if you wanted to jump ship, you could have done it at a _fucking_ more convenient time. Send me back."

The light in front of him pulsed, and he got the feeling that if it had been able to, K'vaat would have sighed loudly.

_Right now, I am speaking to you outside the current time line. While we are here, everyone you were with will not even realize you were gone. You are not here in physical form. You will be returned to the exact instant you left._

The naaru made another, extraneous chiming noise that Kalibose could distinctively feel as impatience.

_Does that satisfy you, night elf?_

"Not in the slightest. What do you want?"

_I wish to, as they say, strike a deal._

That was not at all what Kalibose expected to hear and it briefly took the wind out of his sails.

"I don't—that doesn't even make any sense. If you are a naaru, even a shadow of one, I can't keep you here. You can leave whenever you want."

_That may be correct in essence, but it is not what I desire._

The air around him had been so vacant, so filled with grey nothingness, that when images started flashing in front of his eyes, they commanded his entire attention. They were so quick several had come and gone before he realized what he was seeing: the naaru was relating to him what had happened to it once K'vaat had broken off from the rest of the Exodar. There was a goblin with an oily grin, his face distorted by the angles in the crystal. The goblin tried to take over an entire town with the power of the Eye, and K'vaat instead redirected the spell to combust him into messy bits. The flashes grew faster: Kalibose caught glimpses of other owners, of creatures and humanoids that had tried to subjugate the Eye and use it for terrible things, and each time, K'vaat had prevented it. The images all blurred into one picture, and then he saw what had to be himself: it was a night elf with a pale face, stringy blue hair, his visage distorted into a grimace as he tried to overcome the Eye in the ogre compound. Kalibose cringed. When compared to the other finders of the crystal, he was not that different: his eyes shown with greed and determination, and he wanted it for his own selfish needs. The flashes grew slower, and hovered on events that he didn't understand: it showed him helping Mae out of the cave to safety. It showed them traveling through the southern half of Stonetalon together: Mae's happy face almost painful to look at. He saw himself step in front of Mae and confront the giant arachnid at the base of Windshear Hold, and his figure was truly intimidating to behold: his eyes crackled with abundant mana, power surged through his fingerprints, and admittedly, he was a little impressed with himself there. It was in that memory though, that he began to realize the purpose behind what K'vaat was showing him. When he stepped in front of Mae, he was determined, he was confident, but he was protecting her. As soon as he got a taste of the power flowing from the crystal, his face changed: he was greedy. He wanted more. He craved that power like nothing else. And that was the exact instant when K'vaat took it away. Kalibose stood up straight and looked away from the memories that K'vaat was projecting in front of him. He didn't need to see his hurried rush away from Windshear Hold after Mae or the fight with the harpies or even his failed attempt at portal suicide.

"You don't like being used for selfish reasons."

The naaru chimed approvingly.

_You are only beginning to understand. A naaru must always serve the Light. It is what we were created to do. A naaru that falls from the Light is a terrible, pitiable thing. In our native form, it is easier to avoid falling. We can exist for millennia in a suspended state, and have no fear of being pulled into darkness. In this mortal realm, especially trapped in this partial state that I am, we must actively work towards the Light and cannot be idle. When you first tricked me into joining with you, I was prepared to deal with you like the others: at the earliest convenience, redirect one of your spells to end your life. But then you did what no one else did: you showed compassion for others, even if it hurt you to do so. _

_I have admittedly had my doubts about you, night elf. When your thoughts drifted away from the Light, when you desired to use my power to hurt those that did not hurt you first, I did not relent. You have earned my respect more than anyone else, however, and so I wish to speak to you as equals, and offer a mutually beneficial agreement. _

Kalibose was still reeling from the realization of how horrible it was to see himself act in such deplorable ways. He had learned early on that no one else was going to look out for him. He had to look out for himself. This was survival; this was smart. And yet K'vaat had just shown him, in no uncertain terms, how close he had come to death just for those very reasons. In that moment, no matter how much he had previously desired an unending power source, he felt himself no more worthy of one than a smudge of dirt on his boot.

"I don't—I think you could find a better person to strike a deal with."

The naaru chimed wordlessly, somehow drawing closer. Kalibose felt like he was being examined from the inside out and flinched away from it.

_You do not agree with my opinion of you._

There was a finality there that he wasn't sure he expected. Kalibose did not argue with the being's words though.

"I just think if you are looking for someone to walk in the path of the Light, you would be disappointed in choosing me."

_I am not here to flatter you, night elf._ The words were laced with impatience. _ It is not your past deeds that I am interested in so much, nor your tendency towards selfishness. I see in you a capacity for kindness. I see you sway towards the Light much more than you think you do. I will not exaggerate your want to help others, but the potential you have is great and I feel that with honesty between us, an agreement could be reached. _

Kalibose did not agree with the naaru, not even a little bit, but he at least could recognize persistence when confronted with it.

"What are the terms?"

_I will join with you in full power. You will have use of my energy as often as you need it. This bond is semi-permanent: it can be broken, but at great cost to both of us. I will stay with you until your death. _

"And the catch?"

_You will not use my power for evil. I retain the ability to stop you if you try, although I will not be able to take your life anymore. The power does have its limits: because of the confines of my ability to manifest on the material plane, I cannot do anything strictly of my own accord. In other words, I can do nothing that you yourself cannot already do. _

"And will you help me save Mae?" Out of anything else, that was all he could find to justify this.

_When we return to the current time line, the bond will be complete. My power is yours. _

"Then do it." Kalibose pulled himself up straight, and if he had had any idea where the naaru's face was, he would have met his eyes confidently. "If you will help me save Mae, then that is all that matters."

_Done. _

The world rushed back around him instantly. Kalibose felt power flood into his body: every pore, every nerve ending, the hair on his head, everything was filled with energy. He breathed out hoarsely, laughed in triumph. _He was invincible_.

Mae gasped beside him. In just that instant, he remembered why he now had this power, and holding onto her tightly, he turned his focus on the members of the Horde who had stopped advancing and were now watching him warily. He drew everything up inside of him that he could, and intended to send out an arcane explosion that would knock the Horde off their feet. He greatly over-estimated his amount of control however, and the shockwave that rebounded when the spell hit his enemies was so intense he was thrown backward violently. The last thing he saw was muddy lake water closing over his head as he struck the bottom and then he saw nothing else.

* * *

**Everyone hold your breath.**


	14. Cave

**Author's Note: Wow, that last chapter got a lot of publicity! I appreciate everyone's comments so much and I didn't leave you hanging too long :).**

**Review Replies: Ihsan: How is he not going to drown indeed? Also yes, I wanted the naaru to not be too powerful. Powers without limitations make for poor story-telling, IMO.**

**OneInsomniaticHoosier: Thank you! Cliffhanger averted :).**

**Bohmz: It will take some getting used to! **

**Melana: How else do you know what they are made of? **

**Rio's Desire: Welcome to the crazy train! We are actually almost finished with this story: if you'd like to see more of Kalibose and his family, check out the Scepter contiuum.**

**Okay, so it's been brought to my attention that I have a few halfway decent pics of these two on my deviantArt now, but my FF readers don't know about them. Be kind, I am a very beginning artist! I do have a bunch of old character designs for both Outcast and Scepter there, as well as character sheets and other bonus material. My username on dA is zarabethedraws. Stop by and say hello!**

* * *

Something was hitting him. No, someone was hitting him. They pounded on his chest but he wasn't there, he was sleeping. He was so far away that he could be in another universe. In fact, maybe he was in a difference universe. One where there was no pain, no blood running down the side of his face, and no burning gaping hole where his lungs used to be. They hit him again, shoving both hands together and pressing in on his chest. All at once he was aware of several different things: one, that the person hitting him was trying to get him to breathe, two, that said person was crying out his name, and three, that he was going to vomit. He expelled what felt like gallons of dirty lake water until his throat and nose burned. He was rolled onto his side, and he curled up in a ball as he gasped for air. They thumped him on the back repeatedly, and again he vomited up another gallon of lake water. Almost immediately he slipped into darkness again.

* * *

His head cracked into the wall of something hard. There was a mumbled "sorry" and then he was slowly drug along, scraping against pebbles and twigs. His chest hurt so bad he felt like it had been kicked in by some kind of ogre. He took in a deep breath and hacked up spittle as he groaned around the pain in his chest.

"Just-hold-still." Each breathless gasp was punctuated by a yank as he was drug further into darkness. He flailed around inside his mind, thinking that he should be bothered by the fact that he was being manhandled like this, but he couldn't even get his eyes open. They, like everything else on his body, felt bruised and swollen. Being conscious hurt. He stopped fighting it, and relaxed back into darkness.

* * *

"Ouch!"

He startled, and regretted it immediately. His head felt like a ton of lead. There was a crackling noise, small, and the rustling of twigs and leaves. He could almost make out a foul, smokey smell filtering in through his abused airways.

"How do you do this so easy?" It was Mae. Her voice sounded off, raspy-sounding, like she was speaking through a mouthful of gravel and had swallowed some.

_Mae._

The events right before blackness had taken over flooded into his mind. They had been running from the Horde. Mae was still injured from the harpy attack and they were just trying to get away with their lives. They had been trapped by the lake. Then-then the troll had shot her.

He had to wake up. He had to sit up and see her with his own eyes. He tried first to lift his head and groaned as a wave of nausea hit him. This felt like a mana withdrawal. He felt a hand on his shoulder, pressing him down to the ground again.

"Stay put, I'm getting the fire started."

If she was able to start a fire, if she was talking, she had to be fine, right? Unconsciousness crept in on him again, and with reluctance, he gave in to it.

* * *

When next he woke he was warm and dry. He immediately tried to open his eyes: he wasn't going to give in until he made sure Mae was safe and unharmed. He saw only black. He blinked, starting to feel alarmed. The second time he opened his eyes he discerned shadows against the blackness of the ceiling. He tried turning his head: that triggered pain so sudden he felt nauseous. He made a breathless noise as he gritted his teeth. Instead of looking around, he tried speaking instead.

"Mae?"

There was a sleepy noise, and movement beside him. He tried to reach a hand out to her and realized he was bound securely by a blanket. He cleared his throat and called for her again.

"Mae? I can't move."

"That's because you wouldn't hold still."

Her voice still sounded rough, and more than a little tired. With a groan she got up, and by barely tilting his head he could see she had been asleep beside him. Her hair was a tangled mess, there were dark circles under her eyes, and she looked almost pissed off at being awake, but he had never been so glad to see her. With some difficulty she sat cross-legged beside him and peered into his face.

"I think you have a concussion. I really don't know anything about healing though, so I hope you didn't break your neck as well."

He tried to swallow and found his throat dry, which felt like the worst kind of irony.

"What happened?"

"To be honest, I was hoping you could tell me. All I know is you kind of blanked out for a second, then all of a sudden you stood up straight and your eyes glowed bright blue. It was a little frightening, actually. Then you threw something at the ground that exploded and knocked us both into the lake."

His staff. The Eye of Argus that was actually a naaru named K'vaat. Everything was coming back to him now and it was exhausting. He started to close his eyes again and forced them back open.

"Are you okay?"

"I'll live." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm. "That troll was thankfully, a terrible shot. Just a glancing blow. He hit the arm the harpy got though. It hurts, but nothing's broken as far as I know."

Unconsciousness was a persistent mistress, and he struggled against it even as he was sinking.

"Hey Mae? You're amazing, you know that?"

He felt her smooth his hair back from his forehead. "I know."

* * *

"-how long a person can go without drinking but twenty-four hours is long enough. Wake _up_, Kalibose."

He had started awake at her moving him around, and now he groaned as she carefully held his neck steady while she shoved blankets under his shoulders. It was lumpy, and she was obviously dissatisfied with it, because she pulled them out again until he was laying flat.

"This would be a lot easier if I had both my arms to work with," she muttered to herself. Kalibose struggled against the blankets confining his arms.

"Let me loose, and I will help."

She unwound the blanket wrapped and tucked around his upper body, and he flexed his arms. Tensing his neck muscles, he sat up as carefully as possible. Cautiously, he turned his head slightly from side to side. His neck felt strange, and stiff, but he would assume much more pain if it were broken. He grasped his chin with one hand and the back of his head with the other and gritting his teeth, pulled it. His neck popped loudly and instantly felt better.

"By Elune, I thought you broke it." Mae started laughing, this breathy, nervous laughter that broke into a coughing fit afterward.

"It was either going to fix it or break it." Kalibose stretched his shoulders and neck. It hurt, but not like before. His vision was better, too. He glanced around them: they were in a cave, far enough from the entrance that he couldn't see it. There was a fire built up beside him, somewhat haphazardly and he resisted the urge to fix it. He still felt jittery inside and nauseous: he was definitely facing mana withdrawal. He took the cup offered from Mae and took a drink before he continued speaking.

"Where's my staff?"

"All of your things are over there." She indicated the wall on the other side of the fire, then waved her hand at him frantically as he started to get up. "Wait, Kalibose-"

He shoved the blanket out of the way just as he realized that was the only thing he was wearing and he yanked it back up to his chest. Mae peeked at him through her fingers, her cheeks red.

"Sorry, everything you had on was soaked. I'll bring you your clothes." As she stood to cross the cave, he noticed that she had new bandages added on to the older ones. None of them looked very clean anymore, and she was favoring her bad arm far worse than before. She pointedly turned from him and set the kettle on the fire as he threw his clothes on as quickly as possible. Just that much movement exhausted him, but as soon as he was dressed, he grasped his staff. Instantly he felt mana return to him: pure, sweet, and it filled up the hollow feeling inside of him. It was such a relief to be able to trust something like that finally, that he did not have want burning through his veins and he could put his focus on something more important. He was still exhausted, but since his mana was replenished, he gave himself an extra boost so he could help Mae. He sat beside her and first adjusted the fire, so that it burned evenly and would boil the water effectively. She caught his eye and although her face still looked worn out, he saw a glimpse of her smile.

"It is _hard_ to get a fire started properly. I'm sure its a complete mess. But its warm at least, and it still makes tea." She said all of that in a rush, then started coughing again. He frowned as he took the kettle from her and added the tea leaves to steep.

"Are you sick?" Mae shook her head at him, momentarily unable to speak as she cleared her throat and caught her breath.

"I swallowed some lake water too. I just need some hot tea."

He helped her get her tea, and then set the pot on for more hot water. As he did so he searched for his pack, and came up empty handed. "Where are our things?"

"Gone." Despite the insistence she just needed a drink, Mae's voice was still rough. "At the bottom of the lake. At least yours is. All I managed to save of mine was the bedroll, which thankfully had my tea and kettle in it. I'd have lost your staff as well, but it was caught on your robes."

That explained the dirty bandages, at least.

"We'll have to wash these then and rewrap. And we'll have to leave soon."

Mae pointed to the back of a cave. "I'm boiling it first, but there is a spring back there that has not killed either of us yet. Food is a problem though."

Kalibose sat down beside her and started to pull the dirty bandages off and laid them carefully beside them. He sucked in a breath at the state of her arm. It was swollen and hot, and the scratches were still oozing. It was fairly easy to locate where the bullet had hit her: it was the cleanest looking wound on her arm. He sat back on his heels and looked at her arm in despair.

"Mae, I don't even know what to do for this. You needed a healer yesterday."

"It will be okay." Her voice was confident, but she didn't meet his eyes. Kalibose started boiling bandages, more to have something to do than because he thought it would actually help.

"I think, if we make these as a hot compress, we might be able to work some of the infection out. But it's going to hurt."

"Well it hurts now, so if it helps, then let's do it."

Treating Mae's arm turned out to be a terrible process. They kept at it the rest of the evening: putting near-boiling hot strips of cloth directly on the wounds, then as they cooled, replacing them with others. By the time it was so dark in the cave he could hardly see even with the fire and his arms were shaking with exhaustion, he thought it might be doing some good however: the redness was concentrated just along the scratch lines and over all, her arm looked healthier. There wasn't time to rest yet though. After insisting on tucking her in around the fire, Kalibose drew his robes around himself and left the cave. Even in full dark, he was able to scout around enough to locate some small rabbit-like voles, and even managed to kill one without destroying it too much. Kalibose grimaced as he skinned the rabbit the best he could with the small paring knife that had been on his belt and not lost in the lake with his other gear. It was not much, but he got it boiling to make a sort of broth both of them could eat for the time being.

He sat in front of the fire, nearly dozing as he watched it cook, when Mae surprised him by piping up.

"So what actually happened back there at the lake?"

Kalibose startled, dropping the stick he was using to poke the fire. He rubbed his hand across his eyes and checked to make sure the soup/stew/broth concoction was not scorching.

"You know how I said that the crystal that we took from the ogres didn't bind correctly to my staff, and that it wasn't working right? That's because it's sentient."

He brought his staff out in front of him. The crystal pulsed once, briefly coloring the cave in a shade of purple.

"Meet K'vaat."

Mae leaned closer, squinting at the crystal as if she were looking for its face.

"Is it-does it talk?"

_Only to those I am bound with._

Kalibose started when K'vaat's voice echoed softly in his mind. He hadn't been sure the naaru would be able to retain its ability to speak one they were back on the material plane.

"It can only speak to me right now. Back at the lake, we struck a deal. My mana shouldn't give me anymore problems now."

Mae's round eyes looked suspicious. "What kind of a deal? You didn't do something like trade your soul, did you?"

"What? No." Kalibose shook his head. "K'vaat is a naaru. He—or it actually, I don't think naaru have a gender—came over with the draenei on the Exodar."

_We do not. __You may refer to me as "he" though, if it makes you more comfortable._

"Oh!" Mae's face lost her misgivings. "Well in that case, it's nice to meet you, K'vaat."

_Likewise Mae, as you seem to be the sole interest behind Kalibose's ability to walk with the Light. _

Kalibose's ears turned red and he quickly set the staff down behind him.

"He, uh, says it's nice to meet you as well."

After their sparse supper, Kalibose checked Mae's bandages again. They looked marginally better—the infection seemed to be gathering at the wound site instead of spreading. If they treated it with heat several times a day, they should be able to beat it out from causing major damage. Even with a magical boost to his energy, he was feeling horribly run through the ringer by the time they were both settling down to sleep. They had only one bedroll between the two of them, and Kalibose was so tired he had no qualms about sharing for the night.

He still had no idea what they were going to do in the morning, and neither he nor Mae seemed to be much of survivalists. Anything else could wait until the morning though: they'd made it so far together, there was no reason to think they wouldn't figure it out with a proper night's sleep.

* * *

Waking the next morning felt like climbing out of a deep pit of unconsciousness. He was sure he had pushed it too far the day before, with almost drowning and draining all of his new-found mana in one go, but he didn't feel like he had much of a choice. Mae was still curled up beside him asleep. He might have found her endearing if she was not snoring loud enough to attract bears. He scrubbed a hand over his face and got up, tucking the blanket down around her again. He hadn't had a chance to scout much the night before in his stumbling search for food, but he was going to take a quick look around this morning. It was past dawn already, and birds were singing enthusiastically in the trees as Kalibose left the cave. It was half concealed by dead and growing ivy, and Kalibose wondered if it was Mae's gift of prophecy that had led her here in the first place: he'd never be able to spot it if he didn't know it was there. For good measure, he scratched a minor locating rune on the earth outside of it before he took off.

He returned an hour later with a cloak full of edible plants and a good idea of where they were at. Mae was still sleeping, surprisingly, but as he shuffled around to make something edible for breakfast, she woke up.

"Is that food?"

"Indeed it is." Kalibose was quite proud of himself: foraging wasn't his strong suit, unless he was looking for spell reagents, and even then he would rather buy them already cleaned and measured. But they were close enough to Ashenvale border now, less than four hours out, that some of the local vegetation had migrated across the edges and he found the area full of things he recognized: plump liferoots growing on damp boulders, patches of bright yellow steelbloom, and even some healing herbs like wild nettle. He had also been fortunate enough to happen upon several violets and dandelions that the rabbits hadn't eaten yet, and while it might not be what he typically ate, he was hungry enough to eat anything at this point. He built up the fire again, and started water boiling so they could tend to Mae's arm again.

She was already pulling the bandages off to look at it and grimaced.

"Ew, gross."

The wounds had started to drain in the middle of the night, and although they looked bad, her arm in general was less swollen and Kalibose took it as a good sign. They treated with hot cloths again, and Mae bit her lip against her cries as they tried to get all the infection out that they could. Kalibose felt terrible about hurting her, but it was helping: and the alternative was rampant infection that would eventually take her life. She was looking decidedly pale as they cleaned up and sorted out what plants and herbs they would eat now and what they would cook later. Liferoots had to be boiled, but everything else could be eaten raw. He sat the liferoots aside to go with supper, and started tea steeping in the kettle. When it was done he brought a cup to Mae. She took it and sipped it thoughtfully. She was quiet this morning, and it bothered him. He sat down beside her with his own cup.

"We are about four hours from the border to Ashenvale, give or take. Do you want to try and leave today, or wait another day?"

"Another day." Her voice was quiet but she answered quickly. "I'm tired, we are safe for now, and not to be a baby, but my arm hurts a whole lot and I'd rather give it another day to heal."

"You got attacked by harpies and then shot. You are allowed to be a baby."

"I know, I just-I hate feeling this way." She set her cup down and pressed one hand to her forehead. "I can't tell if this is prophecy or just a headache, but something is brewing. Something bad."

Kalibose felt his blood chill at the words.

"What-what usually happens when you see something?"

"It varies, but big ones are often preceded by a lingering headache. And I just feel awful all over today, and there's no reason to because my arm is starting to heal."

Mae sighed and tried to pull the blanket over her shoulders one-handed. She hadn't even technically gotten out of bed yet.

"I wish I were home already."

Kalibose reached over and wrapped the blanket more securely around her.

"Hey."

She looked up at him, and there was no sunshine on her face today. She was the silver lining in a cloudy sky, a stillness in the middle of a storm. Grey and silver and every shade in between, but no sunshine. Kalibose wanted very much to see her sunshine again.

"I promise I will get you back home. No matter what it takes. Don't worry about it."

He picked up some of the early shoots of steelbloom, and stuck them in his mouth so that they looked like long teeth sticking down. "Now let us eat our very serious gourmet breakfast."

She giggled in spite of herself, and picking up a liferoot, held it to her forehead like the great horn of a rhino. "Yes, our very serious meal."

She giggled louder, nearly sounding like normal, until it caught in her throat and she dissolved into a coughing fit that shook her shoulders. Kalibose tried very hard not to frown as he handed over her cup of tea.

It would do neither of them any good to show her just how worried he was.


	15. The Border

**Author's Notes: This is the scene that I first envisioned and was the stepping point for this entire story. I hope I did it justice. **

**Review Replies: Ihsan: Already answered but no, his status as an outcast has not changed. Going back into Ashenvale forfeits his life.**

**Den of Meade: Those are all excellent questions and I am happy to answer them! Think of it this way: a naaru puts forth the power force, while the mage/priest/paladin/etc is the conduit. The naaru puts out the electricity, but what the conduit is made of determines how the energy works. So if K'vaat was picked up by a priest, that priest would gain healing power, because they already are trained to heal. K'vaat is not fully connected to the material plane: he can only act through his conduit, and now that he and Kalibose are fully bonded, he has less autonomy than ever. He can only give Kalibose the flow of energy, Kalibose is in charge of deciding where it goes. K'vaat is only a portion of a the greater naaru Vaat that was part of the communications device of the Exodar and it broke off when the Exodar landed. Since Vaat as well was only able to act through the crystal, K'vaat can only act through the portion of the crystal that he is in tune with. So K'vaat is not even a full-powered naaru. But he is plenty powerful enough for a savvy and knowledgeable mage like Kalibose, and K'vaat will be a slightly sarcastic angel on Kalibose's shoulder to keep him on the up and up. Win-win.**

**There is an illustration for this chapter on my deviantArt account, zarabethedraws. It's a little vague, but to completely remain spoiler free, I'd read the chapter first.**

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The prophecy came in the middle of the night. Kalibose woke to the most horrible sound he had ever heard: Mae was screaming, a wordless, piercing wail. She was terrified. Her voice sounded rough, like she had been screaming for hours already. He blindly reached for her and pulled her into his arms. She sobbed into his shoulder messily, a mix of coughing and crying and nearly choking, she was so upset. He tried to hush her gently, rocking her back and forth as if she were only a child, and felt terribly helpless as she was caught in the grip of something that was out of both of their control. After what felt like hours, her tears slowed, and her sobs deteriorated into intermittent whimpers and gasps for air. Kalibose did not let go of her for anything. He held her the rest of the night, far past the time when she stilled into a deep sleep, much longer than was comfortable.

If this was what it was like to be a prophet, then he had no doubt in his mind why she ran from it as fast as possible.

He must have fallen asleep sometime shortly before dawn, because he woke up sharply a few hours afterward, sweating from the heat of the fire and her closeness. His arm was asleep where she was laying on it, and immensely uncomfortable. He pulled it out, trying not to disturb her. He tucked the blankets down around her and got up, shaking his arm. How long did it take her to recover from a vision like that? She had been crying for most of the night: she might sleep the rest of the morning, and he had no intention of waking her. His arm finally stopped tingling, and he was cold outside of the blankets, so he stooped and built up the fire again. He glanced back over where she was breathing harshly through her mouth in her sleep. He should at least check on her wounds and make sure they were still healing. Moving as carefully as possible, he pulled back the edges of the bandages. Her wounds were done draining, and overall looked much better. Kalibose sighed in relief. Playing chicken with infection like that was dangerous while they were out in the wild, and if it was healing, if it was close to being over, that meant that the biggest danger was past. Her breath caught in her throat, and she whimpered softly. He tensed, half-expecting her to fall into another fit, but she just shifted restlessly in the blankets.

He reached over to smooth her silver hair back from her face. It was strange, how his hand just moved automatically to soothe her, and he refused to complicate it. She was asleep, she was upset. There was nothing else to think about. Her forehead was warm and dry and the sparse light from the fire threw her eyes into deep shadows. She'd had a bad few days: much worse than he had. She was on the road to recovery, but it was a rough one. There was no magical artifact for her to touch to regain her strength. She had stilled momentarily, and Kalibose let her continue to sleep. He took out the food he had gathered yesterday and decided that he would again try to catch a rabbit or bird to cook today. Mae's voice didn't sound one bit better, and the broth would probably help better than greens. He picked up the wild nettle, which he hadn't gotten into yesterday and tried to remember how to prepare it for healing. Should he steep it into a tea? Should they try to poultice it and put it directly on her wounds? They were getting better, but it couldn't hurt.

"K-K-Kalibose?"

Her voice was thin and shaking behind him. He dropped the plants and turned back to her. She was sitting up, holding the blankets tight around her, and she was shivering. She looked a little confused, and he put his hands on her shoulders to get her attention.

"Hey, you can go back to sleep. You had a bad night, you don't have to get up."

She nodded, but she didn't lay back down yet. "D-d-do you think you c-c-could build the fire up again? I'm f-f-freezing."

She started coughing, and it sounded different this morning: a wet, thick sound and it seemed to hurt her to do so. Kalibose felt his heart drop into his stomach. It was already much warmer in the cave than it had been earlier and he put a hand on her forehead, then slid it down behind her neck. Her skin was not just warm anymore: it was hot.

She was feverish. And it had nothing to do with her arm anymore: this sounded like it was coming from her lungs.

She coughed again and Kalibose held her upright, feeling panic grip his insides as he felt heat radiate off of her. They had to leave. They had to leave _now_ and find a healer, and there was no more time to wait. She gasped for air after her coughing fit, and muttering an apology to her under his breath, he slid his hand under the back of her shirt to feel when she breathed. He could feel the air rattling around in her lungs and it terrified him. He took his hand back and wrapped her up as tightly as possible, trying not to let his hands shake.

"Okay Mae, change of plans; we are leaving right now. I'm going to get something for you to drink and then I will pack up. You stay here in the blankets, I will be right back."

He fairly ran farther into the cave to collect more water, and on the way he tripped over a pile of debris. He had stepped on it before, but this time he conjured a small flame in his hand and held it close to see what it was. It was remnants of the cave inhabitants before: old rotting clothes, a rusting sword, an intact bowl and two spoons, and a silver whistle. He picked through it, pocketing the bowl, spoons, and whistle. He was already formulating a plan for his found items as he filled the kettle with water and took it back to the fire to boil it for safety. Mae was laying back down, and Kalibose gathered everything else of theirs together while he made the nettle tea. When it was done, he woke her again. She rubbed her eyes and gave him a very disgruntled look. He pushed the cup of tea into her hands.

"I'm sorry Mae, but we will have to leave for the border today. You need a healer and we can't wait anymore. Drink up, and then we will get going."

It was telling how awful she felt that she didn't bother arguing, just sipped the hot tea as quickly as possible. He went to the entrance of the cave and muttered a quiet expletive.

"Fuck."

It was raining. Not just a sprinkling, or a light mist, but a soaking, miserable rain that he normally would never travel under.

"Fuck!"

He slapped the wall of the cave hard enough to make energy crackle along his tattoos. He turned and strode back to collect Mae and their things. This was going to complicate an already complicated situation.

They set out shortly after, Kalibose carrying all of their things and steadying an arcane bubble around them as they went. Mae did not complain about the fast pace he set, just trudged along as best as she could. There was no need for talking: they both understood how bad the situation was, and priority was set on making distance. Kalibose kept to a north-northeast direction, with the misty peak of the mountainous ridge that separated the zones in his vision. It wasn't too bad at first: the arcane bubble kept them mostly dry, and Mae had enough determination to push through most discomfort. They had brought the rest of the nettle tea with them, and Kalibose had no idea if it was helping or not, but at least Mae had something to drink when coughing slowed her down. The second hour in to their walk, though, Mae was visibly faltering, and shifting things around, he got his arm around her and helped keep her steady as they went. They called a halt briefly at the halfway point: it was not very restful as they huddled together under an awning of rock that was relatively dry underneath. Kalibose shook his numb hands and tried to ignore the drain it was to constantly cast and walk at the same time. Mae leaned against the rock and shivered like a leaf in the wind. They caught their breath, and far too quickly, were off again.

It was mostly uphill after that, and their pace slowed considerably. Even though K'vaat was willingly lending him his power, he still felt this hollow burn inside that told him he was pushing his magic usage too much. The arcane bubble he had formed around them to keep the torrential rain at bay was thin, and he felt it slowly draining his strength away as he pushed them forward to the Ashenvale border. Mae was pressed up against his side as close as possible, clinging to his waist with her good arm as she tried to keep moving. He could feel the heat from her fever coursing through her veins. In a different situation, he might have found the warmth soothing in the cold rain, but now he was gripped with fear. She was very ill. So ill, that even when he got her to the border that led to safety, he was not sure that he could trust that she would be able to find help without him. The thought settled in the pit of his stomach like lead. He felt her stumble and he caught her again. He held her tighter against him, getting her under his cloak and wrapping it around her. What had started as an intermittent tremble a few miles back was now an uncontrollable shiver. He stomped down his fear forcefully and talked to her, trying to keep her going.

"You can do it Mae, we're only about an hour out. We should see the border soon. What are you going to do once you cross?"

"W-w-walk due northeast until I find the road. Blow this whistle," she touched where it lay hidden under her shirt, "to call for any nearby Sentinels."

Her voice broke into a wracking cough and he paused, holding her steady until the fit passed. Her answers did nothing to help his anxiety—although the area was bound to be littered with border guards, the chances of her finding help before completely succumbing to illness were getting less likely. He hurried her along again, feeling the time slip away from them like through a sieve.

The rain tapered off miraculously just as they breasted the ridge that was the final obstacle. There below them lay the beauty and tranquility of Ashenvale forest. Kalibose felt his heart ache for its peaceful depths at the same time that the Mark on his forehead, that hadn't hurt at all since it had healed over the first time, twinged painfully. This was by far the closest he had come to his homeland since his banishment. He hadn't ever been tempted to come back, but now, after all the running and hostility of Stonetalon, he felt he craved peace. Acceptance. He wanted to feel like a person again. He nudged Mae, so that she lifted her head.

"Look Mae, there it is! There's the border. You are so close to home."

So close to home. He swallowed thickly, feeling emotions tear at this insides. If his Mark was reacting, he was already far too near the border to be safe. This would be where they had to say goodbye.

For a moment he stood there, encased in the thinning arcane bubble. Mae leaned against him, her breath raspy and strained. She had her eyes closed and wasn't even looking at the border. He would have to make her let go of him, then he would have to push her away, and watch her walk into the trees alone. Then he could only sit there and pray that she made it.

Instead though he wrapped both arms around her and pulled her into a tight hug. He wanted to tell her how much she had changed him in just the past ten days. He wanted to show her how much he cared for her now, how he had never cared for anyone else before. He wanted to explain how she had literally saved his life from K'vaat by forcing him to do the right thing for once. Instead he bit his lip as hard as possible to keep tears from running down his cheeks. The tightness in his chest locked all of his words inside of him, and after several minutes, he finally took a shaky breath and spoke.

"The border is right past that line of green there, Mae. You can make it: I know you can. If you can drag my half-drowned ass all the way around the lake and into a cave with one arm, you can walk across the border. You're too tough to let this beat you."

He thought he felt her nod against his chest. He made himself loosen his grip, and continued on, not looking at her at all.

"Make sure you send me a letter as soon as you can. To Windshear, to Eldre'thalas, I will find it. Just let me know you're safe, alright?"

Slowly, although it felt like he were ripping a piece of himself off and casting it away, he released her. He lingered for a moment, holding her shoulders and waiting for her answer.

"Mae?" he prodded gently. "Alright?"

She wasn't looking at him. She wasn't looking at anything at all. She stared in front of her, blank and unseeing, and without warning her eyes rolled back in her head and she collapsed.

He was so shocked that he didn't even catch her properly, just made a mad grab at the air where she had been seconds ago. For one horrible second, he thought she had just died, right there in front of him, and he dropped to his knees and felt her neck with a shaking hand. Her heart beat strong and too fast, and the heat of her fever felt like it would burn his hand.

"Mae, wake up." He shook her shoulder, and when she didn't move, cupped her face and spoke right into it. "Come on Mae, don't do this, you have to wake up. You're not safe here, I can't help you here."

He got his arm under her shoulders and pulled her to sitting. The arcane bubble dissolved around them and raindrops splattered their clothes. Kalibose ignored it all. He shook her roughly, his voice growing desperate.

"Wake up! Mae!" He drew his hand back to slap her cheek, and then dropped his hand back down. He couldn't strike her. He held her to him and looked around him. How close were they to the border? How close to the neutral pass?

"Help!" He screamed it out as loud as possible. The still trees around him seemed to swallow his words. "Help! I need help!"

There was no answer, and he hadn't expected one. He shook her again, feeling panic clutch his chest. He held her tightly to his chest, pleading with her.

"Please Mae, I can't carry you over the border. You have to wake up."

The rain grew heavier, and he pulled his cloak off and put it around her shoulders and covered her head. He screamed out for help one more time, pleading with nonexistent border guards to come rescue her. He pleaded with every god or goddess that he could think of, his voice breaking on the words.

"Please, I need to save her. Please don't let her die. It's all my fault, I know it is, just please don't let her die."

He made an attempt to pick her up, and he fell back down to his knees. He was just not a strong person: he had never done anything physical except walk and run, and even then only to reach the next destination. His staff knocked against the back of his head as he struggled to pick her up again. He grabbed it, hope blooming in his chest.

"K'vaat! Help me!"

_I am not able to do anything you cannot, Kalibose. I cannot heal her_.

"Then what are you fucking good for?" He threw the staff in a burst of anger. It struck a nearby tree and the crystal pulsed purple angrily. He didn't care. He didn't care if he ever cast a spell again. If he didn't do something, and fast, then he would be stuck here watching the only friend he ever had in his life die in his arms. He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes.

"What am I supposed to do, Mae? I cannot take you across. I promised you that I would not cross. They will kill me, and you will have to see it. What am I supposed to do?"

He stood and paced beside her, clenching his hands into fists repeatedly. There was no one around. They had no shelter, and even if they did, she could not wait for care. There was no way they could go back. It had to be at least another hour to the neutral checkpoint between Horde and Alliance territory. His steps slowed until he was stuck in place, and stared at the rush of deep green that beckoned him. The border was right there. Her salvation was only a few steps away. Slowly he felt clarity descend on him, and he walked over to retrieve his staff.

If he did not take her across, she would die.

If she died, his life was meaningless anyway.

As he paced back to her, he remembered how his brother used to cart him around in his arms when he grew too tired to walk but was too old to admit it. Chest to chest, arms around his neck, sitting on Talrend's bicep. Surely, with a magical boost, he could accomplish that. After securing his staff on his back, he wrapped his cloak around her tightly, with the hood drawn to cover her face. He pulled her to sitting, and squatted down and threw her hands over his shoulders, and put one arm around her waist and the other under her legs. He couldn't increase his strength, but he could make her lighter. He cast the spell, and hoisted her up in to his arms. _By Elune she was heavy._ Even though standing she only came up to the middle of his chest, she was muscular, and he staggered as he balanced her against him. Even with the spell, he would need all his attention to carry her across. He shifted her so that her head lolled against his shoulder and her legs hung behind him awkwardly. He wouldn't be able to keep this up for long. Focusing on the line of darker green ahead of him in the trees, he started forward, feeling out his steps before he took them.

The close he got to the border, the more he was aware of his Mark. He could feel it clearly now, burning slightly against the glamour he always covered it with. He wasn't sure what it would do once he stepped over, but he didn't think it would be pleasant. He continued on, one step at a time. Doggedly he trudged to his own demise, and Mae's salvation. Weighing the two in his head, there was no other choice than this.

He stood right before the border now, the Mark prickling on his forehead as if it were tearing the skin anew. Mae moved for the first time since she collapsed: she whimpered quietly, and tightened her grip around his neck. It was surely a reflex, but it was the only push he needed.

He whispered into her hair, "I'm sorry Mae," and stepped across.


	16. Sentinels

**Author's Notes: Don't adjust your browser: part of this chapter is not told from the Angst King's PoV, and that is intentional. **

**Review Replies: Ihsan: "desperation" would have been a good name for that chapter. In fact it would probably be a good name for the entire fic.**

**Stonysky: I'd like to think this one is pretty suspenseful as well. Thank you for reading :)!**

* * *

Melinara adjusted the strap on her bracer for what felt like the hundredth time. She shifted her quiver, she took her helmet off, shoved her dark blue hair back from her face, and put it back on. She leaned forward onto her knees and automatically yanked the back of her breastplate down, even though it fit as well as if had grown onto her with her skin.

"You are disturbing the balance."

The voice that came from below her was quiet and hard as a piece of elven steel. Melinara sighed.

"I am barely moving, Alisael. If the balance is that sensitive, then I think it needs to be disturbed."

The elder Sentinel below her moved. If Melinara could hear her doing it, then the noise must be intentional. She hung her head below the branch she was perched on and studied her partner. Alisael stood slowly and stretched, before squatting back down in the exact same position. The long plait of her white hair slid back over her shoulder. Melinara and the other younger generation of Sentinels took lots on whether her hair was that color naturally or from age. Alisael was old. Older than the invasion of orcs from Draenor, older than the War of the Shifting Sands, older than the War of the Ancients. Some of them giggled that she was the first night elf born on Azeroth, but Melinara didn't believe them. Well, most of the time at least.

She heard the elder night elf shift again, adjusting her glaive and dropping down to one knee. Melinara fought back another sigh.

"Being young is no excuse for idleness," her voice drifted up.

Melinara resisted the urge to take her helmet off again. Maybe drop it down to the forest floor below, just to have some excitement.

"I'm not idle, I'm bored."

Sometimes she would provoke her, just to get her started. Day watch was too quiet. It might be when the Horde lit up Ashenvale with the sounds of shredders and lumbermills, and it might be when open skirmishes started and ended. But that was not her business. She was to simply watch for those sneaking illegally across the border, and that usually happened at night. Plus the sun gave her a headache.

"Bored."

Melinara could almost hear her winding up her speech in her head and grinned to herself. She hadn't yet figured out if Alisael knew she riled her up on purpose or not, but it was hard to imagine she didn't. She was just so predictable.

"Boredom is nothing to you, youngling. I have lived through the Long Vigil. I have kept watch on every blade of grass that has ever grown in this grove and others that have long been abandoned. I know the names of every tree south of Raynewood. I knew your great-grandmother when she was but a babe in arms. Do not talk to me of your boredom."

Alisael was actually looking at her now, and Melinara reached up to scratch her nose to hide the smirk on her face.

"I learned patience when Druidism was nothing but a fad. You would do well to take a lesson."

"Yes, Sister."

Alisael turned back to her watch, but Melinara could still hear her talking to herself. She pressed a hand against her mouth lest a wayward giggle escaped.

"The world is so different now. I remember when it took hundreds, and before that thousands of years of service to hold the rank of Sentinel. Now they let the younglings in with hardly a care to their rationality, without the trials we had to go through. Men as well! If you've a desire and sheet a paper, they hand you a helmet. And marking them as early as seventy-five! You are barely out of your mother's bosom at seventy-five."

Melinara rubbed a hand over her own facial markings. They had been done only two years previous; a pair of lightning bolts slightly darker than her skin hue. She was quite proud of them: her own mother had lightning bolt tattoos as well. It didn't mean that it hadn't hurt though, and she was still getting used to the responsibility.

"Of course," Alisael's voice grew soft, and Melinara had to strain to hear her, "there are so few of us left. Not after the invasion, not after the destruction of the World Tree. The babes that are being born now may be too few, too late."

Melinara frowned. Alisael's speech usually didn't drift towards the melancholy, and it left an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. She didn't have time to dwell on it though, because the elder Sentinel stood with purpose.

"Time for another sweep."

Melinara tried not to groan as she also stood, and stretched as much as she could. Anything was better than this monotony.

"What in the name of-"

As soon as she heard Alisael's oath, she saw it too: a light, more brilliant than anything she had ever seen in her life, more brilliant than the moonwells lit by starfire in the druid temple, brighter than an explosion. But it must be an explosion: it started at one spot on the border and spread out, pulsed outward, yet did not fade after erupting. More than the light however, was the _feeling_; Melinara could feel herself being drawn toward the light, and she felt her hair stand up on the back of her neck. This was an enemy. It had to be brought down. She was more sure of it than her own name.

Below her she heard Alisael sharply call her name and drop straight down to the ground. Melinara took a breath, then leapt straight off the branch. It was a fair distance, and longer than she wanted to jump, but with a rolling tumble she landed relatively safely. Alisael's eyes glowed as she turned to her.

"That is a Mark. An outcast is trying to enter back into Ashenvale."

Melinara felt excitement buzz within her as they took off, quick and silent as shadows in the underbrush. An Outcast. She had only heard stories of them from the elders, never the younglings. She hadn't even known that any still existed. As they ran, she heard another pair of footsteps join them. Malaren, and then his partner Kira. They had taken the western swath, while they had the eastern this week. If they had seen it from their patrol as well, then every Sentinel in southern Ashenvale would be here within a half hour. Melinara poured on more speed as Alisael pulled even farther ahead. Even if they didn't reach the outcast first, she wanted to be sure and get a front row seat to the altercation.

Either way, her day was looking a lot less boring.

* * *

Kalibose thought he had remembered the pain from when he was first branded with the Mark. He thought he remembered how it seared into his skull, how he had been blind from the light, and then passed out shortly afterward.

Now, as he used his entire will to just remain conscious, he did not think his memory possibly did it justice.

One step, and then another. Mae gasped for air against his ear, and he was grateful for it: without a constant reminder of why he kept going, he was sure he would have dropped her and fallen to the ground. He was pretty sure he was screaming in pain. He had no control over it anymore.

The underbrush tangled around his feet and he kicked at it as he went forward. If he fell now, he was not getting up again. He wrapped his arms tighter around Mae. Get her to safety. Get her to the border guards.

They should have no problem finding him.

An immeasurable amount of time passed. His arms felt like jelly, and he clasped his wrists with the opposite hands to keep from dropping Mae. He had to keep going, slowly, until his Mark finally attracted enough attention to get Mae help. He would welcome it at this point: anything would be better than this pain.

"Halt, Outcast."

He wanted to yell out his answer to them, to make very sure they would not try to fire on him and hurt Mae, but all that came out was a harsh whisper.

"Wait, please."

"You are not allowed in these lands, Outcast. Release your prisoner immediately."

Much later, Kalibose would reflect on the ludicrousness of the idea that he would be able to take a prisoner in the state he was in. As it was, his voice was so strained he could barely understand himself.

"She needs help. She needs a healer."

He could see them now. Three of them, two women and a man, in front of him. Most likely at least one behind. The woman in the center, who either had brilliant white hair or his eyesight was going with the beacon that was his Mark, held her glaive slightly behind her and looked as if she were struggling not to attack. On either side the two archers held their bows drawn and at the ready. Kalibose held himself as non-threatening as possible, but he refused to put Mae down until he was sure they weren't going to shoot her as well. The elder Sentinel all but snarled at him.

"I don't have time to listen to your lies, criminal, drop the girl or we'll go through her."

Mae took that moment to cough loudly, a terrible rasping thing to hear right against his shoulder. He nearly lost hold of her as she shook, but he locked his arms into place and gathered the dregs of his determination around him. He glared at the Sentinels in front of him, even though the light coming from his forehead had to be blinding them as well. The girl on the right looked as if she were trying not to squint.

"Not until you give me your word that she will not be harmed."

The elder Sentinel did snarl then, and started forward. The man beside her grabbed her shoulder.

"Wait, Alisael. I think he's telling the truth."

The elder Sentinel turned on him with fire in her eyes. "Are you blind, Malaren? Do you see the Mark blazing on his forehead? Can you not feel the magic? The law is clear, he is to be killed on sight."

The girl beside her also lowered her bow. "I agree with Malaren."

Alisael's face turned red as she looked between her companions.

"I will have both of you for insubordination!"

Malaren, at least, had the good sense to look penitent.

"I mean no disrespect, Sister. It would weigh on me greatly to take this girl's life without being positive this is a sham."

Malaren lowered his bow to the ground slowly, and approached Kalibose with his hands out in front of him. Kalibose resisted the urge to try and cast something, and instead clutched her to him. The Sentinel must have seen it on his face, because he motioned to the others.

"Melinara, stand ready."

The younger Sentinel drew back another arrow. Malaren held his hands out in front of him.

"I am giving you a chance, Outcast, you have no choice but to trust me."

Kalibose glared hatred at him as he stepped forward and felt Mae's pulse, then her forehead, and then held a hand on her back to feel her labored breathing. He could tell by the surprise on the man's face that he hadn't expected her illness to be so obvious. He called back over his shoulder.

"He's telling the truth. This girl needs help."

"Melinara, go fetch Natiron."

Alisael barked out the order without turning her head, and Melinara took off like a shot. The elder Sentinel jerked her head at Malaren.

"Take the girl."

Kalibose held on to her for one moment more. Malaren held his arms out and his face was full of compassion.

"I will not harm her. You have my word."

Slowly, Kalibose released her. He had to practically pry her arm off of his neck, and Mae whimpered as she was transferred into the Sentinel's arms. It took everything Kalibose had not to grab her back.

Now that he was no longer carrying her, he felt light-headed, and his knees threatened to buckle on him. He distinctly heard the rustle of another Sentinel behind him as Malaren turned from him, and started to carry Mae away.

_This was when they would kill him. _

He stood as tall as he could, and focused his attention on what little he could see of Mae's face. He would not die with shame. He had saved her life. He was proud of himself for what little good he had actually accomplished in the last few days, as opposed to misery. This was not a waste: this was a sacrifice, and he would do it again in a heartbeat.

Alisael walked up to him, holding her glaive at the ready. Kalibose took a second to be grateful that Mae was unconscious and wouldn't see him die. Small favors.

Alisael looked at him as if he were nothing more than dirt on the bottom of her boot, then gestured to the Sentinel standing behind him. Kalibose couldn't help but close his eyes: brave he might pretend to be, but he didn't want to see the Sentinel advance on him. He heard the rustle of movement behind him, and held his breath.

Something struck him on the back of the head, and the world faded to black.

* * *

**Two more chapters**.


	17. Detained

**Author's Notes: Here we are, readers, at the end of Outcast. There will be a short Epilogue after this, from Mae's PoV, and then we are done. I hope you have enjoyed the journey as much as I have enjoyed writing it, and will join me for Kalibose and Mae's next story, which will be called Inkwells and Lotus Blossoms and will be started after the Epilogue on this one is finished. **

**Review Replies: Ihsan: I have seriously had so much fun writing the disconnect between the elder Sentinels and the younglings that I kind of want to write more about them. They are fun. **

**Guest: *hands you a tissue ***

**Nyte: Right now!**

**Bohmz: Ha ha you know I didn't realize there was just so many cliffhangers in this story until I got down to writing them. But not on this one at least. I do adore those Sentinels, although they will not be in the Scepter/Outcast continuum again after this chapter. **

* * *

"Psst."

Kalibose groaned. Someone was poking him in the shoulder, and it aggravated him far more than was probably necessary. He tried to lean away from it, but he found himself completely and without an inch of give, bound. Even lifting his head was difficult: there was some sort of hood drawn over his face.  
It had to be enchanted somehow: it felt heavy as stone, yet was pliable like fabric. He opened his eyes cautiously. All he could see was the shadow from the hood and through the narrow opening, his hands sitting in his lap. He was wearing anti-magic cuffs. There was a shuffle in front of him, and something stabbed his shoulder again. Gritting his teeth, he managed to raise his head enough to see who was bothering him.

It was a Sentinel. She had been sitting close enough that her knee was pressed against him, but at his sudden movement, she jumped back a few inches. She was a young one: her eyes were wide and curious, and her hair was the color of spring leaves. He honestly could not remember if she was the same one that he had encountered before or not.

"Hey, are you awake?"

Kalibose gave her the most sarcastic glare he could conjure.

"Unfortunately."

"I've got to go get Alisael, but can I ask you something real quick? I'm dying of curiosity."

Kalibose again tried to shift position. He could move his shoulders a bit, and nothing more. He appreciated that he felt so drained and lethargic at the moment: otherwise his claustrophobia would be going off the scales. The Sentinel took his silence for acquiescence.

"Did you really walk over the border of Ashenvale, knowing you would be killed, just to save that girl?"

Kalibose squinted his eyes at her, trying to understand anything aside from the damp cotton stuffed inside his head.

"That's the long and short of it, I guess."

The Sentinel made a high-pitched squealing noise and pressed both her hands to her mouth.

"I knew it! I knew it! That is _so_ romantic."

She sighed dramatically, and Kalibose had the common sense to at least feel embarrassed.

"That...wasn't really the point."

"Of course it wasn't." The Sentinel grinned at him widely and Kalibose tried to lean away from her. "I can't wait to tell the girls!"

She jumped to her feet and Kalibose realized that as as annoying as she was, she at least had information.

"Wait!"

She paused in the middle of turning away.

"What about the girl I brought in? Mae? Is she okay?"

The Sentinel nodded enthusiastically and Kalibose felt something relax inside him.

"Oh yes, she's going to be just fine. She had a bad case of pneumonia, but Healer Natiron has her. Last I saw she was sitting up and talking to her parents."

She skipped off, and Kalibose slumped back against the wall. At least she was going to be fine.

He took the time alone to try and examine his surroundings. He was not in a jail cell, which he was curious about. They had not killed him outright, although if they were just waiting for him to give a statement, he wished they would get it over with. He assumed they were at Stardust Spire: which as far as he knew, had holding cells in it like every other outpost. He flexed once more, and tried not to think about being confined. If they were so worried about him escaping, then why not put him in a cell?

"Good evening, Outcast. Kalibose, is it?"

The fierce-looking white-haired woman from before stepped into the room, holding a clipboard in front of her. Kalibose watched her warily as Alisael made tickmarks on the paper.

"Yes ma'am."

Alisael smiled at him as set her clipboard on the desk by the door. It seemed more predatory than genuine, and Kalibose did not take his eyes off of her.

"You've made for an exciting day, at least. I have a few questions for you. First of all, for the record, state your name and conviction. "

"I am Kalibose Woodstalker. I was convicted fourteen years ago for the crime of practicing the arcane illegally, among other things. I was sentenced to banishment."

She nodded and crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against the door frame.

"And you are fully aware of the consequences if you try to enter Kal'dorei territory without permission?"

"I was to be killed on sight, although it seems your Sentinels forgot that part."

The look on Alisael's face tightened a bit at his remark, but she did not rise to his taunt.

"Then please state, for the record, why you decided to cross the borders."

Kalibose sighed. This was tedious: they apparently already knew the truth of things, and if he was going to be punished, he wanted it over with.

"I was escorting my travel companion, Mae Songwhisper, to the border so she could get back home. I never intended to cross the border, but she fell ill and was not able to cross of her own accord. I couldn't sit there and watch her die, so I carried her over, knowing that we would both be found very quickly."

Kalibose raised his chin as much as possible under the heavy hood.

"I do not regret my actions. I would appreciate it, if you are waiting to kill me, just go ahead instead of boring me with paperwork."

Alisael barked a harsh laugh. "I admire your spunk, Outcast. I wish some of my recruits had your guts."

She picked up the clipboard again, and made a few more marks on it. She continued on as she wrote.

"If it helps, I would rather be killed than fill out paperwork as well. Lucky for you however, that is not on the schedule for you today."

Kalibose was getting really tired of being the last to know what was going on, especially when it involved his own fate. He did not bother to keep the frustration out of his voice.

"I don't understand."

Alisael scribbled something on the bottom of the paper on the clipboard, then laid it down on the desk.

"That is not for me to explain, Outcast. As far as I'm concerned, you can rot in here until someone plucks up enough gall to take out the trash. The commander disagrees with me, however, so I'll leave you to her."

Another Sentinel appeared in the doorway, and Alisael nodded to her as she took her leave. The night elf watched her with a wry look as she left, then shook her head. She pulled a chair out and sat down in front of Kalibose. Kalibose tilted his head back to look at her. She had a much more pleasant look on her face than Alisael, but her face was still hard, and she was most definitely not a youngling like some of the other Sentinels. Her purple hair was pulled back into a tight bun at the base of her neck and although she was in full uniform, she was not wearing a helm. She leaned forward onto her knees to speak to him.

"I am Commander Shadowleaf. I apologize for you being all tied up like this. It took every piece of magic-dampening equipment in this base to get your Mark to the point where we could get it switched off."

Kalibose's head was spinning with all this new information.

"Wait, you can turn it off?"

The commander gestured to the side as if the details didn't matter to her. "According to the mage we brought in, there's some kind of kill-switch or something. The arcane is not my forte."

Kalibose tried to bring his hands up to feel his forehead, but remembered his arms were bound down by his side. Glancing down, he could now see that they were not ordinary ropes: there were runes barely visible on them.

"So, the Mark is gone?"

The commander's face looked apologetic. "Unfortunately, no. It can still only be removed by the person who put it on you. The kill-switch is for accidental activation."

"So what happens to me now?"

The commander leaned back to snag the clipboard off the desk and rifled through its contents.

"That's what I'm here to talk to you about. You see, we have a bit of a conundrum. I pulled your files as soon as Alisael brought you in. It showed what you confirmed in your statement: you were convicted with illegal use of the arcane."

"So what's the issue?"

The commander set the clipboard back in the desk. "Your crime doesn't exist anymore."

For a moment, hope squirreled its way into his chest, before he remembered that the consequences were the same: he still had the Mark, and he still couldn't get it removed. The commander continued her speech.

"And even if it did, you now have a couple sponsors that have vouched for your strength of character. As long as you are under their care, you are allowed here."

For a moment Kalibose had this wild hope that they had managed to find some member of his family that still cared about him: an errant uncle perhaps, or maybe even his brother. Maybe someone that could talk his father into reversing the Mark.

"Who are they?"

Commander Shadowleaf smiled. "The Songwhispers are very grateful you saved their daughter's life. They have volunteered to be your sponsors until you get this Mark business sorted out."

She stood and picked up the clipboard, slapping it against her hand thoughtfully. "So here are your options. We can contact the original person who performed the banishment ritual on you; a relative of yours, correct? You will stay here in detainment until they arrive and remove the Mark, and then after signing some paperwork, you can go. You will no longer be branded a criminal."

Kalibose swallowed.

"What's the other option?"

"I have my Sentinels drop you off at the border. You remain in captivity until you cross the border, then you are free, so to say. Your status will not change and if you cross again, you might not get the same leniency that we have offered you."

The commander leaned back against the desk and crossed her arms. "I highly suggest you take the first option. Your intentions in crossing the border were, as far as I can tell, genuine. I am more willing to look aside than someone else might."

Kalibose stared at the anti-magic cuffs around his wrists.

"I would prefer to have the Mark removed, Commander. I'm afraid that it would not be an option though."

"Why not? Practicing the arcane is no longer illegal. In fact, without it, we never would have gotten that damned beacon on your head shut off. It is illogical to uphold your criminal status."

"Because the person who sentenced me to banishment was my father."

Commander Shadowleaf didn't answer, and Kalibose felt sick to his stomach.

"There is no reason I can imagine why he would convict a fifteen year old to the highest form of punishment, except that he would prefer I was dead rather than be exactly what he wanted. So you see, Commander," he lifted his head, and fuck it all, if there weren't tears wavering his vision, "you can contact him all you want. I doubt he would answer."

After a breath, the commander nodded.

"I understand. I will make a note in your file."

She scribbled something on the clipboard and Kalibose turned his head to the side, blinking furiously. She pointedly said nothing about it as she moved around the room, putting things in the desk and taking things out.

"I will send one of the girls up with something for you to eat. In the meantime the Songwhispers would like to speak to you."

Kalibose had just enough time to possibly start to panic a little at the idea of Mae's parents meeting him bound up like a lamb for slaughter when they stepped into the room. Mae's father was a big man: at least as tall and broad in the shoulder as his oldest brother. He had silver hair like Mae, and he sported dark skin on his face and arms, clearly the result of working long hours out in the sun. Mae's mother, though, shared the monk's body type, although she had dark hair, almost black in color. Both of them wore simple garb, and Kalibose wracked his brain trying to remember their profession. Vendors of some sort?

"Kalibose Woodstalker? I am Vemet Songwhisper, and this is my wife Merelith. We are Mae's parents."

Kalibose nodded nervously. "I would shake your hand, sir, but," he shook his hands entrapped in the cuffs.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, though."

Vemet Songwhisper stopped in the middle of the room, and seemed unsure where else to go. Merelith was clinging to a handkerchief that looked well-used. The tall night elf cleared his throat a few times before speaking.

"We are simple folk. We only have what we get out of our hard work: no adventuring, no travel for us. Mae and her sister," here he almost choked up, and Kalibose tried not to cringe, "they are everything to us. We cannot thank you enough for saving her."

Without warning Merelith rushed to him and hugged him, and Kalibose wanted to sink into the floor. He could not do anything but lean his face away from her and he saw Vemet kneel down to take his hand and shake it.

"I am sorry for all of this mess. Are the Sentinels not going to do anything about it?"

He indicated the bonds around Kalibose. Kalibose tried to ignore Merelith sobbing on his shoulder.

"It's complicated, actually. I think they are going to take me back across the border and drop me off before they let me go."

"What a brave boy." Mae's mother sat up and patted his cheek, and Kalibose almost wished she would go back to crying.

Vemet seemed to see how uncomfortable he was, and pulled his wife away from him gently.

"Now now Mere, let's not overwhelm the boy."

They stood to go, and Kalibose called out to them.

"Thank you, by the way, for vouching for me. I appreciate it, when you don't even know who I am."

Vemet smiled, and his eyes crinkled up at the corners. "You saved our daughter's life. There is nothing else to know."

Merelith had buried her face into her handkerchief again. Vemet patted her on the shoulder.

"The Sentinels aren't going to remove the Mark?"

Kalibose shook his head. "The original person who put it on me would never agree, and its up to him. I will just be put back across the border."

Vemet nodded. "Then we will remain your sponsors. If you ever need to come across, to visit your family or anything else, we will be here."

Kalibose didn't even try to hide his surprise. He couldn't speak for a moment, and when he did it sounded strained.

"Thank you. That's...the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me."

Vemet glanced out the door, and then back to him.

"It is our pleasure, Kalibose. Just be good to our daughter. Who is going to have a fit if I don't let her in to talk to you."

Kalibose heard a muted, "Dad!" outside the door, and he felt his heart lift. No sooner than her parents vacated the room, in flooded Mae, bringing the wind and sunshine with her. She flung her arms around him in a right hug and Kalibose closed his eyes, letting himself finally relax now that he could see her. After a long moment, she pulled away, but not far. He was relieved to see the smile had returned to her face in all its brightness.

"How are you feeling?"

"Much better." Her voice was still a little rough, but she was obviously worlds better. "Healer Natiron said I had the worst case of pneumonia he'd ever seen. One more day and I might not have made it. Although," she punched him good-naturedly in the shoulder, "you didn't have to risk your life for me. I can't believe they are letting you go."

"Me neither."

Mae fussed with the hood of his dampening cloak, and finally got it pulled back from his face. He shook his hair out of his way and was finally able to take a deep breath.

"Thank you. That was heavy."

"The commander said she won't risk taking the anti-magic gear off of you until you are back across the border. Apparently you were freaking out the other prisoners. That's why you're in her office instead."

Mae settled down cross-legged in front of him.

"So when are they letting you go?"

Kalibose shrugged. "I guess as soon as they file their paperwork. They are just taking me across, so I can't imagine it will take long. The commander probably wants her office back."

Mae nodded. "Okay, I just wanted to make sure I was cleared with Natiron to leave beforehand. He said I should be good by tomorrow as long as I take it easy, so I'll be ready whenever you are."

Kalibose blinked.

"Wait, are you coming with me?"

Mae's smile dampened a bit. "Is that okay? Do you not want me to?"

"Yes! I mean no! I mean, yes I definitely want you to come with me, but didn't we just traverse the entirety of Stonetalon and nearly get killed multiple times just to get you back home?"

Mae shrugged. "I am back home. Now I can leave again."

Kalibose opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, and made a frustrated noise.

Mae gave him a bemused look. "What?"

"I am _not _saying something insulting to you, because we are friends. It is taking an immense effort to do so."

Mae's eyes glinted with mischief.

"Oh, are we at the point in our friendship where we can be brutally honest with each other? Because sometimes you are a complete ass, Kalibose Woodstalker."

He looked at her a moment with one eyebrow raised.

"Well, you aren't wrong."

Mae giggled at him, and then looked down at her hands. She was wearing a clean sleeveless tunic, and he could see clearly a set of new scars on her upper arm. He was glad that her wounds were healed, but he felt bad that they had waited so long that they ended up scarring.

"In all honesty, I've done everything I need to do here. I contacted Master Lau, and he said I'd done more than enough to complete my final trials. So I'm free from that. I've seen my parents and talked to them. They understand that I will not be staying. Sorry about my mom, by the way. She gets a little emotional."

"It's alright."

"I've seen my prophecy to its conclusion, and thankfully, it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. So as far as I'm concerned, I can do whatever I like now. And I'd like," she glanced up at him shyly and Kalibose felt a blush start to color his cheeks, "to travel with you. If you are not opposed?"

He found it difficult to meet her eyes, but he reached forward as much as he was able and took her hand.

"I would like that."

It took another couple days to get the paperwork settled to Commander Shadowleaf's satisfaction, and for Mae to recover fully. She took charge of gathering supplies so they would be prepared once they crossed the border. On that day, the commander offered to arrange a cart for them, but at Kalibose's horrified refusal, they ended up walking. It was only about an hour's hike to the edge of the forest anyway. They let him keep the hood of his dampening cloak down as they went, and it wasn't that bad. Alisael led the way, and they were escorted by the original Sentinels who found them: Melinara, Malaren, and his partner Kira. Alisael was stoic, but Melinara whispered excitedly with the other two as they went. Kalibose kept his eyes forward: he wanted out of these bonds, he wanted his staff back (which was covered and bound as well as he was, and on Mae's back along with hers) and he wanted to not waste one second to get started on his journey with Mae. They had a return trip mapped out that would avoid the lake and take them to the first flightpath that was available, and they should have no problem getting out of Stonetalon this time.

Finally Kalibose could see the edge of the forest in front of them. Melinara went first, scaling a tree and scouting out the surrounding area for enemies. Once she called all clear, they made their way across. He heard her thump down to the forest floor behind them.

He could tell when they crossed the actual border: the Mark on his forehead tingled dumbly, but it did not light up as he half-expected. The youngling Sentinels removed the magic-dampening items from his person while Alisael kept an eye on them. Finally he was able to stretch his arms completely, and Mae handed over a new pack filled with supplies, and his staff. As soon as he unwrapped it, the crystal lit up purple, and Kalibose could feel the naaru's irritation at being bound magically like that. He strapped the staff to his back, and felt like a complete person for the first time in several days. Alisael waited until he was completely ready, then pointed her glaive at him threateningly.

"I don't want to see you back here again, Outcast."

He lifted his hands in innocence. "I don't plan on it."

She turned and in a breath had disappeared into the trees. Malaren and Kira followed her, but Melinara waved to him with a smile before following suit.

He turned to face the wilds of Stonetalon. In the morning sun, with his freedom ahead of him and no restraints, the landscape was almost pretty to look at. He leaned over Mae's shoulder, who was opening a map.

"So where to first?"

"Besides the hippogryph master? I believe we spoke earlier about dragons."

She pointed to the southern half of Dustwallow Marsh. Kalibose reached down and confidently took her hand. She smiled up at him as she put the map back in her pack. He had the world at his feet and sunshine in his hands.

Life had never been better.

"Dragons it is then."


	18. Epilogue

**Author's Notes: I'm going to go ahead and post the Epilogue, seeing as it only took me a couple hours to polish it up. The next story will be started Sunday evening, the 13th of September. That will give me a bit of time to work on illustrations for each chapter, which will be posted on my deviantArt (username zarabethedraws). Thank you so much everyone for reading, and see the end note for more. **

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_Several Months Later_

"This city is fucking ridiculous."

Kalibose's irritated voice drifted up to her, but Mae only paid it a cursory amount of attention. _There was so much here._ She climbed higher on the parapet, inhaling deeply of the salty sea air. No matter how high up she got, she couldn't hope to see the top of the watch towers. Carefully, she put one foot up on the stone barricade that served as a safety measure around the top. The stone she stepped on was wobbly, and she stopped to sit down and take off her boots.

Their venture to the Wyrmbog in southern Dustwallow Marsh had been, without a doubt, very successful. They had found dragons, explored lost nooks and crannies, and once they were loaded down with dragon gold and treasures, they had thought it would be prudent to seek out a sort of home base. After a few days of deliberation, their choice was made for them. The rare goods dealer in Ratchet had directed them to a specialty store in the mage quarter of Stormwind. As soon as the word had been spoken aloud, Mae felt a curious buzzing in her chest. She had grabbed Kalibose's hand excitedly and practically drug him out the door and to the docks to buy tickets.

They had only been here an hour, and were still in the harbour, but Mae was more sure than ever this was the perfect place for them. She was so excited she thought she might burst. Feeling out the stones with her bare toes, she stepped carefully around the barricade. It was made to keep young ones from falling off the short observatory tower, but it did nothing to deter the inquisitive monk. Mae stood on her tiptoes on the highest point of the barricade, and again breathed in the air. She could feel the souls of the inhabitants of the city, she could feel the individual threads of fate that twisted around each one and tangled with each other. A light touch here, a drifting catch there, a knot so tight it could never be unraveled: there was so much potential in this city that she thought, if she lived here the rest of her natural life, she might never witness it all.

"I mean look at this map, it makes no sense at all. Why the hell is the cemetery in the middle of town, and why does it exit straight into the harbour—Mae!"

She felt a hand on her ankle, and she delicately stepped out of Kalibose's grip. He had to stand on his toes to even reach her, she was so far up.

"Mae! What are you doing up there, you'll fall!"

Mae bent at the waist and patted Kalibose on top of his head, which seemed to make him even more aggravated. He had his hood pulled up, as if he were trying to hide from every living thing in the city, and Mae could only catch a glimpse of his flashing eyes beneath.

"I'm not going to fall, silly. I'm trying to see everything!"

"Well come down and help me figure out this map, and we'll see whatever you want to. I can't even find a direct path out of here, let alone to that shop we need."

Mae pouted at having to leave the lofty height of the parapet. It was so easy to catch the winds of fate up here, up where they were less tangled. Kalibose glanced up at her and shook his head.

"Come down, I haven't found the hospital yet. If you break something you'd be out of luck."

Mae sighed and picked up her pack. Slinging it over her shoulder, she hopped down, landing lightly on her toes in front of Kalibose. He glanced at her and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I'm not even going to ask where your shoes are. Let's just try and find this place, okay?"

The air grew thick with humidity and possibilities as they traversed the multiple sets of stairs to the ground level of the rest of Stormwind. By the time they reached the top, Kalibose was winded and even she could feel the burn in her legs. The morning had dawned cool enough but she could tell it was going to be hot by noontide. They located the main entrance to the city, but as they drew further in to the sounds and smells of the canal shops, Mae found she no longer needed to see the map. Something was calling her. It was like a delicious smell, wafting on the edge of the wind and it drew her in. She pulled ahead of Kalibose, skipping along on her toes, letting the draw of fate move her.

"Wait Mae, that's not the right—fuck it, where are you going now?"

She was not listening. She could feel it, right on the edge of her vision: the feeling was so strong it was nearly a full-blown prophecy, and she wasn't going to lose it now. She ducked through a stone archway, under an apple tree heavy with fruit, and around a trash bin. There she pulled up short so fast that Kalibose, having to jog to keep up, nearly ran her over. He panted, trying to catch his breath, and collapsed on a nearby stone bench.

"What in the world has gotten into you today? This is the Cathedral district, not the mage quarter. Although you seem to have found the hospital, good job on that."

Mae turned in a slow circle. The feeling was completely stationary here, but there was nothing around them. No people, no shops, not even an animal except a few pigeons lurking around the steps of the Cathedral.

"I don't understand, it was so strong, and now it's gone?"

Kalibose gave a cursory glance around, but she could see that he thought that she had been mistaken somehow. The thought ignited a fire in her: her feelings were _never_ wrong. There was something here, she just had to find it. She searched the branches of the tree next to them, then under the bushes. Kalibose watched her for a moment before using his staff to pull him upright again.

"Come on Mae, there's nothing here. Let's just go find this shop and then we'll get lunch, okay? I think I'm over being seasick now."

He put a hand on her shoulder, and she nearly turned and followed him, but something in the trash bin caught her eye. There was a flyer sticking out of the top, just the edge of it, and as she reached for it, she knew she had found it. She scanned the contents as Kalibose grumbled under his breath.

"Mae, please don't dig in the trash..."

"Kalibose, isn't this your sister's name?"

She pointed to the name at the bottom of the flyer. He took it from her hesitantly.

_You Are Invited to the Wedding of Elforen and Zarabethe Silverleaf, September 27__th__ at 2:00 in the Afternoon._

There was an address scribbled below that, and at the very bottom, _R.S.V.P. Lorel Woodstalker._

* * *

**End Note: And now we have come full circle. My original intent with this story was to show all that had transpired to have Kalibose and Mae crash Elf and Zara's wedding at the end of Scepter, and now we are there. I understand some of you have read this without reading anything else of mine. You are certainly entitled to: however, I would suggest you go read Scepter now and see the rest of the story. It is the story of Zarabethe, but it is also the story of Kalibose's estranged brother, Talrend. For more of Kalibose and Mae, if you simply cannot wait until Sunday evening, might I suggest Scepter: A Winter Veil Special (a short story) and Hope Springs (a one-shot). Thank you for reading, and we'll see you on Sunday.**


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