Conquest of the Horde

Full Version: Tears Without Eyes
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It wasn't as fragrant as the smell of the forest, but the scent of the salty ocean air was well-received by the blind-folded Kaldorei. The Eastern Kingdoms had born little fruit for him, and any mild amusement he garnered from observing the Humans was not enough to combat his overwhelming desire to return home. Penandion was certain there were lessons to be learned from them, but his duty to finish the work he started in Felwood came first, as did his desire to keep his word to Warden Ironraven and aid the effort against the Horde in Ashenvale.

The Demon Hunter could feel the eyes of the other passengers. They were mostly Kaldorei, like he was, but yet they were not like him. In their eyes, he was a traitor to the heritage he claimed to still serve, and in these quiet moments when there was no enemy at the tip of his blades, he found it most difficult to rebuke them. Instead, his robed form tried to remain out of sight and out of mind. He wondered if the Highborne had felt the way he did when they were banished so many millenniums ago. Did they feel their sacrifices were as justified? Did they feel that the power they tapped was for the greater good? And were they willing to pay the ultimate price once that power was no longer needed? For that matter, was Penandion himself ready for that day either?

Feeling the breeze of the sea, Penandion shivered at the thought. Much had been made of the addiction of magic, but as his fingers touched the moonglaive once wielded by his beloved, he acknowledged that vengeance could be even more so. Every demon he put down brought a euphoria to him, a sense of pride in his work as well as a measure of revenge against the Burning Legion. The problem was that the euphoria never lasted, and the realization that they were still out there brought him back down to Azeroth. His mind began to wander as he looked at his blackening fingernails. He wondered if the end of the Legion would come before the darkness in his blood and soul ceased to obey him. He wondered if he could even still live with himself if he became one of them.

He'd have to push these thoughts from his mind. He still had a job to do. He still had demons to hunt.

Until the day the hunter becomes the hunted.