The Mark of a Predator [Warden] [Complete]

[Scout]

Chapter I
Chapter II
Chapter III
Chapter IV
Chapter V
Chapter VI

The gentle scratching of the pen against paper was supplemented by a single candle, placed on the corner of the desk. It was a new candle, its sides having not been marked by beads of molten wax trickling down the edge. The pen paused on the paper, and the night elf sitting at the desk let out a light sigh.

Ylvandre, Ylvandre...

Scritch scritch scritch.

It would be difficult to find her, she knew. Ylvandre Darksorrow took to wandering like a cat, never lingering in any one place for long, never showing any sign of a pattern. The last she had heard, the enigmatic sentinel was staying in Azshara Crater, and had done so for some time. The kaldorei woman dripped wax onto the envelope and sealed it.

Let's hope she's still there by the time the runner makes it.

The woman stood and walked out of the study, and waiting just under the roof was a younger girl in a dark, hooded cloak. It was drizzling outside, and a fine mist of water had collected on the girl's shoulders. She looked up at the woman, silvery eyes glowing faintly, and took the letter.

She was a good runner.

--

Whistling in the air, Ylvandre's blades whirled around her in a flurry. She made each step of her drill by memory, one foot crossing over the other as she advanced, swooping at an invisible foe. Graceful in her movements, she twisted around to face behind her and brought her left blade up into a parry. It didn't look like an exercise so much as a choreographed dance, but every fight was a dance. One false step could mean the difference between victory and defeat. This fight was no different.

Ylvandre stopped her blade in midair, barely moving it. She stared ahead intently, and saw the silver gleam across her vision of a delicately woven spider's web. The edge of her blade hovered just above it, and in the middle she saw the dark speck of a female spider, settled in the threads. She drew her blade back, and her eyes flitted across the web.

Self-control was key. Vigilance was key.

The gentle crunch of grass beneath leather boots alerted Ylvandre to the arrival of another, and she glanced over her shoulder at the runner. "Yes?"

"Sentinel Darksorrow?" The runner's eyes followed the strokes of Ylvandre's tattoos, twisting and winding across her skin.

"Yes."

"A message for you."

Ylvandre stepped to the runner and took it. "Thank you."

"Elune guide you!" The runner turned around and headed off with a start. Ylvandre broke the wax seal on the envelope.

She read the letter in silence.

[Scout]

Ylvandre walked through the woods of Ashenvale in silence. Faint columns of moonlight found their way through the leaves here and there, but Ashenvale was a place of darkness. The forest was, for the most part, wild and untamed. Ylvandre wouldn't have it any other way.

Her teacher took to telling her that she should always remain cautious, and that if there were any opportunity that an opponent could exploit, they would do so immediately, so she remained as vigilant as she had always been. Her tattoos were reminder enough; she hardly needed a mentor to tell her that much.

The sentinel came to a glade in the forest, the moonlight illuminating the grasses with silvery light. She stepped out into it and peered up at the stars for a brief moment, a soft sigh escaping her lips. She didn't see the blade coming, and it sliced into her back callously. Ylvandre whirled around, whipping out her blades, and managed to just parry a second blow from the distinctive, hoop-shaped sword. She jumped back, holding her blades up defensively. The warden had a steely gaze, and hers seemed to be locked to Ylvandre's.

"Constant vigilance, Darksorrow."

Ylvandre furrowed her brow, but said nothing. The warden extended a taloned gauntlet and beckoned her closer, and Ylvandre complied.

"Habits get people killed. Remember this."

"Yes, Shan'do."

Anevsa Whispersong was concise and to the point with all of her instructions. She looked over Ylvandre. "Your reaction time has improved. Had I actually been trying to kill you, you may have survived long enough to escape."

Ylvandre smiled a little. "Thank you."

"You need to survive long enough to kill, not flee." The warden glanced about for a fleeting moment, always alert. "Needless to say, it will come with time, and you do rather well, for a student."

Ylvandre pursed her lips. "How long were you following me?"

"Long enough. It's not important." There was a moment of silence as Anevsa gave Ylvandre an appraising glance. "You have at least proven that you can fight."

Anevsa moved to walk past, and Ylvandre frowned. "A month of training and I have only proven that I can fight?"

Anevsa shot a reprimanding glance over her shoulder. "Did you think this would be easy? You are by no means bound to do this, and should you think that this is too difficult, then I won't give it a second thought if you just walk away."

Ylvandre chose not to complain. The warden reached into her cloak, the bladed edges brushing against the ground. "Needless to say, you have done enough fighting." She turned to face Ylvandre again and presented a dagger to her, handle forward. Ylvandre stepped forward and took it. Anevsa made a small nod. "How skilled at throwing are you?"

"Skilled enough."

"That isn't an answer." Anevsa slid a dagger into her hand, and then it was flying through the air. It hit a tree to Ylvandre's right in the very center of the trunk. "Skilled enough to do that?"

Ylvandre stared. "N-no."

"Then you are not skilled enough." Anevsa took another dagger from where it hung in the inside of her cloak. "A moonglaive is well and good, but a blade is a whole different field. It is simple, and it is elegant." With another momentary glance, the warden threw this blade too, but as it sliced through the air, it seemed to split at the tip, and where there was once one, there were many. Some hit the tree, but most simply vanished into the woods. "Above all, it is deadly."

Struck by awe, Ylvandre was incapable of forming words to adequately voice her thoughts. She looked down to the dagger she held in her hand. It seemed ordinary enough, even plain, and she couldn't imagine how it might turn itself into more.

"Your convictions will be your driving force, and so you mustn't falter," Anevsa said.

Ylvandre glanced up at the warden, and nodded. "I'll try."

"Either succeed or fail. If you try, you will accomplish nothing." A clawed hand gestured to the tree next to the first. "Show me."

Ylvandre turned to face the tree and, in an imitation of Anevsa, she threw the knife. It glanced against the side of the tree, leaving only a small mark.

"Aim for one specific point."

The knives were much different from moonglaives, and it took a few throws for Ylvandre to get adjusted, but the memories of sentinel training came back to her soon enough, and it wasn't terribly long before she could strike the tree consistently. As Anevsa handed her the next knife, she said, "This one will split when you throw it."

Ylvandre looked at Anevsa incredulously, raising a brow. "How?"

"You will make it split."

"I can't just make it split, I don't know how."

"Force it to split, and it will do so. You've heard what I've been telling to you these past weeks, have you not?"

Ylvandre hesitated, then nodded slightly.

"Then you have been prepared enough."

Ylvandre looked to the tree again, and gritted her teeth. She whipped the knife toward the tree, and it slid out of her hand. Two knives hit the tree, quivering near one another. She stared at the tree, blinking. "How did I...?"

"You put your feelings into the blade. It felt your sense of retribution and vengeance, and it responded in kind."

Ylvandre looked back to the warden. "But how did you know I would be able to do it?"

"I've seen it enough to know, Darksorrow." She eyed over Ylvandre. "Go back to Astranaar and see to your wound. When I see you next, you will be able to make five daggers from one. Is that understood?"

Ylvandre nodded in understanding. "Yes, Shan'do."

"In four days, before sunset, you will be at the Raynewood Retreat." The warden vanished from sight. Ylvandre looked around for a moment, then sighed quietly to herself. She led herself back toward Astranaar.

[Scout]

"Do not try to run from me, Darksorrow."

"I wasn't running, Shan'do."

Anevsa Whispersong glared at Ylvandre, talon-like gauntlets locked fast around her moon sword. The two of them were in Duskwood, dark trees all around, and no one but the worgen to hear them for miles around. The warden was on top of a log, her eyes fixed on Ylvandre. "I haven't seen you in Ashenvale for months. For a while I had thought perhaps you decided that the path of the Warden was too taxing for you."

"I was here with Sylvandre, with the Pride and the Council of–"

"Spare me your excuses, Darksorrow. If it weren't for the fact that Cloudtear is a warden, your training would be at an end."

Ylvandre fell silent. Anevsa stood from her crouching position on the log and jumped onto the ground, her cloak billowing around her and then settling, knives clinking against each other. "Your training is second to none, Darksorrow. Remember this."

"Yes, Shan'do."

"I expect to see you back in Ashenvale the next time I need you. I will give you a week from now."

"Yes, Shan'do."

Anevsa pulled Ylvandre up onto her feet, the gauntlets piercing into the flesh of her shoulder like huge needles, with just enough pressure to make pinpricks of blood form. "I have a lesson for you. Are you ready?"

"Yes, Shan'do."

"Follow me."

Ylvandre went in dejected silence, staring at the bottom edge of Anevsa's cloak as she walked. The warden had found her just minutes earlier, having tracked her down all the way from Kalimdor. Ylvandre had thought that her business with the Council of Blades was important enough that she would have no issue with justifying it to Anevsa, but she had been proven mistaken. The simple fact that Anevsa was still willing to train her gave her some small glimmer of hope and happiness, but it was far overwhelmed by the shame that permeated her being.

Anevsa led her to the edge of a small bluff, overlooking a flatter expanse of trees and plants that grew up underneath. The occasional hoot of a distant owl and the gentle hum of what few insects could stand to live here was all that could be heard. "You have learned the slicing torrent well, I feel. Despite your inexplicable absence, you have proven to be a good student. I feel you are ready to learn this next technique."

"Thank you, Shan'do." Ylvandre looked up as she spoke, and Anevsa gazed at her for a moment in silence, her judgmental stare smothering Ylvandre's thoughts.

"The next maneuver that I will show you is called the dimension blink. It is, in essence, the ability to disappear, and then reappear in any spot nearby that you can see." Anevsa flourished her talons and, in an instant, disappeared in a blue-white cloud of energy. Ylvandre immediately felt the cold, metallic touch of her gauntlets, and turned to face her teacher, not wanting to incur any further wounds to her person.

"It is by far one of the most useful abilities that you will learn as a warden, and one of the ones that you might use most frequently. It allows you to weave through a fight, chase down your quarry, and escape from a greater foe. It allows you to manipulate the battlefield, change it depending on your whims, and give yourself and your allies the upper hand. It allows you to stop relying on chance and put yourself above your enemy."

"I understand, Shan'do."

"Do you?"

Ylvandre was silent.

Anevsa turned her back to Ylvandre and walked toward a tree, faint crunches resounding as she trod on the dry plants underfoot. "It may be a difficult technique for you to learn, but I am confident that you will--"

As Anevsa turned back around to face Ylvandre, she only just managed to raise her moonsword to block her as the sentinel rushed her, unleashing a furious flurry of strikes. She caught one of Ylvandre's blades in one of the notches of her moonsword and weaved around her.

"Good, Darksorrow! Press the advantage!"

Ylvandre never hesitated in her assault, and with every moment of perceived weakness, she made another strike, trying to overcome Anevsa, but the warden never faltered, always bringing around her moonsword again just in time, whirling around with the blades of her cloak flying every which way, putting Ylvandre on the defensive from time to time, but never fighting off her aggressor. The warden disappeared and Ylvandre quickly looked around, spotted the warden, and charged her yet again, dancing with her own blades.

"Don't chase me, Darksorrow! Corner me! Running will be of no use to you now!"

The warden blinked yet again, she swiped with her leg, Ylvandre was thrown off balance and now she was the one defending against an endless onslaught of blows, every attack she made was countered by the ever-swirling knife-edged cloak, making regaining the advantage nigh impossible.

Ylvandre was not a warden yet, but the warden's spark was within her.

She pressed on forward, despite the moonsword and the knives, and she took a knife from her bracer, throwing it toward Anevsa, but even as she did so, the warden disappeared yet again, the torrent slicing only thin air. Footsteps alerted her to her rival's presence, and she swiftly turned and bolted toward what she heard.

"Focus now, Darksorrow! Cast your conviction about you and find me!"

A glimmer of metal shimmered in front of Ylvandre, amidst the trees and thick shrubs, and she forced herself toward it. Suddenly, she was standing next to the warden, but the sudden shift disoriented her, and she lost her balance, toppling over into the thankfully forgiving plants around her. Silence filled the air around her, the lone owl hooting wistfully.

"Good."

A taloned sets of claws reached down for Ylvandre, and she took Anevsa's hand, pulling herself up. "You will become a warden yet, Darksorrow. I can feel it."

Ylvandre found herself grinning from ear to ear. "Thank you, Shan'do."

"Practice the dimension blink, and meet me in Astranaar in a week. We have much to do."

[Scout]

Booty Bay was far from a paradise, especially in its current state. The plague had only just been cleansed from the area, the last of the infected rooted out and cured of their illness or killed, but it still held signs of the chaos and mindless destruction that had ravaged the city. Charred wood, debris and still lay strewn around the alleys, the darkened paths where those few scrupulous patrons never ventured to wander.

Ylvandre picked up a broken plank, singed at one end, frowning. "The chaos here was deafening."

"So I have heard." Anevsa stood next to one of the walls. Uncharacteristically, she was not clad in her armor, but she kept her telltale cloak, the moon sword hidden underneath its folds. She kept her white hair short, tying it back out of her eyes. "It was good that you told me that you were going to be here."

"Is there a lesson that you wish to impart, Shan'do?" Ylvandre dropped the wooden plank onto the ground, looking to Anevsa.

"Yes, that is why I am here." Anevsa beckoned to Ylvandre with a claw. "We shall not learn it here, but you will learn it today."

The two night elves stepped out of the alleyway, making their way out toward the entrance to the city. Booty Bay was always a crowded place, even with the recent disasters that took place. It seemed as though nothing could stop goblin capitalism. Ylvandre was glad when they reached the gaping maw of the entrance to Booty Bay. Anevsa was quiet until then; she never shared her thoughts on her surroundings, nor on the goblins themselves.

"It is a curious place for you to go," Anevsa finally said, once the two were well outside the city and into the jungle nearby. The air was thick and humid, much unlike Ashenvale.

"Fala'thorei asked me to come here earlier, when the plague was still widespread."

"He is one of the demon hunters you have mentioned."

"Yes, he is." Ylvandre glanced at Anevsa. She was always difficult to read, even now that her face wasn't obscured.

"Remember why they are outcasts, Darksorrow."

"You don't have to remind me." Ylvandre shifted uncomfortably nonetheless. The warden could see right through her. She still wore those taloned gauntlets, despite being mostly unarmored. Ylvandre clutched her shoulder instinctively.

"In their desire to fight the Legion and other malefic forces, they have gone one step too far. They have embraced that which they intend to fight. They have given up their integrity, their very essence of being, so that they can fight a fight that they will inevitably lose."

Ylvandre's stomach clenched as she forced the words from her throat. "But they do fight for our cause."

"If they fail, they have only proven to be dead weight. If they succeed, then they spiral down the well of corruption until they give the Legion an ally so powerful that none can stand to them."

Ylvandre had no more words. Anevsa stepped forward, gripping Ylvandre's shoulder. "Exercise caution when you are near them. They are not trustworthy, no matter how noble their intentions may seem."

Ylvandre could do nothing but nod silently. The warden released her. She had left blood trickling from Ylvandre's shoulder again. "Before you learn this next technique, there is something I must discuss with you."

"What is it, Shan'do?"

"There will come a time, soon, when you will learn of some of the greater powers of our path. You will need to be prepared." Anevsa shifted her stance slightly, knives jingling in her cloak like a hundred tiny chimes. "As with all wardens before you, you will learn how to invoke the Avatar."

Ylvandre furrowed her brow. "What is it?"

"It is the manifestation of your vengeance."

A strained moment passed. Ylvandre took a deep breath. "How do I prepare for this?"

"Self control is key. Vigilance is key. The Avatar will consume you unless you can control it instead. If you have been listening at all, then you may stand something of a chance." Anevsa unclipped her moon sword from her belt. "That, however, will not be for some time, and there are other matters to attend to." She extended it for Ylvandre. "Take it."

The moon sword was an awesome weapon, and Ylvandre couldn't help but hesitate before reaching out and wrapping her fingers around the hilt. It felt strange in her grip; it wasn't entirely balanced toward the hilt, but the weight was still distributed throughout the whole weapon. She swung it experimentally while Anevsa watched on. "It's beautiful."

"At the end of our session today, if you have proven yourself satisfactorily, I will grant you one of these weapons."

Ylvandre stared at Anevsa, faltering in her movements. "Really?"

"Only if you can first master the shadow strike. Keep that weapon for now. It will serve you well until this session is over."

"The shadow strike?"

Anevsa plucked a knife from within her cloak, and within an instant dark lines and a tangible aura became present around it, black and purple clouds caressing the blade, and a red light clearly visible within. "The next thing that I strike with this blade will cause the energy I have built up within to release. It is a potent and lethal technique, and it continues to linger long after the initial strike, causing the wound to only grow worse."

The warden looked at Ylvandre expectantly. Ylvandre glanced at the moon sword in her hands. It wasn't clear to her how exactly that weapon would become a vessel for destructive power. She sighed and looked back to Anevsa. "How do I do this?"

"Allow your anger, your convictions and your vengeance to empower your weapon, and it will respond in kind."

"I do not have any anger to give it, Shan'do."

"Everyone has some anger, Darksorrow. You just need to isolate yours."

Ylvandre remained silent for a few moments, looking at the weapon, and then she looked back up at Anevsa again. "How can you tell me that my anger will fuel my power when just earlier you warned me of how demon hunters fall to corruption?"

"That's hardly a fair comparison. Demon hunters use fel magic, which is inherently corrupting. This is about controlling your emotions, not using them for raw power."

"You make it sound like I should develop anger for the sole purpose of this attack."

"Not just anger. You need to focus on this, not get sidetracked by these meaningless thoughts."

"They are not meaningless, Shan'do!"

"Focus, Darksorrow!"

Ylvandre bit her lip, looking down at the moon sword again. She closed her eyes, attempting to concentrate, but she felt nothing. Anevsa was being vague, again. How was she supposed to be able to do this effectively if she didn't know what exactly she was supposed to do? She clenched her teeth, but it wouldn't come.

"Don't try to force it, just allow it to happen."

Anevsa was pushing her too hard. She was already trying her best to make it happen, she didn't need to be told what to do. Her mind drifted to other things, trying to distract her from Anevsa's words, and she thought of Fala'thorei and Navren, the two demon hunters. What was she supposed to do? She thought that she trusted them, but Anevsa never said anything lightly, and it was a dark path that they followed. If she supported them, was she helping the enemy?

She would help them, so long as they were still sane, she decided. So long as they were still hunting down evil instead of assisting them, she would fight and even die alongside them, and Anevsa wouldn't be the one to stop her.

Ylvandre opened her eyes, and, focusing on the blade, she noticed it had become sheathed in darkness. She yelped and dropped it to the ground, and the energy dissipated as soon as it left her hands.

Anevsa smiled knowingly, and stepped forward. Ylvandre looked up at her. It was the first time she had noticed Anevsa smiling; perhaps she had done so before, under the helmet, but she never showed it, that much was certain. "Well done, Ylvandre."

Warmth spread through Ylvandre's person, and she smiled back. "Thank you, Shan'do."

"You will have to practice this technique many more times, I feel, before it becomes instinctive to you." The warden pulled back her cloak, and presented a large, cloth-wrapped moon sword to her. "Here is your moon sword. We will go over the exact uses of it at our next meeting, but for now, become acquainted with its weight. Learn how to make it an extension of your body, instead of simply a weapon."

Ylvandre bowed her head. She gave Anevsa's moon sword back to her, and took her own. "Thank you, Shan'do."

"Until next we meet, Thero'shan."

[Scout]

The teacher and her student were both on the slopes of the Stonetalon peak, sparse trees sprouting from the dusty brown earth here and there, but this high up, there was little vegetation. Not far above them, the snow-capped tip of the mountain was clearly visible. Even here, below the snow line, harsh breezes whipped across Ylvandre's flesh, sending ripples of cold through her. She was thankful for the length of her cloak, draping around her and, for the most part, protecting her from the cold.

"How was your journey here, Darksorrow?" Anevsa said. She was once again clad in her form-concealing armor, the metal plates all but obscuring every last vestige of vulnerability on her person.

"It was eventful, Shan'do. There were several people that I met on the way up the mountain."

Anevsa's claws clicked against her leg plate from within her cloak. "Another kaldorei?"

Ylvandre hesitated. "Some, yes. A sentinel sister and a brother, but I also had an encounter with a sin'dorei and a shu'halo."

"What did you do with the sin'dorei?"

"I fought her, and defeated her." Ylvandre didn't hesitate in her speech. She had fought the blood elf, but not to the death, and it had been more of a spar. Killing the blood elf while she was sitting at the tree would not have been right.

"Did you hesitate?"

"...Yes, I did." Ylvandre sighed lightly. Anevsa never missed details.

"You must never hesitate. Every missed opportunity is one that your enemy might turn against you. Remember that, Darksorrow."

"Yes, Shan'do."

Anevsa was carrying a bundle, Ylvandre noticed. The warden lay it down on a flat patch of rocky dirt with delicacy, the loose burlap billowing on the ground. "There are two major points that I would like to address in this lesson, the first and foremost of which being the uses of your moon sword. However, in this session, you will also learn to use the cloak of knives without damaging yourself." She unclipped her own moon sword from her belt and held it out for Ylvandre to see. It was much like Ylvandre's, though more worn from use, but it was no less of a beautiful weapon.

"Take it," Anevsa said.

Ylvandre took the moon sword from Anevsa, holding it in her hand. "What do you want me to do with it?"

"Simply hold it, for now." Anevsa stepped away. "There are two particularly useful abilities which the moon sword possesses. A moon sword is bonded with the warden that wields it. This bond means that the moon sword and the warden can never be permanently separated. By simply exerting my will, I can cause the moon sword to return to me." The moon sword vanished from Ylvandre's hand and appeared in Anevsa's grip. Ylvandre looked up at Anevsa instantly.

"The moon sword is also enchanted to allow it to be thrown easily, despite its perhaps unwieldy size." Anevsa threw the moon sword out over the mountain; moments later, it returned to her hand again. She approached Ylvandre again. "Show me that you know this by doing this now."

"Shan'do, how can you expect me to be able to do this immediately?"

Anevsa snatched forward, and before Ylvandre knew it, the warden had ensnared her moon sword in her talon and tossed it down the mountain. "It's simple. Envision it in your hand, and it will appear there. The framework has already been lain down for it."

Ylvandre gaped, staring at the moonsword as it rolled down the mountainside. She closed her eyes. Anevsa made it sound so simple...

Her moon sword appeared in her hand easily, without strain. She inspected it; it was dirty, but otherwise unscathed. Anevsa nodded in approval. "Well done."

"Please don't do that again, Shan'do..."

"It may well happen to you again in the heat of combat. When that happens, will you be paralyzed?"

"No, Shan'do."

"Good." Anevsa turned over her moon sword, revealing a bare patch on the handle. "The second and most important feature of the moon sword is the ability to track a target. By writing any name on the handle, you are revealed the direction in which you must travel in order to reach the person with that name, and you are immediately notified of their death if it occurs. They cannot hide themselves from you; you will be able to see through any tricks or disguises, magical or otherwise."

Anevsa presented a stick of charcoal to Ylvandre. She took it, turning over her moon sword to look at the bare patch of handle. She gazed at it in silence for several moments. There wasn't anyone that she knew that she particularly wanted to hunt down and kill. Perhaps some that she would like to know the location of, but nobody she wanted to kill...

She wrote the name "Fala'thorei Duskrunner" on the handle. Instantly, she felt a tugging sensation deep within her, pointing in a direction. She looked out into the distance, into the horizon, but despite her hopes, she did not see Fala'thorei standing there.

"Good." Anevsa began to untie the burlap sack. "You now know how to use your moon sword effectively, I should hope. Mastering the cloak of knives, however, will not be an easy task." Reaching into the sack, she carefully removed a long black cloak. The sounds of many tiny blades clinking against each other were clearly prevalent as Anevsa presented the cloak to Ylvandre. "The first challenge will be to simply wear it without killing yourself."

Ylvandre allowed Anevsa to take off her current cloak wrap the cloak of knives around her. She remained very still for a time, unwilling to risk being cut by the razor edges. Anevsa always kept her gaze on her, hawk-eyed.

"You have fought in a cloak all this time, have you not?"

Ylvandre nodded.

"Simply apply those principles to this. You already know how to keep yourself from tripping over yourself. Just allow yourself to become more acutely aware of your movements within the cloak."

Movement was not so difficult as Ylvandre had imagined; the knives sometimes drifted perilously close to her skin, but they never cut her, and it was not long before she felt moderately comfortable within the cloak, being able to move normally without fear of being slit open. Anevsa was right. Wearing the cloak came naturally to her.

"It is important to remember that while wearing this cloak, it is incredibly difficult for your adversaries to approach you, so long as you wield it correctly. You are a threat to anyone around you, and knowing that, you can easily keep yourself from being surrounded, allowing you to control the battlefield and not vice versa."

Anevsa stepped forward to Ylvandre. "Turn around and look out over the mountain."

Ylvandre did so. It was quite a drop down from where she was, almost terrifyingly so. She thought back to her moon sword tumbling down the near-vertical slope, and imagined herself doing the same, knives lacerating her every bit of the way.

"There are several abilities that you may invoke from the cloak by simply focusing, as you do to return your moon sword to you. These include the ability to slow your fall, jump incredible distances, climb vertical walls or even ceilings, and cause you to levitate above the ground."

Ylvandre looked back to Anevsa. "I understand."

"Good." Anevsa placed her hand on Ylvandre's shoulder, the point of her talons piercing ever so slightly into her flesh again. "I consider you to be a warden now, but your training is not yet over."

"Thank you, Shan'do." Ylvandre smiled faintly. Anevsa remained stoic. Ylvandre could never see past that mask.

"When next we meet, you will learn to summon the Avatar."

A chill went through Ylvandre's spine as she heard mention of that thing. She had had just enough time to allow the thoughts of it to fester in her mind, trying to imagine what sort of terrible thing it was. The manifestation of her vengeance, and no doubt her anger as well. She had tried to imagine what it would look like, but only foggy shapes presented themselves to her, nothing clear and defined. The manifestation of her vengeance, and no doubt her anger as well, and she knew full well that it may consume her if she weren't strong enough...

She was afraid.

"Are you afraid?"

She was afraid.

"It is understandable that you might be. I have faith in you, Thero'shan."

"...Thank you, Shan'do."

[Scout]

Ashenvale's perpetual twilight permeated into everything, blending the forest with charcoal shadows and muted pastel trees and plants. Anevsa and Ylvandre stood across from one another. Anevsa's steely gaze was unfazed by the murky forest light, always piercing into Ylvandre. She gave a slight nod. "I suppose that you have prepared yourself."

"As much as I possibly can, Shan'do," Ylvandre said. In truth, she had little idea of how best to prepare for this day. She didn't know what Anevsa would ask of her, how she would go about summoning this thing, or anything else, so she had put herself in tune with her emotions, attempting to remain as aware of them as possible.

"This will be our final lesson, should you succeed," Anevsa said. "After this, I shall release you, and you will no longer be bound to me. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Shan'do."

"Come to me." Ylvandre stepped forward, stopping in front of Anevsa. "What do you think that you will need to do to invoke the Avatar?"

"I don't know, Shan'do."

"A pity." Anevsa eyed Ylvandre, her gaze flitting over her. "I would think that by this point, you would know how to channel your emotions for your own ends."

"I do know, Shan'do."

"Prove it to me, Darksorrow. If you cannot do so to channel the Avatar, then why should you be able to in any other case?"

"You have seen me use the slicing torrent, the dimension blink, the shadow strike... what more proof could you ask for?"

Anevsa shook her head. "All of it is meaningless in this light."

Ylvandre knew better than to ask more questions. Anevsa stepped around her, keeping her eyes on her. "There must be something that fills you with a drive for vengeance, Darksorrow. Let it fill your mind. How about your dead druid?"

Ylvandre's heart stopped for a moment. She tried not to show it, but she clenched her fist regardless. "How do you know about Narilden?"

"It's fairly common knowledge why you left the Sentinels, Darksorrow. You should be aware of the fact that we looked into your background before we offered to train you. How is this surprising to you?"

"I hardly speak about it to anyone these days."

"Hardly an excuse. It has already happened, and there are records. Your tattoos are one of them."

Anevsa was larger than Ylvandre when she was in armor, and she loomed over her. Ylvandre took a step back. "It's in the past. Why should I care for it now?"

"You loved him, didn't you?"

Ylvandre was silent, dumbfounded. She couldn't bring thoughts to her mind to adequately respond to Anevsa. The warden closed the distance again, towering over her. "Ah, yes, you did. You loved him. He died, and you did nothing. How does that make you feel?"

"Stop!" Ylvandre kicked out at Anevsa, but she was gone before her boot could connect, standing some feet back. She fumed, glaring at her teacher. "I won't allow you to control me like this!"

"You already have, Ylvandre." The warden flexed her talons idly. "It's surprising how easy it is to manipulate you. I expected more."

"I can control my emotions, Anevsa."

"Then why does this affect you?"

"You are toying with me. You're picking my most sensitive parts and tugging them, trying to see if I'll break."

Anevsa clapped her hands together. "You're right. Congratulations."

"I'm not going to let you do that."

"Tell me about Fala'thorei, Ylvandre."

Ylvandre clenched her teeth. "What does he have to do with this?"

"Tell me about him and Shivala."

Ylvandre could not bring herself to speak. She stared at Anevsa, her gauntlets locked into fists, unable to concentrate on her thoughts.

"Don't tell me about them, then. But why do you think that I brought that up?"

"...How do you know about that?"

"I have been watching you, remember. Monitoring your progress. She was mentioned once. Do you remember? It was the first time you managed to create an impressive slicing torrent."

Azshara. Sylvandre and Ylvandre had been walking down the road when it had happened. Sylvandre told her about it, and Ylvandre had been unable to control herself. She had yelled and she threw a knife at a tree, and when she did, it split into five. The first time she had managed to make it split beyond two.

"Remember that anger, and let it fill you; then allow it to manifest itself."

Ylvandre clenched her eyes shut, closing off from the outside world. She didn't want to have to deal with Anevsa any more, and her manipulation and her deception. She just wanted her to be gone. She could feel the anger rising within her, and she was afraid.

--

The first step was to prime her.

The second step would be to break her.

--

The cold washed out from around the shadow's feet, draining the color out of the ground it stood on. It was wrapped in darkness, absorbing all light, with two blindingly brilliant eyes of light that contrasted so heavily with its body. It stared down at Ylvandre, unmoving, unspeaking, and she could do nothing but stare back. It reached out a hand for her, and, hesitantly, she accepted it.

The chill ran through her arm like a spike. She screamed.

And then it was real.

--

The Avatar loomed behind Ylvandre, and Anevsa looked up at it with her unfaltering gaze. "Well done, Darksorrow."

Ylvandre couldn't look back. She wouldn't allow herself to. She could feel it behind her, the cold, the acrid, almost metallic stench in her nostrils, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up straight. She looked to Anevsa, and she knew that she could see the fear in her eyes. "How do I control it?"

"It will act based on your emotions, and it will respond to what you command it to do."

Ylvandre looked back at the Avatar, and immediately wished she hadn't, closing her eyes tight. "Leave. Leave now!"

The cold faded away, lingering for a moment on her skin before dissipating entirely. She felt a hand on her shoulder. "That will be enough, Darksorrow."

--

In Astranaar, Ylvandre stood before Anevsa, and bowed to her. "Thank you, Shan'do, for everything that you have done."

"You have done well, Thero'shan. I've seen many students who will never be able to do as well as you have."

Ylvandre's face flushed with warmth, and she smiled. "Thank you."

Anevsa nodded, sighing lightly. "You're welcome... Warden Darksorrow."

Ande'thoras Ethil.