Dagger

She palmed the new dagger in her right hand, peering at it curiously, a mischievous gleam in her eye.  In the intervening years, Lena had gotten used to staves, wielding the magics by channelling through those oversized walking sticks, but she had truly missed what little hand-to-hand combat she had experienced.  It had been… fun.  Besides that, it was useful.  When her inner resources were tapped, she needed to know how to hold a dagger, how to wield it to disable an enemy.  Lena licked her lips and lifted her chin again, her hood hiding her eyes as she looked up at the walls of Stormwind, white and gleaming in the sun, the goggles on the top of her head shining reflected rainbows across the stone.

Being a mage, Lena got to travel whenever she liked.  Or rather, whenever they didn’t need her.  Despite being promoted to Caretaker with her order, she still felt quite alien in their ranks, and sometimes, preferred to walk alone.  She trained with them, but often spent hours upon hours in addition, training by herself, feeling the power of the arcane building within her so that it was a physical presence, conjuring fire in so many forms, just to watch everything burn.

Sometimes, she preferred the bustle of Stormwind, the way she could pull up her hood and hide, getting lost in the throngs of the Alliance, of Stormwind’s residents and the battle-worn masses that flocked here.  Everything she needed was here – trainers, vendors, shops, a trading house… though parts of her heart tugged her back to Shattrath, for duty, for the responsibility she had to take for the Sha’nash.  But in Stormwind, she could walk the cobbled streets without her hooves echoing through empty chambers as she drifted from vendor to vendor, sampling the local treats and searching for armor that would do better to protect her.  Nor did she have to see the Broken in Lower City.  She hated to admit to having a heart, but it shattered every time she had to look upon the Broken, knowing how close she had come to being one of them.  It turned her stomach when she saw the pity others lavished upon them, but couldn’t stop herself from trying to help in whatever ways she could.  There were many reasons to stay on Aldor Rise.

Earlier in the day, she sat with one of the Stormwind mages, learning new maneuvers and tactics.  He had made her sit – and he laughed at the way her legs folded neatly under her – and meditate, eyes closed as she focused her power.  For a race with such a short lifespan, the humans certainly spent a lot of time resting.  Or at least, that is what Lena thought.  Being alive, more or less, for thousands of years had not calmed her.  She was still as anxious as ever to be the first to charge into battle, foolishly taking on the monsters from the world – and from the Horde – by herself.  But humans… how infuriatingly slow they moved sometimes!  She shook her head as she thought of them.  If she had a lifespan of, what, 80 years?  She certainly wouldn’t be meditating.

She smiled wickedly, face darkening under her hood as she drew the blade of the new dagger along her hand.  She had had one of the priests of the order enchant it before she departed for Stormwind, increasing its power.  She could almost feel it humming as she gripped the handle.  It was nearly as intoxicating as succumbing to the arcane.

Lena focused on the training dummy before her, battle scarred and burnt, reaching out a hand and nodding ominously, finding it still hot from her magical assault on it not five minutes earlier.

And she attacked.