Future X

Thuleos pulled the door shut behind him with a barely audible click. The storage vaults for Shadows had been dug into the side of the hill, built right underneath most of the settlement, and were always kept cool and dark. His small lantern would have to do. He couldn’t risk any more light. The scent of fresh herbs and smoked meats invaded his nostrils. Here, the officers, namely Nhadiya, kept stock of the resources that fed, clothed, and supplied the community. For many centuries, the vaults were consistently kept full, even in times when resources were thin on Azuremyst Isle. Thuleos shuffled past many shelves of fresh foods, fruits and vegetables native to the island, the ongoing harvests, things that would be used immediately. Next was a small room, kept cooler than the others, full of meats from animals that the likes of Thuleos himself hunted.

Thuleos had finally left Lena to sleep. He, however, continued to think as he sat in the chair by her bed. Finally, he had a concrete plan. He had slipped quietly past the druids around their campfire, knowing their whispered conversations in Darnissian would keep them distracted from any noise he made. Now, in the dim light of his lantern, he breathed a sigh. Beyond the food items, there were several more rooms, full of other supplies that kept the community clothed, busy with crafting, and well-stocked in case of any emergency. In the furthest room, there was a supply of new, never used armor and weapons. In the event that the Shadows community needed to defend itself, there were resources available, though for many centuries, they hadn’t heard from the outside world. Thuleos stepped into this room, eyeing the section of leathers and mail armor, frowning slightly. He pulled a small pair of leather pants in a mottled brown shade from the shelf, and held them up, amazed that they were so small, that Lena would likely still be swimming in them. Almost as an afterthought, he added a belt, just in case. A leather tunic would cover her upper body. Grabbing a few more pieces, he paused as he gazed at helms. His face darkened as he realized that a helm would likely have to wait until her eye healed completely. He would have to take great care in not wounding her further. He’d have to be the one to keep her clean and bandaged and apply the salves. On his way out, he considered the healing herbs that Nhadi used, hoping he was picking the right ones to make the salves. He was trained in basic combat triage, but Lena’s injuries were much more intricate.

After adding more basic supplies to his pile grabbed a couple spare packs from the wall, stuffing all the items into them before swinging them over his back. He picked up one of the spare rifles he had created, examining it, being sure it was balanced and well-crafted, suitable for Lena’s smaller frame. He made his way carefully back to her house, noting that they’d have to get moving quickly. The dark of night was turning to the grey of morning, and it wouldn’t be long before the sun gave away their every move. Inside the house, he carefully nudged Lena awake, hoping, praying he wouldn’t be met with screaming terror. Whispering her name, he urged her to get up, shaking her shoulder gently. She finally opened her eye and stared at him. He showed her the bag, pulling out the items of armor. She was tired, and moved slowly, but he helped throw off the blankets and swung her legs around off the bed. Holding up the pants, he silently asked for permission to help her dress. She nodded lethargically, and he bent to pull the leather up along her legs. Her fingers weren’t quite as nimble as they once were, but she managed to fasten the belt around her waist, keeping the baggy leather from sliding down her bottom. Thuleos handed her the tunic and turned his back as she shucked her robe and pulled on a thin shirt, then the tunic. He knelt on the floor and slid her hooves into light leather-soled moccasins that would help her move silently, muffling the clack of her hooves against harder surfaces. If she was going to be a tracker, she needed to be stealthy. It wasn’t necessarily standard, but until they trained, he would rather be safe than sorry.

Putting a small, soft loaf of bread in her hands, he stepped outside again to find their talbuks. The beasts looked at him calmly followed easily after he loaded them with the supplies. Lena’s relatively new mount, Sabel, reminded him in many ways of one from long ago, Pryt. She had always had a way with the creatures, asking for loyalty and getting it back tenfold. He hoped she had not lost that aspect of herself since her capture. He ducked back into the house and led Lena outside, holding her half finished bread and helping lift her into the saddle. She sat there limply as Thuleos mounted up, reached out for her reins and guided her talbuk to follow his.

The pair set off to the north, headed toward Bloodmyst Isle, the long-abandoned hold of blood elves. As far as Thuleos knew, all the sin’dorei had left the northern islands of Kalimdor, but it was hard to be certain. He glanced over to Lena, who was swaying slightly in her saddle, with some worry. He hoped she could manage the trip.