I walked into my apartment and suddenly, without any warning to anyone including myself, burst out laughing. It was the giddy, joyful, narrowly-avoided-death sort of laugh, but I couldn't help it. This had perhaps been the first time I had laughed like this since my Undeath. But eventually it faded and I let out a small sigh and shook my head.
I was slowly coming to realize that however bad this curse was, my life wasn't over (or my unlife, if you want to get technical). I had friends, and, alright, a few enemies as well, but I could live with that, and... I had someone who cared and- good Goddess- I'm actually happy. The real kicker is that I'm happier then I could ever remember being when I was alive.
I sat down on the bed, trying to take in everything that had happened. My joy still has a bittersweet tinge to it, but I figure there's nothing I can do about it. Part of me still couldn't believe what I'd done only a few scant hours ago and part of me was dreading what would happen. Walking over to my desk, I sat down, needing to go over what happened.
It'd all been going well, us joking around and laughing as usual- we'd been sitting on a bench in Silvermoon, watching the people walk by as the moon shone down on us on a pleasantly warm evening with only the faintest n** of winter- but then the topic of Undeath had somehow come up, and then he'd told me that he'd planned to go and do it to himself.
I was, of course, horrified. The other races weren't as appalled by the Undead as the Night Elves were, but the prospect of making oneself a monster...
I shouldn't have been bothered by what he said- I shouldn't have cared at all- but I was and to a degree that surprised even myself. I had walked away in a huff, but he'd followed, trying to convince me it would be alright.
In the end I'd left him with some of my other friends who'd been around at the time, and I'd headed to Undercity. I had to get out of Silvermoon- away from him- and so I ran.
I ran as fast as I could, ran unhindered by lack of breath or tiredness, ran until I reached a lake and I collapsed in a sobbing heap fueled by the weak dread I felt due to a battle I had this morning (still not good with fights). I was surprised by this. I shouldn't have been this upset. But then one of my friends- Falanor- came and talked to me... And that's when I realized I just might love him.
Not Falanor, but this stupid, careless man who was going to throw his life away to Undeath.
The realization was not an entirely happy one.
But Falanor was right, I had to talk to him. I had to try to keep him from doing this... But I knew I couldn't. I considered myself pretty good at talking people out of stupid things, but he was an entirely different matter. I knew I wouldn't be able to change his mind.
I had walked away, claiming I needed to go find him, but all I really wanted to do was be alone. To try and understand. But then I'd seen him, moving to the island in the center of the lake, and I followed, using all my powers of stealth to avoid being seen. I watched as he climbed onto the shore, walking deeper into the island, never looking the slightest bit daunted. A lich was waiting for him- well, not really waiting, he'd seemed rather peeved at being bothered- but then they'd started talking...
I ran, disgusted and somehow finding the scene unbearable to watch.
I ran again. Ran as I always did. I ran until I reached the shore, the wind whipping at my cloak as I stood on the dark shore.
I stared out at that shore for a long while, at the vast expanse of the Northern Sea.
--
My footsteps crunched on the soil as I headed back to the Undercity, disheartened and inexplicably miserable. "Hey." He said, suddenly appearing behind me as he always did.
I jumped slightly and whirled around to face him, wiping my face to hide the fact that I'd been crying. But of course he noticed and his brows furrowed as he frowned. "Aw, hey, no... C'mon, why don't we go get some coffee or something? Talk? Think?"
I just nodded dumbly and we started walking. Then eventually my inner comedian had had enough of my moping, and I said, softly and in that sort of desperate way, "You're capable of thought...?" My voice was hoarse. Damnit, I was a mess.
"Yes, I do. Some people say I think too much. It's often confused with not thinking enough."
I found I didn't really have an answer to that.
We walked into the sewers for a reason I still can't figure out, talking a bit as we walked. He was scared. He was scared of the new plague Sylvanas and her apothecaries were planning to unleash on the world. I told him it probably wasn't going to happen, but I didn't really have the heart to argue. We sat down and I wrapped my arm around him and rested my head on his shoulder. He seemed surprised, but didn't comment on it.
He said the living were going to be much worse off then the undead and that he wanted to be in a position of power to help out his friends and family when the time came. I told him that I'd help, that he didn't have to do it alone.
And then, sitting the sewers of Undercity in front of a lake of slime, I told him I thought I loved him. I'd actually realized a while before I talked to Falanor, but it'd gotten to the point where I couldn't ignore it anymore... So I said it.
He paled a bit, then looked at me with wide eyes and said, “... You think what?”
We talked for a while after that. Well, mostly I talked on senselessly because I talk a lot when I'm nervous, but after a bit he seemed alright with the idea.
"So... Should we hug or something?" He said after a pause. "Uhm." I replied. "If you want to."
And so before I could do anything else, Andiro leaned over and hugged me tightly. I blinked in surprise, then hugged him back and closed my eyes, letting out a shaky sigh.
He told me some things after that, things that I feel I should keep to myself out of respect, but the fact is he managed to convince me to, well, at least not be too angry with him about it. I'm still uneasy about the whole thing, but like I told him- I was a night elf, I'm never going to be alright with the idea.
So after a bit more of conversation and a quick 'love ya' he wandered off to do Goddess knows what (I feel I'm better off not knowing).
I stood there for a while more, watching the bats carry people through the tunnels and enjoying the night wind the blew through it, before I realized we never actually got coffee.
Damn it!
--
The lean and well muscled form of the night elf moves through the decayed, festering landscape. She seems to be wounded, limping like a horse gone lame. She reaches down, her hand resting just above a infected wound in her leg and grunts in pain, her face shining with sweat as she bitterly recalls the last few days...
... The ghoul shrieks as the large night saber tears into it. Kinu shouts words of encouragement as she fires an arrow into it. The projectile lands with a wet thunk, and the ghoul falls to the ground with one last gurgle before it dies (again). Zorn returns to the side of the huntress, who looks down at the ghoul with a smug grin, nudging it with her boot to sure it's finally dead. “Stupid creature.” She remarks to her night saber.
She moves to continue on her way when suddenly six more ghouls burst into the clearing. Almost instantly one is felled by an arrow from the huntress, while her saber tears into several more. But there are too many and one slips under her guard. Its teeth bite past armor and into flesh and Kinu roars in pain-
-And she grunts in the present as she falls to her hands and knees, the rotting smell of the ground filling her nostrils, her expression fevered and distant as the raging infection takes a toll on her body. If only the World Tree had not fallen... If Nordrassil stood, this wouldn't be happening... Kinu looks down at the wound then quickly looks away, her face pale as she shudders.
“No...” She rasps, “No... By Elune, I won't fall in a place like this...” Somehow- perhaps by the strength of the Goddess- she manages to stand, gasping and trembling from even that simple action. She clutches her long, red spear, using it like a cane as she makes her way towards the high elven lodge in the distance...
Kinu walks through the landscape, Zorn walking at her side and nuzzling up against her. She's up and walking, only leaning slightly on her spear. The lodge is only a spec in the distance, even to her night elven eyes. “It shouldn't be long to the lodge, Zorn.” She says absently, running her hands through the night sabers dirty fur- they'd been in the plaguelands a while. “There'll be some high elves there that'll be able to treat this.” She glances down at the wound, which looks remarkably less severe then it will in a few days.
The minutes tick by, a few hours slowly dragging. Kinu's face is covered in sweat, but she has a stubborn smile on her face. Suddenly, Zorn steps in front of her and growls, the hairs on his hackles rising. “Zorn?” Kinu asks as she looks up. Her face pales even further, “... Holy mother of Cenarius...”
A huge carrion worm effectively blocks the road in all its heaving, pussing glory. Kinu takes a step back from the smell, a hand going over her nose as she coughs, falling to one knee. The giant worm seems to take notice of them at that, and it starts to lurch forward with surprising speed, Zorn leaping to meet it as Kinu draws an arrow and nocs it to her bow...
Kinu falls with a cry as the rain starts to pour, turning the rotting ground into mud, which splatters across her face and in her hair as she rests her forehead down on the ground, gasping and panting for breath. “I... I won't die like this.” But the resolve is weak in her voice as she looks behind her, the corpses of the giant carrion worm and Zorn splayed out behind her. She turns away with a sob, crawling forward, her belly dragging on the ground as she tries to reach the lodge in the distance.
She continues on a surprising distance like that, perhaps through sheer force of will. Eventually, though, Kinu mumbles something under her breath and collapses into the mud, her eyes half open as she watches the rain fall down. Detached thoughts of her friends ran through her head. Aristal, Leli, Arthaniel, Dar, Lhyko, Jeredai, Kalim, Sigmund, Sain and all the others... Tears run down her cheeks as she closes her eyes. I'm so sorry guys.
She lays there a while longer, drifting in and out of consciousness, half-delirious with fever. She could hear them- the scavengers, just waiting for her to die. The thought made her sick, but soon, all thoughts slowly disappeared from her mind, and her eyes slowly slip shut.
A few minutes later, the slow rise and fall of her breathing stopped, and death descended over the Plaguelands.
“I stirred with a mumble of protest as rough hands gently propped me up into a sitting position. I was vaguely aware of someone speaking, but everything seemed distant. I blinked several times, trying to get the world into focus “... Plaguelands don't seem like the place for a lass like you.”
Hmm. I considered that for a moment. An elven ranger- over 10,000 years old, no less- should be skilled enough to handle the Plaguelands... Wait... I recalled the fight with the ghouls- never mind.
“I'm fine.” I replied, becoming aware that he had asked me how I was.
“I was just resting... I'm heading to the high elven lodge, umm-” I looked around, then spotted it, “That way.” I pointed towards the structure, still some distance away. I hadn't even gotten close to it? Damn.
The man scoffed, but I kept my gaze on the lodge... I was tired. Moving my head just seemed like too much effort at the moment. “Ya can't go there, lass- they'd eat you!” I raised a brow, “What are you talking about? The High Elves are part of the All-” I stopped halfway through speaking. I had turned my gaze towards the man... To realize he was an undead. I tried to keep my expression neutral as I started to reach for my bow, then found it wasn't there. Had he taken them...? No... Wait...
I distantly recalled that it had been broken in my fight with the carrion worm... Why could I only remember that distantly? It had only been... A few hours ago at most. He didn't seem like he was going to hurt me, anyways- in fact, he seemed oddly familiar, although I couldn't place where.
“Exactly.” He- the Forsaken- was saying, “They'd slaughter an' undead like you.”
Wait.
Wait, wait, wait, wait wait.
Undead? I voiced the question aloud. “I'm not undead, you must be mistaken- I was just resting... I got a bite in my leg, bunch of ghouls...” I laughed nervously- surly he was mistaken. I couldn't be undead. No, no...
The man sighed- he seemed very patient with me, but I didn't want him to be patient. I wanted him laugh and say 'just kidding!' or something like that. Then he'd go about his merry way and I'd go on to the lodge and get my leg fixed up and head back to Winterspring with Aristal and tell her about this funny Forsaken who thought I was undead-
“Feel for a pulse.”
I blinked. I hadn't even been remotely paying attention. “What?”
“Put yer hand on yer neck and feel for a pulse.”
I found myself really not wanting to, and not just because I hate taking orders. He didn't say 'just kidding!' and laugh. He was.... Was that pity? It was hard to read his facial expression with so little face left to read. Regardless, it was making me nervous. It took me a while to actually work up the nerve to place my fingers against my neck.
...
I felt nothing.
I pressed my fingers harder into my neck. I've always been bad at finding pulses. “Come on...” I whispered. But I couldn't find what wasn't there. If I could have cried, right then and there, I would have, but I couldn't. The tears just couldn't come, which made it all the worse. “By Elune... What am I going to do?” My throat felt tight and burned as I forced the words out- even then they were barely above a whisper. “Bleedin' hell!” The Forsaken exclaimed, his eye sockets wide, “You're a NIGHT ELF?!” I couldn't help it- despite myself, I smiled, “Do I really look that bad?” “I just thought you was a messed up high elf or somethin'...” He paused for a moment, then said, “Why didn't you attack me, then? I am a Forsaken... Not insultin' yer intellience or nothin'.” He added that last bit quickly. “I remember you.” I said, for suddenly I did. “You were at the peacewalk, right?” He nodded, grinning at me sheepishly, “I was the one singin' the whole time, aye. Were you there? I didn't remember seeing any night elves, 'cept for that armored lass...” I would have fussed at him for his bad memory, but I wasn't exactly known for my brilliant one, either. I couldn't believe I actually remember him. “I was the one leading it.”
I watched as his eye sockets widened again. “You're Kinu!? The Peacewalker- the one who survived the Hellcaller's attacks- and you got finished off by a bunch of Ghouls?! What's the bleedin' work coming to!? ” He seemed truly saddened, which surprised me. If I was still capable of blushing, I would have.
He let out a long sigh, “Blimey, I'm sorry...”
We talked for a long while after that. About... Everything, it seems like. Certainly not enough for me to write down. He told me his name- Ishaneer- and how he became undead. As my only ally in this new state, we reasoned that I would have to join the Horde. He suggested that I change my name, but I refused, clinging to any semblance of my... Old life.
We talked as he escorted me to the town in the Ghostlands, as I did not know the lands north of the Plaguelands, and he told me about the other races of the Horde. He told me that I should stay away from Silvermoon and Undercity, and although the Hellcaller was rumored dead, things could still be dangerous for me. I retorted that it was unlikely anyone would recognize me, to which he reluctantly agreed. He offered me a place to stay- not an actual house or the like, but an organization, and I accepted. It's been several months since I... Died, and I've yet to move from the town. The other Forsaken provide well enough company, and the blood elves.... Well, I'm working on that. I still tense up every time I see one of them, as even in... Death, old habits die hard.
It's strange, but I'm trying to make the best of it. I'm heading to Silvermoon in a few days- I plan to find and speak to those who accompanied me on the Peacewalk- I'm trying to get any allies I can find before any of my enemies get wind that I've joined the Horde. (Or any of my old allies...) I'm currently looking for an elf named Antivius Erewan, though no one I've spoken to has ever head of him (not surprising, in this tiny town...) but... As I said, I'm just trying to make the best of this. I'm not going to list the things that are so wrong with this, as I'm running out of in- *the letters, which have been growing progressively fainter, finally disappear*”
Kinu scowls at the quill, grabbing the ink bottle and upending it on the page. She curses in Darnassian as a few blobs of ink fall onto the page, then looks around to make sure no one heard her. Sighing, she wipes the ink off with her fingers, leaving a smear on the bottom of the page. She sprinkled sand on the paper to dry the ink, then shook off the excess grains. Rumors had already made their way across the language barrier of her death and undeath. She just hoped nothing bad would come of it- the Hellcaller's assassin's wounds prevailed even in her undeath, and the ghoul bite in her leg and rendered running impossible. Hell, she still wasn't even strong enough to use a bow a properly. She just hoped none of her friends took it upon themselves to end her misery... She closed her eyes, rubbing the bridge of her nose. She couldn't even remember the faces of said friends- the memories of her past life were slowly fading, which distressed her more then her undeath did. Papers were scattered around the room- fragmented memories, conversations, sketches. It was making her crazy. Rising and wincing at the slight pain, she made her way out of the room, closing the door behind her.
Insanity would have to wait a little while longer.
Audric Lithdel Community Member 
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