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A story written by Kaitlyn

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It was the same dream. Always the same. She had been plagued with it for years, relived it night after night. It was her curse; the past that she could never escape. Her shame, yet the source of her defiant need. She would never be held in bondage again.


The acrid taste of her own thirst ripped into her throat like a jagged edged blade. Her sister was screaming again. In the murk of her memories she could not hear the words, but remembered them well enough. “You will not be released until the last of it is gone from you. You were meant to be studying it in order to learn to combat it. You bring shame down upon our father!” She felt the blade enter her wrist, her sister twisting it, as if she sought to drain the shadow energies from her with her blood. Foolish. Kaitlyn screamed silently, staring up wide-eyed at the twisted face of her sister; evil masquerading as the Light’s will. “I reject you. I reject your will. I reject the Light utterly!” Her words were drowned by the sound of her own heartbeat. Katrina cuffed her, the mail of her armour drawing blood. Not enough to scar, only the spear tip would leave it’s mark through the years, but Kaitlyn could feel the darkness coming nonetheless. Her eyes closed against the pain…

time and circumstances shifted in the blinking of an eye…

The ground was strewn with rubble, which dug into her as she lay. She was afraid. She had glimpsed the cataclysm above her and understood it meant the end of the world. She dare not look again. The smell of the orcs was thick in her nostrils. She lay still, wondering which would be better; a quick death by blade, or surviving to witness the last breakdown of Draenor. Madness chattered at the edge of her mind. A boot connected with her side. She held in the grunt of pain. It seemed she wished to live…

…she wandered restlessly in a world void of reality. The sky above was torn, planets and stars weaved with nether energies. There were places, she had seen, where you could fall, and never stop. She was stunned to still live, shocked that there was still air to breathe. She felt free, yet there was something missing. She did not comprehend it until she happened upon the camp…

She had just wanted company. Even company of their type. She cursed her naivety. Now the man’ari beast commanded that she kneel, the last of her torments. She struggled to her knees, and as the creature beside her bowed his head, she risked a glance at it’s master. Sick hatred burned in her, the remnant of her racial teachings not quite letting go. But at the same time, desire; not for the eredar, never that, but for the power at it’s command. She could feel the void energies focusing around it, and as it paused in it’s inspection, turning to her, it‘s hatred matching her own as it‘s hand reached to push her face to the dirt, she vowed to herself that one day she would be the one who commanded others to kneel…

…she recognised the voices as ethereal. The inter-dimensional travellers were scavenging amongst the remains of the camp. She was too tired to feel threatened by them. Pushing herself up from the rags in which the demons had left her, she raised a hand. She heard the noise of one teleporting towards her. She stared up at the creature, watched as it called to it’s master. “There is one alive here. Draenei.” She felt herself lifted, witnessed the approach of the ethereal commander. At that moment, weak and broken as she was, she thought him the most beautiful creature she had ever seen…

She stood alone, her eyes fixed on the portal before her. The Nexus-Prince had said there was a world beyond it, unbroken. He had promised riches greater than any she could dream of, and in turn she had promised to return the greater part to him. Her soft robes flowed behind her as she approached it. She could see her own reflection in the dark swirl of it’s surface. A far cry from the creature she had been.

She stepped forward, flowing into her own reflection. At the last instant her mind conjured the image of an Eredar; not the beast who had held her captive, but a creature powerful, graceful, with her own face. She rode the nether to the sound of beating wings.


Her eyes opened. The room was lit by a comfortable, non-invasive moonlight. The scent of last nights wine mingled with musk and the lingering smell of long burnt out candles. She felt a greater sense of comfort than she had in many years. This new world was full of possibilities. The events of the past few weeks felt like a balm against her mind, which even the darkness of her repeating-dream could not fully take away. She stretched slowly, then settled back down. Her eyes closed, and she fell back into a dreamless sleep.

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