Frantic Torment: Betrayl

Anything...anyone...selfishly, everything for only h-

Tears slid their way down Xaneria's face, to the corner of her lips. A thin, yet large hand brushed over her eyes, wiping the tears from her face.

"Xaneria. What troubles you in your slumber?"

Quickly, Xaneria's eyes jolted open at the words, focus coming into play. There before her was a tall, thin and toned warlock, with long blonde hair and dark blue eyes, deep black rimming them. She sneered and slapped away his hand abruptly.

"Why... I am fine!" Xaneria stood fast and moved from the chair.

Once again the dream torments me. This... is truly sickening. I know its not real, however the smells and sights, make it hard to argue... Xaneria raised a hand to her lips and sighed. And the fear of the pain, once I exit the nightmare... I am such a coward.

"Xaneria." Quickly, she turned, this druid looking more befitting in the warlock drabs, narrowed her green and blue eyes to the male warlock and sneered.

"Eldamari. It would be best you leave me be. I will be leaving the castle now."

"Without her?" Eldamari moved a hand to motion, in the back of the room was Zalenah.

Xaneria's eyes grew wide for a moment and then turned away, as if looking at an unbearable sight. Who was that?! That wasn't her matron, by far. This woman; this creature who betrayed everything and led her to this place. Her loyalty had led Xaneria down the wrong path and left her often questioning her own sanity and common sense. She peered from the corner at her eyes at this disguised druid.

Zalenah was normally a tall, sturdy and dark skinned Kal'dorei, with flowing midnight blue hair that shimmered in the moonlight as if the sky had fallen to her. Xaneria remembered eyes like stars, sparkling with passion and grace, gentle love and understanding, once a part of this woman, now hidden behind the mask. When Nightbreeze was strong, when Lord Larimore was alive, Zalenah was powerful and steady, always showing nothing but her power and prowess to do what was best for the people and the clan. Slowly, darkness began to seep into her ears like whisperes from a tainted butterfly and led the Matron astray. Yet all of this could have been forgiven until the final act.

Larimore, proud, true and kind, generous and loving without fault had passed at the wrath gates. Not in the manner the Nightmare forced upon the lone druid, but honorably. Honorable as he always was, so were the last moments of his sword and shield buying time for his loved ones to escape the plague. Yet, his soul could not leave the grieving matron and the whisp clung to her like a child. A true demonstration of his devotion to her, he followed her everywhere. The grieving matron was weak, and couldn't take it. The pain of loss, the fear of being alone and the memories brought about by the child who looked just like her father. Xaneria wept a tear in the back of her mind.

It was only after much time had passed, and Xaneria would never tell another soul this, not even Elizabel, that Zalenah asked Eldamari to entrap the wandering soul and kill the love child of her lord and matron. Disgusting and distasteful treachery that once known, shattered the path Xaneria followed. Yet here in this castle now, those moments had not occurred. This was a dream, a living memory of her past and Xaneria grew sick from just the sight. Behind her, the gaze of the tall, brave and devastated Tauren kept close watch on her. She could feel his eyes devouring her body and soul slowly as always in his presence and wiped the sweat from her brow, turning quickly, her words harsh and cold as the night she retrieved her Lord's soul.

"Keep the traitorous wench. I shall not return. One of her blood using magic to disguise herself as a mana-addicted mongrel... NOONE wishes to be this!" Fast as her feet could carry her, Xaneria ran from the castle and out the garden gates. Making her way into the ghost lands in haste, and running until her mind caught up with her body, she fled.

The Plaguelands.

Finally catching her breath, Xaneria stopped. She had started running and her feet didn't stop. An hour? Maybe more she ran and ran until she reached this point. Looking down, she grew angry with her appearance.

This filth, I ran from so many years ago, and now I return to it for what?! For her!? WHY!? Why was I so naieve to follow her, when I should have been with Elizabel...

Elizabel was healing, her memories lost and forced back. Xaneria's heart broke thinking back on it once more. After spending hours of the day trying to heal the wounds and infections sustained on the warrior, Xaneria had felt she almost reached her limit, yet Elizabel awoke when she was away and left without a word. The warrior was later found in Shattarath City... and Xaneria was show the reality.

"Who are you?" The warriors face was blank and cold, as it was the first time they met. Xaneria's heart sunk deep into her chest.

Changing her clothing and wiping the magic from her face, Xaneria pushed back her short, platinum hair and took in a deep breath, the tattoos returning to her skin, watching the sky. She never wanted to return, not even in her own dreams... to this place, that castle.

Cold.

Suddenly, a dark feeling overtook the area, the air growing cold and thick, like breathing ice. Darkness swirled around the area, coming together in a point and breaking open a door from which Chidorie stepped forth, her eyes darkened and filled with a sadistic pleasure. Reaching up to her back quietly, Chidorie pulled the sword from her back, slowly allowing the metal to grind against her armor as it moved forward. A twisted smirk crossed the Death Knight's lips, moving slightly from the gate. Deep blue eyes rest in the darkness, glowing brightly from a shadowed figure.

"You again..." Xaneria grimaced, the aggitation in her heart hitting her like a wave. "Following me? Even here..." She sighed, as if spitting to the side.

"Even here?" The Death Knight tilted her head and then laughed it off, her grin growing as the air became even colder, the mist coming not from Chidorie but rather the dark figure in the gate. "I have my very special reason for being here this time."

"I'm sure you do." Xaneria grimaced, looking behind Chidorie towards the eyes from the death gate. The wind lifted about the area and brought a strange smell to her senses. Her eyes slowly drifted close to the scent taking it in.

Earth and bone, bloodless flesh, and the warm, soft scent of brimstone, metal and oils. The fragrence is very gentle, and warm, like a smoking wood branch chasing the taste of metallic dust and smoldering smoke down my lungs. This familiar scent is dampened by the smell of rott and death. Even in this dream world my senses are heightened, everything seems so real that tears are coming to my eyes, and my body is trembling as the flesh is heated. Xaneria sighed, and bit her bottom lip, dropping the treacherous guise to the ground. Chidorie has always carried that warm, soft wood scent like her aunt, but this... does being near this child, even in my dreams really incite my thoughts of her? My direction and sanity really is at risk in this world if I don't control it...

"I'm getting sick of you bothering me Chidorie, even in this sleeping world, your hatred haunts me so deeply. Its your goal to sour my wounds, isn't it? Just leave."

"Oh?" Chidorie smiled, letting her blade slide to the ground. "A dream, how can you be sure this is a dream? While you were away... I have changed many things."

Xaneria's eyes looked up in curious shock. Many... things? Her eyes followed Chidorie's hands towards the gate as a much larger female stepped forth, her armor blackened with hatred, the dark, terrifying helm covering every part of her, deep blue, sickenly omnious eyes glowing from under the blood stained metal. A strange feeling pulsated into Xaneria's body, almost knocking her back but regaining her composure quickly she snapped up, the anger in her gaze causing her to loose sense of reality.

Succumb... Succumb to this dream!

"That smell, its from her...." Xaneria clenched a fist around her mace, taking in a deep breath. "This is a trick... nothing...is real." Trying to convince herself of such, Xaneria shook her head, the feeling of uneasy fear and thundering saddness kept pressing harder and harder in the back of her mind, drowning out her reason.

Stepping clearly from the gate and into the light, blood shimmering from the strange female's armor, she moved in front of Chidorie, drawing a sword nearly 6 feet in length from her back and quickly swung the flat of the blade at Xaneria. The druid pulled her mace out to catch the blow. The power and weight put into the swing forced Xaneria's tiny body back, fliping back and flying fast. She reached a hand out, a light eminating from her fingertips as vines rapidly reached from the earth and took hold, stopping the druids flight and setting her to the ground. Xaneria snapped her head around at Chidorie with a hateful glare.

"So you bring other's to kill me in your place? How cowardly Chidorie!" The druid doubled over for a second, a bruise forming on her abdomen where her mace was forced against the flesh. "Can't you just attack me yourself or give u-"

Before her very eyes, the larger Death Knight vanished. Chidorie cracked a sinister grin as her eyes began to glow brighter. She lifted a finger at Xaneria in a slow manner causing the druid to turn her head. Behind her, without any knowledge of movement, the larger Death Knight appeared, slamming a fist down into her right shoulder and crushing the weaker elf into the dirt. Bones cracked upon impact and Xaneria felt her breath leap from her chest in the single moment. Her arm went completely numb in shock, the pain lasting but a moment, as she forced herself to breathe and climb back to her knees. Looking upwards at the bold and hateful death knight.

Such a malignant feeling... I can feel her hatred for me seething off of her. But...who is she and why... She is more hateful and full of spite than Chidorie...

"Ah!" Xaneria coughed into her free moving hand, her breath starting to return. "That move... is a ... warden." She coughed once more, the pain starting to sear into her shoulder, already blackening and swollen from the attack. Looking up, Xaneria watched as the woman made her way closer, listening to Chidorie laugh near hysterically, trying to speak.

"Hah! Someone you know! Haven't you figured it out yet?"

Biting down on her lip, Xaneria scoffed in Chidorie's direction as bark crawled up her skin, seemingly from nowhere, hardening the flesh about the druid's small body and compressing on the wound. She flinched, lifting a finger to the air and dropping her entire hand in front of her, a white blast creeping from the sky in a single strike down upon the brutal female before her, allowing Xaneria a moment to move back, putting distance between them. The woman reached up, her helm sizzling from the weak blast and removed it, allowing the heavy metal hit the ground.

Xaneria's eyes began to widen, tears suddenly dropping from her face without thought, quickly and silently as she looked on at the woman. The seven foot tall, and well built death knight before her, adorning her crimson-stained, black metal, gothic armor, lifted her face. The skin was dark, void of running blood and her lips were cold, nearly a violet hue that could be confused with the midnight black of the night sky. The Death Knight raised a hand ever so slowly, infront of her face, a purple light starting to crawl from the tips of her fingers. Xaneria's eyes remained fixated on the deep blackened flesh, the once silver eyes and the shimmering white hair tied back upon the woman, blade like battle markings slicing down her eyes in their traditional grace.

"Eli...zabel...How-" The air around Xaneria's throat began to choke, growing thick. Xaneria raised a hand to her throat feeling a stiffling preassure around her wind pipes. Her eyes filled with tears and fear stare on at Elizabel as she steps closer, leveling her sword and thrusting it into the druid's other shoulder.

"...horde... traitor!" The words were forced through heavy air as Elizabel forced the blade in deeper, her anger writing from her body in waves that nearly blinded Xaneria's sense, mixed with pain and blood from her wounds.

Xaneria coughed heavily, blood coming from her lips and hitting the hateful death knight's face. Her words were weak and her tears blurred her vision, rasing a hand to grip Elizabel's.

"Eli... why... is this.." She took another short breath coughing harder still. Chidorie leaned down, her face closing in on Xaneria's from behind, a hand touching the druid's shoulder.

"I told her, about what you had been doing. Helping the horde, betraying all of those people she works so hard to protect. How you even fancied a Tauren... Perhaps he has a left his mark-"

"That's a lie!" Xaneria snapped, the pain making her motion weak, her hand unable to reach the bratty Death Knight's face. "You are taking this misunder-"

The blade suddenly sinks further into Xaneria's shoulder, as if Elizabel suddenly grew angry, though her eyes were mechanical and lifeless, as if she were void of reality. Xaneria screamed at the pain, the thick pools of warm blood, dark and heavy, beginging to gather in the corner of her mouth and along her collar bone, soaking her clothes. Elizabel lifeted a fist and thrust it deep into the druid's abdomen, knocking the wind, blood and salaiva from her mouth in a gasp for air. Time almost stopped in the pain, unable to breath and starting to panic, Xaneria gently clawed at the platted hand that gripped the blade in her chest.

"I... wont stand.... agai-" She coughed harder, the breath returning slowly. "Against... her. I... have not betrayed her!"

Chidorie leaned closer, wiping the blood sadistically from Xaneria's lips and ran her finger up the druid's face, grinning in sweet pleasure from the sight.

"Oh? But you already have. She watched you walk into his castle and from it. Leaving her dead in the temple and then going about your treacherous acts." The blade pushed farther still and began to turn. "Oh... seems she still is angry about it."

"My... reasons..." Xaneria cringed, her eyesight starting to fade under the blood and tears. Chidorie laughed.

"The little flower... is wilting."

The Death Knight raises her hand, finger pressing lightly on Xaneria's forhead center, a cold air flowing into the druid's body, heavily. Xaneria felt her lips freezing and her blood slowing, as Elizabel raised her own fingers to the small elf's head and followed the motions of her niece. In a quiet moment of self-wallowing defeat she dropped her head, the tears starting to freeze as they rushed from her eyes, icing over her sight. Her hand, not once removed from Elizabel's grip on the hilt of the sword, tugged lightly. Everything was growing cold, and the pain was too much for Xaneria to think past.

Why is this happening? Where is this place again? There was something I had to do... someone I want to see, when I wake... from this... nightmare.

A cold air pushed from Xaneria's body on the dirt floors of the dens as blood ran from her lips, her body coughing harshly and cringing. It shook once, twice even, as her color began to fade. Xaneria's lips grew darker in color, as if her body was freezing, icy to the touch, the thick blood trickling down to the ground, her breathes slowing.