Frantic Torment: Uncontroled Betrayl

Silence.

Finally there was silence. The hazy color blazed scratches that poured into the druid's sights had vanished, and the sounds stopped. There was no more screaching in her head and she could actually think rationally.

How long will this docile moment last? Xaneria touched her face softly, her hands still shaking, tears wetting the skin above her cheeks. What on Azeroth is the matter with me?! How could I react in such a manner? That was not me... none of this is me... it's all the dream.

The dream. Xaneria dropped her head in placid defeat. She had studied hard, spoken to those within the Emerald Glade, trained while Elizabel slept, and picked an area based on the necessity of the situation. A place that could channel powers, that would be a ways from civilizations incase something were to go wrong, if she were to open the gate and let horrors out, even Xaneria thought of stepping foot within that woman's home and begging for information.

That woman.

"Would she had done better? Sister, Matron... is this all your student has learned under your wing? Is this... as a druid of over 7000 years, all I can do? What... what am I doing? I was so certain that I could finally prove that those who have trained me, loved me, protected me didn't do it for nothing. I have something to offer, but I wasn't expecting the nightmare to..." She stopped, her hands folding over her lap, and brushing one another. Her hand began to examine with her right fingertips, a mark upon her naked hand.

Strange, I had on gloves before this... Xaneria began to run her hands over her body in a careful examination, awkwardly calmed from earlier in the silence. Nothing blocked her senses or sent her into a crazed panic. A gown... sleeveless, no gloves, just simple and ordinary. How often are my hands exposed to air that is not frigid and iced over when I am not with her? This mark...

"Nightbreeze. Lord Larimore." Xaneria's blank, blind eyes lowered, her knees rising to her face meeting in a quiet motion. "For a while, I forgot how often I relyed on your advice to guide me, now I find myself selfishly wishing you could once again speak to me. Speak to me and tell me what to do..." The druid laughed. "I suppose it would be pointless to ask, Eli and you never... knew much about things the druids did."

Xaneria took a deep breath, her body shaking from a cold feeling. There is no wind, for me to touch, I can not find it, right now I find nothing. If I moved, would I fall into the abyss? I do not know, because I see nothing, hear nothing, feel and smell nothing. My mind is such a wreck I can not even be certain of what I touch, what I feel with my own skin. Is it grass? In this dream world what is it I will find... How.. How did I get here?!

The druid stopped. Her thoughts drifting back to moments when the nightmare collided with her body, the darkness sucking the strength from her being as if it were feeding on her very life force. The strong, yet incorpreal lengths that took hold of her, until nothing but darkness took over.

"Sitting here, feeling sorry for myself isn't going to get me home. Though its almost impossible for me to move as I am now. Unable to use any of my senses, without being able to find the wind... I truly am trapped." She touched her cheeks, raising her fingertips over her eyes in quiet contemplation. Taking in a deep breath her mind jolted an old memory.

The night was slightly cold as a soft breeze picked up, moving closer over Xaneria's body. The lake just outside of Istalen was beautiful in the evening. Children from the temple home often light small candles and let them float the pound, speaking a wish to Elune for strength and purity in their actions, swiftness in returning loved ones and small wishes for the wisps that made their way about Darnassus, memoryless of their past lives.

Xaneria watched as the wisps danced between the candles upon the lake, the cool breeze guiding them about. Everything was so calm and relaxed, the druid felt she finally had a home. A smile crossed her lips, looking down at her hand and touching the tattoo like marking that displayed the 'crest' of the Nightbreeze clan. Words chimed in her ears once more, echoing in the back of her mind.

"Xaneria! You are now, without a doubt, Xaneria Nightbreeze. Forgetful of your past, you may be certain your future and your home is here. This is your family, sister. We welcome you with open arms!" Zalenah's face was gentle and warm.

"Still..." Xaneria sighed, her fingertips touching the water's surface. "Do I really belong...what will I offer these who were so kind to me?"

"You have already answered that question Xaneria, many times." Xaneria startled at the kind, deep voice behind her, looking up with flushed cheeks.

"Lord Larimore!" Quickly she stood, bowing to him but he just waved her off.

"Please, I keep telling you, you do not need the Lord part. I'm a fairly simple man, just a warrior in plate, nothing more."

Xaneria shook her head to argue again. Simple? Far from it! You are kind, powerful, gentle and a natural leader, no one hates you. You are loved... Loved. The druid blushed more and looked to Larimore as he sat before the lake motioning her to sit back down.

"Xaneria, you need not dwell on such thoughts. You were broguth into this family because we can see your worth. You have already saved my life a few times, healing wounds, and tending to so many others. No one here thinks ill of you. Have more confidence in who you are. Because who you are is all that we care about, nothing more." He paused and put a hand on her head gently. A smile crossed his lips as he turned to walk off. "Its cold, we should get in and rest. The meeting was long."

"I will, but, I wish to enjoy the view once more."

"Xaneria." Larimore stopped and pointed to the garden. "That, shows a lot more about who you really are, because it reflects the care you have given. Besides," the warrior stopped and chuckled, begining to walk away again, his voice amused. "You already made her smile. I think that counts for something as well..."

"Larimore." Xaneria bit her bottom lip and touched the marking on her hand once more. "She... I want to see her again. She's probably worried, this wasn't suppose to happen." The druid frowns. "Then again, she will probably be mad if I get out of this...heh."

Xaneria quieted her mind, relinquishing the images of Elizabel and Larimore from her head, clearing her mind of her fears for Ailac, and her curiosity of Neyeeva and Cenias. I have to get out of this, I want to know they are all safe. Taking in a deep breath, the druid began to concentrate, listening to the wind inside her body moving about, trying to cling to the winds of this dream world around her. A breeze picked up and tickled her nose, pushing back her hair gently. It grew, as did the smile on her face feeling accomplished, and starting to manipulate that which she had now gripped. Just a bit more, I finally got it. Just a bit more and I can sta-

Her thoughts were cut off abruptly. The wind picked up, throwing itself at her, as if a weighted gust from a storm, lifting the druid from her place and throwing her back into a nearby tree. The darkness infront of her began to break about with white noise, crackling and snapping, lights flickering fast and prismatically before her eyes, as if burned into her mind. Xaneria gripped her head, trying to breath and biting down on her lip, the screaching starting to pick up and tear again at the calm sanity she finally found.

"Ah! This again! What is..." The dream had come to life again and began to tear at the druid's mind, causing tears to come to her eyes from the sheer volume that beat into her. Sharp pains dropped the druid to her knees, eyes clenched shut, biting down on her lip, hands pressed firmly on her temples, knees quivering on the dirt.

Suddenly silence.

Xaneria paused, hesitant at the quiet, and waited. Swords clashing and peoples cries of battle began to fade into her ears, ever so slightly, taking up in volume. Ghouls scattering about and calling around her, death and fighting, screams and battle cries. Xaneria stood, opening her eyes instinctively, suddenly blow away by her sight. She could see. The "Gates of Wrath" at the foot of Icecrown in Dragonblight!

The wind picked up and pulled at her, chiling her body. Looking down, she adourned the attire of the Argent Dawn, her slaying leathers and her large staff upon her back, bitten by the frost. Xaneria searched the area with her eyes, scanning it almost taken in.

How... how can I be here?! This... this already happened... this already occurred. Larimore, this is...

Xaneria stopped, a ghoul lashing out at her. Instinctively the druid moved and brought her staff up, a light from the sky shooting down before her and searing at the undead creature. She moved back more, looking over her arm. The ghoul had landed a graze, and it had cut her. Real. These are real? There was no fighting this fact. She had been cut the creatures before her were real. But how? She had not even the faintest ideal as to how they could possibly be real. Xaneria looked around wildly, making her way into the fighting.

"This can't be real. It's not possible. I know this, yet its still dangerous. The dream has this kind of pow-" Xaneria stopped short, something pulling at her mind, beckoning her too look to her left. A familiar scent, a fearsome power. "E...li...." Xaneria's head turned towards the warrior looking her over.

Elizabel stood in the middle of a large group of ghouls and risen beings. Blood trickled from minor wounds on the warriors exposed skin. Her armor was fit, black and covering her entire form. Her shoulders were large and intimidating and her Lionheart Blade, nearly the same size as the timid druid dripped in blood. Fel green fire burned under Elizabel's feet, glowing through her armor pieces and exploded from her eyes.

Blood?!

Wait... her blades were dripping with fresh blood. What is the meaning of- Quickly Xaneria moved closer, watching as Elizabel's flames errupted below her. An evil intent emmited from her like a seaping wound as the creatures lashed at her being cut down smoothly. At first, the warrior tore through the rotted flesh of every creature that came in her direction, then began to start to pick away at those distant from her, the flames glowing brightly. Suddenly, to Xaneria's horror blood spilled through the air. The scream of the human fighter could be heard echoing in the druid's mind as she watched, wide-eyed, the female hit the floor. Elizabel struck again, taking another human's head. Her weapon moved effortlessly as always, and her darkened, fel green, burning eyes lit a fear in the air. Quickly the sword came rushing down to another innocent person. Xaneria reached her hand out, from meters of distance, her voice peaking.

"Elizabel!"

The clang of blades meeting echoed as the rest of the area began to fade from Xaneria's sights. Fighting back the strong, beserked sword of her lover was Larimore. His shield raised to his side, and his sword grinding Elizabel's. Her two hands pressed down harder on the strike, Larimore sliding his body under his blade, trying to put as much force in the deflection as possible.

"L...Larimore...." Xaneria's voice seemed as if breaking a darkened silence, her eyes swelling. Larimore looked back at her, his face strained and slightly aggitated.

"Get, out of here damn it! She's lost her mind!" Elizabel looked up, her eyes narrowing and pulling up on her blade causing Larimore to stumble back, she charged at Xaneria. Larimore moved swiftly, intercepting the attack with his shield and pushing Elizabel back. "Move now!" He snapped at the druid, causing her to quickly turn and move further away.

Elizabel regained her stance and placed her large sword on her back. Quickly she drew the blades from her side and a cold, evil grin crossed past her lips. The look sent chills up Xaneria's spine watching the corruption consume her sights. Was this really happening? Xaneria looked at her arm remembering the pain still, knowing it felt more real than it would seem. The two of them, best friends, companions, comrades, family... how could her best friend and her lover be at each other? Fighting, in such a bloody manner? It was not uncommon to see them cross blades as a greeting, but this. There was no cheer, no thrill in their eyes, only hatred and despair. This was real.

"Larimore...Elizabel..." Xaneria covered her mouth tears sitting around her eyes.

"Elizabel! Wake up! What has come over you? Are you-" Larimore dodged another attack, the power from both blades hitting his shield sent him flying, causing him to stand with only his weapon in hand. "Are you really... this weak you can't fight this thing."

Elizabel said nothing and cracked her neck, charging the male warrior once more, her blades moving fast. Larimore blocked all the moves he could, still being wounded as the thin metal cut his flesh. He was fighting back, but it all seemed one sided. For a moment, his eyes hesitated and looked back at Xaneria with a weak, pained expression, retaking his stance and making his own move. Larimore swung his blade and followed its motions, sliding under the female warriors counter attacks and coming out behind her. Elizabel looked at Xaneria with a darken grin, eyes narrowing, and turning a daker glowing green, Laimore's blade coming down at her back. The female warrior set her weapons in hand and the flames around her burst as she twirled her body quickly, blades digging into the flesh of Larimore, breaking past his armor and ripping his body. Once, twice, thrice, the attacks hit in waves until finally dropping the warrior to the ground.

Laying on the dirt floor of the dens, Xaneria's body shook, tears building in her eyes and escaping the corners of her dream devoured eye lids. The rolled down her darkened cheeks, her voice whispering weakly as she slept... "Lar....why, Eli..."

Larimore's body hit the dirt, blood ripping from the sky and raining down on Elizabel. His eyes were faded and open and his body didn't even flinch. There was no breath, no life left. Elizabel, had slain, the Dragonslayer. Xaneria's hand gripped tighter on her mouth as she shook her head in disbelief. This isn't real. Not this... This is far from real.

Elizabel looked back at Xaneria, licking the blood from her lips with a hateful grin. The druid became consumed with disgust, doubling over, getting sick from the fear of the sight that had just occurred before her. She shook, her hands shook, her knees quaked and her entire being felt weak. Closing her eyes tighter, shaking her head back and forth her words came out in wailing cries.

"No, this is not real. Elizabel didn't kill Larimore! This... this is not... NO!" The screams echoed as suddenly darkness swallowed everything around the druid, pulling it all back into her body and knocking her to the ground, passing out. Xaneria's eyes fluttered open, her vision fading once more to nothingness, as she felt the energy escape her body and slowly drift off into a sleep. Dream within the dream. Sleep within the sleep.

Once more, her body flenched, jolting as if a nightmare were beating on her in her sleep. The tears rolled off her face, her hand moving as if to reach into the air, suddenly begining to drop. "Some...one..."