November 25, Light’s Hope Chapel, 6:30 am
I woke up before my new daddy because he was talking a lot last night about what happened to the dwarf commander Thane and Maria. Maria was nice to me like I was her own daughter. I started writing this because I saw my real mommy, Kel’Donas Dawnlight, always doing it. The Silver Hand soldiers are sad about Thane and Maria, and some of them blame me.
When I was littler, I went into the forest near Silvermoon and got caught by trolls. They had shiny jewels that tasted like drums. When I was near the jewels, I just wanted to dance. They kept me in a cage, but sometimes they let me out to dance by the fire, and that was fun. They gave me strange, smelly things like burnt animals and picked fruit, but I didn’t know what eating was back then. I didn’t like it, but I didn’t miss the Sunwell with the trolls. But then mommy came with other high elves, and they killed all the trolls. It was so loud. The trolls screamed, and I cried.
Mommy was really strong, but she worked all the time. I kept one of the troll jewels so I wouldn’t forget them, but I drank all the drumming out of it. It only recharges when I’m in the forest, not near the Sunwell. The Sunwell is a bit scary when you’re far away because it feels like something’s missing. It always sings like ladies singing and makes my chest stop hurting. Mommy’s magic made things hot or cold or shaky, but I don’t have magic. The Sunwell can be annoying if you’re near it too much, and sometimes I didn’t even notice the singing. Away from it, though, everything is scarier, and you have to find other energy, like mommy’s magic. Her magic didn’t taste like music. It tasted sharp and sometimes it hurt. The healing magic from priests tasted like boys humming and made me feel warm inside, but now it’s gone.
Yesterday, I touched something I shouldn’t have: the Ashbringer. I thought it was the Sunwell at first because it sounded the same, and the singing made me feel like I could breathe. But then there were undead everywhere, like the kind the Silver Hand always fights, but they weren’t attacking me. They were running towards the Ashbringer’s energy like they needed it, just like how we need the Sunwell.
When I got closer, it wasn’t the Sunwell. It was just a man with a sword, fighting the undead. The sword felt like the Sunwell when I got near it. But then, it got really bad. The man screamed, and it tasted like blood and pain. It hurt like drinking poison. I thought I was dying, but I didn’t. When I woke up, the ladies were singing again, but it was sad. The sword whispered its name—Ashbringer—and I could hear the man crying, “Betrayed by my order.” I felt so bad for him. The sword was asking me for help.
Then more voices started singing—men’s voices, humming about justice and vengeance. It was loud and angry, like when the trolls beat their drums. My troll jewel started reacting, drumming to the angry song, but this time I didn’t feel like dancing. I felt scared. The sword wanted me to kill. It wanted me to fight. I covered my ears, but I could still hear it. I wanted it to stop.
That’s when Thane, Maria, and my dad came. The sword killed Thane and Maria, and it was going to kill my dad too. I grabbed the sword, and it screamed so loud. It hurt so much—like fire and sharp knives inside me—but then it changed. I think it didn’t want to hurt me. It made my pain go away, just like the Sunwell, and my dad pulled me away. Now I’m here.
I just turned nine, but I can’t be a little girl wandering in the forest anymore. Mommy’s gone, and even though Father Lachance won’t say it, I know she’s not coming back. So now I have to do the things mommy used to do.
I can’t do magic, but Maria taught me how to use the Light. So I’m going to try.
November 26, High Elf Encampment, 8:00 pm
The Silver Hand people didn’t want to give us a horse, even though they came by with wagons full of horses to pick up new soldiers. They wanted to take us so we could start training to be Silver Hand soldiers, but Father-Lachance wanted to leave the big forest and find more of our people. I wanted to go with them, but the driver said they could only take me if I was useful. Father-Lachance got really mad, and his yelling tasted like burnt honey paper. “I’m her father! Her mother trusted me with her life!” he shouted.
The Silver Hand didn’t like him after that. They said if I could cast a healing spell on a hurt rat, they’d take me. I tried to do what Maria taught me. I moved my hands the way she did, and I breathed in magic energy like mommy used to. But when I cast the spell, the rat died. I can’t heal anymore now that my eyes are green. The driver said sorry, but I had to stay with Father-Lachance. He told us about a camp with High Elves nearby, but said they didn’t like humans and couldn’t take us all the way.
Father-Lachance cries a lot for Maria. He says she was supposed to be my new mommy and doesn’t know what to do with me now. I think I have to take care of him like a mommy, even if I’m just a kid. I wish I could still heal, but the Light won’t work for me now. The soldiers gave us food to eat. I never liked eating much, even when I first tried it. When I put food in my mouth, it makes all these colors dance in front of my eyes, and chewing makes my jaw hurt. Health potions are better; they’re just one color, and they don’t make me see worms. But real food is messy, and the colors are annoying. Still, it helps with the emptiness from being away from the Sunwell, so I have to get used to it. But today I didn’t feel hungry at all, and Father-Lachance said it’s because the sword gave us so much energy we don’t need to eat for a while.
The driver took us to the road that goes to the High Elf camp. The undead left us alone mostly, but I could taste some of their magic. It tasted like dirty, melting snow, and I think Father-Lachance was drinking it because he doesn’t like magic, but he can take it away from others. Mommy always said he was sad because he couldn’t use magic like other High Elves.
When we got to the camp, the High Elves there tasted like bitter, burnt rubber. They were yelling at us and pointing arrows, “Leave this place, warlock!”
I got scared and hid behind Father-Lachance.
“I’m not a warlock,” he said.
The elf with the bow said, “Your eyes say otherwise,” and looked at us all mean, his eyes still blue like water.
Father-Lachance put his hands up and said, “There’s a reason. I’m a magicless High Elf. I can’t make deals with demons even if I wanted to.”
I’ve heard Mommy say “magicless” before about the homeless High Elves in Silvermoon, but I didn’t know it could be a bad thing. Father-Lachance was famous once, an explorer. Why didn’t they know him?
The other High Elves looked at me funny and asked what Father-Lachance had done to me. They put us in chains, took away his weapons, and they took my book too. I cried and cried until they gave it back.
November 28, High Elf Encampment, 2:00 pm
Me and my dad have beds now, but there’s always someone watching us with swords and bows. Eating and drinking here is weird and makes my tummy feel strange. Maria told me what to do when that happens, but this time it was different. It wasn’t like being hungry for the Sunwell. It felt like I had to get something bad out. They took me to this shack with a chair that had a hole in it, and something came out of me. It was too dark to see what it was, but it was nasty, and I hated it.
Before, servants and teachers used to clean me and change my underwear when things like this happened. I think this happened to me before, but Maria only just taught me how to change my clothes by myself. That first night, though, it got all over me, and it was like brown paint. It was on my bed, on my legs, everywhere. The high elves got so mad at me. They took all my clothes away and wrapped me in a blanket. I spent the whole day just sitting there, covered in the blanket, feeling cold and ashamed.
They took me to this freezing cold water a mile away. I thought they were going to hurt me, but they just threw me in. The water got in my lungs, and I couldn’t breathe. I was so scared, worse than when I was away from the Sunwell the first time. I looked up at the sun and saw bubbles as I sank deeper. One of the elves jumped in and pulled me out. I coughed out the water, but I was so cold. They washed the brown paint stuff off me, but it still felt like they didn’t like me. I didn’t like them either. They didn’t feel kind like the humans or dwarves.
These elves killed everything that wasn’t like them. Undead, humans, gnomes, even other elves who didn’t belong. I wanted to help the people they hurt, but my magic wouldn’t work the way it used to. I remembered how the Silver Hand used to say kind words when someone died. They’d say, “Go with the Light, brother or sister.” They’d burn the bodies so their spirits could rest. So, I did that too. I found sticks and covered the bodies, and I used all the magic I had left to light them on fire.
As the bodies burned, I could hear the ladies singing again, but it was different. Not like the Sunwell, but still kinda pretty. I did it over and over. I burned the bodies and heard voices whisper “thank you” and “go with the Light.” It made me feel warm inside. But then, one voice said, “LEAVE HER ALONE!” I turned around and saw a high elf coming at me. She hit me with her weapon, but it didn’t hurt. I just stood there, confused, and then she tried to stab me.
But I wasn’t afraid this time. A bright, clear egg-shaped shield appeared around me, protecting me. The elf got burned and fell back. I heard a voice telling me to run, so I did. I ran with my blanket, looking for my dad, but I couldn’t find him. The elf chased me, shouting that she wouldn’t miss this time. She aimed her bow at me, and I screamed, “I don’t want to die!”
Just then, my dad came up behind her. He grabbed her by the hair and dug his fingers into her eyes. She screamed and tried to get away, but my dad slammed her head into the ground. “Stop moving, or I’ll crush your skull like a coconut,” he said.
Guards ran in and put him in chains. One of the elves took off their shirt and put it on me, and they carried me to a big building. It was warmer inside, with animal furs on the floor and fires burning. The elf who attacked me told their leader that I was a demon because of my green eyes. The leader was pale with white hair and red eyes, and he held my book. He asked if there was proof.
I stayed near my dad, hiding behind his leg as the pale elf yelled at the other soldiers. Everything felt too loud and too fast, like I was stuck in the middle of a scary dream where no one was listening to me. I didn’t understand what the grown-ups were fighting about—demons, warlocks, and magic deals. It all felt like a game that no one had taught me how to play.
The elf said I was feeding off the spirits of the dead and summoning demons. The leader just laughed and asked if there were any demons who could summon other demons. She looked confused and said something about warlocks. He told her that if I were a warlock, I’d be grown-up, and that demons weren’t desperate, but we were. Then he told the guards to kill her, not me.
They did, right in front of me. I tried to look away, but I couldn’t. The leader shouted that the encampment couldn’t fail, and he demanded that his secrets stay hidden. I was scared, but I closed my eyes and whispered the Silver Hand’s words for the elf who had just died. I didn’t want to see any more.
But I couldn’t really focus. My heart was beating so fast, and my hands were shaking. I did the only thing that felt right—I whispered the words from the Silver Hand like they always did when someone died, like a tiny bit of kindness I could give in a place that felt so mean.
“Perfectia? What are you saying?” Dad asked, holding me close, but I kept whispering.
“Let her finish!” Lirath said, his voice sharp, and then told his guards, “Take me outside.” They helped him walk out, and he was breathing hard, like it hurt to even talk.
I finished with, “Go with the Light, sister,” and suddenly, the elf’s whole body lit up with golden flames. It was so bright, like a star had fallen right in front of us. One of the guards came back and said, “The general wants to see you both outside.”
We went out, and Lirath was waiting, looking worn out and leaning on his cane. “So, when were you going to tell us that your daughter was a paladin?” he asked, his voice all rough and tired.
Dad stepped up, quick to answer, “She’s not! She’s never trained, she never took an oath, she doesn’t wear armor. Her mom was a mage, and I don’t have magic. She didn’t know about the Light until she got to the Chapel of Hope.”
Lirath shook his head really slow, like when grown-ups get tired of explaining the same thing over and over. “To be a paladin, you just need faith in the Light and a strong will to do what’s right.” He crouched down in front of me, his knees creaking. His eyes looked all serious and sad. “Perfectia,” he said, softer now, “you’ve got a strong heart. Can you promise me something? Will you keep my secret, as long as I’m alive?”
“I swear,” I said, my voice small but real. I meant it, too.
Lirath nodded like that made him feel a little better. “And one more thing. When I die, can you send me away to the Light, like you did for the other elf?”
I nodded again, trying to look as brave as I could. “I swear.” But I didn’t know when that would be, or how long it would take.
“Good,” he said, and his voice sounded tired again. “Thank you, Perfectia.” He turned to my dad and pointed his cane. “Lachance, if you tell anyone about this, I’ll kill you. And it won’t be quick.”
Lirath got up slowly and shuffled back to the big building with his cane tapping the ground. The elf lady who tried to hurt me was just a pile of ash now, and Lirath sat down at the table with all his food on it. He waved for us to join him, like it was normal, like nothing weird had just happened. “My full name is Lirath Windrunner.”
Dad’s eyes went wide, and he fell right out of his chair. “You’re supposed to be dead!”
I leaned forward and shook Lirath’s hand, trying to be polite like Mommy taught me. “My name’s Perfectia Dawnlight. Nice to meet you.”
Lirath chuckled, and it made me feel a little better. “That’s a nice change, Perfectia. Most people react like your dad did when they hear who I am. Kel’Donas’s daughter, huh?”
I nodded, feeling a little proud. “Yep.”
“I remember her. Very talented but kind of… posh. My father wanted us to marry when I was older, but she was too old for me. Never thought she’d have a child with a magic-less elf.”
I didn’t like that too much. It sounded like he was being mean to my dad. “Well, he’s a great father,” I said, crossing my arms.
Lirath looked at Dad, who was just eating like nothing was wrong. He shrugged and gave a small smile.
“I only found out he was my dad a few weeks ago,” I said, “but he saved me from the bad guys when Silvermoon was attacked.”
Lirath looked kind of sad and tired again. “So, he actually did it, huh?”
“You knew about the attack?” Dad asked, sounding surprised.
“Why do you think I’m like this now?” Lirath said, tapping his chest. He coughed a little, like he was having trouble breathing. “Kel’Thuzad brought me back from the dead to use me, like a pawn. I was stronger when he first did it, but I hated being under his control. So, I jumped off the highest cliff I could find, but then he raised me again, weaker this time.”
I looked at Lirath. He seemed so fragile and sad, not like the other elves. “Is that why you look so…?”
Lirath raised an eyebrow, like he was expecting something worse. “Feeble?”
I looked down, feeling a little bad for him. “I was going to say sick.” I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, even though he was a grown-up.
Lirath nodded, looking really tired, like he was remembering something that hurt. “When Kel’Thuzad controlled me, he didn’t just make me do things, he made me say things too, things I didn’t want to say. The second time he raised me, he left me near my home, free from his control. My dad found me in the forest, but Kel’Thuzad left a note saying that he could bring my mom back too if the Windrunners joined the Cult of the Damned. I managed to break free from his hold, and I begged my dad not to join.”
My dad frowned. “Why didn’t you tell anyone? Why did you hide? We needed that warning.”
Lirath’s shoulders drooped. “We found out Kel’Thuzad was already dead and the Cult of the Damned was falling apart. The first time I died, I was with my mom, but the second time…” He put his hand on his head, like he was getting a bad headache. “It was just dark. So empty. I couldn’t find anyone. It was like nothing mattered anymore. I asked my dad to end it for me, but he wouldn’t. He said, ‘What would your mom think if she knew I’d taken our only son’s life?’” Lirath looked around the room. “He built this place to keep me safe, and these soldiers protect me from undead, cult members, and anyone who might find out the truth. I’ll tell the truth when I’m ready, but it’ll be on my terms.”
Dad asked, “When will that be?”
Lirath’s face got angry, and he slammed his hand on the table. “People who swear to keep my secret don’t usually ask this many questions! You think this is a game? I don’t want to tell anyone if I don’t have to! If my sisters found out what happened to me, what do you think they’d do? All I ever wanted was to be a ranger like them. They need to believe I died bravely, not like this. If everyone knew I was just this… this monster, it would break my family.”
I couldn’t help but say, “But your dad didn’t think you were a monster, right?”
Lirath slammed the table again, and his eyes were shiny like he might cry. “I KNOW!” he shouted. “He tried to get me to bring them here, even after he died. Maybe even to find a cure. When the Sunwell was destroyed, we lost so many kids and old people in just a few hours. My dad wasn’t that old; did he make it through the attack?”
Dad looked down and shook his head. “No, he didn’t make it, but he wasn’t turned into one of those undead. I’m sure of that.”
Lirath put his head down, and I saw tears of blood drip from his eyes, but he tried to smile. “Then they’re together in the Light,” he whispered, wiping his face. “My sisters, did they fight bravely?”
“One of them fell on the battlefield,” Dad said quietly, still looking at the floor.
Lirath’s eyes got wide, and he started shaking. “AND?!” he shouted, almost sounding like he was going to cry. “TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED!”
“Arthas… he—” Dad started to say, but Lirath’s shouting made him stop, and the room felt even colder than before
Lirath banged his cane so hard on the table, it made a loud thump, and he yelled, “What does Arthas have to do with any of this?!” He looked so angry and lost, like he just couldn’t understand.
I got up and put my hand on his arm. “Stop it, Lirath! You’re not letting Dad talk if you keep smashing stuff! Just sit down and listen. Dad will tell you everything, but it’s going to hurt, okay? You’re not the only one who lost things. I lost my mommy, too, and I almost died when the Sunwell got destroyed.” I tried to keep my voice calm, even though my tummy felt twisty.
Lirath took a deep breath and sat down, rubbing his eyes. “I’m sorry, Perfectia. Lachance, please… tell me everything. I won’t yell again, I promise.”
So, Dad told him everything—about Arthas and Frostmourne, about Kel’Thuzad and Silvermoon, about Mommy, and even about Sylvanas Windrunner. He told him that Lirath’s other sisters weren’t there, so they might still be alive somewhere.
When Dad finished, Lirath just sat there, quiet and looking lost. We left him alone, and later I heard him crying inside his room, breaking things. It made my heart feel heavy, like it was sinking.
That night, we went to bed, and when I woke up, Lirath was there. He had my book in his hands. “I put a lock on your diary, Perfectia,” he said softly. “I want you to write about what happened and keep writing about all your days, okay? But I need your help to open it first. I need you to use a healing spell here.”
I hugged my hands close to my chest. “I don’t know how, Lirath… ever since I touched that sword, when I try, it just burns people. It’s not the same anymore.”
Lirath took my hands gently and placed them on the lock. “You can do it, Perfectia. Just don’t think about healing cuts or bringing people back. Think about how it feels when you lose someone you love. Think about that pain inside you.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and thought about Mommy and Maria. It hurt so much, like a big heavy stone in my heart. “It really hurts,” I whispered.
“Good. Now, imagine this lock is your heart. Feel the pain, and then let the magic out to make it go away.” I felt the light of the Sunwell warm my hands, like sweet bread fresh out of the oven, and the magic came out. The lock clicked open. It felt good, like the Sunwell was giving me a little hug.
But then Lirath dropped the book and yelped, “Ouch!”
I panicked and looked at his hand. “I’m so sorry! Did I hurt you?”
Lirath just smiled at me, even though his hand looked like it stung. “It’s okay, Perfectia. The Light and I… we don’t always get along, but it’s not your fault.”
I hugged him tight. “The Light is always with you, Lirath. It won’t forget you. You’re not a monster, no matter what you think. You have family who misses you and loves you.”
Lirath looked surprised, his pale face so sad. “How do you know that, Perfectia?”
I smiled up at him. “Because I would miss you if you were gone. I know I’m not really a high elf anymore, but I still want to fight for the Silver Hand when I’m strong enough.”
Lirath nodded, looking like he was thinking really hard. “That’s a brave thing to want, Perfectia. Very noble.”
“And I gotta take care of my dad,” I said, puffing out my chest a little bit.
Lirath laughed, like he thought that was funny, but I was serious. Dad needs me, even if he doesn’t say it.
So, that’s pretty much what’s going on right now. I’ve been writing all this in my book, and when I’m done, I’m going to bed. Tomorrow we’re heading south, and I’m not scared. Not really. I just hope things get better. And I’ll keep writing, even if it’s hard.
I promise, Mom. I won’t stop.
November 28
We’re still at the High Elf camp. Dad doesn’t really think he’s good at anything, but he always helps when I’m in trouble. Before we were gonna leave, the High Elves gave me a sword, but it was super heavy. Dad said it was too big for me and tried to give me one of his small daggers, but my trainer said the General wanted me to learn with the big sword.
I had to hold it with both hands, and it felt like I was trying to lift a tree. The trainer said, “Attack me.” I didn’t want to because the sword was so sharp and scary, but he kept telling me to, so I tried. Every time I swung, he blocked it easily, and if I got too wobbly, he would trip me, and I’d fall. It hurt a lot. Dad was watching, and I could see he was trying not to look worried, but he timed me like it was some kind of game.
When I made mistakes, the trainer made me do exercises. It was the worst. My elbows and chin got scraped up, and I tried to use the Light to fix them like Maria showed me, but before I could, the trainer kicked me in the side, knocking me down, and said, “No magic until you’re done.” My side hurt so bad, and I started crying. Dad looked mad, but the trainer said, “She needs to learn to fight without magic first.”
I was so angry I threw the stupid sword on the ground. “I don’t need a sword to fight!” I yelled and put my hand out, thinking I’d just use the Light. “Come at me!” I shouted, all mad and red-faced.
The trainer didn’t care. He hit me on the head with the blunt side of his sword. It wasn’t sharp, but it hurt so much I fell on the ground and just cried. My head was throbbing, and I tried to use my magic, but nothing happened. I just lay there, bleeding and feeling stupid.
“What did you do that for?!” Dad shouted, but he was kinda laughing, too.
“I thought she could do it. Lesson’s over. Heal yourself, Perfectia,” the trainer said, like it was nothing.
“I can’t! I’m bleeding!” I screamed. “Daddy, why did you let him hurt me?!”
Dad looked sorry, but he was still kinda chuckling. “You said you didn’t need a sword,” he said. “I didn’t know you were gonna get hurt.”
It didn’t feel funny to me at all.
I touched the sword, and it felt like something angry crawled right inside me. It hurt, like fire burning my arms and chest, just like when I touched the Ashbringer before. I didn’t mean to, but I stood up and cast a spell, and suddenly the sword trainer was on the ground, rolling around like I did before. I said something, but it wasn’t just my voice—I think something else was talking with me. “I was pure once,” it said, and it sounded sad and mad at the same time.
I picked up the sword and wanted to hurt him, but my dad grabbed my hand and made me drop it. “Perfectia, stop!” he shouted.
I didn’t know why I did it; I was just so angry. Green glowing marks were on my arms and chest, like the ones from the Ashbringer, and they burned like fire. “Daddy, it hurts!” I cried, tears falling down my face.
“Get her some water and bandages, please,” my dad said, his voice all worried. The sword trainer nodded and rushed off. I thought we were going to leave that morning, but I ended up in bed again. My dad put cold water on the burns to help, and after a while, the pain went away. But everything looked green, just green everywhere, so I kept my eyes shut because it was too bright. I heard my dad talking to Lirath while I was trying to rest.
“You have to get her out of here,” Lirath said, sounding tired and sad. “Kel’Thuzad is coming back with his army, and I think he’s got Alexandros Mograine, the Ashbringer wielder, with him. And Thane too.”
“What about Maria?” my dad asked.
“A woman, yes,” Lirath replied. “Does Blaumeux ring a bell?”
“That was her maiden name,” my dad said, sounding upset. “But why? What do they want?”
“I was one of Kel’Thuzad’s first projects,” Lirath explained. “He put part of his own soul into reviving me, so we’re connected. They might be coming here because of what Perfectia did when she touched the Ashbringer.”
Lirath sounded worried, and my heart started beating fast. “You need to get her out of here. I’ll send some rangers, but they can only take you so far.”
“But she’s blind,” my dad said. “She can’t travel.”
“You saved her from Arthas and the undead at Silvermoon. You can do it again,” Lirath told him. “She has synesthesia; she can taste strong magic and energy. That’ll help her sense the danger.”
“Synesthesia? How—” my dad started, but Lirath cut him off.
“I read her diary,” Lirath said. “She talks about tasting sounds and seeing colors when she eats. Sorry, Perfectia.”
“You gave me a lock, so it’s okay,” I said, but it still felt strange. Mommy always got mad when I tried to peek at her writing. My diary was full of my secrets, though.
“When did you last eat, Perfectia?” my dad asked gently.
It had been a really long time since I ate anything. I hadn’t eaten since we got to the encampment. I never feel hungry, not like how grown-ups say they do, and I don’t like eating. Food always makes weird colors dance in front of my eyes, and it’s gross when it makes you go. So when Daddy asked, I just shrugged.
“You have to eat, Perfectia,” Daddy said, sounding worried. “Is there any food here? Soup, maybe?”
I shook my head. “I can eat real food now. I just don’t know where to… you know… go after.” I didn’t want to say it out loud, but it’s embarrassing.
“We just bury it in the ground. Those human outhouses fill up with flies real fast,” a high elf said. His voice used to taste like something sharp, but now it was like melted butter. He pointed to a crate. “There’s apples over there.”
I could see the red in all the green. The elf threw one toward Daddy, but I reached out and caught it. My dad looked surprised. “Perfectia, I thought you were blind.”
I didn’t say anything. I just bit into the apple. With every bite, I saw a little bit of black and gray, and then some white and yellow light started to come back too. It felt good, but when I finished the apple, it was gone. “I think I’m still hungry,” I said.
“But you can see now?” Daddy asked.
“Not all the colors, but some of them,” I said.
“Well, there’s plenty of food in my room,” Lirath said. “Come have one last meal with me, and let me make up for being rude when we first met.”
So, we went with him, and he started telling us stories about his sisters and his family. Sylvanas was really strict and always worried about him, but she was also the only sister who would play hide-and-seek and tag with him. She never let him win though. His other sisters were nice but always wanted him to study and practice archery instead of having fun. I told him about my mommy and how I got lost in the forest with the trolls. Daddy talked about his sister, Telavani Lovewood, who was a priest of the moon goddess Elune, but she got too deep into the shadows and went kind of crazy. Daddy said she used to tell the future, but no one really believed her because she always said it in riddles. One time she said, “The life bones will shake, this chance may be your break,” and then their dad fell and broke his neck. Daddy didn’t live in Silvermoon much because of all the elf politics, and they wouldn’t let him use his family’s last name.
But he always liked his sister’s tea parties, where she’d dress up little animals in tiny clothes. It was weird, but kind of sweet. So when Daddy found out I could taste sounds and see colors like that, he wasn’t too surprised. He said I probably got it from her.
After we ate, I could see all the colors again. My eyes didn’t glow as much as before, though, so it was hard to find my way back to our room. My eyes usually light up the pages when I write, but now I have to use a torch to see what I’m doing.
November 30th
It was still dark, but two hours before the sun came up, I could see all the colors again, and my eyes had a nice green glow. Daddy’s eyes glowed too, like mine. I packed some clothes, my troll gem that one of the elves turned into a necklace, and a little shovel for, well, you know, going potty outside. That was hard the first time. Trust me, you don’t want to know. I also took a big grown-up sword instead of one of Daddy’s little daggers. This time, I wanted to fight like the others.
“We want to fight. I hope they come. We lost so many when the Sunwell was destroyed, and we need to fight something better than dumb undead,” one of the high elves said.
“Only two of you can go,” Lirath told them. “Any more, and you’ll get too much attention.”
I held onto Daddy’s hand, and he carried me on his back like always. He moved super quiet, like a sneaky cat, but the other two elves were louder. After walking for a long time, about two hours, I felt something strange in my mouth, like the taste of sour milk and peaches. Not yucky, but weird.
“Perfectia, do you feel something?” Daddy asked, noticing I was squirming on his back.
“I taste something funny, Father-Lachance,” I said.
“You don’t have to call me that, you know. Just say Dad, Daddy, or Father,” he told me.
“But you said your job was ‘librarian’ and that you were my ‘father’ or ‘dad.’ Is that your new job now?” I asked, trying to understand.
“It’s not a job exactly, it’s… well, it’s like this: Your mother was a mage, right?” he asked.
“Of course,” I nodded. “Everybody has a mommy. Mommies have babies whether they’re mages, hunters, or librarians.”
“Well, daddies have to be daddies too, once the babies come,” he explained.
“What do daddies do?” I asked.
“They protect you, make sure you’re near the Sunwell so you can grow up strong, and teach you what’s right and wrong,” he explained.
“But Mommy and her helpers always did that stuff. Why weren’t you around? Mommy always called you ‘Librarian Lachance’ or ‘Explorer Lachance.’”
Daddy looked sad for a second and then smiled. “You’re right. Being your father is my new job.”
“Does it pay good?” I asked, hoping it wasn’t one of those bad jobs.
Daddy laughed. “I don’t get paid with money. I work for you, and I’m happy doing it for free.”
I felt better and smiled. “Oh, good. I don’t have any money anyway.”
As we were talking, one of the elf rangers shot an arrow at an undead that was creeping up. The arrow hit its shoulder. “I thought you said the girl could sense them before they showed up,” the ranger said, annoyed. She pulled out her swords, and the other elf did too.
“I know what it looks like, but it’s not what it seems,” the undead said as he pulled the arrow out of his shoulder.
“It talks? I’ve been waiting for this!” the high elf said and started swinging his sword at the undead.
“Wait, maybe we should hear what he wants to say!” My dad tried to stop them, but the other elves just ignored him.
“Daddy, stop them! He doesn’t taste like the other ones! His energy… it sings,” I told him, pulling on his sleeve.
Dad scooped up some hard dirt and threw it at the boy ranger. I held on tight to Dad’s back, and the ranger staggered, all dizzy like when you spin too much. There were rocks in the dirt, and the girl ranger turned to look, but Dad was fast and poked the other side of his dagger into her eye. She screamed so loud. “Lachance, what are you doing?!” she yelled, holding her eye. The undead man put his sword down, just watching.
“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean for them to get hurt,” Dad said. “But thank you, Lachance, I could have handled it,” the undead said calmly.
The boy ranger fumbled with his bow and pointed an arrow at the undead. “You better explain yourself quick before I send you back to the grave, blood elf.” His voice was shaky.
The undead held his hands up, looking sad. “I fought Arthas on the day he attacked Lordaeron. After I was raised from the dead, I did terrible things… I killed my brothers in the Silver Hand and even told Arthas where to find more people. But when I saw my wife and daughter… I couldn’t do it. I stayed quiet. And then, at the Chapel of Light, there was an undead—one like me—who stopped the others from killing my wife. He fought off the mindless ones. I realized then, when it comes to the heart, Frostmourne doesn’t have control. I left Arthas’s army and went back to my family.”
The boy ranger lowered his bow a bit. “Okay… but why are you here?”
“I’m still pulled by my heart. Death knights are hunting you, and I can’t just watch. The roads are dangerous, but I can guide you through the forest. The lesser undead won’t stand a chance against me.” The ranger lowered his weapon.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“My name is Sir Zeliek. I may be undead, but I’m still a paladin of the Light.” He did a little bow, which I thought was kinda nice.
“Like me,” I said, feeling a bit braver.
He looked at me closely. “You’re young to be a paladin, but you have something about you… and you’re carrying a sword. What’s your name, little one?”
“I’m Perfectia. This is my dad, and those two…” I pointed, but the girl ranger cut me off.
“Doesn’t matter who we are, undead,” she snapped. “You and your kind caused all of this. We don’t owe you anything!”
Then, suddenly, my head hurt like something slammed into it, and my skin got all hot and itchy as those weird marks on my arms started to glow and burn. “Daddy?” I looked up at him, scared and showing him the marks.
Dad looked at me with wide eyes, like he’d seen a ghost. “They’re coming. We have to go fast.”
The boy high elf just grinned, holding his bow tight. “I’ve been waiting for this. Let them come! My arrows are ready—”
But Sir Zeliek put his hand out, stopping him. “No, they’re too strong, and they’re on horses. We can’t outrun them. Quick, hide in this tree! I’ll keep them busy.”
Dad grabbed me and ran to where Sir Zeliek was, and he lifted me up into the tree like I was a feather. He jumped up onto a high branch like it was nothing. The girl high elf tried to grab the lower branches, but they snapped under her weight. I peeked through the leaves and saw the boy elf squinting into the distance.
“They’re here,” he whispered, then ran off. I saw Sir Zeliek pull out his sword and—wham!—he hit the boy high elf right on the head. It made a loud clang, and the boy fell down like a bag of rocks. The girl elf screamed as something yanked her away, and I saw them—three figures in the fog. I knew them. Thane, and Maria with this huge helmet, and then… the other man. He was holding that terrible sword, Ashbringer. I could hear it singing that sad, sad song, and my skin started to burn and tingle. I tried not to make a sound, but the pain made tears fall down my cheeks.
“You don’t see many high elves in these parts,” the man with the sword said, his voice low and mean. I watched as the sword sucked the life from the girl elf, making her fall like she was empty.
Sir Zeliek ran up to them, acting like he belonged there. “Good morning, horsemen. What brings you all the way out here to the Plaguelands?”
The man with the Ashbringer tossed the girl elf’s body on the ground, but she was still breathing a little. “An undead with brains around here? I could ask you the same thing,” he sneered.
“I was with a scouting party sent to the high elf stronghold,” Sir Zeliek lied smoothly. “These two were chasing us for ages. I’m the only one left.”
“He’s lying! If you let me live, I’ll tell you everything—” the girl elf started to say, but Sir Zeliek pulled out his sword and sliced her head right off, quick as lightning.
“That’s for the elves you killed, Scourge,” he said coldly.
The man with the Ashbringer crossed his arms and smirked. “I wanted to hear her little story. What’s your name, undead?”
Sir Zeliek bowed politely, like he was still a knight. “Sir Zeliek.”
The man chuckled. “I like your style, Sir Zeliek. Not many can chop off a head in one swing. We’re short a fourth rider,” he said, glancing at the others.
“But Mograine, you said we needed the girl for that,” Maria whined from behind her helmet.
Mograine waved her off. “Blaumeux, you know the Lich King doesn’t like… messy ties. How many undead do you know that can make a clean cut like that with a dull sword?”
Sir Zeliek laughed, trying to look calm, but I could tell he was a little nervous. “I’m sure you can find someone else who’s better for your team. But what’s so special about this girl you’re looking for?”
Thane squinted at him. “That’s not your business. I know that armor. You’re from the Silver Hand.”
“So what?” Sir Zeliek said with a shrug.
Thane pointed at him. “So, if you were really on our side, you’d be wearing Argent Dawn armor. And if you were turned earlier, a Scourge armorer would’ve given you something nicer by now.”
Sir Zeliek just smiled. “This armor suits me fine. Even if I serve the Lich King, I can still use the Light when I need to.”
Thane rubbed his chin, thinking. “You know, that’s actually impressive. Mograine, he could be useful.”
Mograine shook his head. “No, we need to find the girl first. The Ashbringer won’t be whole until all its Light is gone.” He looked at Maria, who nodded.
“Sorry, Thane, but Maria’s right. The Ashbringer’s been acting weird ever since we got close,” Mograine said, gripping the sword’s handle tightly.
Sir Zeliek quickly jumped in. “I could help! I saw a small group of elves heading south last night. They’re probably halfway to Lordaeron by now.”
“Then show us,” Thane said, scooting up on his horse. “Come on, get on behind me. I’m the lightest, no matter what Lady Blaumeux says.” He chuckled.
Maria rolled her eyes. “Shut up, dwarf.”
Mograine paused, tilting his head. “Wait… do you hear that?”
“We need to go now! If we don’t, they’ll reach the liberated undead, and they won’t be happy to see us,” Sir Zeliek tried to rush them, but Mograine held up his hand.
“Hold on! Do you hear that? It’s like… drum music.” He looked straight at the tree where we were hiding.
My necklace! It was playing music. I ripped it off and threw it into another tree, hoping it would stick, but it fell to the ground instead.
Sir Zeliek didn’t wait. He shoved Thane off his horse and rode straight to us. “Take it and run! Hurry, before it’s too late!” he shouted.
Dad grabbed me and jumped onto the undead horse. We started riding fast, but Mograine and Maria chased after us. Maria’s horse was quicker and pulled up next to us, her hands glowing with dark magic. “We don’t want to hurt her. We just need her to give back what she took.”
Dad twisted around and kicked Maria right in the face. She screamed, and her horse slowed down, but Mograine was still catching up.
“Daddy, put me behind you!” I yelled. He moved, and I scooted back. I could see Mograine lifting the Ashbringer high in the air, its evil glow making my eyes hurt. I pulled out my sword and squeezed my eyes shut, whispering a little prayer, “Please, Light, protect us, like before. Protect us, please!”
Mograine yelled, “I’ll snuff you out, little candle!” I saw the Ashbringer’s green skull come down, and I squeezed my eyes shut, lifting my sword up to block it. There was a loud clang and then… singing, like soft, peaceful singing. I peeked my eyes open and, whoa, I was holding the real Ashbringer, not the yucky green one with the skull! It was huge, three times my size, but it felt so light in my hands.
“Daddy, look!” I squealed, showing him the big, shiny sword.
My dad’s eyes went wide. “Perfectia, where did you get that?!”
“The Light gave it to me!” I said, grinning.
We started to pull ahead of the horsemen, but then I accidentally touched our undead horse with the Ashbringer. It let out a loud, sad cry and stopped, sending me and Daddy flying off. But the Ashbringer caught us, setting us gently on our feet like we just hopped off the horse!
The runes on my arms and face were glowing, but they didn’t burn anymore. I held out the Ashbringer, and both horses skidded to a stop. Maria backed up, but Mograine got closer. “Give that back!” he growled. “You’re too young to even hold a sword, let alone that one!”
He charged, but my dad threw something shiny on the ground, and poof, he disappeared! Mograine swung at me, but I was little, so I ducked under his sword. I swung my Ashbringer and touched his horse, turning it into a puff of ash. Mograine fell flat on his hands and knees.
“The Light gave this to me, not you. It’ll always protect me,” I said, standing tall.
I heard a scream behind me. My dad had sneaked up on Maria and cut her throat. She slumped over her horse, which galloped away. But Mograine took his chance and swung at me. I blocked every hit, but I could feel the Light getting weaker with every clang.
“You’re just a little girl,” he snarled, swinging again and again. “Too young to wield the Light, too young to fight, too weak to do anything! I’ll snuff you out like a tiny flame!”
I saw Daddy struggling with a huge, sick-looking bear nearby. It was all green and gross, like old lettuce and spoiled milk. My Ashbringer faded away, and I was holding the heavy grown-up sword again.
Mograine grinned, lifting his sword high. “You’ll belong to the darkness, both of you.”
Just then, the big bear charged and chomped down on Mograine’s arm, ripping the Ashbringer right out of his hand. The bear clawed at his face and bit down on his head. Mograine tried to fight, but the bear was way too heavy. It dragged him into the forest by his hair, then let go, ripping his scalp clean off. Mograine let out a loud, awful scream, all bald and bloody.
The bear turned back toward us and shifted into a big cowman. “This isn’t right; we have to go. Get on!” he said, turning back into a bear.
My dad grabbed me, and we climbed onto his back. As we rode off, Mograine shouted, “Darkness will take you all!” I looked back, and Mograine’s Ashbringer had a big, broken chunk. He picked it up, stared at it, then threw it down and screamed in fury. I saw Thane carrying Sir Zeliek, and I hoped they wouldn’t hurt him too badly. I had to find a way to help him someday.
The road south was really hard. I was so sleepy by the time we got to Brill. If it wasn’t for Starmaster, I don’t think we’d have made it. Starmaster was the cowman—Tauren, Daddy said—they’re druids. He vouched for us when we met the undead people Sir Zeliek had talked about. I’d seen pictures of Tauren before, but never one up close. When we first saw him, Daddy thought he was just another sick bear, but I could taste the difference—his magic tasted like fresh milk, not like the yucky undead bears that always tasted like rotten eggs.
We found Sir Zeliek’s farm and told his wife, Laura, that her husband died a hero. But even though we were safe for now, I knew our journey was far from over.