Chapter 16: Felstone Field

“’Tis won’t be easy…”

Crouching by Eireannan’s side in the knee-high, sickly-pale grass, Lainné muttered something not really intelligible. Not easy was a complete understatement. How in the name of Light were they supposed to walk into the middle of so many Scourge, kill the cauldron overseer, sample the contents of it and go away unharmed?!

The sight of the ghouls shambling around, tattered flesh hanging loose from their limbs made her stomach try to turn inside out. It smelled of rot and sickness, worse than she had ever imagined possible. She fought back the sudden urge to throw up. Or curl into a tight ball and weep for that matter. Everything around was so…dead – including the eyes and the voice of the man she stood by.

“Alyssa McDonnell must’ve lost her wits to send you on such a task…”

The sudden outburst of anger managed to quell the nausea. She glared at him openly.
“I think I am perfectly able to…”

Eireannan cut her off, placing a not so gentle hand around her shoulder. The piercing green eyes held no contempt though, only stark determination and worry. His voice never rose over a whisper, yet felt as powerful as if he would have been yelling.

“I don’t care what you think…you are not strong enough…and you are not prepared for this fight.” It was a bit of exaggeration, obviously. Lainné’s strength in the Light surpassed that of any other member of the Dawn he knew– Alyssa McDonnell, high templar, included. But raw strength was never enough. “Anywhere else, to fail means to die. Here, to fail means to serve the Scourge for some long, long time.”

Lainné shivered, eyes widening slightly, but her face lost nothing of the resolute look. The churning fear in Eireannan’s stomach grew worse. It was hard enough to refrain from crushing her lips with his own - he longed for the sweetness he could remember … yet to think she may die – and he had a vivid enough imagination to picture her laying motionless on the ground, a heap of broken bones and torn flesh oozing blood ( no, don’t go there, don’t)…

He would not let it happen. Not if he had to tie her in a sack and ship her over to Ironforge on a gryphon’s back.

“You watch yourself”, he finished quietly. “Keep in mind the Scourge feels nothing – wishes nothing…except the utter destruction of the living...”

She nodded. At least she had the sense to admit truth when it hit her in the face. Releasing his grip on her shoulder, Eireannan shifted to a more comfortable position, and studied again the cauldron looming some fifty paces away.
“We should be going. It won’t get any easier if we wait some more.”

Easing her light mithril wrought sword in its scabbard, Lainné shoved back the sudden pang of fear as Eireannan stood.

“You go when I tell you to and you fall back when I say. Did I make myself clear?”
There was nothing soft in his voice, yet Lainné thought she could hear worry...She had barely the time to murmur a blessing upon him, for Eireannan was now striding towards the abandoned farm and she had to run to catch up. Mindless ghouls drew closer as they passed. They did not see but they could feel the spark of life in them all too well.

She had imagined they would cut their way through, one at a time, yet Eireannan walked straightly towards the cauldron – as if the Scourge around were of no concern. She followed closely, her heart threatening to shatter under the tension.
Then, in the space of a mere second the hell went loose: ghouls launched towards them from all sides and hideous growls filled the air. Eireannan’s sword flashed in his hand, stabbing and slicing through the undead. Blue-white trailes of magic slashed around them and Lainné winced, as she drew her own sword squarely through a ghoul. It twitched and fell. Another one replaced it.

Thud.

A rattling noise to her left made Lainné spun round, raising her short sword in time to catch the heavy axe aimed at her head.

The force of the blow nearly ripped her arm from the shoulder. She jumped sideways to avoid the next, as the skeleton’s axe described another half of a circle and buried itself in the ground, on the exact spot where she had stood. A blast of holy Light hit the undead in the chest, then another. The Scourge minion charged after her moving raggedly – then suddenly collapsed.

“Here, take this!”

She whirled around barely managing to catch the chain of dangling keys in her outstretched hand. Numbing pain made her right arm almost useless, but she gripped the keys tightly and started at a dead run towards the cauldron.

Behind her back a cacophony of sounds ensued – growls and squeaks mixed with the sharp, wheezing sound of shadowbolts. Lainné wasted no time on it. Eireannan could handle the situation – better than her at any rate. Her fingers trembled as she fumbled with the lock and opened the heavy lid of massive bronze. She extracted the vials from a side pocket in her bag and started to fill them carefully. The greenish liquid inside the cauldron gave off a horrid stench of sickness. Even wearing gloves Lainné was sure it would burn right through her skin given a chance. Her stomach knotted painfully, wanting to empty itself - and the throbbing arm made her movements slow and clumsy… Sealing the last vial she placed it near the rest, wrapped some thick wool cloth around them for protection, then dropped the cauldron lid.

Panting and stumbling, she made her way across the field, towards Eireannan. A sizeable pile of ghoul remains surrounded him from all parts and he stood in the middle, leaning almost casually on his long two handed sword. His skill with the blade was surprising – the little she had seen of the fight was enough to tell. He moved smoothly, with an odd yet deadly grace, dancing among the axes and pikes and stout curved swords wielded by the undead, as if he wore plate instead of a simple dark tunic. In between, shadowbolts and curses downed whatever his blade did not reach.

His eyes followed her as Lainné closed the distance between them, trying to hide the limp arm dangling now by her side. She would see to it as soon as they were safe. Nothing to worry about. But from the tight line of Eireannan’s lips she knew he would have worried a lot over it.

Lainné nearly let out a cry when the purple glow of summoning surrounded him and the felsteed was pulled from the nether by the force of his will, with a shrilling sound. He would not bind demons to do his bidding, as most warlocks did and he would normally prefer to ride a horse in the flesh – but some things were faster than others and with Scourge at their heels Eireannan didn’t afford to be picky.

He gripped Lainné and yanked her up in the saddle as another explosion of magic sent a spray of pebbles and soil over their heads. Gasping, she murmured something under her breath and a shield of light sprang all around them.The demonic horse didn’t need to be spurred – it lounged over the fence and into the woods and all Lainné could do was to throw her arms around Eireannan’s neck and hang on for dear life.

It was not until they had nearly reached Chillwind Camp that Eireannan slowed down. He dismissed the felsteed and they walked the last three hundred yards or so – a silent trekk through the blighted forest.

“Lainné…”

He touched her arm and she grimaced when pain shot up her shoulder. Eireannan’s eyes narrowed as he cautiously studied her from head to feet, searching for any obvious sign of wounds.

“You’re hurt”, he finally said. There was a tightness to his voice. Lainné shook her head in dismissal.

“It’s nothing. I’ll mend it as soon as we are in the camp.”

“I should’ve not let it happen…”

He had tried to attract all danger to himself, Lainné thought. Anger rose again in her chest – anger and an odd feeling at the idea he cared so much for her. And that was a part of the reason for enrolling to help the Dawn in the first place, as much as she tried to deny it.

“I am not a helpless child.”

Strange enough, Eireannan lifted a hand and brushed against her check – a delicate touch, one as a man could give to the woman he loved. Lainné breathed in his scent, her face coloring slightly.

"You should keep away from me", he whispered. "I have a tendency to hurt those that stay too close..."

She felt like fainting. Madness. All of it - madness.

"I've told you once...I am not afraid..."

"You'd better be." He stroked gently a wisp of auburn hair, then caressed again the side of her face, reveling in the warmth of that sensation...the beauty of those dark eyes filled with awe...

"Go back to Stormwind."

"I am here to remain..." Lainne lifted a hand to place it over his and held it there, as their eyes met. There she was, in the midst of a dying forest, holding a bag filled with plague samples, playing mind games with a man she would have considered an enemy not very long ago. Thoughts flickered on the edges of her consciousness, urging her to see the reason in his words and run...Then all was suddenly gone, as Eireannan dipped his head and hungrily captured her lips. It was a rough, demanding kiss that knocked the breath out of Lainne's lungs. Pieces of a puzzle suddenly clicked into place inside her soul. She had not felt whole since that night in Arathi - and if she had tried to forget it, she had never regretted...This was home. This man...was home...