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Duality Risen	By : RotSeele Category: +S through Z > World of Warcraft Views: 5041 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft. I do not make any money from this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Duality Risen
- 2-Two
- 3-Three
- 4-Four
- 5-Five
- 6-Six
- 7-Seven
- 8-Eight
- 9-Nine
- 10-Ten
- 11-Eleven
- 12-Twelve
- 13-Thirteen
- 14-Fourteen
- 15-Fifteen
- 16-Sixteen
- 17-Seventeen
- 18-Eighteen
- 19-Nineteen
- 20-Twenty
- 21-Twenty-one
- 22-Twenty-Two
- 23-Twenty-Three
- 24-Twenty-Four
- 25-Epilogue
- 19
- 20
- 21
Twenty

The day after the rains stopped, the group set out for Ashenvale. They walked, unable to afford mounts. For this, the group was subjected to Raichlos’ complaining which didn’t stop even when Serasin threatened to punch his jaw off. The dark forests of the night elves were a wonderful reprieve after the heat of the plains. Tyrrandal relaxed a little more now that he was in a territory considered kal’dorei, even if Warsong still plagued the trees.
Chairon was often in the lead, the spry sin’dorei hurrying along the path invisible to all but Ekatha. Sometimes he would run the path along the bushes, pausing here and there as he watched and waited.
Tyr knew their odd group had been seen. The Silverwings ruled this place, and Tyr very much doubted they’d be able to get Nigrade without any trouble. He drew up alongside the rogue as the party continued past, staring out in the same direction Chairon was.
“What do you see?” the hunter asked, unable to see more but bushes and trees.
Chairon’s shoulders gave a little jump. “Kal’dorei. They’ve been following us for a while. Unsure, maybe.” Chairon shrugged again and turned to catch up with the group. Tyr followed.
“Will they attack?” Chairon asked Tyr.
“Doubtful.” Tyr answered honestly. “We have a big group, even though it’s a mix. And we Alliance are outnumbered by two. But it’s not like we’re going against our will, or we’re in chains. They may just keep watching.”
Chairon gave an absent nod, his green eyes focused elsewhere. Tyr watched the smaller elf for a while. He hadn’t learned much about Chairon while they’d been cooped up in Ratchet’s inn, waiting out the rain. He knew no more than he did from Chairon’s own mouth and Mardruk’s. There was just something about the sin’dorei though, something that was beginning to attract Tyr to him. Maybe it was the danger.
Tyrrandal had been named for Lady Tyrande, the Queen of Darnassus. His parents had hoped such a name would make him a powerful priest. Except Tyr hadn’t gone toward priesthood. He’d become a hunter, much to his mother’s disappointment. His father had refused to speak with him for years. Tyr chose adventure as a permanent form of exile, and had met up with Cassie and Serasin on a dungeon run. He hadn’t been back to his parents’ home since.
He didn’t know how Chairon felt, growing up as an orphan under the tutelage of assassins. The sin’dorei gazed upon the world like it was a game, one he would fail and need to play again until he got it right.
“Chairon,” Mardruk called, “how much farther?”
“Not far.” Answered the little rogue. He pointed up the road. “We’ll turn off before we reach the road that leads to Azshara.”
Tyr studied the blonde elf for a long while. He could feel eyes on them all, watching, waiting. Chairon led them into the wilds just before the road he’d indicated and took the lead, stepping easily over grass and logs. No one spoke in a tone louder than a whisper. All could feel the growing danger, so acute were they to the sensation.
Chairon shifted and paused, his green eyes glancing here and there as if expecting a trap. Mardruk moved closer to the elf, his hand on his broadsword’s hilt. “What is it?” Mardruk asked.
Chairon shrugged. “There are a few kal’dorei hiding around here. They’ve been watching us since we crossed the border.”
“So what’s the problem?” Raichlos asked. “It seems easy enough to avoid them.”
“Of course it is.” Chairon answered with a clipped tone. “They won’t attack, not knowing why three of their faction are traveling with five Horde. Plus with all the shit Aljei’s done, there’s no doubt in my mind they think Horde were behind it. And they don’t know about Nigrade.”
Mardruk stared at Chairon for a while. “What do you mean, they don’t know?”
“He’s hiding. Why would you hide among your own people?” Chairon shrugged. “I’m sure he has protection, but I doubt he’d appreciate an army of night elves coming down on his doorstep.”
Tyr frowned. “There’s not even the slightest chance he’d talk to us if we did that.”
Chairon canted his head toward Tyr and set his hands on his hips. Serasin turned to face Tyrrandal. “Can you talk to them?” she asked.
Tyr shrugged. “I can give it a shot. The only problem is that their hate runs real deep.”
“They’ll just have to suck it up.” Raichlos snapped. Tyr winced at the almost vehement agreement.
“Alright, enough.” Tyr rubbed his chin, then looked toward Chairon. “Care to come with me?”
Chairon eyed him for a moment, then shrugged as though to say ‘why not?’. Tyr looked to Mardruk. “Just stay here. We’ll be back soon.”
Mardruk gave a slight nod. “Be careful.”
Tyr nodded and looked to Chairon, gesturing gently. Chairon gave him a lazy smile and followed the kal’dorei into the concealing trees surrounding the group. The pair didn’t have to wait long, several female forms melting out of the shadowed dark, arrows of the finest steel aimed at Chairon. The small sin’dorei didn’t move anything more than an elegant eyebrow. Tyr held out his hands, palms up, as a sign of peace. One kal’dorei female stepped forward, keeping a respectable distance from hunter, rogue, and pet. She kept her hand on her sword’s hilt, her golden eyes focused more on Chairon than Tyr.
“Why do you travel with our enemies?” the woman asked in Darnassian. Tyr flicked a glance to Chairon, whose face remained blank and impassive. Tyr wasn’t sure if Chairon understood or not.
But he replied in Darnassian, “We travel together to learn about each other. Hatreds don’t run so deep with the Horde.”
The woman’s lip curled. “Do you even realize what you’re saying?”
“Look, we don’t have a quarrel with you.” Tyr said quickly. “We went past Warsong and we haven’t even gotten close to your outpost or any holding of the Alliance. We want to pass in peace.”
The woman didn’t reply right away. “Do you think they trust you, hunter? Look at the one beside you. He’d sooner stab you in the ribs than speak your name as a friend. And the others – a troll, a Tauren, an orc, and a Forsaken. They’ll kill you as soon as you become useless!”
“Your hatred blinds you,” Chairon whispered, perfect Darnassian rolling off his tongue. “We came through in peace, in the open of all eyes, in the guise of friends. But you, all of you are blinded by hate that you can’t begin to comprehend that friends can form in the unlikeliest of places. Believe me, huntress, if I wanted him dead, you couldn’t stop me. But we have more pressing things to deal with than petty arguments.”
Tyr stared at Chairon in amazement. Just for the stricken look on the kal’dorei female’s faces, Tyr could’ve kissed Chairon. The sin’dorei continued, “Follow us if you dare, but realize we will defend each other from you. Alliance will fight Alliance, Horde will fight Horde. Leave now, and we won’t have to call the needless deaths an accident of tragic origin.”
Tyr swallowed and hoped no one noticed. Chairon was standing in a relaxed stance, his hands placed within easy reach of his knives if not his twin swords. He could kill everyone here before their bows released their deadly arrows. Thankfully Tyr wasn’t the one who recognized the danger. A younger night elf slipped up to her commander’s side and whispered in her ear. With a glare of golden eyes, the woman finally nodded.
“Very well. But Astranaar and Darnassus will hear of this.” She told Tyr, pointedly not looking at the sin’dorei.
As the Silverwings disappeared into their forest, Tyr turned to Chairon. “How do you know how to speak Darnassian?”
Chairon blinked. “I learned. Same way with Common, Orcish, and Gutterspeak. Murloc too. Why? Upset some blood elf knows your tongue?”
Tyr’s eyes narrowed briefly. Then his hand shot out and grabbed hold of Chairon’s blonde hair, tugging the smaller creature’s head back. Their eyes met, held, and then Tyr pressed his mouth to Chairon’s, forcing the smaller body against his own.
Their tongues met, a clash of wet muscle and teeth. Then the sin’dorei pushed himself away, panting. Tyr took a step forward, only to find a knife aimed at his heart. “I told you, I don’t do one night stands,” Chairon snarled, wiping his lips with the back of his fist.
Tyr advanced. “Who said anything about one night?”
Chairon’s green eyes grew large. He fled back to the group with Tyr only five paces behind him. When questioned about Chairon’s behaviour, Tyr only shrugged.
“The Silverwings will leave us alone,” Tyr added. “We can hurry up and stop Aljei now.”
Mardruk and Cassie gave Tyr measuring looks, but he didn’t notice. No, the kal’dorei hunter was too busy noticing the way Chairon kept sneaking glances at him, as though he was waiting for Tyr to jump him.
Tyr smiled. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad idea.
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Duality Risen