The followup to Wounds and Healing, found here. Enjoy.
A cold wind carried Siegadormi over the Scourge-infested lands of Icecrown south of the tournament grounds. Lelissa surveyed the area below, watching as the dead and the living waged constant battle for victory in this frozen wasteland. Part of her felt guilt that she wasnâ€™t there, fighting beside the Alliance to free Azeroth from the tyranny of the Scourge, but the greater part of her knew that her destiny, for now, was leading her elsewhere. Shaking her head to clear stray hairs from her face, she turned her gaze toward Dalaran. There, she would resupply and prepare for her journey back to Shadowmoon Valley and to the place where she grew up: the Temple of Karabor, now known as the Black Temple.
Her view was obscured slightly as Siegadormi angled away from the city for a few moments, turning toward the massive floating cityâ€™s landing space. Lelissa curled her lip distastefully at the required delay â€“ the Violet Eye greatly disliked having large, winged mounts in the city streets â€“ but counted it far less important than her other obstacles. At the very least, Siegadormi would be able to speak with others of her kind at the landing zone. Then she would be free to do what she wished.
â€śSiegadormi, I wanted to thank you,â€ť Lelissa called out over the rushing wind. â€śYou have been a wonderful friend and ally over these months.â€ť
â€śIt is the least I could do, Lelissa, for one who has served the cause of the Bronze Dragonflight. But what brought on this sudden gratitude?â€ť
The bronze drake glided toward Krasusâ€™ Landing, passing over the stone wall at the edge of the platform. Leaning her entire body back, Siegadormi angled her wings and flapped hard twice, slowing enough to land in the center of the platform.
Lelissa dismounted with a sigh, patting the drakeâ€™s front flank as she walked to the archway between the landing pad and the city. â€śItâ€™s time for me to face my sister, and there is a chance that I will not return. Here we must part ways.â€ť
Lelissa began to tuck the signal whistle into the saddle pouch, but Siegadormi stopped the Draenei with a shake of her scaled head. â€śKeep it. Another can be made, and none but you would be able to signal it properly to call me. You may have need of me another time.â€ť Lelissa nodded, returning the whistle to her pack.
â€śI have greatly enjoyed our journeys, Siega. May the light always protect you.â€ť
â€śMay it protect you as well, Lelissa. I will pray that your sister can still be returned to you.â€ť
Lelissa nodded her thanks, and turned away toward the archway, disappearing behind the stone as she took the stairs down. Siegadormi watched her leave, then with a great beat of her wings, took to the skies once more and angled southward to Wyrmrest Temple.
Kelarr still slept. The Kaldorei dozed fitfully in the chair across from Valyra, using his forearms for a pillow. After days of research, Valyra had finally made a breakthrough, and the two had been working through the night and on into early morning working on the ritual and its components. Unlike Kelarr, however, Valyra had continued working past sunrise to finalize the details of the complex ritual. Finally, with her work complete, she could rest. Valyra leaned back in her chair with a huff, twisting her mouth to blow a lock of hair out of her eyes.
The sudden exhalation woke Kelarr from his sleep. Opening his eyes slowly against the light coming in through the window, he stretched and straightened in his chair, finally resting his gaze on the exhausted warlock across from him. Valyra was rubbing her eyes, visibly drained, and seemed on the verge of collapse.
â€śGood morning. You look like hell,â€ť Kelarr quipped, a rueful smile on his face.
Valyra frowned in his direction, obviously irritated by the remark. Catching herself, she sighed and nodded. â€śI look like I feel, then.â€ť
â€śThen you need sleep.â€ť
â€śI canâ€™t, I have to find the proper reagents for the ritual, and hire another warlock to assist in the process. Itâ€™s a two-person show.â€ť
â€śMake a list. Iâ€™ll take care of it. But you need to take care of yourself. The last thing we need to happen is for you to fall apart in the middle of casting this thing. It could mean the difference between life and death.â€ť
Valyra smiled then, nodding her agreement as she found a blank scrap of paper and her quill. â€śVery well. I will defer to your wisdom in this, old friend. Iâ€™ll make a list and send Fierevere with you.â€ť
â€śNo, keep her wherever you need to keep her. Iâ€™ll take Myrlia with me. You know I donâ€™t do well with demons hanging about.â€ť
â€śI had forgotten. Hereâ€™s the list.â€ť Valyra handed over the paper, then headed to her bedroom for some much needed rest.