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Originally written August 18, 2011.

OOC: This is part of the Letter to the Lightbringer chain of events, immediately following a meeting of the Templars of the Rose and Tears of Draenor in Hearthglen.

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The air in Silverpine was familiar to Arialynn, a scent that as it hit the nostrils, it immediately drew upon select memories, decades old. But the distant memories of childhood and more recent recall of the Third War were swept from her mind, as one would wipe away a layer of dust: the dust took flight and hovered close by, but would eventually return again.

 

Beside her flew Kanta Wildsabre on her left, Koryander Emberstone on her right. Koryander occasionally broke the silence with a nervous quip, as was her wont when she was uncomfortable. Kanta offered the occasional reply but remained mostly silent, as was his wont when contemplative. Arialynn added little to the small conversation, except a new order or affirmation of a previous one given, as was her wont when she was focused.

 

"Three dozen," Koryander began. "We can handle three dozen. For a while, I thought it would be a few hundred."

 

"The Templars can," Arialynn replied, her eyes forward. "The core difficulty is no less, however."

 

Kanta eyed her in reply, arching a long eyebrow.

 

"How so?" Koryander asked.

 

"We are unused to a war with refugees, the wars in the Outland and Northrend have spoiled us. These are men, women, children who have seen war up close, and were ousted from their home. Now, they see what they perceive as an enemy once again on their doorstep. When the Templars arrive, they will cheer and wait for us to kill," Arialynn paused between her words. "Instead, we will tell them it is time to leave."

 

Pursing her lips, Koryander proceeded her reply with a sigh, and running a hand through her hair. "And tell them that they have to move, or they'll probably die."

 

"Yes. The only men and women who should remain behind should be those trained as soldiers. This is not a livable land, it is a battlefield. It should be fought for and won by soldiers, not by the desperate with pitchforks."

 

"We should probably just go with a "We don't want you around when the real fighting starts, time to leave,'" Koryander said matter-of-factly.

 

"Aye, that may be simpler."

 

"And Stormwind?" Kanta growled as his eyes fastened on the distant glows of campfires ahead.

 

Koryander fell victim to her own unsuppressed roll of her eyes, and a swift glance from Arialynn.

 

"Not now," Arialynn shook her head, her gaze on Koryander, but words to Kanta. "In the coming days, yes."

 

The circle of campfires drew closer.

 

"Prepare to stay the night," Arialynn spoke as they drew closer to the encampment. "Not as welcome guests, but persistent ones. Neither us or they should linger here long."

 

With a tug of her gryphon's reins, the lady knight urged her armored beast to the orange flicker of campfires below. The two hippogriffs of her companions followed.

Author Ari
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