"Come on," Relara whispered, tugging on the satyr's arm as she pulled him away from the main celebration. "Let's find somewhere more... private."
The satyr stumbled after her, already swaying from whatever he'd been drinking. His purple skin was flushed darker, and he kept hiccupping between comments about what he wanted to do to her.
Relara forced herself to smile and nod.
Just get him drunk enough to pass out. That's all she had to do.
"Wait, wait," the satyr slurred, trying to grab at her as they walked. "What's the rush? The night is young!"
"Exactly," Relara said, pressing a clay jug of fermented moonberry wine into his hands. "Which is why we should celebrate properly. Drink up!"
The satyr grinned and took a long pull from the jug. Moonberry wine was potent stuff even for night elves, and satyrs weren't known for their restraint when it came to alcohol. She'd watched enough of them drink themselves senseless over the past two weeks to know exactly how much it would take.
"You're different tonight," the satyr said, swaying as he walked. "Usually you spit and hiss like an angry cat."
"Maybe I'm finally learning to appreciate the finer things," Relara lied smoothly, guiding him toward some corrupted trees at the edge of the plaza.
The blue wisps waved at her from between the branches.
Only she could see them, thankfully.
The satyr took another drink. "That's what I like to hear! You elves are so much more fun when you stop being stubborn."
Relara bit back the urge to tell him exactly what she thought about that. Instead, she laughed and encouraged him to drink more. The moonberry wine was doing its work. His steps were getting more uneven, and his words were starting to slur together.
By the time they reached the trees, he was barely standing upright.
"Here looks good," Relara said, helping him sit down against a trunk. "Nice and cozy."
The satyr pulled her down beside him. She rolled her eyes, keeping her expression neutral while she waited for the alcohol to finish its job. She kept refilling his jug from a second container she'd swiped from the celebration.
"You know what?" the satyr mumbled, his head lolling back against the tree.
"You're... you're really pretty. Most of you are too... too skinny. But you've got curves in all the right places..."
His words trailed off into incoherent mumbling. It didn't take much longer for him to start snoring loudly.
Finally.
Relara carefully removed herself from his grip and stood up.
The blue wisps were drifting away from the trees and deeper into Night Run. Relara followed them, staying in the shadows and moving as quietly as her hunting experience had taught her. The main celebration was still going strong behind her, which meant most of the guards would be distracted.
She'd expected the wisps to lead her toward some hidden exit or weak point in the defenses. Instead, they were taking her toward the center of Night Run, past the red marble pillars and into areas she'd never seen before.
What could possibly be back here that would help her escape?
The wisps led her down a narrow path between two corrupted buildings. The structures looked like they'd once been night elven in design, but fel energy had corrupted them into something alien. Green light seeped from cracks in the walls, and the wood had taken on an oily, unnatural sheen.
Relara pressed herself against one of the walls as a pair of felhounds padded past. The demonic creatures sniffed the air but didn't seem to notice her. Maybe the alcohol and the smell of Satyrs on her body were masking her scent, or maybe Elune was watching over her.
Either way, she wasn't going to question it.
The wisps continued deeper into the settlement, past more buildings and around a corner that opened into a small courtyard. At the center of the space was a ritual circle. Shadowy magic swirled around it, and Relara could hear a low humming sound coming from a red gem floating in the middle of the circle itself.
Standing beside the ritual circle was a single satyr.
He was larger than most she'd seen, with white skin and dark purple fur.
Unlike the satyrs at the celebration, this one looked completely sober.
He also looked directly at her the moment she stepped into the courtyard.
"Well, well," the satyr said, raising an eyebrow. "What do we have here? A little night elf, wandering around where she shouldn't be."
Relara's heart hammered against her ribs. The wisps had led her straight to another satyr...
Her eyes widened when the wisps began pointing their little arms straight at the white-skinned Satyr and urging her to do something.
Were they saying that...?
The satyr stepped closer. "You should be at the celebration with your sisters. Chief Lorax won't be pleased if he finds out you've wandered off."
Relara took a deep breath. This was either going to save her life or put under strict supervision, but she was out of other options.
She stepped forward and stared him straight in the eye.
"Please help me escape Night Run."
The satyr's eyes widened in surprise. They stared at each other in the faint light of the ritual circle. Relara could hear her own heartbeat in her ears.
"That's... not what I expected you to say," the satyr muttered slowly. He glanced around the courtyard, making sure they were alone. "Do you have any idea what you're asking?"
"I'm asking you to help me get out of this nightmare," Relara said. "The wisps led me to you. I don't know why, but they did."
"Wisps?" The satyr frowned. "I don't see any wisps."
Of course he couldn't see them. They were meant for her eyes only.
"Look, I don't know your name or why you're different from the others," Relara continued. "But something brought me here. To you. If there's even a small part of you that remembers what it was like before... before all this corruption..."
The satyr's expression darkened. "You don't know what you're talking about, night elf."
His tone lacked the typical venom she'd heard from other satyrs.
If anything, he sounded defensive…
"My name is Avrus," he said after a moment. "Avrus Illwhisper. And you're the one they're trying to turn into a life-drainer."
"Relara Whitemoon," she replied. "And yes, that's what they're doing to me. Seven more days and I'll be just another demon serving your clan."
Avrus glanced at the ritual circle behind him. The shadowy magic continued to swirl.
"Even if I wanted to help you," he said finally, "which I'm not saying I do, it would be impossible. Night Run is surrounded by warriors, warlocks, rogues, corrupted wisps, felhounds, and Ancients of War. The only way out is through the main gate, and that's heavily guarded."
"There has to be another way," Relara insisted. "The wisps wouldn't have led me to you if there wasn't."
"Your precious wisps are wrong then." Avrus turned away from her. "Go back to the celebration before someone notices you're missing."
But he didn't move to stop her from staying. And he didn't call for guards.
Relara stepped closer. "You want to leave too, don't you?"
Avrus went very still. "What did you say?"
"You want to leave Night Run. You want to stop being a satyr." Relara was guessing, but something in his posture told her she was right. "That's why you're here alone instead of at the party. That's why you look so tired."
"You don't know anything about what I want," Avrus said, but his voice was barely above a whisper.
"Then tell me I'm wrong," Relara challenged. "Look me in the eye and tell me you're happy being a servant of the Burning Legion. Tell me you enjoy watching our people get corrupted and tortured."
Avrus turned back to face her, and for just a moment, his mask slipped.
The pain in his eyes was raw and real.
"It doesn't matter what I want," he said. "There's no going back from this. Once you become a satyr, that's it. You're trapped forever."
"That's not true," Relara said firmly. "You're lying to yourself."
Avrus stared at her. "What?"
"You heard me. You're lying to yourself because it's easier than admitting you still have a choice." Relara's amber eyes blazed. "Do you really believe Elune has abandoned you? That she's turned her back on you forever just because your body changed?"
"Look at me!" Avrus snarled, gesturing at his corrupted form. "I have hooves and horns! My blood burns with fel magic! How could the Moon Goddess ever accept something like this?"
"Because she sees your spirit, not your flesh," Relara shot back. "Elune's light shines on all her children who still carry love in their hearts. The druids teach that nature accepts all forms of life as long as they seek harmony instead of destruction."
"Pretty words," Avrus said bitterly. "But the priestesses would kill me on sight."
"Some might," Relara admitted. "But not all. Not the wise ones who understand that Elune judges by deeds, not appearance." She gestured toward the night sky above them. "Look up, Avrus. Can you still see her light? Can you still feel it calling to the part of you that remembers what it was like to be free?"
Avrus glanced upward despite himself. The moon was nearly full, shining silver light down into the forest. His expression softened.
"I used to pray to her every night," he whispered. "Before all this happened."
"Then pray now," Relara urged. "Ask her for guidance. Ask her if redemption is truly impossible."
"The corruption runs too deep-"
"The corruption is in your body, not your soul!" Relara interrupted. "If your soul was truly lost, would you be standing here talking to me instead of dragging me back to the celebration? Would you feel guilt about what's happened to those other Sentinels?"
Avrus went quiet. His hands clenched into fists at his sides.
"I can't change what I've become," he said finally.
"Maybe not," Relara agreed. "But you can choose what you do next. You can help me escape this place. You can strike a blow against the very demons who destroyed your life." She stepped forward again, close enough to see the conflict in his burning eyes.
"Please, Avrus. Help me. Help yourself. Don't let them win."
The satyr stared at her with a conflicted look in his eyes. Then he let out a deep sigh.
"Elune preserve us both," he muttered. "If we're going to do this, we have to destroy the Soul Gem."
He turned toward the ritual circle. Relara followed his gaze and saw the large red crystal floating in the center of the magical energies.
"The Soul Gem of the Cult of the Dark Strand," Avrus explained. "The Felmusk Clan is guarding it for them."
"What's the Cult of the Dark Strand?" Relara asked.
Avrus's eyes narrowed. "They're led by Athrikus Narassin. When the Great Sundering began ten thousand years ago, he was a Highborne sorcerer who promised to save hundreds of our people from the destruction. Instead, he trapped their souls in gems like this one."
Relara felt sick. "He betrayed them."
"Worse than betrayed them. He's been draining their souls for ten millennia to fuel his own power. The cult gets stronger every time they consume one of these gems." Avrus gestured at the floating crystal. "There aren't many left. Most have been used up over the centuries."
"And this one?"
"The clan's defenses are partially tied to it. The corrupted wisps gain stability from the gem's presence." Avrus looked at her seriously. "If we destroy it, the magical surge will disrupt everything. The wisps will scatter, the felhounds will lose our scent, and the guards will be confused long enough for us to slip away."
Relara nodded, but something else bothered her, something she had to know. "Why is the Felmusk Clan trying to transform me into a special demon?"
"Because you were meant for Athrikus personally," Avrus said gloomily. "He wants to expand his personal guard with self-created demons. Ones with exceptional potential. One of the members of the cult noticed you, and corrupted your father with promises of demonic immortality through becoming a Satyr. Then the Cult had him gather materials to prepare your body for the ritual. The Felmusk Clan were meant to break your will, and requested the help of the Jadefire from Felwood when you showed great resistance."
Relara's hands clenched into fists.
Orcs killed her mother.
A cult corrupted her father.
Satyrs tormented her.
And some ancient Highborne night elf wanted to turn her into his personal weapon.
The list of enemies she wanted to utterly destroy just kept growing.
"How do we break it?" she asked through gritted teeth.
That's when she felt the presence of what she could only assume to be Elune herself touching her mind again.
[From Lower States - Chinese Mythology]
A few kinds of demons were once inanimate objects. Being spirits of those, they could manifest their true forms. You are able to manifest an object of your choice, and depending on what it is, are skilled in its use. If it's a musical instrument like a Pi Pa you can play music with it skillfully, or if it's something like a sword you may be skilled in fighting with it. What manifests will be able to channel your powers through it.
Relara hesitated for a moment. The blessing mentioned demons, which made her nervous. But she trusted that Elune wouldn't offer her anything that would truly corrupt her. This had to be a blessing that copied the abilities of certain demonic spirits without the actual corruption.
She glanced down at the dark tattoos covering her chest and sighed. At this point, she needed every advantage she could get if she wanted to escape and get her revenge.
Relara accepted the blessing.
The moment she did, her amber eyes flashed with white light.
Avrus stumbled backward. "What's happening to you?"
Relara smiled, the first genuine smile she'd felt in weeks. "Elune has given me a blessing in this time of great need."
Even as the words left her mouth, she slowly began to understand what the blessing truly meant. In the ancient traditions of an unknown region, it was believed that objects could gain spirituality through deep emotion or powerful events. A sword wielded by a great hero for decades might develop its own spirit, or a bow that had saved countless lives might awaken to consciousness.
These spiritual objects became extensions of their wielder's very essence, capable of channeling not just physical force but the strength of the soul itself.
For Relara, the object that manifested was obvious. She'd been trained with the bow since childhood. She'd dreamed of joining the Sentinels as a huntress.
Even now, trapped and tortured, she still thought like one.
The bow was part of who she was.
Relara raised her hands, and silvery light began to gather between her palms.
The light took shape, forming into a bow made of pure spiritual energy.
She could feel the weapon's connection to her soul. It would grow stronger as she did. More importantly, she could channel any power through it, including the life-draining energy from her tattoos. The bow also had another advantage. If she ever found a physical bow, she could overlay the spiritual weapon on top of it. That would let her use both the bow's own enchantments and the power of her spirit at the same time.
"By the moon," Avrus whispered, staring at the glowing weapon. "I've never seen anything like that."
Relara smirked as she drew the string back. An arrow of the same silvery light appeared, nocked and ready to fly.
"Will this be enough to break the Soul Gem?" she asked, keeping her voice low.
Avrus stared at the glowing arrow. "That feels very… pure. Something like that might actually work."
"How long will we have before the guards figure out what's going on?" Relara asked.
"Maybe twenty seconds if we're lucky," Avrus replied. "The magical backlash will be loud. Every satyr in Night Run will come running to see what happened."
It wasn't much time, but it was better than nothing.
Relara aimed the spiritual arrow at the floating red gem. The Soul Gem pulsed with dark magic, and she could almost hear whispers coming from inside it. The trapped soul of one of her people, crying out for release after ten thousand years of torment.
Whoever it was, they deserved justice!
"For Elune," Relara whispered, and released the arrow.