The horse galloped with strength, ignoring all noises and movement around it and the play of shadows in the night that would claim its courage. It was a good horse, strong and disciplined, its spirit forged by the training and blessings of the Argent Crusade. Still, it was not Dreamwalker and Alfos was painfully aware of that, especially tonight.

​

He looked ahead, into the night, and guided his steed with almost mechanical moves, his mind wondering in the past, the present and the future. Only when he had left the Hinterlands behind him and rode into the all-too familiar grounds of Hillsbrad did he look around him. His eyes were fixed on the garrison and houses of the Order's Headquarters as he passed by with speed, saluting, mostly out of habit than anything else, some guards who looked at him with suspicion and weapons in the ready. Then, he looked ahead, and, as if to affirm his destination and avoid temptation, he spurred his steed to gallop faster into and through the Silverpine Forest. Howls were heard as the forest's inhabitants informed their kindred about the new comer and possible pray.

​

The moon came higher when he finally allowed his horse to reduce speed. Its tired steps on the stone echoed into the night. Alfos felt uneasy, not sure why his contact would choose this place for a meeting but then again, he was not one to pay attention to borders. When he finally reached his destination, he pulled the reins and stopped, starring at the closed gates of Gilneas.

​

"You are late". It was more of a growl than a voice but it was familiar. Alfos looked up and there he was, Nashpyroxx the Red, with his wings folded on his body and his talons tightly grabbing the stones of the Gate's walls, a silent and terrible guardian in the night.

​

"I came as fast as I could, Nashpyroxx. It was no easy task to leave them again" replied Alfos in a moody voice, as he came down from his horse. He knew there was no scold from his friend, only a jest but his mood was fowl tonight. The dragon measured him with his eyes for a bit before he spoke again.

​

"Come" he said, as he stretched his wings and neck. The moon made his scales glitter like a million red fireflies in a spring night and his eyes flared yellow, beacons of intelligence, age and hidden power. "We have a long flight ahead of us and I am eager to start. Standing here with the saddle has made my muscles sore" he went on, shaking his body and straightening his legs.

​

"My charger?" asked the man. "I cannot leave him here".

​

"It will be taken care of" came the reply, as the dragon jumped with spread wings near him, making the steed neigh in fear.

​

"But there are..."

​

"It will be taken care of" Nashpyroxx said again and his voice left no doubt. Alfos looked at the horse for a bit then around him.

​

"If you say so" he gave up and climbed to the saddle waiting for him on the dragon's back.

​

And, with a jump, they were flying. Below, Alfos thought he saw a figure approaching the horse but then the gates covered the scene and he turned his attention to the lights of Gilneas. He wondered what the people of this land were like and if his horse would soon find out. He did not wonder long. Confident that Nashpyroxx would never allow him to fall, he hung his shoulders and let Sleep cover his senses.

​

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

​

"My Lord".

 

Alfos kneeled in respect as the blond elf entered the room and motioned for him to rise. He was beautiful, the old man thought, but it was a dangerous beauty, the kind of beauty that Death wears when he wants to lure his victims. Still, the elf's eyes betrayed kindness and concern.

​

"Rise, sir Knight, rise and sit down" he went on to motion to a purple velvet armchair, as he, in turn, sat on one opposite. "Nash tells me you have been travelling through the night. Rest a bit".

​

"Thank you but I would rather stand. My muscles need all the exercise they can get at this age" the old man replied.

​

"Your age? I thought we had taken care of your age" the elf replied, winking and smiling.

​

"You just made sure I would stay at this age longer, my Lord" said Alfos, with a forced smile and making Krasus burst into laughter.

​

"And for that you must decide if you are to include us to your prayers or your curses!"

​

"I was given the opportunity to serve Light, and your kind, for a little bit more. I can only thank and bless for that".

​

The elf bowed his head, satisfied with the answer. "Come" he said "enough of this. Tell me, what news do you bring from the South? What of your Order and the the Blades?"

​

Alfos sighed.

​

"It is as we had heard, I am afraid, my Lord. As of yesterday, the Order of the Blade is no more. The world just lost a strong weapon. The Blades will be needed and missed in the events to come. Still, even without their Order, the individuals will be here and they will do their part when the time comes".

​

"Do you trust them?"

​

"I do. The Blades have ever been allies of the Knights and I have had the honor and privilege to fight beside them many times. Strong, trustworthy individuals, the lot of them and while I do not know how they will be without leadership, I am confident that they will abide to the Blades' ethics, no matter where they go".

​

The elf nodded in thought, sipping some wine from a cup in silence.

​

"And your Order?" he said after a while, looking at Alfos again.

​

"They too have lost track of Lady Aeiira although they do know that she was last seen in Silithus. Perhaps we should resume our search there, my Lord? Still, I found out yesterday that the reins of the Order have been given to Sister Holly Zeal, a Paladin of strong character and kind heart. She can be somewhat sentimental and at times may seem soft but she possesses wisdom beyond her age and she identifies her faults even before others do. She has appointed Harmon Vandyke as her right hand in matters of war and military preparation. Harmon is everything a drill sergeant dreams of: strong, proud, stingy with words and ready for action at all times. If any Knight was allowed to fall out of shape, Harmon will make sure they're fit and disciplined in no time. Harmon is a strong weapon and, in the hands of Sister Zeal, he will be precise as well".

​

"What about numbers?"

​

"I did not have a chance to visit the Headquarters alone and go through the roster. Rumors, however, in Stormwind and Goldshire speak of a general rise in numbers, albeit small. In the end, it doesn't matter all that much, my Lord. The Knights have always fought against the odds and, more often than not, prevailed". Pride colored the voice and face of the Paladin and it did not go unnoticed. The elf smiled as he looked at him, but there was a hint of sadness in his smile.

​

"I wonder if we were cruel when we offered you to swear yourself to us, Alfos" he said. "This expression you have when you speak of the Knights... Other men have it when talking about their children or grandchildren but you... What chance you could have had for a family, we finally stole it from you once and for all, haven't we?" The Paladin was caught off guard. He looked at the elf at a loss, then resumed his posture but not for long. He tried not to reply and let the matter rest but he couldn't.

​

"Light is my father" he whispered, half proud for his answer, half broken. "My land is my mother. The Knights are my children. And now your kind, Lord Krasus, are my brothers and sisters. I have my family and I thank Light for it. If I was, or if I am ever to have another, then I would thank the Light for that blessing too. But to ask for more when I have been blessed in so many ways already, it would be hubris".

​

The elf starred at the old man long without speaking. He looked half a man, in his eyes. One half, Alfos the Paladin, the Champion, the Commander, had little else to ask for but a noble death. The other half, Alfos the man, whom age had claimed, was empty, broken, deprived of even the simplest things someone aspired to.

​

"Well then" the elf finally spoke "you have done well and I will pass your report to the Queen. She will decide what your next assignment will be. Until then, you are to return to your people".

​

Alfos raised his head with confusion and amazement.

​

"Was my Lord displeased at some way?" he asked hastely. "Has your confidence in my abilities diminished, for some reason? If so, I am ready and eager to prove my worth at any mission you decide, Lordship!"

​

"No, nothing of the kind, Alfos. This is your mission. Return to the Knights and offer them your assistance. Guide them safely to the bleak future that awaits us all. Ensure that their goals remain clear and their numbers safe. Advise them and help the new leadership with their task".

​

"Advise?! My Lord, it was agreed that..."

​

"I know what it is you want, Alfos" the elf interrupted with a harsh voice. "I promised you a chance for a death on the battlefield and, believe me, you will have your chance, like you already have had. I'd rather, however, it happened later rather than sooner. Besides" he went on with in a calmer tone "it is only a temporary assignment until the Queen positions you elsewhere. She, like I, knows your...preferences and honors them accordingly. But you did swear yourself to the Red Dragonflight and our work is rarely on the battlefield. For now, this is what we expect you to do".

​

"As you wish, my Lord" said Alfos and, after taking a bow, he left the room swallowing bitterly.