Tale of a Forsaken, Pt. 1
Numb and bewildered, she walked. The roads were familiar scenes dug out from some foggy memory she’d left far behind her. Direction, however, was not something she worried herself with. She knew exactly where to go. The lingering stench of death; smells of longing and misery were strong in the air. The scent was unmistakable.
Growing from the roots of the horizon, Mishikah watched the Lordaeron wall reach nearer to the sky. The grey stone guard was a painful sight to look upon, reminding her of something once was. Worry began to toss and turn, making itself noticed within her stomach. Would rumor prove to be nothing more than just that? Or could it be that she might find a place to feel at peace with herself and what she had become, after all? She had all day to stand in place and consider this. She had eternity, she realized. There was no one waiting somewhere for her. There was no cottage to call home, no fire burning to keep her warm. Only ruin. That’s all anyone found within the many acres of this fallen kingdom these past few years.
Sighing, Mishikah walked forward, entering the former capital city of Lordaeron. There was nothing left to lose. Passing the throne of her fallen King, she was still in deep contemplation of what she was about to do, asking herself if this was truly justifiable. The years old blood of King Terenas, stained into the floor, snapped her back into focus. Of course this decision was right! The Prince’s defiance was unforgettable. And the results of what was the Third War were unforgivable.