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Sylvanas Windrunner, banshee queen of the Forsaken and once the ranger- general of Silvermoon strode down the moist corridor in the bowels of the Undercity. Her high heels clacked loudly as she stepped on the grimy flagstones and her long cape fluttered behind her. Despite her armor being designed for mobility and leaving her midriff and cleavage exposed, the undead high elf showed no discomfort at the clammy air in the catacombs. Undeath had dulled all sensations to a degree, which served Sylvanas well in some cases and proved a curse in others. The Dark Lady raised one armored gauntlet and knocked on the heavy, grime-encrusted oak door at the end of the corridor. There was a shuffling from within, and then a small shutter slid open in the door. A pair of narrow yellow eyes scrutinized the queen carefully before there was the sounds of mechanisms clicking as the unseen observer unlocked the door and admitted Sylvanas. She strode into the crowded laboratory with her usual regal bearing, regarding the hunched-over Forsaken woman with long stringy grey hair who was currently closing the door carefully again. "Milady, I am honored that you considered my research to be so important," the undead woman wheezed as she scurried over to prostrate herself for the Dark lady. "My research into the item you procured has indeed yielded a fully reproducible result, and I have continued to your specifications." "Good. Is the portal to Stormwind prepared?" Sylvanas asked, her voice as cold as her body. The woman walked over to a large, ornate archway resting on the floor near the far end. Arcane runes, the language of the Kirin Tor, encrusted the circumference of the circular portal. "Yes, milady. Are you sure it's... ehm... safe to go on such an important mission alone?" Sylvanas waved her clawed gauntlet dismissively. "Am I not the Dark Lady, Myra?" The forsaken scientist bowed again, walking over to a large glass tube filled with swirling, opaque fluid. The tube was fixed in a metal frame filled with wires and odd machinery, and as Myra fiddled with the controls it began to drain. "The disguise you captured was undoubtedly Syrenne's work. She left no prototypes or notes behind when she fled Undercity, but I can sense her craftsmanship in it. My version will be superior, of course." Sylvanas did not seem to pay much attention to the rambling of her minion. The Banshee Queen reached up to fold her hood down, letting her long, washed-out hair spill out over her back and shoulders. She was still beautiful despite undeath, still the object of many men's fancy, but due to her iron will and ruthlessness none could ever come near her. Somewhere deep down inside, hidden away from even herself, Sylvanas longed to be alive again, to walk the streets of the sunlit world without being recognized, feared and loathed. She was broken out of her reverie by Myra approaching with a wet, elastic object draped across her skinny rat-eaten arms. "You are sure this is a good choice of a disguise, Myra?" Sylvanas asked, peering down at the object. "I would have thought something closer to my true form would be advisable." Myra shook her head vehemently, sending strands of thin grey hair flying everywhere. "Milady, the trick with such an infiltration is to ensure none who look upon you even consider that you might be in disguise. If we disguise you as a comely quel'dorei lady you will be comfortable in your own skin... so to speak... but you might betray your secret through mannerisms or behavior. Choosing a guise that is alien to your own lets you always stay on edge." Sylvanas nodded. She had agreed to this part of the plan as well when she had ordered Myra to pursue the development of this magical artifact, but she did feel some doubts now. Her metal-tipped fingers brushed across the smooth surface of the item, and when she was satisfied she reached out and picked it up, shaking it out. Dangling from the Banshee Queen's hands was the life-size empty skin of a night elf. The thing looked real enough that it might have been ripped from a living kaldorei, but Sylvanas knew it was actually vat-grown using a number of obscure magical fluids. The light purple skin was smooth and very realistic, marred only by the long open seam reaching from the nape of the neck to the buttocks. Though empty, the skin seemed to indicate a lean swimmer's muscle tone with strong legs used to running. The skin was undoubtedly male, with handsome features on its clean-shaven face. A mane of long dark blue hair was attached to the scalp of the suit and although the eyes and mouth were empty and lifeless they seemed very fascinating to Sylvanas. Flopping like an empty sock from the suit's groin was a male member, or at least the empty form of one. "You have outdone yourself," Sylvanas said to her underling. "None will suspect who lies behind this facade as I infiltrate and steal the greatest secrets of their pitiful Alliance. With those as bargaining chips, I will easily be able to assert greater influence in the Horde." "Yes milady," Myra said stepping back from her Queen. "Your power is supreme." With her interest totally captured by the empty suit in her hands, Sylvanas barely acknowledged Myra's presence. The Banshee Queen felt a sudden urge well up inside her, a curiosity she didn't know she had. She walked over one of the small tables to the side of the laboratory and laid the suit out across the back of a wooden chair. Then she began undressing, starting by unhooking her long cape from her shoulderpads. "You have your orders for when I am gone?" Sylvanas asked her underling as she pulled her clawed gauntlets off. "Yes, milady. You are off on a diplomatic meeting and your ranger underling Nathanos will be the custodian of Undercity, while the Dark Rangers handle day-to-day affairs," Myra hissed, fearful to even look at her Queen as she undressed. "Good. They have all been briefed on the situation, though perhaps not on every detail," Sylvanas said, undoing the final buckle that held her thigh-high armored boot in place and pulling it off. The Banshee Queen laughed a mirthless, hollow laugh which served mostly to unnerve her servant. "Can you imagine how humiliating this will be for the Alliance, Myra? One of their greatest enemies, someone they have demonized and warned children against, right in their midst with nobody the wiser." "It is nothing less than what they deserve for forsaking us and these lands... for treating us like monsters," Myra said in her sibilant voice. Sylvanas nodded, depositing her feathered shoulderpads on the table to join her cloak, gauntlets and boots. She reached behind her to undo the clasps for her ornate halter, slipping it off and letting her large breasts flop free in the chill air. Flipping the garment onto the table she hooked her fingers into her pants (having already removed the armored covering when she removed her boots) and tugged them down. Feeling a very fervent need to try the disguise on, Sylvanas slipped her panties down her long, smooth legs and stepped out of them, moving to pick the skin up. She held it up, studying it again. She had been silly to have felt awkward about this choice of disguise. This would be perfect. Slipping her blue-skinned leg into the slit on the back of the suit, Sylvanas found it moist and warm, but not unpleasant. She shoved her leg hard into that of the suit, wiggling her toes to fit them into those of the disguise. Repeating the process with her other leg she tugged the suit up over her hips, grunting a bit as the garment clamped down on her. Pulling the seam wide, Sylvanas pulled the bulk of the disguise up and began sliding the empty arms on like gloves. It was a pleasant feeling to have the suit glide over her undead skin, and she felt an increased urge to finish. Tugging the suit back, her large breasts were smushed against the firm pecs of the suit's chest. She plunged her head into the hollow mask of the suit after bunching her long hair up behind her neck, then began working the seam shut. The Banshee Queen felt a wonderful sensation rush through her as she donned the costume. She suddenly felt much more vital and energetic, and she knew the feeling would only get more pleasant. As Myra watched, Sylvanas tugged the seam of the suit upwards, the firm purple flesh closing together over her decomposed undead skin. Finally the Dark Lady's disguised hands reached the end of the seam, closing it up right at the nape of her neck and hiding the mass of Sylvanas' hair inside. The masked figure shuddered as the suit adjusted and finished the changes. "Milady?" Myra asked tentatively, approaching the disguised Queen. "Yes, I am alright," said Sylvanas in a completely different voice than her real one. Her new voice was a pleasant baritone, lacking the slightly hollow tone it had previously carried. Myra gasped as she slowly circled the disguised figure, marveling at how her work had paid off. Rather than the sensuous female shape of the undead ranger-general, a handsome young night elf man stood before her, flexing his lean muscles and studying his body. His eyes had the silvery spark of a kaldorei and his dark blue hair was a vibrant mass of midnight in the badly lit laboratory. Most noticeably to the female forsaken, his large manhood was stiffening in the chill air. "This feels wonderful," the disguised Sylvanas exclaimed. "Almost like being alive again! I cannot wait to put this disguise to the test." "Yes, milady. Shall we do that, then?" Myra said, feeling a bit awkward with the erection the disguised Sylvanas was developing. "Right, of course," the Dark Lady replied, after being preoccupied studying her new hands for a bit. "Bring me the gear of my disguise." Myra bowed and hurried over to retrieve a carefully wrapped package from a workbench. The gear had been crafted by the best artisans the Horde could muster, some of it reconstructed from stolen designs and other bits scavenged in battles. Sylvanas opened the package and quickly began getting dressed in the outfit provided. Soon the night elf male was dressed in a flowing green kilt covered with leaf designs and a set of matching leather ankle wraps and gloves. Fixing a few straps around her firm arm muscles, Sylvanas finished the disguise by tying the night elf's long hair into a ponytail. Slinging a simple bag over one purple shoulder, Sylvanas then grabbed the knobbly staff covered in vines that Myra handed her. The disguised Queen was the spitting image of a young, inexperienced druid. "Everything looks in order" Sylvanas said, checking the satchel for the special contingency items she had ordered Myra provide. "I shall begin my mission." Myra trailed after the disguised Sylvanas as she strode confidently across the room to the portal. The forsaken woman put in the arcane activation sequence, and soon the object had created a swirling, blurry image of a grassy hillside in an idyllic forest, hovering like the reflection in a pond of water at the center of the stone arch. "Please be careful, milady," Myra said, bowing. "Hmmm, yes, good point. I had best start getting used to not referring to myself that way," Sylvanas said. Considering the situation and her disguise carefully, Sylvanas suddenly changed posture. Whereas before she had moved with the imperious demeanor of her real form, she now relaxed and let herself stand casually. She moved her legs further apart into a male stance, and rolled one shoulder to release a crank in the knotted muscles beneath. For the duration of this mission I am not Sylvanas Windrunner, the disguised figure repeated mentally. I am Anderos Swiftclaw, druid of Darnassus, sent to Stormwind to train. Barely giving the Forsaken woman a second glance, Anderos stepped through the portal. After a disconcerting experience where her... no his... world was turned inside out, suddenly he felt the pleasant sensation of fresh grass under his bare feet rather than the clammy flagstones of the subterranean laboratory. He looked around the surrounding area on the beauty of Elwynn forest, and then to the tall spires and towers looming beyond. Anderos quickly set off towards the gates of Stormwind, suppressing a mocking laughter. *** "Look at her glancing over at our table all the time," Mikal said with a wry grin. "She wants you." "Me? She might as well be eying you!" his night elf companion said, trying to hide how awkward he felt. The duo, seated at their regular table in the Bronze Kettle inn, could not be more different, something that never failed to amuse the other guests. Mikal was a human training to be a priest and his youthful handsome features with sandy-blonde hair and blue eyes and his always impeccable priestly robes painted him as a refined youth of the city. Next to him, Anderos was tall, muscular and slightly feral-looking, the night elf appearing like a dream-image of some primeval forest dweller brought to life. After successfully infiltrating the city with his forged paper, Anderos (or Sylvanas rather) had quickly joined the group of students training for the position of battle-healer in the Alliance military. It was a mundane life, and one that bored Sylvanas to tears. The young men and women to whom Anderos had been assigned practiced spells, first aid and combat during the day, then studied tactics and strategy during the night. Often, the priests of the Light who handled the more spiritual side of the training held sermons and communes, although Anderos and any other non-believers were excused from these if they wanted to. The truth of course was that Sylvanas already knew most of the things that were being taught. She was the best shot with a bow in the civilized world and a lightning-fast deadly swordswoman. His classmates, of course, simply assumed Anderos had practiced relentlessly in his homeland before making the pilgrimage to Stormwind, and were in slight awe of the tall, handsome night elf youth. "You're the one walking around without a shirt," Mikal said with a grin, waving a little over towards the bar. "Of course she's looking at you." Anderos rolled his eyes, and wished his new-found 'friend' would stop this. Anderos did not know why he had begun spending time with Mikal, except perhaps that having someone to talk to as they suffered through repetitive exercises made them less dull. Sylvanas had not had anything resembling a friend since her death, and Anderos found it strange that he was actually enjoying Mikal's companionship. To an extent, of course. The human lad could be very annoying when he wanted to, like when he tried to pair up the awkward night elf with any eligible young woman he could find. "I told you, I do not find Sylessa attractive," Anderos whispered to his friend, trying to avoid the attention of the redhead high elf girl at the bar. "She is just not my type." Mikal rolled his eyes. "Oh, really? Is she too short and too pale for you? Come on Ander, live a little. You may not have this kind of chance again! When you're off in some distant land freezing your druid buns off while healing plague-ridden soldiers you'll kick yourself for not sharing her bed when you had the chance. Look at her, so soft, so graceful..." Mikal fluttered his eyelashes and puckered his lips at Anderos. "I told you, I don't feel cold," Anderos said, trying to desperately steer the conversation away. "...not much, anyway." Mikal rolled his eyes in exasperation and leaned back in his chair to sip his wine. Fortunately both of them were drinking age by the standard of their species, at least according to Stormwind law. Anderos didn't realize how much he'd missed the sensation of warm fuzzy contentment that could be had from a good drink. However these little pleasures were often overshadowed by doubts. Anderos wondered if this had been a good idea. He was fine as long as the group he was in was still in basic training, but even though he had the body of a kaldorei druid he could not cast druid spells or use any druid special abilities. Thus his mission to gather intelligence would need to be done quickly, before the months of basic training were over. Moreover, Anderos felt... urges. It was complicated to even think about, but sometimes he looked on Mikal's fine human features and wondered what the lad would be like in bed. Beneath the disguise, Sylvanas had discovered urges she had suppressed for a long time. However Anderos was a male, and somehow the thought of seducing his friend into a tryst seemed wrong. But then on the other hand, Anderos also felt his manhood twitch when the high elf priestess Sylessa spoke with him or Mikal, and found himself lost in her delicate features. And to the Dark Lady, women held no interest, so this desire too felt wrong. Anderos felt a headache coming on, and suddenly wished he was back in his quarters soaking in a cold bath. "...and that's when we moved into the city. Or so dad says, anyway. He wanted me to become a guardsman, but my mother always urged me to seek the path of a healer. Hey, hey Ander? Come back from the Emerald Dream, longears!" Anderos blinked and snapped out of his train of thought to find Mikal grinning at him. "Ah, finally rejoined us, have you? Thanks for listening to intently to me pouring my heart out, friend. Really gives me a fuzzy feeling," Mikal said and suppressed a giggle. Anderos sighed. "Sorry, sorry. I was in a different world. Start over, please." "Well, you see, my family weren't always city folk..." Mikal said, restarting his tale. Anderos sat back and listened, and decided to focus on the acts of espionage he would soon perform rather than any potential distractions of the flesh. Sylvanas had not counted on just how good the suit felt when worn. Anderos breathed and tasted the air like a normal living being. He felt the sunlight on his firm muscles. He smelled the flowers growing on the edge of the training grounds. He almost felt like blood rushed through his veins and as if he breathed like a living being, all of which brought back memories of Sylvanas' youth. Carefree, warm summer days spent fishing or playing with her sisters in Eversong woods, a world and a time now both long dead. "...and you're not listening again. Dammit Ander, you night elves really do just kind of drift off, don't you?" Mikal's incessant voice came. Sometimes Anderos wanted to do nothing more than rip the suit to shreds and become Sylvanas again. He had fantasies about tearing Mikal's heart out as punishment for his annoyance, of slaying and reanimating Sylessa as a servant. But as of yet the disguised Queen had done no such thing. Instead Anderos chuckled. "Yeah, I suppose we do. But I am aware enough to know we're late for practice if we don't leave now." The human priest followed his friend away from the table and back out into the streets, while the redheaded high elf girl followed them with her eyes all the way. *** "How do you do that?" Mikal said with strain in his voice as he wobbled on top of the up-ended log. He and Anderos were standing on one leg, practicing balance in difficult conditions. Several other cadets were either practicing the same or doing other exercises around the yard area. Some were whacking on practice dummies with wooden swords, axes or staves, some were jogging, some were sparring and some simply building their strength or agility. Anderos stood with one bare foot firmly planted on the end of the log and the other leg gracefully folded behind him. The night elf wanted to tell Mikal that his exception balance had been groomed by walking around in stiletto heels and doing acrobatic archery for longer than the human had been alive, just to see Mikal's slack-jawed expression. "Oh just being in balance with nature," Anderos said with a grin. "You should try it. You just meditated a lot about what it's like being a tree." Mikal wobbled and gave his friend a doubting look. "A tree, huh? And that makes you quick, nimble and strong?" "I guarantee it," Anderos said and laughed. "Well I think Sylessa's gotten in contact with her inner tree, don't you think?" Mikal said slyly. Anderos blinked in surprise and followed his human friend's gaze. Across the dirt path in the middle of the yard a group of students were learning the basics of self-defense, something every ordained recruit to the Alliance military must know, regardless of their future role. Sylessa was there, stripped down to a halter top and skimpy bottom, her hands and feet wrapped in thick cloth for protection and a headband keeping her long red hair away from her face. As Anderos' eyes found her, the girl practiced a number of kicks and punches against her sparring partner, and the night elf found his eyes traveling down the girl's curves, resting on her chest, hips and buttocks. And then Anderos was on his back on the rough ground staring up into the blue sky. Mikal's grinning face came into view overhead. "Balance with nature, huh?" he said with a smirk. Anderos' eyes widened as Mikal opened his simple training jacket and discarded it on top of a training dummy, showing off his lean but fit torso. Suddenly Sylessa loomed into view next to Mikal with a very concerned look on her face. "Well don't just stand there you doofus, help him!" she snapped at Mikal, and soon two pairs of arms were helping Anderos to his feet. He could feel the hot breath of both Sylessa and Mikal on his skin and his nostrils picked up the faint scent of sweat on their bodies. He was suddenly aware that his hearing was dulled because of a persistent buzz in his ears and that the back of his head throbbed. Sylvanas screamed inside, wanting to tear out of the suit right there into the comforting, cold embrace of undeath. But instead Anderos accepted the help and swallowed. "I... think I need to lie down a bit," he mumbled. As the night elf boy hurried off, Sylessa stared after him with a curious glance, while Mikal just shrugged and sipped some water from a glass. "Sun got to him, I guess?" Mikal said nonchalantly. "Yeah. Maybe," Sylessa said, thinking. *** The following few weeks passed by very fast. The warm summer weather continued, letting the cadets continue to practice outdoors for most of the course. Anderos was always at the top of the class for physical exercises, but Mikal easily outdid him in theological matters. It seemed strange to the human that his night elf companion seemed almost willfully ignorant on some customs and beliefs related to the Light, but he also realized that the druidic belief of the night elves was quite different. Still, both boys kept well ahead in their training. In their spare time, Anderos seemed to somewhat grudgingly spend some of his free hours with Mikal. At first the night elf had cooped himself up in his room in the barracks every night, vehement that he had no interest in seeing the sights and going 'about town' as Mikal called it. However as the internal struggle of the disguised Sylvanas continued, she admitted she was at least a little curious to see the human capital through these eyes. And slowly, she began entertaining the notion that she might not -just- see Mikal (and Sylessa) as horrible parasites out to drain away her patience. It was hard to shake the Forsaken notion that the living were selfish, spiteful creatures who refused to share their blessings with the undead. But slowly, Sylvanas began wondering if perhaps Mikal was not honestly interested in friendship. And so, despite some protests, Anderos let Mikal take him out to see the sights. The two boys visited the majestic Stormwind harbor where warships and merchant vessels departed for faraway lands. Anderos enjoyed the salty air in his lungs, once again wondering if he was indeed breathing. Another time Sylessa took him to visit the Mage District where the two enjoyed a quiet picnic on a grassy hill while looking up at the elegant steeples housing Stormwind's wizard population. On both occasion Anderos faked his way through brief meetings with other (genuine) night elves, and Sylvanas was happy she had studied up on her disguise beforehand. Spurred on by these trips, Anderos actually began venturing out of his quarters on his own in his spare time. The warm summer weather felt good against his exposed skin, and he felt a naughty thrill walking around so undressed, and yet totally hidden from onlookers. If they knew that they were looking at the Banshee Queen of the Forsaken, these people, these cattle, would all scatter screaming as she rained down death and destruction on their pitiful city. Tantrums were of course unbecoming of the Dark Lady, and so Anderos kept under firm control. He visited the public parts of Stormwind Keep, secretly thrilling at passing the guards without a second glance. He even caught a glimpse of king Varian Wrynn once as the monarch departed the palace under heavy guard. If only Sylvanas had had her bow and black arrows with her right then... Another time Anderos visited the Market District and found himself lost in the vast crowd of adventurers, merchants, peasants, guards and craftsmen. He was not even remotely the most attractive or most extraordinary person that day as he rubbed shoulders with straw-hat- wearing chubby pandaren, gold-armored draenei knights and pink-haired gnome artificers zooming through the air in mechanical contraptions. Anderos visited some of the shops and the crowded auction house, and when he returned to the barracks he for some reason he couldn't properly figure out himself carried something he bought in the auction house. He hid the package carefully inside his room, unsure of what to do with it. Sometime later all three of them went on a small trip to Elwynn forest where they just spent the day fishing and swimming in the river. Anderos was at first awkward about this, but ended up admiring the forms of both his companions from the riverbank as Sylessa and Mikal swam and playfully splashed each other. Sylvanas wondered why she was even indulging in this time-wasting foolishness and why she was abiding the presence of a bore like Mikal, but Anderos showed no outer sign of this conflict. In the evening the trio roasted some meat over an open fire and watched the stars, and ended up sleeping curled up together through the night, something that Anderos would have found repulsive only a few weeks earlier. But unfortunately, even such a peaceful summer had to end. *** Anderos crept up the wooden stairs in the darkness, his bare feet making about as much noise as a cat on the prowl. Fortunately his eyes were well adapted to the darkness and so he needed no light to reveal his position. Climbing the outer and inner walls of Stormwind Keep had proven only a brief obstacle, as Sylvanas was skilled beyond what normal mortals could hope. Without even needing to bother disturbing the guards the night elf had flitted from shadow to shadow before scaling the wall up to a certain window. With practiced ease he used a set of wires to open the windowpanes, making sure nobody was inside before slipping in, a shadow among other shadows. Once inside Anderos padded over to the door and listened. There were no noises coming from beyond, as he had hoped. It was past midnight and activity in the Keep was as low as it would ever be. With king Wrynn and his son out of town on a campaign and the end of basic training approaching fast, Anderos had made his move and put his plan into motion. Now he slunk through the door into the massive Alliance strategy room, prowling from table to table and studying charts and maps. He scribbled a few crude copies on scraps of parchment he had brought, but he knew that the truly valuable documents he could never copy before being caught. And so there was only one solution. He carefully picked out the most vital reports and maps detailing Alliance troop movement and operations in the northern half of the Eastern Kingdoms, rolled them up and slipped them into the satchel on his back together with his scribbled notes. With a feral grin, the night elf rushed towards the door back into the small side chamber. He was out the window and climbing down the wall in no time and was soon dashing through the courtyard again. He only needed to turn another corner and he would be at the ideal place to scale the outer wall again and return to the recruit barracks in complete silence. As he turned the corner, he bumped into a Stormwind guard going the other way. Fortunately the corner was exceedingly dark, and while Anderos caught the features of the guard sharply with his darkvision, the human only saw a lean dark shape. But the guard was no fool and quickly lashed out with his sword, calling for help. Anderos cursed as the simple footman's sword bit deep into his thigh, and spun around to land a roundhouse kick in the man's face. The guard crumbled and Anderos dashed as fast as he could for the wall before anyone could bring a lantern. He was up and over just as a few arrows whizzed past above his head and dived into the moat beyond, not emerging until he was sure he was not observed. Sneaking onto the opposite shore he rushed back to the barracks, worried at how numb his leg felt after the wound. She climbed the outside of the building and crept back into his room, closing and barring the windows again and quickly slipping out of his wet clothes. Hiding the satchel with the stolen documents under the loose floorboard where Anderos stored his other secret items (the emergency equipment Sylvanas had demanded from Myra and the gift-wrapped package from the auction house), the naked night elf slipped into bed and feigned sleep. It wasn't long until a rough knock on the door drew his attention. "Get up recruit, there's an intruder in the city and we need every man and woman to help search!" Anderos grinned to himself in the moonlight. Of course he'd help with the search. It was his duty, after all. *** "Yeah, it's definitely contagious" Anderos said through the door. "Sorry, I'm going to have to take a rain check on that bar trip you had planned." Mikal frowned. "Ander, you are a piece of work. You run around half-naked searching for that spy loose in the city and you get yourself the flu in the middle of summer." The night elf felt his already frayed nerves strain. "Just... leave, okay. Just go! I can take of myself! I just need some time alone!" "Sheesh Ander, you really are cranky. Is it because you can't see Sylessa in her cute little exercise outfi-" "Mikal, I swear by all that is holy if you don't stop prattling -right now- I'm going to wring your scrawny neck. Understand? I want to be left alone!" Anderos hollered. Mikal froze outside the door and when he spoke his voice was totally free of his usual mirth and joking tone. "Alright. Fine. I'm gone." His footsteps receded in the corridor beyond. Anderos walked away from the door, steadying himself on the table. He double-checked the locks on the door before unwrapping the bedsheet around his waist and studying his leg, sitting on the bed. Where the guard had cut him the previous night his rich purple flesh was gashed, but it wasn't just a regular wound. It had apparently torn the enchanted weave of the costume somehow, and Anderos' whole leg below the cut was a lifeless, wrinkled sack that hung loosely over Sylvanas' slender, pale leg. Her skin was clearly visible through the cut which unlike a real wound had grown into a huge rent in the skin. With a curse the night elf reached up to his neck and undid the seam, and soon Sylvanas was peeling Anderos' form off. She winced as each part of the night elf skin left contact with her because suddenly she was wrapped back in the veil of undeath that she had existed in ever since that day when Arthas slew her. It was like being plunged beneath the surface of an icy lake with everything suddenly distorted by the cold water and no the warmth of the sun only a distant memory. Sylvanas cursed and hung the bodysuit up next to Anderos' clothes. Peering close at the material of the suit, the Banshee Queen thought she could see the costume slowly begin to re-knit itself around the wound, now that it was removed. She vaguely recalled Myra saying something about serious injuries to the suit making it fail, but that it could slowly repair itself if left alone. It seemed that meant taking it off fully. Sylvanas realized she had no appropriate clothes for her real body, and wrapped herself in the bedsheet, sitting down to ponder the situation darkly. She could flee right now, using her skills and supernatural powers to hopefully escape before reinforcements arrived. Or she could wait and hope the bodysuit would indeed repair itself, and simply slip away as Anderos. Had she had her weapons and armor, the Dark Lady would easily have picked the first option. But as it was... She grunted in displeasure and sat back on the bed, suddenly taking no joy in the simple environs anymore. *** The following two days were harrowing for Sylvanas. Hiding inside Anderos' room while the bodysuit re-knitted itself, she occasionally had to done the malfunctioning thing to appear as the night elf male briefly, always covering his gravely wounded leg up with a blanket. Fortunately the wound did indeed present the night elf body with a strong fever and dizziness, so when the half-dressed Anderos was briefly examined by a healer (who was clearly worried about catching the disease herself) he was told to stay in his room as he had, which suited Anderos fine. Graduation was only a week off, but Sylvanas had to be gone before then. After that the cadets would continue to specific training headed by more skilled mentors, and Anderos' complete inability to cast any druidic magic would become evident. Sylvanas considered using her last-ditch escape plan, safely stowed in the satchel under the floorboards, but some faint desire to finish Anderos' affairs properly drove her to wait out the mending of the disguise. Mikal did not come to visit again, and Sylvanas found herself alternately relieved and saddened by this. In fact none of the other students really visited, scared as they were of the false disease afflicting the night elf, except to deliver food, water and fresh blankets now and then. One day while idling the day away with one of her nap-like rest periods Sylvanas thought she heard a faint bump, and suddenly realized she wished it was Mikal. However she saw no source for the odd sound and no knock came on the door and eventually just went back to her rest, sullen and impatient. The remainder of the healing period passed like molasses, with Sylvanas worried she might be discovered at any moment. Yet on the third morning after her daring theft, she woke up to find Anderos' skin fully healed and looking as pristine as when first she laid eyes on it. With a fervor and desire that surprised her, the Banshee Queen climbed back into the healed bodysuit like it was her last hope at life. Perhaps it was. *** "Look, Mikal, I... I just wanted to apologize. You... have been a good friend. And I was delirious from the fever. I... do not wish for us to part on a sour note," Anderos said through the door. He felt like he had been waiting there forever, and each moment made the raging debate within the night elf louder. One voice inside him screamed to leave this stupid human be and escape already. Another gently said that Mikal had been a good friend with no ulterior motives and deserved better. Anderos waited for another moment, then turned to leave. The door opened behind him. "Come in," Mikal said, sounding weary. Anderos had never been inside his classmate's domicile before, and was somewhat unsettled by how spartan it was. It seemed to hold only the young priest's clothes and equipment, and nothing more. Andero's eyes darted around looking for keepsakes, or pictures from Mikal's home, but found nothing. The priest shut the door behind Anderos, and they sat down opposite each other on the bed. "I shouldn't have pushed at you so much. I'm sorry. I just wanted you to loosen up and have fun. Life's too short to be uptight and scared of it," Mikal said with an unusual degree of seriousness. Anderos nodded. "It was my error. You just wanted to show me around, and I am thankful. Are you alright? You look tired?" Mikal's eyes darted out the window wistfully and he sighed. "I was just... I couldn't sleep well, knowing I'd driven you away. I thought I was a jerk. When... when my folks died, I almost buried myself in grief. I had to come out of that somehow, and that was through friends. I became cheerful, just like I'd been before. But maybe a bit too much, huh?" He gave a faint, hoarse laughter. "Your parents are... dead?" Anderos said incredulously. "But you told me..." "That we moved into the city, yes. We, my uncle and I. My mother and father... they didn't make it." Suddenly Anderos saw Mikal in new light. Sylvanas knew much too well what it was like to lose everyone you cared for. Anderos' hand reached out for Mikal's, and grabbed it gently. "It's okay. I'm not mad. I was just in pain. Didn't know what I was doing." Anderos had no idea how it happened, but suddenly he had pulled Mikal into a tight embrace and their lips met. At this moment the night elf and Banshee Queen felt a nearness to the young priest that went beyond the physical. All annoyance was washed away in the deep, heartfelt pleasure of feeling the touch of another living, breathing being so close. The human slid his hand into Anderos' kilt, searching for his manhood and finding it, grabbing the night elf member firmly and beginning to stroke it. Anderos groaned in pleasure. He had stimulated himself on occasion while in the suit, always stunned at how thorough the magical creation was, but this was different. They rose up and Mikal's stroking became more intense, Anderos closed his eyes and kissed the human boy again. Their bare chests met and rubbed against each other, and the disguised Sylvanas felt Mikal's own manhood push into Anderos' thigh. Then suddenly, a flash of other memories tore through Anderos' mind and shattered the moment. The stash of stolen documents. The Undercity. The ruthless, smiling face of the Dark Lady. He would drag Mikal down to ruin with him if this continued. He would destroy a young man whose only crime was to love Anderos. The night elf pulled away forcefully from the embrace and gently pulled Mikal's hand away from his member. "We can't. It wouldn't... work," Anderos panted. "I... yeah," Mikal said with a nod. "It was just I... I really like you. But I guess it just doesn't work out, huh? Night elf and human, and both of us guys and all that." Anderos did not respond. A thin voice inside him was screaming that the human did not matter, that he was less than chaff on the window. Anderos squished that voice, and turned to the door. "I'm sorry. I have to go. You've been a good friend, Mikal. A better one than I deserved. I hope you find your place in the world somehow." And then he was gone down the corridor, running towards his room to hide the unwelcome tears that welled up in his eyes. *** Anderos passed through the great front gate of Stormwind with the guards giving him a cheerful greeting and wave. The night elf lad smiled at them, but it was a cold, humorless smile. As the walls of the Alliance capital vanished behind him, the disguised elf felt as if he had once again abandoned all hope and surrendered wholly into undeath. It had been a foolish idea to go himself, Anderos chided. He should have sent loyal operatives, as it should be. This was much too dangerous, this sudden rush of vitality that the suits offered. A trap made from pleasure and softness. "You really were just gonna leave, then," said a voice behind him. Anderos spun around, expecting an attack. Instead he saw Sylessa, her long red hair styled in a ponytail and dressed in her apprentice robes jogging up after him. "I was just..." Anderos began, but she interrupted him. "I know what you were doing, ranger-general." Anderos froze as if he had turned to stone. "What did you say?" The urges of Sylvanas, the Dark Lady, told him that he should slay Sylessa now, before the witch had a chance to retaliate. But instead he waited. "Oh I know who you are," Sylessa said impatiently. "I had some suspicions from the start when you botched all those questions about healing magic, but I had no idea who you were or why you would pretend to be a kaldorei boy. Then when you suddenly became 'ill' just after all those top-secret plans were stolen I became suspicions." "You spied on me! Somehow!" Anderos gasped. "You protected your door well enough, but I'm a novice priest, Banshee Queen. I just levitated up and snuck a peek through your window while you were resting. I was terrified by what I saw, and I thought you were here to slaughter us all." Anderos studied the high elf girl as she looked down at her shoes. "My parents respected you greatly, when you were ranger-general. You helped my family escape from the Scourge invasion by defying Arthas and drawing his main force away. And for that I am thankful. But I still fear what you have become." "Sylessa, I promise you I had no intention of harming anyone. I didn't even kill that fool guard who cut open my leg," Anderos said, and was astonished to realize he was being honest. "That's why I'm here. When I saw you emerge from your 'illness' rather than vanish, and then actually apologize to Mikal, I knew there was something deeper here. Then I remembered the guard and realized if you'd been... well.. what you normally are, then many would be dead by now, and you wouldn't have given one thought about one human priest's feelings." Anderos nodded. The instincts of the Banshee Queen were silenced for now. "You really, honestly enjoyed your life with us. You felt what it was like to be alive again, didn't you? To have friends, and to see the world through new eyes?" Anderos nodded again. "So why are you leaving now? Like this?" Sylessa asked, her green eyes boring into him. "Because... because it is what I am, Sylessa. I am the Banshee Queen. The Dark Lady. I cannot be killed, bargained with or diverted. I have no mercy. I am the leader of the Forsaken, their guide in the darkness. I had a mission to your city, and I completed it. Now it is time to take my leave." "Without saying goodbye? You're just going to sneak off, slip that... thing.. off and become Sylvanas Windrunner again, and never look back?" "Yes. That is how it must be," Anderos said firmly. "Didn't it occur to you that maybe this little exercise was proof you could be more? That it wasn't just the fact you were undead that was shutting you off from the world, but the fact that you isolated yourself? That your self-created Banshee Queen persona was not just a shield but a prison? You could come back to the Alliance, my lady. You could help our people reunite." Anderos sighed, and felt a sting in his chest. Was that regret? Desire to accept the high elf girl's words? "It cannot be. I performed my mission and now I'm leaving. Are you going to try and stop me, Sylessa?" "No. I am going to give you an alternative," said the redheaded girl. "Alternative? To what?" Anderos asked flabbergasted. "Instead of returning to the Undercity and shedding that skin to reassume your mirthless, cold personality, you can go somewhere else. Goldshire, perhaps. Or Westfall. Or Stranglethorn. You could travel around, see the world through living eyes." Anderos almost burst out laughing. "And abandon my mission? Abandon my people? You're insane." "Not permanently. Just for a bit. Just so you can truly experience life again. Then when you return you will be changed, because you will remember what it was like." "Just abandon my throne and my mission like that to wander the world as some night elf waif?" "I could go with you," Sylessa said. Anderos felt his heart skip, if that truly was a real heartbeat he now had. "You... could?" "I can resume my priest training anytime, my lady. I think it would be a more important mission to help someone in such dire need. Don't you?" Anderos blinked. No, this was too confusing. He was actually considering this. What madness had come over him? But then, the thought of traveling new lands in this simple, honest form, with Sylessa at his side... then his features darkened. "It would raise too many questions. They would suspect us if both left the training program at the same time to travel the lands." Suddenly Anderos' mind touched upon something he had almost forgotten. The satchel slung across his back didn't just hold the Alliance plans he had stolen. "Un... unless..." Sylessa blinked in surprise. She had clearly not thought her offer to join Anderos through, and seemed stunned that he was now seriously considering it. "Unless what?" "I have spares. Two spares, in case this disguise became irreparably damaged. I could give you one," the night elf said, constantly kicking himself for revealing this. "And you the other?" Sylessa said thoughtfully. "I would... yes. I would do it." "Then I hope you don't mind if I claim the other spare?" said a voice from the bushes to the side of the road. Anderos and Sylessa both spun around to see Mikal emerge from behind a rugged oak tree, grinning. "You heard everything?" Sylessa said with a groan. "Wonderful," Anderos mumbled, once again wondering if killing these two wouldn't be the easiest solution. "Do you two really think I'm stupid? I wouldn't have noticed one of you sneaking off in the middle of the last day before graduation, but both? And yes, I did hear it all. I'm not going to let you two go off on adventures without me, dammit. Not like I enjoyed priest training a lot anyway." Anderos stared between Sylessa and Mikal. It was as if the disguised Banshee Queen could barely believe this was happening. The two of them were actually trusting him -not- to attack them, despite knowing full well who Anderos truly was. In some way that faith was what broke down the final barrier in Anderos' mind. The voice of the spiteful, coldly logical Sylvanas faltered and fell silent, and Anderos unslung the satchel from his back. "If you two fools are really sure about this, then... alright. I will take the risk." Sylessa smiled happily and Mikal grinned. "Alright then! Let's see those spares you talked about and we can get back to being the most dangerous trio on Azeroth!" Anderos opened the satchel and showed them. Sylessa and Mikal gasped in unison. *** The guard at the Lakeshire bridge squinted at the approaching figures. The sun was high in the sky and the guardsman had been on duty for a long time. He wished he was back at the pub in the shade, enjoying a cold brew. But duty came first. "Who goes there?" he said, raising his shield. The three figures came closer and the guard blinked in surprise. Leading the group was a tall, bare-chested night elf lad with handsome features and a carefree expression. To one side walked a night elf female with long, deep-blue hair dressed in the skimpy two-piece outfit favored by kaldorei huntresses. She had claw-like blue markings on her beautiful face and a confident stance. On the man's other side walked a second night elf female, this one with pale blue skin and almost pure white hair. She was dressed only in a black dress which clung to her curves and featured long slits around the legs, a bare back and a cutout on the belly. All three kaldorei walked barefoot on the dusty road, their skin covered in a sheen of sweat. "I am Anderos Swiftclaw," said the male. "Mirala Swiftclaw," said the white-haired girl. "Sindala Swiftclaw," said the blue-haired night elf woman. "We need some rest. We have traveled far from Elwynn," said Anderos to the surprised guard. "Oh well, here you go. Welcome to Lakeshire. The inn is just across the bridge and to your left. Enjoy your stay." The night elves bowed gracefully and the two women laughed melodiously as they passed the guard, walking over the bridge. When the guardsman was out of earshot, Mirala leaned over to her companions. "I still don't know why I couldn't take Anderos." "Because he's mine," Anderos said with a hint of amusement. "Besides, you said you wanted to travel incognito." "Look at it as very hands-on training," whispered Sindala from the other side. "Well, at least the dress is nice," Mirala admitted. "How much did you say you paid for it?" Anderos shrugged. "Why is that important?" "And did you mean to give it to me or her?" Mirala insisted. "Sssch. There's another guard!" Anderos hissed, pointing at a figure barely visible on the other side of the huge bridge. "Hey. Answer me!" Mirala yelped as she followed the other two night elves, both of whom were giggling uncontrollably. The three turned towards the Lakeshire inn for some much-needed rest and a night that would involve very little sleep. End.