The next morning, Tiene woke to find the guild grounds unnaturally hushed.

She dragged herself out of bed. Her limbs were aching and stiff. The previous day had been spent employing her parkour and stealthing skills to pass, unseen, through Capital City to locate her friends.  

It had been gruelling, and not only physically. The sights she'd seen were literally stomach-churning. She'd no doubt those images would forever haunt her.

And then it became personal.

Her friends were now irrevocably changed.

Today, she planned to go find them again. She just couldn't do it last night. She was too exhausted then to even manage to cross the hall separating her room from Sauren's; Brett had carried her there. He'd taken a cloth and cleaned her hands and face before covering her with a throw. She remembered hearing the click of the door after he'd left. Then...

Oblivion.

Now, she needed to peel herself out of the 'killer outfit' she was still wearing. She stumbled her way into the washroom.

With hardly any staff around, there was no one to fill a hot tub for her, so she had to brave the bowl and pitcher, which only contained cold water. The scraps of material were removed, and she promptly threw them aside, making a mental note to burn them.

She splashed her face with cold water. A sharp intake of breath. Belore! That was cold.

Wincing a little each time the cold water touched a warm part of her body, she finished washing herself, removing every last smudge and trace of blood.

Then she dressed in simple travelling attire. Checking she had all she needed for the journey home, she packed a bag - not forgetting her armour and some extra blades - and was ready to go.

The road to Quel'thalas would be arduous. Emotionally more than anything. She hadn't decided if she'd tell her family the entire, sorry truth, or if she'd just leave if where the letter to Inaris ended. She'd work on that when her journey home began.

She would need to acquire transportation for most of the way, as the guild's mages were currently otherwise engaged. She quietly acknowledged the insurmountable amount of work they and others would now have to pencil into their schedules.

Perhaps she'd enjoy a ride on a gryphon again? It had been a very long time since she'd soared through the skies.

Firstly, however - as her stomach rumbled -breakfast.

As she closed the door behind her, her eyes drifted across the hall to Sauren's door.

Indescribable pain and loss engulfed her. Even though through his death she'd gained her freedom, she didn't feel any jubilation from the fact.

Before she realised it, her hand rested on the door panel. The sound of her heart beating reached her ears. It was loud, rapid. Wounded. She reached for the handle.

"Don't do that to yourself, Tiene."

Brett's voice made her jump. She lowered her hand. "I - I just wanted to see..."

"There's nothing to see, lass. The room has been cleaned. Come on."

With her head hung low, she turned and accepted Brett's embrace. "Let's get you some breakfast," he said, trying to sound normal.

She nodded, her head brushing against his armour.

Nevertheless, it would take her time to let this go. To accept it for what it was. With her heart still thundering, she turned and descended the stairs with Brett just behind her.

Once in the corridor which led to the dining hall, she noticed something. There were no more horrible sounds of the dead and dying rising from the city. All seemed quieter, almost peaceful. A heavy, sorrowful aftermath.

The only sounds now belonged to trundling carts pulled by horses, and the solemn voices of those who had come to help clear the mess from the massacre. Black smoke billowed and roiled along the skyline from the many pyres in and around the city - the cremating of corpses, which no doubt would last for days.

She vaguely recalled Brett confirming that the scourge appeared to have moved on; north, no doubt. This supposition worried Tiene, but he assured her that a number of the Crimson Blades, along with the additional guilds and soldiers from far and wide, had moved out to help fight the army of undead.

The number of guild personnel within the complex could therefore be limited. The recruits' training would also need to be rescheduled. But that could wait.

The dining hall doors were closed - odd for this time of day. But after what had happened, Tiene guessed nothing would be normal for a long, long time to come.

With a grunt, she pushed open the door.

An amplitude of applause erupted, making her stagger backwards. Stunned by the number of people inside, Tiene seemed lost as to what she should do.

Myriad guilds and their representatives stood in the hall, cheering and clapping. Confusion reigned, for she had not earned such gratuity. Brett moved ahead and navigated her to the top table.

Everyone gradually quietened and settled into their seats at the other tables. Tiene noticed the abundance of food - the cooks had been busy! Life goes on.

Brett remained standing beside her. He cleared his throat, and all eyes rested upon him.

"I'm not good at speeches, so you'll all be relieved to hear I don't plan on being up here for long."

A ripple of laughter spread around the hall.

Taking another deep breath, the veteran rogue began his homily. "Today, we wake to find our beloved Capital City in ruins. The loss of innocent life has been beyond traumatic, and it fills us all with a deep and profound sorrow. Now is the time for grieving, and a time for healing."

He paused and glanced at Tiene before continuing. "Some of the unfortunate souls who've been - transformed, shall we say - are still good, decent people. They've not followed the path of the scourge, nor do they possess an evil bone in their bodies, so, I for one, will be aiding those individuals as best I can."

He smiled at Tiene. She drew a shuddering breath. He'd promised to ensure her three friends would be safe at all costs. He was as good as his word.

Eventually, she'd seek them out, but for now, she needed to focus on home and her family.

The crowd listened as Brett continued. "Prince Arthas and the Scourge have moved north. They are multiplying by the hour, with their necromancers raising new armies for the mad prince.

"Not only do our people engage in battle with this foe as I speak, but other soldiers have also rallied to our call; The Alliance of Lordaeron's paladins and warriors, the Night Elves of Kalimdor with their hunters, druids and mages, as well as an impressive collection of rogues from both sides of the water.

"We're fortunate too, that priests and shamans also aid us in this fight. They will be invaluable to our cause as they'll help us rise and fight another day when injuries or low morale perhaps cause us to falter, to lose hope. No! Together, we will expel this plague; this abomination which has descended upon our homes, our lands and our families."

The room rippled with quiet applause, and words of encouragement and hope.

Brett took a rather long drink of water before continuing. "Sauren Nightflame is no more! He betrayed us; make no mistake- but he did, in his own inimitable way, protect the guild from the Scourge." A silence descended.

Tiene's breath hitched. With a trembling hand, she reached for a glass of water, too, silently wishing she'd just skipped breakfast and started on the journey home. Sauren's demise was still significantly raw for her, even though she'd contrived the entire plan since the night of the Gathering when he'd first... claimed her.

Brett's voice jolted her from her reverie. "A very brave and uniquely talented young woman was the one solely responsible for unseating our most recent leader..."

A tear slipped; she wiped it away.

"In so doing, she's purified The Crimson Blades... and Capital City and beyond. She inspires us all. She has made our guild honourable again, the way Sat'hemar wanted it. His son..." He looked askance at Tiene. The lass was struggling.

Whatever Brett thought of him, he had to remind himself that Sauren had been an enormous part of Tiene's life; he made her who she was - brilliant, exceptionally skilled, an observant and tactical thinker. But at the moment, she was shattered, tormented by guilt. Perhaps even suffering a broken heart? Despite his methods, Sauren had achieved some truly amazing things. Other things - not so much. But Brett now understood that Sauren had protected the guild from the Scourge, albeit at a price. That counted for something, he guessed.

Everyone was waiting for him to continue. He looked out over the sea of faces and took a deep breath. "Sauren tried to emulate his father; we all just... couldn't see past Sat'hemar's leadership.

Tiene stared at the plate in front of her as another round of applause echoed around the hall.

This was unbearable; she wished she could vanish.

"I, therefore, propose," Brett said with great aplomb, "that the new leader of the Crimson Blades be none other than Tiene Firefury."

Tiene's head snapped up. Disbelief and confusion crossed her delicate features. As did absolute dread.

The whole room was on its feet, glasses in hand. People were "Aye-ing", cheering, clapping and looking at her, expectantly.

Rooted, she remained seated, nervously looking up at Brett. What do you think you're doing? she mouthed.

He simply stood and applauded her with everyone else. Chanting began - they were calling her name!. Demanding she stand and make a speech.

Tiene loathed public speaking, and right now, she felt even less like giving a speech than ever she had. She just wanted the ground to open and swallow her.

Brett gently tugged her elbow, coaxing her up. Trembling, she rose, with his aid.

The room began to quieten.

Tiene looked timidly out over the sea of faces -some of which she recognised. One... a very particular one, was not there.

Thil'las and Emmek stood to her left, offering encouraging nods and applause.

She took another gulp of water, then stared out over the people once more. "I -I don't know what to say," she stammered.

The crowd fell silent. A few nods of compassion and understanding told her they were all listening. She had a rapt audience. And for the first time in many years, she felt utterly exposed and vulnerable. Somehow, she found her voice. "Thank you, Brett, and...indeed thank you... to all of you, for being so... generous. But- quite frankly - your adulation is unwarranted. Misplaced."

The sea of faces in front of her bore looks of surprise, disbelief, and confusion. Low murmuring was soon hushed as she spoke again. "I graciously decline the mantle of leadership of the Crimson Blades. I am unworthy."

A roar of protest arose. "However..." she pressed on, more quickly and more strongly. "I agree that new leadership should be a priority, and unanimously agreed upon."

She took another drink. Her voice trembled but still carried above the expectant crowd. "This guild was founded by a great man, Sa'themar Nightflame. A man I knew not, but whose skills, beliefs, and integrity have inspired many. He was a man who demonstrated fairness, honesty and honour. My parents, as many of you know, were but two renowned individuals who helped build this guild under Sat'hemar's guidance, and together with many loyal rogues, they made it one of the greatest, most reputable organisations within the profession."

Her words were met with respectful applause. The crowd soon quietened again, eager to hear what she would say next.

Standing straight and as confidently as she could, she continued, "Therefore, it should be one who also has shown equal dedication, honour, decency and a deep respect for his fellow rogues with the enviable ability to keep us glued together when it would be easier to fall apart. I propose - No! I insist that the new leader of the Crimson Blades... is Brett Hornsby."

Everyone was upstanding. Now they were enthusiastically chanting Brett's name. It was indeed a unanimous vote. Tiene's proposal was readily accepted.

Brett, with his eyes moist, turned to face her. He seemed lost for words, but none were required. Tiene hugged him.

Out of the blue, a searing pain coursed through her body and with a scream, she collapsed over the table, clutching her heart.

Everyone gasped and surged forward, some looking around the hall, suspecting a renegade elite had thrown a dagger, but nothing untoward was evident.

A cry from the centre of the room erupted, and three more people collapsed, holding their bellies and heads as if something was attacking them.

More just outside the dining hall also fell.

Brett looked at Belaen, who'd pushed his way through to the main table. The elven leader looked slightly pasty himself.

"What is going on, Brett?" he boomed over the panicked shouts and roars.

"I –I don't know!" Bret answered, clearly flustered. "There are no marks on her, no blades, darts or anything to indicate..."

A loud pop at the far side of the dining hall made heads turn. Then another, and another. Mages appeared out of portals from behind the rogue assembly.

One of the magi was none other than Alaen, the reliable messenger for the rogue network. He was also of elven heritage and looked considerably unhealthy.

"It is destroyed!" he gasped, his eyes bearing horrors which others could not see.

"What? What are you talking about?" Belaen paled; he looked ready to collapse.

The mage looked around and saw the people who had dropped to the floor. "Elves! High elves. We can feel it!"

"What? Tell us, man! What are you on about!" Brett growled, concerned.

"The Sunwell," he said. "The Magister Dar'khan... something went wrong when he tried to absorb its power. It ...exploded!"

Tiene's heart clenched. There was the missing piece!!

But that was not her priority. Her family was! She urgently needed to be with her loved ones. She reached toward Alaen, still clutching her heart. "I have to get home," she said. "Please, take me home." He took her hand, helping her to stand.

Another elven mage then approached. He looked drawn, tired, listless as he stared at the rogues assembled. "Dar'Khan has betrayed us! High elves everywhere will sense and feel the loss of the Snuwell. Quel'thalas has fallen."