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An Inner Turmoil
((I purposely skipped the moot because I was unsure of some of the events since I had not yet experienced them. I had guessed correctly at the time but I have now experienced the events themselves. Alfin and I had discussed new direction, to breathe new life into both characters. As with many, we will be using these events to begin to do some rebuilding of the characters. More to come in coming days ...))

Saerrina stood and watched, as instructed, as the horde forces joined the alliance in the battle toward a common goal. A rumbling behind her should have been warning but she was unceremoniously shoved away from her vantage point. She recovered herself and stepped down the hill a bit, looking over onto the field of battle once more. She could only stand in horror as the very apothecaries she had helped, thinking they were seeking a cure, wrought devastation on the forces below. Horde, alliance, and Scourge alike fell beneath this “new plague” as the Forsaken reveled in their triumph.

Frozen to the spot, Saerrina continued to watch as Alexstrasza and her dragonflight cleansed the area. In a fog, she wandered down to the majestic dragons, her steps faltering and stumbling along the path. She heard the words and at some level absorbed the instructions given her but could not seem to rid herself of the numbing guilt that was settling deep within her spirit. A gifted healer, the reason for her choosing at such a young age to begin her training, yet now she had helped wreak such total devastation! She simply could not grasp how this had come to be.

As if she were some goblin-crafted automaton, Saerrina followed instructions as they were given. Warsong Hold, Orgrimmar, even throughout the entire battle for the Undercity. She heard the words spoken, performed her duties as assigned, but nothing more. She simply could not get past her part in the deaths of so many good men and women. As she returned to Northrend, as instructed yet again, numbness settled over her heart and mind. The shock had wrought physical changes as well; she ignored these and over the ensuing days became more and more unkempt, hair shocked white and whacked off in her grief, walking about in a deep fog.

In some of her more lucid moments, little though they were, she would wonder where her friends had been during these events. And one in particular, why he had not been there to stop her from doing such foolish things? He always had before. In the jumble of her confused thoughts, an anger over what she perceived his absence and failure began to develop. As angry with him as she was with herself, the emotions seethed within her, just waiting to erupt at the slightest provocation.

Saerrina's only solace, her salvation from insanity, seemed to be the methodical and almost mindless application of her healing skills to the injured. Her duties set aside temporarily, she sought the injured to provide whatever assistance she could.
Watching from the ranks of the reserve force, Alfin couldn't believe what he was seeing, right at the moment of their success, betrayal, not by the Alliance scum but by members of the Horde. Standing there, he doesn’t know what to do, he can’t think, can’t move, never before has this happened to him. Then the dragons where there, swooping out of the sky, they are beautiful, powerful and deadly, they burn it all, friend and foe alike, the disease can’t be allowed to persist. Watching, Alfin grasps the necessity but he’s still filled with an all consuming rage, his hands ball up into fists that will not unclench… he mechanically reports and receives his orders… time passes and the next time that he comes to himself, he’s standing at the gates to Undercity. Crystal clarity, he remembers the plan, he considers what must happen, and he remembers that this time he’s not being held in reserve, this time he fights!

*time passes*

Reaching over his shoulder, Alfin grasps the handle of his huge two handed axe, pulling an Adamantite Sharpening stone from his pack, he begins to stroke it along the edge of his axe. A person taking a casual look at him might say that he was meditating as he prepared for the fight; a truly observant person would see something much different, the intensity of his eyes, the manic sharpening of the axe, his lips moving as he talked with himself… Finally! The order to attack is given, upon hearing it, Alfin drops his sharpening stone and sprints, sliding to a stop in front of a startled undead fighter, Alfin swings the huge axe and fighter’s head sails through the air… He moves to the next enemy, attacks, kills… mechanically he continues, falling into an efficient rhythm… *judge, swing, strike, consecrate, hammer of wrath… * …single minded in his ferocity, his world narrows to red fringed tunnel of anger and vengeance.

Alfin is on his knees, he thinks but the battle only just started, his armor is a mess, covered in gore and blood, not all of it the enemies’. Then with clarity the image of their victory flashes into his mind, he realizes that it has been some time since the combat began. He feels the first protests of his battered body, the first that he actually is aware of. The pain comes flooding in, becoming almost unbearable, and he realizes that he’s in trouble. Darkness threatens to take him and random thoughts flitter across his fading consciousness… “what an idiot, forgot to heal yourself, no mana, what’cha gonna do now, die? *manic chuckle*” …*darkness*… “My Saerrina where are you when I need you most?” …*darkness*… “I’m sorry I can’t come to you, my Saerrina” …*blackness*

*grey?, no it’s light, his eyes open, confusion fills his mind* Hours maybe days later Alfin awakes, confused, finding himself in a bed, bandaged and alive, he struggles to make sense of what has happened. He wonders where he is, how he got there, and he wonders why his Saerrina has not come to heal him…
For days, she had wandered through the rows of injured, dead, and dying looking for one face. She alternately condemned herself for her own actions and him for his seeming absence and lack of action. At first, her anger built toward him with each face she looked into that was not his. After tending what seemed hundreds, her thoughts became more panicked that he had been there and not survived the devastation.

Finally, she resigned herself to the terrible fact he must be dead. And she'd had a hand in killing him. Numbly, she worked to heal those in need, letting the horrible fact he was gone sink in. She stopped noticing the faces and only healed the wounds.

As she began to inspect one particular patient, something twinged within but she squelched it, looked away from the face she should have recognized, and set to work.
*feeling the prodding, Alfin stirs from his fitful slumber, groaning from the constant pain, he opens his eyes, he blinks several times trying to focus* Saerrina? *he attempts to look at the woman who's attending him, he notes the white hair and the generally unkempt appearance and after several tries manages to croak out* I thought you someone else, go away and let me die in peace… *he closes his eyes, a single tear dribbles down his cheek*
His words did not register through the fog enshrouding her mind. She tended his wounds and went on her way. Only to be woken by nightmares that night. And the startling, clear memory of him saying her name.

She rose hastily and returned to the spot she thought she remembered. But he was not there. She searched row upon row of makeshift beds in the field infirmary. Many thanked her, she heard none of it. Others cried for help for their pains, she heard none of it. Others … were gone. Whether through death, recovery, or stubbornness, she had no idea.

“Was it him? Or … no?” she would ask herself several times. Remorse and anger both took up residence within her. At times, she seemed convinced he was dead and she was at fault. Other times, she seemed equally convinced he was alive, had known where to find her, and deserted her yet again. In the midst of the former, crippling grief consumed her; in the midst of the latter, rising anger, unrestrained, gripped like a vice around her heart and mind.

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