One by one, they had left.

 

First, Rose, driven by her madness to prevent the onset of the Curse of the Worgen. Second, Tolkar, on his pilgrimage to understand the secrets of Azeroth and subsequently called to fulfill his duty to the Horde. Third, Vel’rosh, trying to find his place in the world after becoming both figuratively and literally a changed man. Fourth, Meechi, realizing her home was with her vagabond friends after suffering inexplicable betrayal from her former captain. And finally, Halvor, whose vehement mistrust of the undead could be contained no longer.

 

Mori sat on a rock beside the riverbank, staring nervously at the death knight. He was all that remained of her traveling companions, and she dreaded the thought that it was only a matter of time before he had to go his separate way, too. The young blood elf had grown rather fond of him; she had realized after Sahtra’s near-death at the hands of the mogu that she was not yet ready to say goodbye.

 

“You look troubled, Mori,” the death knight caught her gaze, “is something wrong?”

 

Mori clamped her mouth shut, realizing her jaw had dropped open while she had been running unpleasant farewell scenarios through her head. Swallowing a growing lump in her throat, she replied, “Are…are you going to leave, too?” She hid her face behind her folded legs, waiting for his answer.

 

“Me?” Sahtra pointed to himself with a chuckle, “I’m not going anywhere.”

 

Mori lifted her head and blinked. “Y-You’re not?”

 

The death knight walked over to the young necromancer and stood firmly. “Remember why you started this journey, little one, and never lose sight of your dreams. You still have much to learn before you become a powerful necromancer, do you not?”

 

“Yeah,” Mori nodded, “but then why are you still—”

 

“I also have reasons for continuing my journey,” Sahtra replied, “and I will see them through no matter who I choose to travel with or without. Others will come and go, but we,” he placed a hand warmly on her back, “we press on.”

 

The young blood elf grinned, blinking back tears of relief. Sahtra smiled once more before donning his dark helm. He held out his gloved left hand to Mori.

 

“Are you ready to continue, my child?”

 

Mori placed her small hand in his and felt its icy but gentle grasp. She looked up at his helm, the dark metal fashioned in the shape of a horned skull that hid all of Sahtra’s visage save for his eyes. The single piece of armor used to terrify the young blood elf, but over time, she had grown accustomed to its appearance and cherished the frightening voice that came from behind. The death knight’s eyes now glowed softly, and she smiled happily as she climbed down from the rock and stood next to him.

 

“Yes, I am ready.”

 

Their adventure was not over yet.