Chapter 2: A Crumb of Kindness
He ran until his lungs burned and his legs trembled with a deep, muscular exhaustion. The sounds of pursuit had long faded, replaced by the chirping of desert crickets and the lonely sigh of the wind. The twin suns of Azeroth hung low, casting long, distorted shadows from the strange, towering mesas.
Kaelen stumbled to a halt near a dry riverbed, his sides heaving. A thirst more intense than any he had ever known clawed at his throat. He lowered his head to the cracked mud, but there was no water.
A soft, lowing sound made him flinch and stagger back. Standing a short distance away was a creature that looked like a shaggy, overgrown bull with a placid, stupid face. A kodo beast. It regarded him with large, liquid eyes, chewing slowly on a mouthful of dry grass. It showed no fear. No aggression.
Hesitantly, Kaelen took a step closer. The kodo simply blinked and continued chewing. It was the first thing in this nightmare that hadn’t tried to kill him. A wave of desperate, pathetic gratitude washed over him. He stood there for a long time, just watching it, the simple, peaceful act of chewing a calming rhythm in the twilight.
The kodo eventually ambled away, disappearing into the gathering gloom. As it left, the loneliness descended again, heavier than before. The brief companionship only highlighted his utter isolation.
A new sound reached his ears—not war cries, but the distant, cheerful crackle of a campfire. And voices. Human voices.
Hope, treacherous and fragile, flickered again. Humans! Maybe… maybe they would see him. Maybe they would understand.
He moved toward the sound, careful to stay in the shadows. He crested a small rise and looked down into a shallow basin. A campfire burned brightly. Two figures in polished armor sat around it—a man and a woman. A Human Paladin and a Night Elf Hunter. Alliance. Their faces, illuminated by the fire, looked tired but calm. They were talking, laughing softly. The woman was roasting a piece of meat on a spit. The smell made Kaelen’s stomach clench with a hunger that was both human and animal.
He took another step forward, a rock dislodging under his hoof.
The reaction was instantaneous. The laughter died. The hunter’s head snapped up, her eyes, glowing faintly in the dark, narrowing. Her hand went to the bow lying beside her.
The paladin was on his feet in a second, his face hardening as his gaze found Kaelen’s massive form silhouetted against the darkening sky. He didn’t see a lost boy. He saw a monster lurking at the edge of their camp.
“By the Light, a centaur!” the paladin boomed, drawing a massive, glowing sword. “Scout? Or just a fool looking for trouble?”
“Looks alone to me,” the hunter said, nocking an arrow with practiced ease. “Drive it off.”
The paladin took a step forward, his sword pointing at Kaelen. “You heard her, beast! Be gone, before I purify you with the Light!”
Kaelen stood frozen, his hope shattering into a thousand pieces. The warmth of the fire, the sound of human voices—it was all a taunt. It was a scene from a life he could never return to. He backed away, step by step, as the hunter raised her bow.
He didn’t wait for the arrow. He turned and fled once more, back into the welcoming darkness, where the only thing that didn’t want him dead was the indifferent, starry sky.