Daelin and I had taken a room in the Brill Inn outside Undercity. Though I felt a bit hostile towards the Forsaken, their hospitality was still some what acceptable. Tirisfall Glades was peacefull none the less and I often came to visit the Banshee Queen in the city.

Daelin sat up in his bed, I sensed the disturbance. "He is here," Daelin looked about the room. "Get up, put on your armor." I complied and Daelin stepped outside the door. I listened and crept quietly behind him.

When Daelin was about half way down the stairs, a fire ball hit him in the chest and he was slammed against the wall. I rushed down to his body. He gripped his chest, obviously in pain.

I looked up. Darin stood smiling, his arms lit with his Soulfire, and a look of satisfaction was smeared upon his angular face.

"You're own brother," I sneered at him.

"He has been too involved." Darin shrugged and smiled wider.

Daelin's breathing was labored. "Take my soul," he managed to cough. "It will make you stronger."

"But how will I give it back?" I thought back to when Darin drew the soul from an orc's body in Orgrimmar when I met him in the future. I was not about to take Daelin's.

Daelin held a hand to his chest, a small crystaline object came into his hand and he lifted it to me. I took the curious thing and stared at it. Daelin's body went limp.

"I know more than you do, Zurilod. You are finished," Darin laughed. I pressed the small shard to my chest. My Soulfire grew stronger, my glowing blue eyes brightened, and I felt an emmense energy take hold of me. Darin drew a long sword and I summoned my dual blades.

He leapt at me with surprising speed and he went for my neck. I dodged his attack and stabbed him in the chest. Success! He looked down at the blade protruding from his chest and yanked it out. He grabbed me by the neck. I scrammbled at his forearm and dropped my swords.

"Your struggling is futile," Darin laughed.