Darkest Before the Dawn

Prologue

Aenatheran was never an average Blood Elf. Who ever was in such a world of chaos and neverending war?

He was a Demon Hunter. However, just like any other he was not given such a fate at birth.

Growing up Silvermoon City, he was never a very loved child by his parents. They constantly made excuses has to why they couldn't do this or that for him. They never physically abused him, but it had been no secret that they cared much more for his older sister, Danann, than him.

He was a "mistake". A problem child that really never caused problems. He hadn't been wanted, yet he was there. His parents often called him a waste of food and gold. Yet, they were never harsh enough to kick a poor child onto the streets.

His sister did a lot of emotional caring for him. She had been there when he scrapped his knee, or when he was picked on by that one kid. She hugged him when their parents flung insults and she promised he had a bright future ahead of him.

Even while she had tried to get him to forget their parents, he had a strong desire to prove himself to them. He continued to grow, trying everything in his power to make his parents see him as more than just a mistake.

It seemed nothing worked. Until he became a paladin. It caught their attention quickly. They seemed to become easier on him and even smile in his direction when he visited their home.

Soon his sister met an elf by the name of Caewald, which they both fell madly in love. He attended their wedding. And the birth of their son, Quron.

The little elf had melted his heart. Besides Quron's parents, Aenatheran had been the first to hold his nephew. He had been in complete awe, something so fragile and precious in his arms. He held his little hands and ran his thumb over his cheeks.

The older Blood Elf vowed to protect the child with his life that instance.

Everything seemed to click into place. Aenatheran became closer to the Light and thus a brighter light in his own parents' life. He spent every chance he could with Quron, caring for him when his sister was unable. He spoiled the kid as much as any cool uncle would. At some point, he had been began courting a female who had been a huntress. He was at an all time high.

Until the dreadful day of sister's death.

Aenatheran was on his way back from a trip to Dalaran in Northrend, having important business with Khadgar. As he entered the cities gate, immediately everything seemed off. There were cries of anguish and terror. Fel fire burned hot in the streets. He gripped his sword, carrying his shield against his forearm as he ran as fast as he could in the heavy plate.

Clink. Clink. Clink.

The steady sound of the metal had drowned out the cries he so desperately wished to forget. He ran until he reached his parents' home. It was engulfed, but his mother stood weeping in his father's arms safely away from it. "Aenatheran! Please, find your sister!"

He had barely heard it already on his way to do just that. And again metal against metal filled his ears, yet the noise around him grew louder. He could not remember if he ran into demons or not. As he reached his sister's house, however, his blade was covered in green blood.

He found now sign of them outside. His heart was racing and a feeling of icy dread filled him.

All your fault. All your fault. All your fault.

He had approached quickly, the heat intensifying with every step. His sword became heavy and his hands were trembling. And his entire being seemed to break as he saw her lifeless face, a Dreadlord standing above her with Caewald's limp body in his clawed hands. The paladin's shield clattered against the floor.