• Being an orphan has its advantages;
    no expectations to live up to your parents’ greatness, the pity and generosity of onlookers, distraught by your unfortunate position. And you’re guaranteed a job in the cities.
    The orphans of Azeroth are spoiled.
    Now, I’ll let you in on a little secret; I’m not actually an orphan. How I came to be known as such is quite the story in itself.

    It all started with the war.
    My home was beautiful. The night was endless, eternal, and the forests were just as so. Through lifetimes of shadows, the trees took on an azure hue to their leaves and bark; an unnatural, but breathtaking sight.
    It was truly a magical place.
    Our clan took refuge in the forests of Teldrassil, just outside the main elfin city of Darnassus. We were the Oukami Clan; fierce, proud, loyal people. Descendants of the ferocious Worgen themselves, we were feared and respected. Like the wolfish creatures we could shift our bodies to, our powers were drawn from the moonlight.
    The endless nights of Teldrassil fueled us with strength unimaginable.
    We truly believed we could last forever.
    And now, where I come in: I was the clan’s sole princess.
    Princess Roxas Winora Oukami.
    I was the pride of the clan. My silver hair resembled that of Ashenvalle’s finest wolves, and my eyes were the same haunting yellow.
    I was always curious and eager to learn. I was often told I was a bit of a trouble maker as well.
    My parents were the proud leaders of this clan. King Faolan and his Queen, Tala, led our people until the very end.
    Our people in whole are known as the Alliance. The Night Elves, Humans, Draenie, Dwarves, and Gnomes all banded together centuries ago in a strong and unshakable pact.
    On the other side of the world, another faction threatened our existence.
    The Horde.
    A nasty group of Orcs, Trolls, Tauren, Undead, and Blood Elves waged confrontation with us on a regular basis.
    Thus was the fall of the Oukami Clan…
    They were never supposed to reach Darnassus. With our natural defense, it was assumed impossible. Teldrassil is a small island hidden in itself. Every last inch of our borders were towered by trees and mountains.
    One could say we are a domed city.
    Then one day, our hopes, and our walls, were shattered.
    A crack had formed at the base of the western wall, which deteriorated the mountain over time. A small boat carrying a handful of Horde spies floated precariously along the shaky waters until, out of seemingly nowhere, our island appeared in the distance.
    With the knowledge of this Elvin refuge, and damaged defenses, the Horde returned home with a twisted plot.
    A week later, we were attacked.
    Orcs and Tauren tore through our beautiful gardens and axed our trees. The Undead burned our homes and slaughtered our animals. Trolls poisoned our rivers. Blood Elves took our soldiers in as prisoners, the others, they murdered.
    We were in a flustered panic from this surprise and unfathomable attack.
    My father called for his guards, but they lay on deaf ears in a puddle of their own blood elsewhere. My mother called for her archers, but they too were departed.
    My family watched helplessly as our people fell to their deaths.
    And soon, we would be targeted as well.
    Taking my hand as well as my mothers, King Faolan raced us through a secret hall and into the outside. Just behind our house was a cave of which I had never known existed. My slippers caught on my gown as my childish legs struggled to keep up with the pace of my father’s.
    The dark cave winded every which way until a faint light greeted us at the end; as much light as Teldrassil ever offered.
    I was promptly shoved onto a large, bristled saber. My tutor and life-long companion, Sable, was already astride the animal.
    And without a final parting word to my mother and father, I was speeding through the blue forests of Teldrassil, clinging to Sable’s sleeves.
    I never saw my parents again.

    The next day, I awoke on the back of the large cat. Stiff and cold, I squinted into the forests around me. I was struck with cold panic at the sight.
    The trees were green.
    All around me was green. The ground, the trees, the mountains; all a lush emerald.
    How strange.
    Noticing my discomfort, Sable allowed us a moment’s respite.
    “These are the forests of Elwynn, Princess.” She taught, handing me a slice of bread for snack. “Unlike Teldrassil, the sun touches every inch of this land, thus giving the forestry its coloring.”
    It was true. My eyes ached from the unusual amount of sun, even in the shade. I pulled the sleeves of my robe as far over my arms as I could. My pale elfin skin would burn from too much exposure.
    I was not meant for this place.
    My yearning for home and alien surroundings left my eyes then burning with tears. Promptly patting my cheeks with her sleeve, Sable offered me another slice from her knife.
    The bread tasted salty from my tears and bitter with my unhappiness, but my hungry stomach gratefully took the offering.
    Moments later, I was astride the saber once more, my legs still aching from our last ride. A short ride ahead of us laid the city of Stormwind. The walls were stoned and high, an excellent defenses system. Human guards lined the gates in their patrol, swords swinging from their belts.
    We had come so far from Teldrassil. The miles seemed nearly infinite, but it had only taken us a full day’s ride.
    Passing nearly ever sort of environment, I learned a great deal of our lands that I was only taught in books. It captivated me how one side of an ocean could be a snowy valley, the other a swampy wasteland. At the end of the swamps laid a small town where boats docked in routine.
    After offering a wage to the dock master, we and the enormous cat continued our travels a ways on boat. My imagination and wonder was indulged with such a travel, but my stomach was unaccustomed to such perpetual rocking.
    Back to Elwynn Forest, our mount approached the guards. With wary eyes, they allowed us through. Apparently our kind was unusual in their city, but not unheard of.
    The humans crowded the city with their noise and bustling. I clung shyly to Sable. Such unordered chaos was never seen in Darnassus, we were a quiet and mannered race.
    As my fears had subsided, we reached our supposed destination. A large church overran most of this particular district. It was a lot quieter to my satisfaction, and I allowed myself to enjoy the sights of the city. The hustle and bustle of the Trade District could still be heard, echoing in the distance, making this particular part of town somewhat a haven.
    Sable first dismounted, and then reached for me. I took a moment to stretch my legs. A cheery fountain stood tall in the middle of the district, crystalline waters cascaded into a pool bellow. I ran my small finger through the water, welcoming its cool feel on my burnt skin. All the while, I never let Sable out of my sights. She tied the temperamental saber to a tree and approached a building no more than ten feet from my location. An elderly woman sat on the building’s steps alone, seeming to be simply enjoying the quiet town as I was.
    As Sable approached her, she scrunched her wrinkled face and scowled in annoyance. She clearly did not wish to be bothered. The old woman listened to Sable, however. She seemed to be taking in every word. The conversation seemed to draw on forever, and with every minute, the human woman’s face softened. Soon, she seemed almost distraught. I hid shyly behind the fountain as her gaze drifted to my direction.
    Sable turned and gestured for me to approach. Obediently, I scurried from the fountain to her side. Wrapping a protective arm around my shoulder, Sable introduced me. The woman’s name was Matron Nightingale, the head of Stormwind Orphanage.
    With a sickening twist in my stomach, I realized what was about to happen to me.
    I was to be abandoned in this alien city.
    “You’re a good girl; I know you’ll take care of yourself. You were meant to live for a reason, Princess.” Those were Sable’s last words as she hugged me tight.
    Inside I felt sick, lost, afraid, a little angry, and exhausted. But I was an Oukami. My people were never weak.
    Sable mounted her cat and gave the reigns a tug.
    She never looked back.
    A moment later, another arm was around my shoulder. Matron Nightingale gave me a wrinkled smile and pulled me towards the building where a group of curious, dirty-faced children peeked out.
    “Come, Dear,” She cooed in her old voice, “It’s time to go home.”