My Name is ?

My Name is?

Darkness. A name floated in the thick blackness and took up residence. Other names crowded closer and then scattered. A curtain closed, steel rings singing. A surgical blade.

She found herself standing at the teller's window of the Merchant's Bank in Dalaran. She wasn't exactly sure why. The teller was amused, believing the lass must be coming down from quite a bender.

Silence. Unmoving. The smile on the teller's face slowly slipped.

Things around her began to make sense. She raised her left hand and studied the armored glove. She set her right hand on the hilt of her heavy sword. She could barely see through the faceplate of her helm, but she recognized the place. Dalaran. This is Dalaran.

Dalaran when? She was confused.

There was a noise. Her sword sang as it swept out of it's scabbard.

The wide eyed teller gulped air and went completely still.

She admired the sword in her hand. Almost reluctantly, she sheathed the blade.

The teller remembered to breathe.

I know where I live. Where I lived. The two seemed both different and the same. Worlds different and the same.

"My name is Atkar." She spoke the name, and it was true.



********

Tiphaine directed Sista to keep tabs on Atkar. Help her if allowed, but watch her every move. Without her knowing, of course. After leaving the Merchant's Bank Atkar wandered through Dalaran as if making a new acquaintance. But when the strolling ended, Atkar took the portal to her Garrison. Where no one could reach her or monitor her. Where she apparently felt safe.