everything-you-mist

[everything-you-mist]

Recessional

Even from the dark sea she had banished herself to, Israva could feel it. Fel was soaked into every inch of Argus, an aching reminder behind her empty eye sockets that though she had relinquished control of herself months ago to her inner demon, the world outside still had some sway over her. It beat on her back, unseen but always felt even in the depths of this prison. And despite her wishes to be left alone, Darthalesh had kept her informed, his image reflecting on the dark, mirror surface of her mindscape ocean from time to time, just as he was now, shimmering into view in the water below her levitating form.

“We’re assaulting Antorus itself soon. It all ends in a few days at the most.”

She didn't respond. Darthalesh had tried everything to pull her out of her self-imposed exile. He had attacked and threatened Kaleala. He'd taken every foolhardy mission the Illidari was willing to give them, pushing their body to the absolute limit. He'd tried every threat and screamed at her until he was hoarse.. But nothing worked. Some distant part of her cried out silently at every slight, but the cold grip of her despair refused to allow her even to move.

The demon had been true to his word, the dreadlord had indeed wanted the Legion destroyed for what it had done to his world, his story just one of similar thousands that marched on the Burning Throne. So, despite his hundreds of threats, he hadn't betrayed the Illidari and returned to the Legion. Instead, they marched with the Illidari and the Army of the Light into hell itself.

Even as they did, Israva was unmoved. She stayed in her ocean of calm, her mind’s image of her suspended a few feet above the serene surface of black water. Only the stench of fel and the beating heat reminded her there was a real world at all.

“We’re beginning our assault, Israva.” Darthalesh said softly. “This is likely to be our end. Will you not at least fight this last battle willingly?”

“I hadn't planned to.” She croaked in response. She briefly wondered why her vocal cords would show signs of misuse here, seeing as this place and this version of herself were illusions, but the thought passed quickly, sliding off her mind like water added to her sea.

Darthalesh didn't respond right away. He studied her through his milky dreadlord eyes, pity and confusion mixing behind them. “I see. That's too bad, really. I had hoped you would make this easier.”

He waved a hand dismissively  and with a jolt, Israva found herself forced down, her sea hardening into black glass as she hit. She could hear Darthalesh walking nearby, the unmistakable sharp sounds of his hooves coming toward her, now solid in her mind’s eye. Israva stayed on the ground, but from where she curled, she could look up at him, meeting his disapproving stare.

“I think, dear girl, you've forgotten what exactly you're dealing with. I've tolerated your self-pity, self-loathing and despair for quite long enough. You are going to be conscious for this, and I will force you if necessary.” In a burst, the dreadlord exploded into dozens of bats, descending on her. Tiny claws gripped almost every inch of her body, dragging her down, deep into the black glass, toward the green core at its center, fire burning in an infinite ball. Consciousness. Facing the monster she had made herself into. She screamed as she got close and struggled with all the strength she'd forgotten she had, pushing to swim up, to return to blissful agony! But it was no use.

The horrible world around her fuzzed into spectral focus. Darthalesh was still in control but now Israva had a front seat to her own destruction. She could see the Lightforged all around her, and soldiers from every walk of life marched alongside them. Demon hunters and druids pressed on, side by side, the priests and warlocks keeping eyes forward toward their common enemy. Antorus looked impossibly large and threatening on the horizon, the blue of Azeroth’s seas filling much of the sky behind the imposing fortress.

This was it. The end of the Legion that had stolen her future, her family. She could feel her spark of defiance rekindling as she stared at the sheer green walls, and her hatred began to grow again. It was the Legion’s fault, from satyr to dreadlord.

“Ahh… now you begin to stir. Good… good.” She could feel Darthalesh releasing control as she strengthened, her glaives becoming real in her hands, the acrid smells of fel and unwashed soldier filling her nose as it became hers once more. She marched with the army through the gap the Vindicaar had made and into the depths.

Then all was chaos. Under the vigil of the Vindicaar, the army charged, war cries ringing out in unison. Large demon captains, their soldiers and a fel reaver awaited them, just a prelude to the real fights that would be ahead.

Demon after demon fell to her blades. She was a whirlwind of motion, a furious storm that screamed defiance against Sargeras himself. She could do this! She could stand with the army, destroy the Legion, return home triumphantly and--She stopped in her tracks, mid-swing. She could feel the burning tension in her gut, a white hot pain that rolled over her senses, and made time lose all meaning. Her world became silent, the sounds around her muffling to a dull roar, barely audible above the single pump of her heart. Her eyes were pulled down out of habit, the empty sockets useless for actually seeing what her spectral sight told her to be true. The violet hand of the wrathguard in front of her held the hilt of a black sword, the blade of the weapon extending toward her, through her. She could feel the too-slow momentum of the blade still being pushed through her, the strength of the blow pulling her along with the swing. Her heart pumped again, the agonizing thump reminding her that with each beat, she was dying. In this false calm, she had time to wonder how she had missed that attack.

Time betrayed her, returning to its normal tempo. The slow swing became like the swing of a goblin’s golf club, throwing her up and off the blade. She hit the ground on her shoulder, the force of the blow releasing her grip on the glaives as she gasped from the shock and pain. Her stomach and back were warm, she couldn't think straight. Darthalesh was screaming. Her vision began to swim, she lost all sense of where she was. She could see Shadehaven, her baby daughter, her mother Lyllysea in her stunning blue and green leathers, her brother Therion as he had been in their childhoods, before the demons had stolen him, heart and soul. She could see Althallas. Althallas.. the love of her life, the light in the darkness of her young adult life. She could see him, channeling Elune’s divine storm against the demons of Antorus. She didn't remember that memory, how very..

She looked again. It had to be her dying mind playing tricks on her. But then he turned and she could see his eyes. They were angry, steeled in the fires of combat.. but she knew. She would know his face anywhere. He was here.

And then he saw her. Through the scars, the missing eyes and demonic horns, through the broken, scaly skin, he saw her. And she saw the flicker of recognition, the confusion all over his still so handsome face. Althallas.

The edges of her spectral sight began to fade, her mana bleeding out as quickly as her blood. There was so much to say, and no time to say it. No time for apologies, or renewed vows of love, or even a hello. Just this one silent moment, their eyes locked in silent acknowledgment that they had both survived that night so long ago, lost and apart. Israva slipped away, millions of miles from home, so much left undone. But this final glance at the most important person to her in all the Great Dark would have to be enough.

(( “When someone leaves your life, those exits are not made equal. Some are beautiful and poetic and satisfying; others are abrupt and unfair; but most are unremarkable, unintentional and clumsy.” -Griffin McElroy

Israva went places I never intended her to go. I can blame rng, or lack of ic support for the path she took (and please know that isn't accusatory. If I wanted the world to revolve around my characters, I'd write a book), but honestly? I'm okay with this. I've toyed with sadness, but not true tragedy. Not like this, not this abrupt, unfair ending to a character I sunk hours into.

I'm sad of course, but Israva had no place she belonged to. Not really. She sacrificed everything, and in the end, she was left with nothing. Left with not even the knowledge that anyone will realize she's truly gone. It's fitting, in a strange way. She came in like a whirlwind and died as quickly as she arrived. Suddenly, painfully, bitterly.

To those who had a hand in Israva’s story: Thank you.))

[everything-you-mist]

Choose Joy

A lot changed after I looked into the Mirror of Shadows. To tell the truth, I’m still figuring out what it means. The mirror was supposed to show the best and worst you can be, the highest you can climb and the furthest you can fall. I wasn’t really worried about it going in, I didn’t really care about knowing the best, and I already knew the worst.. But there was something about that thing. One step into the room and it felt like the rest of the world just.. Melted away. It was just me and the mirror, surrounded by the sounds of battle, too far away to be of any note. It called to me. Not in words but in feelings, this desire to be used, this desire to be seen. It was filled with unspoken promise, as if looking in it.. As if looking in it would answer some question I hadn’t dared to think. I don’t remember making a conscious decision to start walking forward, shedding my fur and claws to approach on my own two feet, but I somehow found myself standing right in front of it, watching it.

That smooth stone surface rippled as I approached, my reflection twisting and darkening into the familiar twisted smile and wide eyes of a future I’d faced for months, the heartless and mindless butcher my friends and family fought so hard to steer me away from. Our eyes locked, and I felt that familiar bloom of pain in my sternum, reminding me just how far I’d gone to avoid this gruesome possibility. But it was okay. I’d faced it already, this was fine.

Then it changed.

The murderer melted away, fading back into the dark stone and leaving only my own reflection in it’s stead. And that was it. No glorious Archdruid, no powerful Thane of the Watchers. It was just… me. I watched myself grow, getting older and older but never changing in demeanor as the image faded. And as the mirror’s thrall released me, the realization hit me

like a charging ram. This was it. My greatest possibility, the highest I could climb.. I was already there. This was it.

It’s been on my mind for months now, struggling to come to terms with it. What was I going to tell everyone? I hadn’t realized how much I was holding onto the idea that someday I’d be better. And now.. I just wouldn’t be? I’d never be better than I am now? I couldn’t handle that knowledge. Instead, I drew into myself, spending all of my time in Ironforge, walking circles around the center of the city all alone. I let the world around me fade out, blurs on the edge of my vision as I walked and thought. We’d worked so hard, and this.. This was the result, this mess of a woman that I was and always would be.

It wasn’t fair! It wasn’t fair to me, it wasn’t fair to everyone who was hoping, waiting for me to get better. I argued with myself for hours, trying to be angry, to refuse accepting this! But, it’s not like someone told me it was over. How do you argue with a mirror? The other side had been accurate.. There was no reason to doubt. In the weeks after that day, I’d stop in at home as little as possible, just long enough to drop off food or sleep. Instead.. I just walked. Round and round the forge I went, until the curious stares became too much. I left the city, walking out into the snow toward the pond I’d fought Israva atop. What could I do now, if I couldn’t keep moving forward?

Lost in thought, I barely registered the sound of something dropping behind me. I tried to turn around, but I was grabbed by the scruff of my neck before I could. I felt their claws dig into the skin as I was picked up and turned to face the cloth-filled gaze of my mother.

“And so we finally meet, Kaleala.” It was my mother’s skin, but her voice was all wrong. It was smooth as silk, sinister intent in every syllable. I stuttered, searching for a biting reply, but I was dropped instead as she continued. “I don’t expect you to understand the situation you find yourself in, but rest assured, I am not your mother. I have no intention of groveling at your mercy, nor do I have any intention of making myself a punching bag, so I’d recommend staying as you are. Attempting to stand may have… consequences.” The thing continued to walk a few steps more, glancing back at me over their shoulder. “You’ve been quite the thorn, Kaleala. A wiser demon would murder you where you stand and end this nonsense once and for all. But.. alas, you have your uses. Particularly, in ensuring your mother’s cooperation.”

I sat there, dumbstruck. So this was a demon hunter. Or, at least the demon part. A dozen retorts came to mind, but I couldn’t utter any of them. Israva had been able to beat me before. Without any restraints, this thing could very easily kill me, this far from help.

“At least you seem to understand your position, weakling. I can only hope that is the reason for your silence.” The demon turned, walking back to crouch beside me, still towering over my prone form. “All things considered, I do agree with your mother. Your cruelty is only matched by your lack of empathy, as far as I can tell. But, you are your mother’s daughter. Your dramatic streak is certainly hers. So here’s what we’re going to do.” The demon reached down, grabbing my shirt and pulling my face up to meet theirs. “I don’t care how, but you need to get your act together. At least enough to convince your mother to get her act together. Fake it if you must, just get it done.”

Message delivered, he threw me to the ground and left me as a heap in the snow. There I stayed until my body began to go numb from the cold, thinking and struggling to will myself to move. I felt empty, knowing that even demons were tired of me. It’s a feeling I can’t really describe. Something had to change. Falsely, if that's what it took.

So, in the next few days, I came up with a plan. I started catching a portal to Darnassus any time I could, hiding my tattoos under a thick layer of makeup every time I went. I started studying how normal night elves acted, the grace and serenity. For weeks, I fought to suppress my rough Firebeard-esque language, tucking away my spirit and desire to fight. I put away the monk’s manual and threw myself back into conventional druid studies.

Dad didn’t notice anything wrong. How could he? It was normal for me to disappear, normal to keep to myself. It was better that way, really. This would be better for us. I could pretend to be better than this fu-- messed up person I grew up into if nobody looked too close.

Dararoo didn’t notice. I came into work as if nothing had happened. I kept my language mostly in check, followed orders without question. Ricky didn’t notice at first either, he kept up his cheerful musings about summer work, hardly noticing my simple replies. I could feel my heart tight in my chest, but I ignored it. This was better. I would appear to recover, nobody would have to see what was really there.

For a while, it was working. I was exhausted by the end of the day from keeping up the act, but with my tattoos hidden, I hadn’t been in a fight in a long while. It was strange feeling lonely again. I hadn’t realized how comfortable I was, having people around all the time. But, that couldn’t be the case anymore. If they got too close, if they saw what was underneath.. It would all be ruined.

This would be better, I told myself at every opportunity. They could feel that pride, they did it. They fixed me. They didn’t have to know.

***

But it didn't work for long. I lasted maybe two weeks before the true effects of my deception began to appear. My change in behavior was only briefly questioned, but I could see how upset Ricky was when I brushed him off. I told myself that was better. If I pushed him away, my behavior wouldn't be so strange. No one would be able to get close enough to look.

But I still hurt him. It bothered me enough to leave the caravan a few days later. I didn't say anything to anyone, didn't even say goodbye. I just left. I went home. I felt cold, and angry and I just.. I wanted to stop feeling. I made it roughly halfway before another idea began to pull at the edges of my vision. There was a bar, in the same district as home, and most dwarves couldn't recognize how young I actually was. No one would know. It was just a few drinks, enough to numb but not enough to impair. I could handle it.

I settled in, ordered an ale... not because I like ale but because it was the first thing that came to mind. The place wasn't too busy, sparse enough to give me a table to myself at least. A human and a dwarf stood at the bar itself, clearly friends already mid-conversation, and a gnome was tinkering with something quietly as she sat on the stairs, her mug left untouched beside her. As I waited for my drink, hunched over and laying my head on my arms, I let my thoughts drift and, though I didn't mean to, I began to listen in on the two at the bar, talking loud enough to be heard clear as day.

“Can you believe the view we have now? That shattered planet on our doorstep? You can't go outside without being reminded of the coming apocalypse.” The taller man sighed, his complaints only paused to take a long drink from his mug. His companion, the dwarf, merely chuckled, swirling his own drink around absentmindedly.

“Yeah, well. Things look bad but, I think we’ll be alright.”

I don't know if it was frustration or disbelief that led the human to slam down his drink, but after a jolt of surprise on my end, I watched him out of the corner of my eye turn his entire upper body to face his friend.

“You know, I don't understand you. You and I, we've been through hell. Soldiers since the third war, we've seen our fair share of strife. How can you still be smiling? What makes you so happy?”

“Well… Life makes me happy.” The dwarf set his mug down, turning to address his friend directly. From this angle, I could see just how wide his smile was. “You can find joy anywhere in life. I think it's a conscious choice. You choose joy in life and no matter how bad thing are, no matter how dark, you find joy.”

Picking up his mug and using it to gesture, the dwarf continued. “I don't always do things right, or do things smart but whatever I do, I find joy in it.. because at the end of the day, that's all you got, is looking back on the joy you had and the joy you found and the joy you gave other people.”

The human didn't.. really say anything past a quiet 'huh’, returning to his drink in thoughtful silence. And I can't be sure, but that dwarf glanced at me, I think. And he winked.

((This post originally stopped at where the break is now. Dark and sad, par for the course for my druid. But, I decided to take it a different direction after this week.

The dwarf at the bar is based off Merle Highchurch, from the Adventure Zone. Clint is a smart, smart guy and that particular quote by his character Merle in the later chapters has stuck with me, as seen above in.. largely unaltered form.

I decided I don't want Aly to be miserable anymore. I'd rather let the few times I have the time to bring her out to be a good thing. So I built a Merle. Just a random dwarf in Ironforge, not a character in the making at all. For his one scene, he's just going on about what he thinks, not directly to Aly but something she needed to know anyway. It's about time I let her be happy. So I hope you'll pardon the theft. The quote is barely changed, but I wanted Aly to hear it as it was said.

@crazyprophet-box-o-plots for Ricky mentions and @library-of-the-forgotten for Roo. Sorry it’s been so sporadic lately... and changing Aly on a dime again. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  ))

[everything-you-mist]

Going back to fix a plot problem

…While trying not to mess anything else up:

[everything-you-mist]

When you have those people you want to interact with non-stop but you feel like you bug the shit out of them.

[everything-you-mist]

See You Later

((Don’t let the title panic you, Chiaka’s not dying or anything. I called this one ‘See You Later’ after the song of the same title by Griffin McElroy. I was listening to it while I wrote, and I highly recommend giving it a listen while you read.))

It was early when Chiaka woke, getting out of bed and walking down the hill near her home to clean away the fallen leaves from the graves and do her morning practice. Chiaka could feel her age in her every motion, in her aching back and creaking joints as she swept away the debris and felt her chi stretching thinner and thinner as she walked through the practiced steps and motions of mistweaving. She was getting old. Stress had been high this year, the Legion invasion and recent troubles throughout Endless keeping her on high alert. She’d been constantly baking to keep herself from going mad. No doubt it had only increased her constant fatigue, on top of caring for the gaggle of children living under her roof. She was tired.. So very tired.

Once the work was done, she carefully lowered herself to sit beside Heng’s tree, looking out over the bay to the far off Alliance settlement. It’d been nearly a year now since her retirement from the army. The end of her time on active duty had been quietly celebrated, letting her focus on her work with the Endless, raising her daughter, and the many, many adopted grandchildren she had acquired one way or another. But lately, she’d begun to wonder if perhaps it was time to hang up her hat with the Endless as well.

The thought of retirement had bothered her greatly for many years. She’d avoided it thus far, fearing boredom or loneliness, and the idea was banished from her mind each time is strayed into her thoughts. But her hip had never been the same since she was thrown against a wall some months back, nor had her memory recovered much from before her time in Tanaan. She was aware of what happened of course, her insanity and dangerous research, but it still felt as though it had happened to someone else.

In addition to all that, she’d come to accept that the battlefield was changing far faster than she could cope. Demon Hunters were everywhere these days, elves twisted into abominations.. Why, it was almost as bad as attempting to harness the sha. It may seem brilliant in the moment, but such things can never end well, no of course not. She couldn’t understand such things, could not even begin to understand their mindsets.

Perhaps, she mused, war was better suited to the young. She could resign, perhaps take on a few students instead, pass along what she’d learn over the years and just spend the rest of her time watching over her family. She feared she’d become restless.. But the idea was appealing nonetheless. Using the sturdy tree, she carefully got back to her feet, much to her body’s chagrin, patting the coarse bark once she was stable.

“What do you think, Heng?”

((I love Chiaka, and I don’t think I’ll ever have the heart to end her time on Azeroth, but at eighty years old, it’s definitely time for her to step off the battlefield and just enjoy her time as a parent and grandparent. Her retirement has been long coming.))

[everything-you-mist]

Checking In

Physali stood in front of the Vrykul-sized shield serving as her mirror, tensing her arms and staring in disbelief at the wirey muscles that had slowly appeared over the last year. Under Neduni’s tutelage, she at last had what she wanted. If you looked past the thick-rimmed glasses and the childish pigtails, Physali was strong. She at last looked like a warrior, and felt like a warrior, no longer needing levitation spells to carry her large swords or to wear her heavy plate armor. In the wilds of the Broken Isles, she has survived and prospered, fighting the Legion and their allies at every turn.

It wasn’t without its sacrifices, of course. Without her constant practice, her arcane abilities were beginning to fade from disuse. She could still do portals and scrying spells, her specialties. Those spells were burned into her memory and would take more than lack of practice to lose, but other spells she had once used daily were not as reliable as they once were. It wouldn’t be long before she lost them completely.

It was exactly what she wanted, in a way. She was leaving her old self behind, the foolish scientist and mage that had destroyed everything around her. She could leave behind her mistakes, creating the aggressive disease Animi Fermitas, standing aside as her horde friends were driven out or killed in Dalaran during the Pandaria campaign, abandoning the Black Claw, abandoning the Watchers.

She briefly wondered what became of the Watchers. She’d checked on the occasional Saturday, only to find static in her scrying of several members, as though they were no longer on this plane of existence.. But other times, she’d just see them living their lives, still relaxing by the pond or doing as everyone else was doing these days: Fighting the Legion.

Did they even realize she’d gone? Maybe that was for the best. They had enough to worry about, and honestly, so did s--

With a thunderclap, the sky outside her tent turned sickly green. Stormheim was being invaded. Again. Leaving her musing behind, she picked up her swords and trotted off to find Neduni. There was work to be done.

((ROUND TWO! Expect like.. six more of these. Probably not tonight, but soon (tm)

@oldwornjournal for Neduni mentions~))

[everything-you-mist]

No Haven

Do you ever intend to resume control, Israva?

In the dark green place Israva had banished herself to, she had rendered herself fairly blind to the world around her possessed body, but even so she was unable to escape Darthalesh and his constant pestering.

“I don’t know why you continue to ask. Is this not what you wanted?” She uncurled herself, floating on her back above an unseen surface in the endless expanse. If Darthalesh wished to talk, there was very little she could do to stop him in this state. She may as well stretch.

You have very little knowledge of my wishes, it seems. I’m surprised you’ve let me run rampant for so long. Have you given up?

“What do you think?”

Now, now, no need to be terse. But, there’s much work to be done, the tomb is opened.

“And you’ve kept us on the shore. On Azeroth’s side, no less. Leave me be.” Israva began to curl back in on herself, but was forced back on her feet as the gravity in this mental landscape shifted below her. As she found her footing on the now-firm invisible surface, Darthalesh appeared before her, disguised as her double. He spoke in her voice, used her mannerisms. The two were becoming more horrifyingly alike every day.

“Are you really so easy to break? After everything, all it required was waiting for you to lose your temper and spit a few insults at a family member, then you shut down and I’m free to destroy you? Full control, shredding your body little by little as I ignore your injuries and push you until you can no longer feel under the bleeding?”

“I have no need to defend myself to you, demon.” Israva turned away, not wanting to look at herself, but only found the same view behind her. Darthalesh’s rage was palpable, the elven mask he wore scrunched in fury.

“You must do something, you damnable wretch! The world is moving on without you, you’ve abandoned your post. Protecting your spawn and the world she inhabits has guided your every step. You’ve accepted her spite of you over and over again, only for your bleeding heart to draw you back into her mercy. And now, because you’ve hurt her again, you’re willing to join the Legion.”

“I never said I would join!”

“I no longer require your permission! You have allowed me to have full control for months now. Me, a demon who has tempted you into the Legion’s embrace again and again for nearly a decade. In doing so, you have signed Kaleala’s death warrant. You have granted the Legion another tool, another weapon to break against the failing defenses of this pitiful breaking world. Blind in this Warden Prison you’ve created for yourself, I very well may have already killed her and you’d have no idea. Wake up, you fool!”

Israva flinched as though she’d been struck. She backed away, pressing herself against the wall behind her. She didn’t recall a wall.. There shouldn’t be one in this infinite space.

“You forget how useless she can be, Darthalesh.” Her brother’s voice spoke from behind her as he wrapped his fingers around her shoulders. Death could not stop Therion, not here in her own sick mind. “Why bother with the lecture, the pep talk? If this world is going to burn, let it burn.” Therion pulled Israva back as he stepped around her to face Darthalesh. “Isn’t this what I promised you? The weakest of the new demon hunters, certain to crack easily and grant you your shroud?”

“Secrets are becoming scarce these days, it seems. I had hoped to keep that between your corpse and I.” Darthalesh’s rage melted away, returning to calm and unreadable as he so often was.

“You have what you want, demon. Why not leave her here? Let her wallow until what’s left of her spirit is consumed by fel. Why do you seek her redemption?”

Darthalesh’s gaze left Therion, looking beyond him back at Israva. “I’m not sure.”

((OH HI. I’m still alive. This lovely mess is my latest attempt to return to rp by catching up on what my roster’s been up to since I fell off the side of Azeroth. Israva ended up first for no particular reason, but enjoy the view inside her head. I found it really funny that nobody realized something was wrong, or even that her personality changed at all when Darthalesh took over. It became a very fun little secret I had. Surprise!))

[everything-you-mist]

This sounds amazing, and I want to try it asap.

All GM campaign

It’s a great idea. I recommend it. Each session has a new GM. The new GM has to figure out what’s happening based on playing the last session. GMs can’t compare notes. It’s like a game of telephone. The story just keeps getting mangled. 10/10.

[everything-you-mist]

Survival Instincts

Remember when I said loving someone is hard? I lied. Loving someone is impossible, and you know why? Because when you do, you create a weakness that cannot be protected. Because when you will do anything to protect someone, eventually… someone’s going to put that to the test.

I thought I was getting better. I’d found a way to be okay. I’d made it through everything, I’d taken control of my life and I’d started to feel strong. But the moment Dad was threatened, I was right back to being as powerless as the day he found me. They told me if I didn't do what they said, Dad would die. The one time I wanted to stay, I wanted to fight, I was forced to run. If I went back, they’d kill him. If I told anyone, they’d kill him. All I could do was run. Run and hope against hope that they’d keep him alive.. That their threat wasn’t just a ruse to get me out of the way. I could feel my heart going cold at the thought. What if he was already dead? What if my inability to act had killed him long before I left?

But what else could I do? If there was even the slightest chance to save him, I had to go. But where? Dalaran was full of familiar faces, so was Stormwind. Neither could be far enough to satisfy the new invader in my mind, so where? I let myself land on the rocks overlooking Olivia’s pond, looking around the nearby Pandaren camp and trying to come up with a plan.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a half-open crate with books in it, Common writing on the spines. It took me a few moments to work out the difficult words but in the end, I could read it. ‘Xuen: A Study in Strength and Introduction to Tiger Style’. Distracted for a moment, I thought about the book I had left on the porch.. My reading had gotten so much better, Xylia had helped so much with the easier books she’d given me. Then she turned around and did all this. Why… Why?! I thought we were friends, she was my second.. I thought.. I thought she’d forgiven us. But that’s just how it goes, isn’t it? I let myself believe things were different, I let myself believe I could trust her and the only thing it changed was how much the blade burned when it got stabbed in my back.

I had to pay for that trust now with my freedom. I couldn’t warn anyone, and even if I could, I had no idea how far Xylia’s and Thaeldred’s influences reached. I was on my own. So where to? If I went back to Pengfei’s, I might be found eventually.. Of course, just thinking that was enough to make that idea dangerous. What was the extent of that thing’s power? Could he hear my thoughts? Would he hear any plan I made? What could I do against an enemy that could anticipate my every move, knew my every thought?

The only plan I could make was no plan. I had to act without thinking. That’s all I could do safely, don’t think, just act. So I stole a book right out of that crate. Why? I dunno. I guess somewhere in my mind, I needed it. To keep practicing? Because I felt weak, and needed strength? Whatever. I stole it. I gripped the spine in my talons and flew in a wide loop over the pond. I could hear several pandaren yelling at me as I flew as fast as I could back over the camp, several spells flung at me as I passed. I didn’t stop, I flew right to the Earthshrine and straight through the maintained portal to Hyjal.

I came through the other side at full speed, not daring to slow down, not daring to think. I wove through the roots of Nordrassil, making my way south, even as fear and dread rose in my throat. My instincts were leading me to the Firelands. I didn’t want to go back! Of all the places to go, why here?! I hesitated, the hot winds of southern Hyjal blowing over the Regrowth and threatening to throw me into a spiral even as I dove toward the flamegate amid my panic. They’d never find me here, I had to pick somewhere else!

I pulled out of the dive a few seconds too late, clipping the gate itself. I was thrown over the edge of the cliff behind it and crashed into the water below, the shock of the cold water forcing me back into elven shape. I sunk like a rock, the water slowing my descent just enough to only bump my shoulder as I hit the bottom and swim back up and to shore unharmed. I could see the sanctuary of Malorne shining not far away, and I could see a pair of druids staring at me. The book, thrown from my grip by the force of the crash, laid sprawled on the ground a short distance away, pages folded in on themselves and dirtied. I sat there, frozen for a moment.

I couldn’t go to the Firelands. The only one to ever find me there was Haldreth, and he’d had help. And that assumed people would even look for me. I left on unannounced trips all the time, no one would even question my absence. It would take months before anyone wondered where I was.. I picked myself up, avoiding eye contact with the other druids and retrieved the book, picking it back up in my talons as I returned to my flight as quickly as I could.

I flew over the molten half of Hyjal, my wings aching from my crash, and the further I went, the worse they got. High over Ashenvale, the pain grew more and more unbearable, forcing me down in a glide. As I neared the ground, I tried to pull up, even a little, but even that was too much. Through burning pain, I lost my form and I fell the last distance. I landed on my shoulder, my sternum joining the chorus of aches as I rolled to a stop. I stayed sprawled out staring up at the pinkening sky as somewhere behind the trees, dawn began to break. From where I laid, I could see a barrow den, the massive caverns used as prisons and resting places while druids spent years in the Emerald Dream. I could hide here.. I could find help in the dream, far from-- My heart sank. I’d thought of a plan, now made useless by its very creation. Even if he couldn’t follow me into the Dream, he could kill Haldreth the moment I left, assuming my treachery..

If Thaeldred could hear my thoughts, he didn’t reply. In a way, he didn’t have to. I could feel fear gripping my heart amid the silence.. What if this wasn’t even far enough? Would I even know? Everything hurt, my body battered by the crashes… But I stood. My shoulders screamed, begging for rest, but my legs worked fine. On slow elven legs, book tucked under my arm, I walked away from the den. I had to keep walking as far as I could, do whatever it took. I had to keep Haldreth alive.

((Haaaaahaha, this post. Six re-writes, and I’m still not happy with it. But dammit, I gotta write something! So have a post.

@crazyprophet-box-o-plots for Haldreth and Thaeldred.

@library-of-the-forgotten for Xylia.))

[everything-you-mist]

Remember Who You Are

No matter what I tried, Israva’s words kept bouncing around my head, her final jab repeating over and over at the smallest suggestion.

“You’re as demon as I am.”

I told myself from the start that it didn't matter. She was an ass, I didn't like her, why give a damn what she thought about me? But every time I started to believe myself, this nagging doubt would wonder, ‘but what if she’s right’? It bothered me. It really, really did.

I stayed by dad’s bed the entire day after the fight, refusing to shift out of owlcat. I didn’t want to talk about what had happened, and I was sure that if he could see under my feathers, he’d know I’d been hurt. Dad didn’t like my refusal, but he let me do my own thing like he always did. It’s pretty rare that my dad pushes anything. I appreciate that. More than he knows, I think. Never have been good at expressing shit, especially gratitude. There’s a fine line between gratitude and grovelling and I sure as hell ain’t finding where it is.

That first day was complete shit, Israva echoed in my head more and more as the hours passed. I didn’t want to reach out to my dad for help, I didn’t want him to know Israva had kicked my ass to the curb, and that made at least part of her assessment true.

“You refuse to let people get close to you, refuse to let people comfort you.”

Well, so what? I’m Mer’Catharn! Fel, I lead it! That means strength, and I have it. I can stand on my own, I can deal with my own problems! Well, except when Dararoo got involved. Or Ricky, or Anara, or.. Or Pengfei… Dammit, Pengfei.

I couldn’t do anything. Pengfei’s death was instant, I couldn’t heal a corpse, even with the proper training I didn’t have back then. He was there and then.. Then he wasn’t. It usually goes that way when I let people in, even a little. Thalae was a bitch, but she raised me. I killed her before I even knew what was happening. I didn’t mean to, I never wanted her dead! But it happened, and I didn’t know anything about healing. No use there. I couldn’t even find Essie, the druid that started to teach me in Val’Sharah. I have no idea when she died. All I know is I couldn’t find her, even after Xavius was dead. Even my dad has nearly died several times. Every bone in his body broken one time, left to slowly go mad as parasites ate away at him slowly and painfully another.. Even one time I really thought he’d died by a blade in his throat. Every single time, I had to sit there and pray to a goddess I don’t even believe in that he’d stick around. Useless. Every single person I’ve considered anywhere near family… It’s too dangerous to give anyone that label. So okay, mom. You’re right, I refuse. There’s only so much of this I can take.

I had nightmares that night after the fight, nightmares I haven’t had in a long time of fire and blood plaguing my sleep. I woke up cold, drenched in sweat, with an ache in my paws. I spent that night pacing, trying to calm down. If I still had any access to fire, I’m sure I would have been engulfed in flames with how much my hands ached. Almost.. Missing it. It was a lot like one of my earlier breaks, pacing in the water below Ricky’s house in Pandaria, trying so hard to control the fury that threatened to bubble over at any moment. I remember my blood singing in my veins, begging to ignite back then, just as it did now. Around dawn, I left and didn’t come home.

I’m not sure why I went to Pandaria. Flying over the Peak of Serenity was painful, memories of Pengfei’s death made fresh by the fel-scarred plateaus and the inactive spires of the Legion’s portal here. The peaceful continent hadn't been spared any more than anywhere else. My shoulder ached where I had fallen, the constant beating of my wings refusing it’s every attempt to heal. I slept as little as possible, trying to escape my nightmares that were rapidly evolving with me. They were filled with  flames that were no longer red but tinted green, my double’s familiar empty smile only made worse by taking on Israva’s features, the horns and scaley skin.

I made good time to the northern shore with only a few naps, landing on the roof of what had once been Pengfei’s home. My chest hurt, being here. It’d been quiet before, but with just me here, it was so much worse.. I wanna say I broke in, but the door was unlocked. There was a thin layer of dust over everything, but all the perishable food was gone, moved out by someone. Whoever it was made sure nothing would rot, but left the house be otherwise.

Far as I could tell, nobody was living here. I hopped up on the bed, looking around and just.. Thinking. It’d been only months, and he was gone. All around me, his old paintings of Xuen stared at me. The tiger was faded, kept in the lonely house all this time, without the care his owner had provided to him. If I was any kind of poet, I’d probably have something to say about that. Still sad though, somehow.

I let myself flop back on the oversized pandaren mattress, staring up at the ceiling to avoid the painted eyes, and I had just started to drift off into another nap when I heard someone step onto the wooden porch outside.

I was up in an instant, slinking to the floor on my paws to investigate. As I looked out the open doorframe, there stood a very confused and surprised Anara.

“Hi. I wasn’t expecting to find you so fast.” We both kinda stared at each other in silence. I mean, I didn’t know what to say. What could I say? What was she even doing here? “Er.. That sounded foreboding and menacing. Of which it’s supposed to be neither! So, uh.. A friend would like to talk to you. Said it was important and you needed to hear it. And Chiori isn’t letting me sleep until he ‘stops bothering her’ so…” Her voice trailed off, and she held out her hands, looking nervous. I shook my feathers out, preparing to shift back to a form I could talk in, but Anara continued without giving me time. “Don’t worry! Time is wonky there and we shouldn’t be gone long! And if something foreboding happens, I’m ninety percent sure I can get us out in one piece!” Without another moment, dark inky shadows poured from her hands and quickly enveloped the two of us as they filled the room. I screeched, an owlcat cry of terror, but the shadows were gone as quickly as they came, taking Anara with them. I was alone in the dark house, nothing different but a strange purple tinge to everything.

I spent a few minutes looking around, trying to understand what had happened, but before I could really get into my search, I heard the sand outside being thrown by something slamming into it.

I turned immediately, keeping myself low to the ground and returning to the doorway to investigate. Out on the violet-tinted beach stood a creature, skin cracked and filled with bright fel. Great spines sprouted from it’s back and long claws fingers grasped at the air as it stares at me. It was more demon than elf, but I knew that face. Israva. And she was angry. Under my feet, I saw the sigil too late, bright blue forcing me back into my helpless elven shape. I scrambled back into the shade of the doorframe, and she had the gall to laugh as she began to approach. I was trapped. I couldn’t fly away, I couldn’t outrun her in this shape. I could only sit there on the ground, my small knife as my only defense.

“Time to meet your end, demon of mine.” she hissed, an unearthly low echo to her voice as she reached the stairs. I opened my mouth to scream, to insult her, to do something, but then, something landed on the porch, blocking most of my view. A pandaren, in dusty orange clothes. Impossible.. With a swift strike from the pandaren, Israva was thrown across the sand, paralyzed at the shoreline. I could hear her growling furiously, but it was me the Pandaren addressed.

“Child.. Have you forgotten who you are so quickly?” He turned as he spoke, looking at me with those familiar sad eyes. “To conjure up such a visage.. I would wonder if you remembered anything I taught you.” Visage? I glanced around Pengfei’s side, Israva was gone. Had she just been an illusion?

“What are you doing here?” I asked, still staring at the sand. “You died..”

“Who are you?”

I looked up at Pengfei, offended. How could he forget? But the look he gave me.. That quiet disappointment, the same look he’d given me when I woke up in his house the first time. He hadn’t forgotten.

“I’m.. I’m Allaea. You called me Lee, the last time you saw me.” My voice shook, a lump in my throat. Pengfei shook his head, settling himself on the floor and continuing to watch me.

“That is not what you told me. Who are you?” I quailed under that steady gaze. I didn’t know what to feel. I was angry, and hurt, and heartbroken, and filled with grief. He was dead, what was he doing here? I didn’t even get a hello? Just.. who am I? And where was Anara? Pengfei seemed to sense my frustration, reaching gently to the dusty cooking pot beside the door in silence. That’s what he meant..

“You mean.. That whole empty cup thing?” The words tumbled out as I thought them.

“You are Allaea Stagthorn, but what else?”

“... That’s not fair. I said all that stuff before! Things changed, things got more complicated!”

“You are Kaleala Farrunner, are you not?”

“Stop it! I don’t want that, I don’t want anything to do with her!”

“Lee..” Pengfei looked disappointed. Not angry, just.. Sad. “You are so much more than this. You’re holding onto your hatreds, your hurts, just as you were when you came into my care. Did you truly learn so little?”

“Pengfei, she abandoned me.”

“So did Haldreth.”

“Wha--” I was shocked. How did he know anything about that? “That was different, he came back.”

“So did she.”

“N-no. Pengfei, that’s not fair, look at her!”

“I am.” I looked at Pengfei in confusion, about to retort, but he continued. “A woman willing to change herself for another, not always for the better. She made choices she regrets, but she fights on anyway. A woman forged in the fires of war--” I realized where he was going. I recognized the line, the same dramatic wording I’d said so long ago.

“Stop it, that’s not fair!” I screamed. I stood, yelling in his face, but he wouldn’t stop. He kept going.

“A woman forged in the fires of war, that someday wishes to be happy.” I lashed out. I was still locked out of my forms from whatever that illusion had done, but I swung my fist at him anyway. Without much effort at all, Pengfei reached out and caught it, holding me there. Israva’s words were at the forefront of my mind, practically screaming in my ear.

“You’re as demon as I am.”

“I have already taught you everything I can, Lee. You know the truth, and you try to drive it away and refuse to look it in the eye.” Pengfei was as serene as always, his words cutting through the din like it was nothing. “Empty yourself of hatred. Let it go.” Pengfei let go of my hand with a gentle push, sending me back a few steps as he got up and walked outside.

Without looking back, Pengfei left me there on the front porch. He stepped across the sand, and onto the water like it was nothing, walking to the far shore, where two figures were waiting for him. I thought I was alone again, but the creaking of the bottom step drew my eye there, where an elf sat with her back turned to me.

“Hello..?” I stepped forward carefully, not knowing what to expect. The elf stood up silently, turning toward me. Her general shape was familiar. I recognized her face, but just about everything was off. Israva lacked the horns and cracked ridges that had been her defining features. She looked at me with the most sad eyes.. Eyes just like mine. We just stood there in silence, eyes locked. I didn’t know what to say.. I didn’t know what to do. As we stood there, the world around us melted away, the purple tints running together like paint being washed away. As it faded, so did she, leaving me there on the beach.

I let myself drop down to sit on the porch, leaning against the doorframe. Anara had somehow reappeared on the beach now that things were back to normal. In the pit of my stomach, I could feel distant anger. I should be pissed. I got tricked into whatever that was, and it had to have been Anara’s doing.. She seemed to know that too, her posture was tense and ready, defensive. But I was so tired.. I just kind of looked at her.

“So, that was…?”

“Hopefully something you needed to hear? I was hoping you’d tell me, because I was on the shore instead of the island because my brother is a jerk. Hopefully it went well? Also, would you like me to-...” She pointed to my shoulder, relaxing a bit. “Or give you a lift back to town?”

“Nah, it’s fine. Barely even hurts.” I shrugged casually and instantly regretted it. It actually really hurt. But a weird part of me wanted it to heal on it’s own. “I uh.. I got lectured about my mom. What about you?”

“Lectured about ‘eavesdropping’ and sparred with my brother. I think I’d take the lecture over that.”

“Heh.. friggin family, right?”

She laughed, brushing hair from her face, “It was good to meet you so soon, Aly. I hope you learned what you needed to. If you need anything else while you’re here, I’ll be at the temple.”

“Nah.” I shook my head, slowly getting to my feet. “Think I’m ready to go home. I’ll uh.. Send a postcard or something? You gonna be out here a while?”

“That depends on how long it takes for me to find what I’m looking for.” She smiled, turning her back to me and whistling sharply. From the opposite shore, wherever it had been hiding, a full-grown red cloud serpent came soaring over the water to Anara. Without even stopping to land, Anara was able to grab on and hoist herself into the saddle, the pair flying off toward the distant mountains. I took off not long after she left, returning the way I’d come, back to the portals and the mainland.

I spent the rest of the week in Stormwind. I wasn’t really ready to go home, I had lied to Anara, but I didn’t want to be alone anymore either. I roosted above the Watchers whenever they were grouped up, listening to the chatter as I thought to myself quietly. I’m still not sure if I’m okay. Probably not, actually. I haven’t seen Israva perched on any of the rooftops since I got back. I think she finally gave up. Probably for the best, really. I wasn’t ready to face her, after everything. If I’m honest, I don’t think I ever will be.

((Not as powerful as the last one, it was a hard one to follow up. But I had to stabilize the druid for Marquis events, and I had just watched Lion King soooo... return of dead mentor~! @crazyprophet-box-o-plots for Ricky and Haldreth mentions, @library-of-the-forgotten for Dararoo mentions, aaaaand @oldwornjournal for help with the Anara cameo (<3 ) ))

[everything-you-mist]

Breaking Point

Let me get a few things straight here. If anyone ever tells you that loving someone is easy, kick them in the teeth because that is the worst lie I’ve ever been told. And I’ve heard it dozens of times. They don't know shit. It took years to even let the word exist and it only exists in one context. I love my dad. I do. He’s an asshole, and I get pissed at him constantly, but I don't want to deal with the idea that he’s not gonna be around someday. I don't want to be Thane if it means going on without him. But that’s the only place I’m using that word. I love him.

I really like Ricky, but I ain't touching much more than that for a while. Being close is hard, and I won't lie, when he kissed my cheek, I shut down. You ever been in a situation where your only thought is just screaming? Because that was me. I still have no friggin clue if it was awesome or horrifying.

I don't do touch. I don't like being hugged by most people, I don't like pats on the back or anything like that. Kinda goes along with having a hard time with affection. I have to fight, you got me? If my best friend wants to hug me, all my focus is on not freezing up. Somebody touches my shoulder, all my focus is on keeping still and not flying away. It’s hard, and it’s tiring, so I only fight for the people I like. Everyone else can piss right off.

Especially my mom. Israva is a pain in the ass. She’s tried dozens of time to sit down with me, have a heart-to-heart. And I’ll try, seriously, I will. A lot of people think I should give her a chance. She’ll drop down from whatever roof she’s perched on, ask about my life in some way or another. She’ll try to talk boys, or ask about me, or tell a story..

“Kaleala? Are you listening?” I’d been trying really hard not to, but damn woman is hard to tune out.

“It’s Aly.”

“Fine, so then..?”

“Then what?”

Israva threw her arms up in frustration. “So you weren't listening.”

“Nope.” Not that it stops her.

Israva sighed, almost a growl. “All I wanted to know was how you’re doing. With your father hurt and everything, it must be a lot.”

“You’re always on the roof, why don't you tell me?”

“Believe it or not, I do have to work occasionally. Moreso lately. You know very well I’ve let you be. Besides, I thought you disliked having me nearby?”

“I hate it.”

“So how else am I supposed to know how you’re doing besides asking?”

My hand twitched involuntarily as my temper rose. Nosy demon, always getting after me. Can't take a damn hint.

“I’m fine. Dad’s fine.”

“You don't seem fine. You’re even moodier than usual, you rarely leave the house, it’s not healthy.”

“Screw you, I’m looking after dad.”

“Even with healers already tending to him?”

“I thought you said you weren't on the roof.”

“I’m not, I only check in from time to time.”

“Piss off.”

“You know I won't.” Israva reached for my hand and I jolted it back. “Please Aly, all I want to do is talk. That’s all I ask. I want to be a part of this, even a little.”

Look, I admit it. I’m a violent person. I’ve gone after co-workers, friends, even took a few swipes at my dad. I’m working on it. My patience is getting way better, I'm getting a lot better at talking before taking a swing at someone. But all that progress means absolute shit when it comes to my demon mom. When she reached for me again, I made sure she regretted it. Shifting forms is second nature for me, I can go from my natural shape to a tiger or owlcat in moments. And once I’m wearing paws, I’m deadly. My claws were out and raking Israva’s arm in an instant, and she drew back just as fast, crying out. I could smell the fel in her blood, it burned my nose like an onion and just ticked me off more. As she blindly stared at me, I let out a warning growl rolling in the back of my throat.

Any other day, Israva was easy to predict. She’d try to talk, she’d piss me off, I’d take a swing and she’d run away. Then I’d get privacy for a few hours while she ran off to cry or some shit. But Israva sat there a little longer this time, lowering her head as though she even could stare at the wound I had inflicted. A little too long, even, why wasn't she running off? I gripped the log we’d been sitting on with my claws, turning to leave when she spoke, the sound as low and dangerous as my growls.

“Is that really the only response you have? You don't like what’s happening so you attack?”

I froze, and I felt my feathers bristling instinctually. She’d never talked like this before. She sounded too angry, like a completely different person. Each syllable was spit and didn’t sound quite right. I dared to look back at her.

“And you think I’m the monster..” Israva rose slowly, her teeth grit and bared. From where she’d left them on the frozen river below us, her shields or fist guards or whatever they were, sprung to her hands. “If that’s the only language you speak, then so be it.”

She leapt forward, shoving one of the large shields in my face and pushing me off the log. I tried to dig my claws in to stay put but felt nothing but air beneath them as I was thrown a good few yards. I slid when I landed, the thick ice of the frozen lake protesting the new weight on it. As Israva approached at a slow walk, the air around us grew dry and hot and before I could get to my feet, the shores around us ignited. With the heat just behind me, I could tell there was fire on all sides, an inferno arena keeping me in with the demon hunter.

“No more running, Kaleala, not for either of us.”

When did she grow a spine?! I kicked off hard, scratching against the ice as I sprinted full speed around to her back and leapt up toward it. If I could get my claws into her shoulders, she’d do damage for me. I’d done this a million times with the Watchers, it was my favorite technique. But I think Israva knew that. I was inches away from contact when I felt cold metal shoving into my side and cutting into it. She had turned on a dime and swatted me out of the air. I hit the ground on my shoulder, a sharp pain shooting through it as I landed, and the ice audibly cracking. Definitely was going to bruise.

“You’re my daughter, dammit! You were never supposed to be this way. You are so much more than this angry, bitter.. dwarf you’re growing into!” She charged forward again, but this time I was ready to leap clear, the whoosh of the metal right behind me. A smart Druid would stay on her paws, but she insulted my dad. I let myself slide a distance away as I stood, back at elven height and yelled in her face.

“You don't get to decide that! I am proud of being Wildhammer, you hear me asshat? Haldreth and the Watchers have done more for me than you’ll ever do!”

“But you’re not Wildhammer. You’re Kaldorei! You should be proud of your real heritage!”

“Oh yeah, this coming from the demon! You’re no Kaldorei, you don't get to tell me I am!”

With a rage-filled roar, Israva leapt at me again. I scampered to the right as I sprouted feathers again, this time taking to the sky in a wide swoop on stormcrow wings to get out of the way.

“I am Kaldorei! I made myself this way because I thought I could keep this world safe if I did. I thought I could keep you safe. I know I was wrong. I understand that! But I still love you, dammit! You’re still my world.. that never changed. I’m still me!”

I tilted my wings, twisting in a tight circle above her head. “Screw this,” I thought, “I’m out of here.” But as I beat my wings to fly over the flames they rose to meet me. Amid crackling fire, I could smell my feathers burning and I could hear Israva behind me.

“You’re not leaving until we’re done, Kaleala!” I felt her hand on me a split second before I was thrown to the ground. I could see her still floating where we’d been, violet leathery wings spread from her shoulders as she watched me fall. I hit the ice hard, the shock shoving me back into elf form. She landed nearby soon after me, and I felt cold water start to seep through all the cracks we’d made. I struggled to sit up, and could only watch as bluish-green runes carved themselves into the ground around me, forming some kind of circle. I started to shift back to owlcat, banking on speed to get out before anything happened, but before I could escape, the rune flashed. I felt myself revert to my normal form and without my claws to help, my hand slipped, sliced by the broken ice. I landed on my shoulder again and curled into a small ball, pain making me shudder involuntarily.

I felt a breeze, along with a distinct smell of fel and a low chiming noise as a whirl of light green began to swirl around me. Daring to look up, I found myself surrounded by rune stones, a strange ring floating above my head.

“What is this..?”

“A prison. I’d rather not hurt you worse than I already have, so hold still.” Israva threw her weapons aside, spikes I hadn’t noticed protruding from her back receded from wherever they’d come from, and she sat down. “I also dampened your magic. We are talking, whether you want to or not.”

I didn’t respond, though I did sit up, hugging my knees and hoping someone would come along and get me out.

“We’ve been at this for more than half a year.. I don’t know where the time went, but you’ve been angry the entire time. You’ve dismissed me, attacked me, insulted me.. I’ve given you space, I’ve answered every question you’ve ever asked me, and yet, every conversation is still a minefield. Only a matter of time before I say the wrong thing and I lose a chunk of my arm. Or my shoulder. Or my stomach. And I’ve put up with it. I’ve never fought back because the idea of hurting you was so repulsive to me. My heart has been in pieces for months over your treatment of me and the only reason I’m still here--” Israva made a weird choking sound, inhaling like she’d just said something terrible. “The only reason.. I’m still here is because I see Althallas in you. I see the loving man your father was when you’re with your friends and even with Haldreth sometimes. You could be just like him, you have every capability if you’d just try. And I want to see it happen so badly.”

I punched at the edges of my prison furiously. “I’m not changing for anyone, least of all you! I didn’t even know Althal-whatever, I don’t care that I’m like him!”

“No, you’re right.”  Her tone darkened. “I was wrong to think you could be like him. You delight in cruelty, striking at any opportunity. You no longer recognize your kin for who they are. You have every opportunity to be more than you are, but you refuse to let people get close to you, refuse to let people comfort you.” My prison dropped, and so did the fire on the shores. “You are foul, Kaleala. In speech, in attitude, in action. I see now what you are.” She reached down and grabbed me by my shirt, lifting me far easier than I thought she could. I struggled in her grip, but without my abilities, I was useless, unable to get into a shape I could work with. I was forced to stay put and hear what she thought of me.

“You’re as demon as I am.”

((I rolled a pair of 1s today ;_; Got to try some more first person, but dammit... @crazyprophet-box-o-plots for Hald and Ricky~))

[everything-you-mist]

Cold Snap

The wind whipped Iyaena’s hair about her violently, forcing her to squint if she wanted to see at all as she clung to the saddle of the great cloud serpent. She was fairly certain she lost her hairband many feet below their ascent, but even in her limited vision, she knew this was worth everything. The sun was at her back, the wide expanse of sky above her interrupted only by thick clouds and the horned head of her carrier. She could feel her heart pounding in her ears, the familiar ache in her chest a dull warning to stay calm but she didn't care. She knew she’d regret it, she knew she’d hurt and cough but this…!

Below them was the Eastern Kingdoms. If she leaned off the side just a little, she could see alll three dwarven mountains, clear as day. She could see miles of ocean and forest all around her, painting the world below her in the dark watercolors of dawn, the hues bleeding into each other without the details of the landscape. From up here, it felt like she could go anywhere. She could drop down to Elwynn and fly loops around Stormwind Keep, or take the long flight north and see the crimson towers of Silvermoon. She could visit every place in her books, they were all real and in reach! This was freedom!

The serpent weaved and bobbed through the air, bouncing Iyaena’s nerves in the pit of her stomach as the pair twisted through the air, climbing higher and higher, only to dive steeply down the way they came, toward Stormwind’s gate and into the city. She felt herself rise off her seat, two leather straps about her waist the only thing beyond her meager strength keeping her from being thrown off completely. The rush of the wind whistled in Iyaena’s ears, gravity forcing her roughly back into her seat as the cloud serpent pulled up just above the heads of passers-by, sending them over the blue roofs of the Trade District and close enough to the Cathedral’s spire to touch if she’d wanted to.

Iyaena squeezed her eyes shut, the whooshing of the wind past the cathedral scaring her. In the pretend safety of the darkness, she felt the saddle shift a ways as her flight took her over the western ocean. Only after leaving land far behind them did she dare to peek. Below her was endless blue stretching into the shadows on the horizon, the great waves sparkling in the sunrise and she felt herself being captured by its beauty, her nerves settling to a simmer as she gazed out over the endless ocean. She idly wondered where they were going, but gave it little thought. Wherever they went, it would be new from up here.

Far sooner than Iyaena ever expected, a thin strange light grew more and more apparent ahead of them as they approached a group of dark shapes on the horizon. Those undefined shades becoming islands and the light turned a sickly green as the shrinking distance brought it into focus. Iyaena knew this place, seen only from the safety of Dalaran’s walls. The Broken Shore.. Iyaena felt her fear rekindle in her stomach as she called out to the serpent, voice all but lost in the salty sea winds.

“We have to turn back! It’s not safe here!” But, whether because she couldn't be heard over the wind, or because her mount chose to ignore her, the pair stayed on course, flying past the safety of Dalaran and heading inland. With a loud boom, muffled like distant cannon fire, a break in the clouds above Iyaena opened wide, horrible felbats falling in great droves to chase her. Iyaena cried out, leaning down over the saddle and praying for help but still, her serpent flew on heedless of the danger. Screeching filled her ears as the swarm grew closer and closer, and a dark foreboding laugh rose over the clamor and echoed endlessly in her thoughts.

She braced herself, and the attack began. All around her, horrible claws and teeth tore at her and her friend, and as Iyaena reached for her arcane abilities.. they refused to come. Her mind was a blank, not a spell circle or incantation coming to mind through the blanket of terror falling over her. She heard the low snap of one of the saddle’s straps being cut, then another. Her stomach churned with the weightlessness of falling as the saddle was left behind the fleeing serpent. The felbats followed it, ignoring the elf falling to the ocean below, and without the frenzy of the bats screeching in her ear, she was met with silence as she began her rapid descent.

She screamed, desperately trying to recall anything that could save her: slow fall, portals, blink, anything to stay alive, but as the ocean grew closer and closer as she fell, she saw the darkness bubbling beneath it. The boiling ocean rose to meet her, the beautiful blue water turning black as it climbed, streaks of white outlining eyes and a horrible toothy maw that laughed at her horror. The sha opened it’s mouth wide in it’s horrid mirth, leaving Iyaena to plummet into the abyss, accompanied by nothing but her own screaming..

Iyaena woke with a start, crying out sharply as she sat up in bed. Nearby, Kaly was awake in an instant, the low hiss of her strange part-owl, part-cat form filling the air of the small room they shared as she stood with her feathers on end, scanning the room for threats. On the other side of the wall, she heard the bang of a boot being thrown, followed by a string of obscenities as Mr. Firebeard made very clear his opinion of the sudden noise in the middle of the night.

Iyaena’s heart was pounding, her chest tight and painful and her lungs aching for air as her body panicked over the perceived danger… but there was none. It was only her and Kaly in the dark room. She wasn't anywhere near the Broken Shore, and certainly not on the back of a Cloud Serpent. She was safe under the mountain, in Ironforge. Kaly seemed to realize the same, shedding her form as she walked over to check on the young mage.

“Hey, you okay? What was that about?” she asked gently, sitting beside the makeshift sleeping bag.

“I’m sorry,” Iyaena replied meekly, a bit ashamed of herself for getting so worked up. “It was only a nightmare. Too many scary stories before bed, I suppose. I’m okay, I promise.”

“You sure?”

Iyaena nodded, and Kaly finally relented.

“Alright. M’going back to bed then. Night, Yena.” Kaly turned, letting herself slink to the floor on all fours, right back to the owlcat form she favored these days. She was out like a light the moment she curled up, soft growling snores filling the air and leaving Iyaena to her thoughts once more.

It was surreal, being here. She was living with an elf and a dwarf in a city built into a mountain, on the other side of the planet from her home. She was working for a Pandaren, she was learning magic from a human and (hopefully) a Highborne, she had met every race under the Alliance banner, and even some that weren't. Her world had grown exponentially, overwhelming her with new experience. Even her nightmares were far more grand out here.

Iyaena heard the bells chiming five. There was no point in going back to sleep now, so she rolled out of bed instead and reached for her pack. Her medicine bag was getting light. Fourteen doses left.. Enough for a week. Quietly, she thanked Elune for doctors. One in Ironforge even, and not too expensive. She just had to pick up the refill. The vanilla-flavored refill! Swallowing a dose of the bitter variant, Iyaena fetched her book from the pack and headed out the door. Even if Falkner didn’t have her medicine ready, she could read on the porch until it was.

The nightmare already fading into the back of her mind, she headed out, already excited again for the day ahead.

((I know it’s been a lot of Iyaena recently, but she’s so nice to write about, I can’t help it! There is an Aly post and a Lia post in the works, I promise.  @kaldenflintheart for Falkner, @crazyprophet-box-o-plots for Haldreth.))

[everything-you-mist]

Where I Long to Be

Nearly two weeks had passed since Iyaena had left home, twenty-one little packets of medicine gone from her dwindling supply. But what a time it had been! Just a few days of settling in and working at the library before everything exploded around her with murder and intrigue! What a story it would be someday, the week she spent hiding with Kaly from a very powerful cult leader! Of course, it wasn't all fun and games, Iyaena wasn't so naive to think it hadn't been dangerous. It had been a terrifying experience, and along the way, she had begun to finally realize how much her friend had truly changed. Kaly had been kind and quiet to her when they were on their own, but watching her interact with her coworkers and even her father showed how crass and loud she actually was. The cruelty with which she talked with Xylia was baffling to her, after hearing nothing but good about the woman, but what confused her the most was how quickly Kaly could change tunes, as if personalities could be turned on and off to fit the people. So which was real?

They’d spent the week in an inn room (provided by Xylia, she felt she needed to add), and then suddenly everything was back to normal. All Iyaena had really heard was that the man that started the whole thing had died. She and Kaly had returned home and life had gone on. Mrs. Lang had even called on Kaly’s communicator to make sure she was coming to work. And so, the following day, it was off to the library of the Lor…. The Lor...de.. no, that wasn't it. Whatever Ricky’s family did. It was just as well, Iyaena was comfortable among the shelves. Organizing the books was the perfect work for her, quiet and not too physically demanding. If she needed anything overly rough done, there was Mrs. Lang and even Libra to help. Libra was the little construct was always flitting about, her serpentine body twisting and curling on itself as she flew from shelf to shelf with books in tow. Each time Iyaena came to work, it seemed like she was a different color, sometimes green or red, always blue when Mrs. Lang was working, even a starry design that reminded Iyaena of a constellation (and secretly, that one was Iyaena’s favorite). She would always trill a hello when someone from the mysterious Watchers arrived, flying right to them ready to help with whatever they had come for.

Iyaena, however, received no such treatment. Whether because she wasn’t a Watcher, or because she was new, she didn’t know, but Libra didn’t like her one bit. If she caught any mistakes in the shelving order or if she caught Iyaena reading on the job, Libra would sink her teeth into her arms and shoulders, making a strange disappointed sound. It wasn't horrible, the construct was quite small, and she didn't bite very hard, but nonetheless, Iyaena had several marks of disapproval on her arms from just the first few days alone. Mrs. Lang had scolded Libra after the first few bites on Iyaena’s behalf, but the young elf quickly realized Mrs. Lang had about as much say for Libra’s behavior as Iyaena did. The construct seemed to have a mind of her own, and she would treat guests as she pleased.

Iyaena arrived at the library a bit early today, beating Mrs. Lang to their usual meeting spot in Dalaran. It gave her time to finish wolfing down the sandwich she’d snagged on the way and soon enough, the Pandaren shaman arrived and let her into the library as usual. She wandered straight to one of the shelves, picking a few books from a nearby shelf as she explained today’s work.

“I know we’ve been working on the Legion files, but I’d like you to work on the Pandaria section today. I need to take the day for some urgent research, so you’ll be on your own with Libra. Probably best not to work on a half-done section, don’t you think?” Mrs. Lang didn’t even glance at Iyaena as she talked, distracted as usual as she grabbed volume after volume.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Good, good. I’ll leave you to it then. Send Libra out if you have any trouble.” Without so much as a goodbye, Mrs. Lang dashed out, off to do her research, no doubt. She and Libra were left to their own devices now in the warm library and Iyaena wasted no time in making her way over to the scroll cases and bamboo spines of the Pandaria section. Though the shelves were very messy, it was surprising just how small the section was. If she hadn't been looking for it specifically, she wondered if the section would have simply melded into the neighboring Northrend section.

“Why are there so few books about the Pandaren?” Iyaena wondered aloud, more talking to herself than anything. She had never heard Libra speak and she assumed the construct couldn't, even if she had been inclined to give Iyaena the time of day. To her surprise however, Libra looked down at her in recognition of her question, the movement jolted and rippling along her serpentine body as if shocked she’d asked. “Sorry…?” Iyaena tried to backpedal when she realized Libra had been listening but Libra didn't return to shelving. She instead dashed to another shelf and grabbed a book, dropping it in Iyaena’s lap. Prelude to the Sundering, a historical novel. What did this have to do… with…

“You couldn't get books about Pandaria… because the sundering made it too far?” It was an educated guess. Iyaena had read the book but she tended to remember theory better than history. Libra made a disapproving trilling noise, hunting the messy Pandaren shelf for another book, dropping the thin novel on top of the history book. The Burdens of Shaohao… this one was new.

“I don't know this story. Does what happens have something to do with my question?” Libra bobbed, yes it did. Iyaena started to crack open the book but a warning growl forced her to pause. “Well, I won't know what happens if I can't read it.”

Libra huffed, flitting into the shelves again and returning with the most ornate bookmark Iyaena had ever seen. Between gold filigree and the deepest hues of blue ink she’d ever encountered, the bit of thick paper was a majesty to behold. Libra took the time to show the bookmark to Iyaena and flew some distance down the shelf they were to work on, sliding it between two books so it stuck out. She looked back at Iyaena pointedly.

“If I reach the bookmark… I can read the book?” Libra twirled in a tight cyclone of movement, a display Iyaena had only seen her use around the Watchers members that visited. As far as she could tell, it meant she was pleased. “It’s a deal then.” Iyaena dove right into work, not nearly as distracted by the various titles she passed by as she was on other days. Libra fell in beside her, removing books one at a time for Iyaena to shuffle back in at the right place, organizing by subject and author. Properties of the Sha, the Pandaria Campaign, The War Crimes of Garrosh Hellscream, The Order of the Cl-- Iyaena paused, holding the book away from the shelf for a better view. The Order of the Cloud Serpent. The cover was beautiful and ornate, bright red inks outlining a large creature similar to Libra in shape.

“Is this what you are, Libra? A ‘cloud serpent’?” The little construct paused in her task, bouncing her way through the air over to where Iyaena knelt to give an affirmative trill. Reaching down, her delicate claws flipped through the pages to several drawings of the hatchlings of the strange noodle-shaped beasts. From what Iyaena could gather.. Libra was pretty accurate to the real thing. “Can I read this one too, please?”

Libra made a groaning sound, almost like a frustrated sigh as she grabbed the book from Iyaena’s hands and stacked it with the earlier Shaohao book. Back to work then. The hours passed much more quickly with the goal looming closer and closer as the two of them toiled. Mrs. Lang came in a few times, snagged a book or two from their Legion section before dashing back out. Iyaena hardly paid her any mind past a polite hello and goodbye, dashing through her work toward the bookmark. Book after book, shelf after shelf, as the light through the library windows faded and enchanted lanterns flickered to life around them, the two librarians worked until at last… a book about Zouchin was shelved beside the bookmark. It was done.

Libra flew along the finishes shelves, double-checking every volume before she settled on top of a nearby lantern, nodding her approval. Iyaena grabbed the pair of books, starting for a table to start reading, but the Cloud Serpent nipped her sleeve. Iyaena was tugged by the arm to face her toward the entrance where Mrs. Lang, stood, waiting there to escort her part of the way home. The day was already over.

“Ready to go, Iyaena?” Mrs. Lang was nice enough, if not a very distracted person from what Iyaena could tell. She was very soft-spoken and prone to trailing off mid-sentence, a strange vacancy to her smile, as though her mind was always somewhere else. Still, she was kind, and ensured Iyaena had a portal back to the Eastern Kingdoms at the end of each day.

“Yes ma’am. Um.. is it okay if I borrow these for tonight?” Iyaena offered the two books as she trotted over. Mrs. Lang looked at each cover curiously, removing the seals that kept them from leaving the library before handing them back with a soft chuckle.

“And so another teenager falls to the lure of Pandaria. Of course you can borrow them, just be careful with the pages. Those two look fairly old.” There was a strange sharpness to Mrs. Lang today, more awake than Iyaena had ever seen her. “Come along, let’s get you on your way. Is it Ironforge or Stormwind today?”

“Ironforge, please. I want to get started on these books.”

Mrs. Lang nodded, and off they went. As they left the endless shelves behind, the pair found themselves in a secret sanctum the Watchers had in the violet city of Dalaran, only accessible if you had the key. Mrs. Lang had to let her in and out each day, and today was no different as the shaman led the way out of the sanctum and into the shop it connected to, and onward still to the Alliance side of the city, where Iyaena could portal home. On most days, the portal would take her to Stormwind’s Mage District, where Iyaena often spent her evenings listening to the mages of the city discussing their work while she ate dinner at the Blue Recluse. Then it was a long walk home, crossing through the Cathedral and Dwarven districts to the tram and all the way back to Kaly’s house. Tonight though.. It was straight home to the comfort of her sleeping bag and her books.

The house was fairly quiet by the time Iyaena arrived. Mr. Firebeard had finally worn himself out fighting with one of his caretakers, an elf named Ryavin, and was fast asleep. Iyaena waved to her as she went past, heading upstairs and into the hidden parts of their home, careful to keep the entrance closed behind her. Kaly was already a sleeping ball of feathers in the corner, soft snores ruffling them gently where her head was hidden. It was usually like this, the young mage was left to her own devices, free to practice minor spells or as was the case with tonight, read as long as she liked. The Shaohao book looked so interesting, a mural in the styles of stained glass decorating the cover. A Pandaren was front and center, wearing white and gold, but all around him were strange dark shapes, like something out of a nightmare… Iyaena guessed them to symbolize his burdens. But it was the other book that drew her more. Today had been the first day without a new bite from the construct. In fact, Libra had seemed very pleased with her questions about this book in particular.

Iyaena read late into the night, nibbling on a quick meal she had bought on the way home and pausing only to take her evening medication. The story of Ji and Lo was quickly flying up her favorites list, a story of perseverance and a fight against tradition as the first Serpent Rider and her companion came into their own during the Zandalari War. After the story concluded, the book delved into the traditions of being a rider, following the typical serpent from hatchling to adulthood. It talked about how the two communicated with one another, working as one in all situations as they flew over the forest they protected.

“I wonder what that’s like.” Was riding a serpent very bouncy, the way they weaved through the air? Did you get used to it, after a while? Iyaena leaned back on the makeshift sleeping bag Kaly had thrown together for her, her imagination rushing through a hundred ideas. She had to admit, she was jealous of the Serpent Masters of her book. To have a bond like they did, to travel the skies with what must be one of their dearest friends, she could only imagine what an adventure that would be. The more she read about Pandaria and those who lived there, the more it sounded like a wonderful place. Maybe after the invasion was over… Iyaena’s eyes drooped closed against her will, so worn out from the day. Until the Legion was defeated, she could dream about visiting, taking a grand world tour someday. There would be time... later on. It was enough to be out in the world. More than enough.

((Ahh, Iyaena’s so refreshing after Lia’s drama the other day. So nice to just write a slow-paced slice-of-life. Now then... @library-of-the-forgotten for mentions of Xylia and a short appearance from Ryavin~ @crazyprophet-box-o-plots for mentions of Ricky and Haldreth.))

[everything-you-mist]

Farewell

Zan-Wei was dead. The hole in Lia’s heart ensured she couldn't forget that. His end had come quickly at the hands of the Watchers, Kathy delivering a swift mercy in his end. It had to be done. Lia knew this, and it couldn't have been with any more dignity. But her chest ached with grief, one tragedy dwarfing the last, as her life rapidly spiraled. She could only be grateful she was facing this madness as whole as she’d ever been. Lia and Amaai were echoes at the fringes of her subconscious after all the work done to repair the gap. It wasn’t perfect, likely it never would be, but for now.. It was enough to keep her going. Lia had spent much of the evening after Zan’s death running laps around Olivia’s Pond. Focusing on the beat of her paws splashing in the water, she had allowed her mind to drift, to come to terms with everything.

Zan-Wei was dead. In the coming days, Lia planned to submit herself to whatever punishment Sig deemed worth what she’d attempted. Though she had remained loyal in the end, her work with the Claw could not go undiscussed. If she was removed from power, so be it. Between Maaninder and Ebony, the Lor’Verloren would survive until Ricky could rise to his legacy. If he chose to.

Zan-Wei was dead, but the whirlwind of events surrounding that final showdown had revealed to Lia many problems with her parenting. In truth, Lia had failed. So wrapped up in her own troubles, Ricky had been left very much on his own to see to his own survival. She thought about it long and hard as she ran. Lia’s ignorance had allowed him to grow bitter and angry, emotions Laoku would have never allowed to grow to this extent. Laoku would have done much better entirely, if she were honest. But thoughts of him, brought other issues to mind.

Zan-Wei was dead, but Laoku’s body lived on. A demon wreaking havoc, all while wearing her greatest love’s face. By his letter, received earlier that day, that love no longer existed, melded beyond recognition into the dreadlord’s psyche. There was so little to do.. If Laoku couldn’t come back, would he need to meet the same fate as Zan-Wei? A merciful murder, very likely by her hand? Could she do that? Her footfalls grew heavy, her heart sinking into the lake below her as the water lowered her gently from the surface. Grief clouded everything, the questions left for another day.

Zan-Wei was dead.

Zan-Wei was dead.

Zan-Wei was dead… and it was her fault, in the end.  

(( @crazyprophet-box-o-plots for Ricky, Zan-Wei, and Laoku, @ariiasaurusofdino for Kathy, @paksarra for Maaninder mention, @oldwornjournal for Ebony mention @kaldenflintheart for Sig mention))

[everything-you-mist]

[everything-you-mist]

Send me📝 and my muse will reveal their thoughts about your muse.

Their first impression:

Their current impression:

What they like the most about your muse:

What they dislike the most about your muse:

What your muse is for them ( Friend, lover, rival ecc.):

A general opinion of their relationship:

If applicable, something they wish to reveal:

[everything-you-mist]

Ignite

Iyaena let her head and arms hang back off the edge of the loft, holding her book tightly in both hands as she perused the complicated rituals to conjure up a Rune of Power. The new textbook was filled to the brim with useful fire spells, with other disciplines peppered in wherever the authors had deemed them useful or necessary. She really couldn’t believe what she was holding. Not only was it a Mage’s textbook, but an old one, and one that had been given to her by two very kind friends. She still reeled at the memory of its price tag. How Dararoo had been able to afford it was beyond her, but Iyaena was determined to repay her somehow the moment she could afford to.

She hadn’t planned on getting another textbook for several more decades. Her allowance was meager, only a handful of copper each week left over after food and other living expenses. With what little she’d saved, she managed to buy a short novel in Stormwind, something about a creature called a grummle and a coin with two heads, but it had been all she could afford. The mere concept of affording the textbook worth hundreds of gold, to hold this priceless tome in her hands now.. It was more precious than the stars themselves to the young mage.

On the page opposite the Rune of Power, the authors began to go into detail about Hot Streaks, how fire begat fire and how, if done properly, one small flame could birth an inferno. Iyaena read wide-eyed, marveling at the power at the disposal of a fire mage, so much strength from so little.

“How wonderful that must feel,” she mused to herself, “to create so much from one spark.”

And how scary… As much as Iyaena adored the stories of Felo’melorn, so much that her first successful illusions had been dedicated to mimicking the balls of Fire that adorned the heads of those who had wielded the legendary blade, she was familiar enough with it’s stories to know what happened to overly ambitious mages. Playing with Fire tended to end with someone getting burned, often yourself. But how could she resist? After spending eighteen years feeling as delicate as paper, to find something like this that even she could do? How could she not try?

The disturbance of the loose pebble path that lead up to her door shattered the silence, kicking Iyaena into action. The textbook, along with all her notes and materials, were hastily shoved into a trunk and pushed under the bed, a small illusion turning it dark enough to be indistinguishable from the natural darkness surrounding it. Not a moment after the spell was done, the door downstairs opened as her mother let herself into the house.

“Yena! Are you home?” her mother called cheerfully, setting a basket down on her dining table downstairs. “I brought lunch if you’re hungry.”

“I’m here!” Taking one more look to ensure her spell was holding, Iyaena came down the ladder and hugged her mom hello. “Are you off early today, momma?”

“No, I’m afraid not. Poppa and I have the evening shift by the docks and early morning at the gate. We’ll be staying in the barracks tonight.” Iyaena’s mother removed her gauntlets as she spoke, the tall, strong guard of Darnassus sighing as she settled herself into a seat. Iyaena did her best to appear disappointed as she always had, but this was actually good news. The shifts were perfect for sneaking off to Stormwind for another evening of people watching. She was already mentally making her plans when her mother cleared her throat interrupting her.

“I’m not just here for lunch, however, daughter of mine.” Her mother’s voice grew stern, eyeing her daughter critically. “Aya told me something very interesting this morning. She told me the last few times she’s come to check on you in the evening, you haven't been home. Vanished, without a trace. Just where have you been going?”

She was afraid this would happen. Ayanna was a nice enough woman and a very wise physician, and Iyaena knew she meant well, just as her parents did. But under the watchful gazes of all three, her secret wouldn't stay such for long.

“Just for a walk. I’m sorry I missed her.”

“For hours at a time?”

“Just making sure I take plenty of rests, momma. I like to take a book with me, the one with the Aspects in it.”

“Iyaena Illiana Mistscribe, I am certain I didn't raise a liar!” Her mother stood, her expression somewhere between shock and anger. When the full name came out, it was rare to avoid a lecture.. but Iyaena tried anyway.

“Momma, why would I lie? I really am just going on a walk!”

“Oh? Tell me, does a cloaked elf walking around the gate and to where the highborne tend to gather sound familiar? Did you really think just by avoiding mine and your father’s assignments, nobody would recognize you? Just what is on the other side of the portal you keep taking?”

She’d been caught.

“Okay, okay, so my walks have been reeeeally long. I stayed in safe places, I never left the capital cities. Nothing happened! Momma please, I know you’re mad but I had to go the first time, and things worked out so well.. I wanted to go again. Please understand..”

“I cannot believe what I'm hearing! Iyaena, do you even hear yourself? If you were to have complications and Aya wasn't there!”

“They have doctors in Stormwind too!”

“Don't you raise your voice at me, Yena. We have done everything we can to give you as much freedom as possible, but sneaking off? To that hellhole of a city, no less, it’s a miracle you haven't been killed in some dark alleyway yet. Absolutely not, you are forbidden from returning to that place!”

“No! Momma, please, I made so many friends there, I don't want to give them up just like that!”

“You should have thought of that before being sneaky.”

“But.. Momma, there’s--”

“Enough, Iyaena. I’ve already told the mages you’ve been working with not to give you any more portals. You are staying on Teldrassil. For your own sake, for your health’s sake.” Her mom softened, her anger melting into fear and concern. “Please, Iyaena. For mine and your father’s sake. We want you to live a long life… To do that, you need to stay here.”

Even with the pleading tone, her mom left no room for debate. Without the portals, there was no way for Iyaena to leave. She nodded mutely, and her mother nodded in return, satisfied.

“I’m sorry, my heart. I know this is horribly unfair. But what good will Stormwind do you if you get too excited? We’ll try to go somewhere fun a little closer to home when the war dies down. We’ll go to Darkshore for a few days. Okay?”

“Okay..” Iyaena lowered her gaze, mind running at a hundred miles a minute, but her mother didn't seem to notice, giving her a comforting hug.

“I have to get back to work, but when the shifts are both done, poppa and I will make plans with you about Darkshore.” Planting a gentle kiss on her daughter’s head, she let herself out, shutting the door behind her. Iyaena heard her mother’s nightsaber outside, and the light footfalls of their departure, back to the capital.

Finally alone again, Iyaena thought over what had happened. Her mother was right in a lot of ways. The best way to live a long life was here. Stormwind was absolutely dangerous, just about all of Azeroth was. If she had complications while she was on her own, she might not be able to explain what was going on enough to get proper help.

Despite every truth her mother had given her, however, Iyaena had come to a decision. A long life spent in her small safe place was not a life she wanted. She left her lunch in the basket, scrambling back up to her loft and the trunk. She flipped through her textbook’s pages, looking for something, anything that would help her to escape.

“Blazing Barrier, Combus-- Combustion! Oh, now that looks interesting, ‘Engulfs you in..’. Goddess, what a spell!” She shook her head, refocusing on the matter at hand. “Later, later. Flameshock… Oh! Wait, why aren’t I using the index? Honestly.. Come on Iyaena, you’re a better student than this.” She flipped to the back of the book, drawing her finger down the column of topics as she searched. “Okay, let’s see… Enhanced Pyrotechnics, Fireball, Frost Nova, Ice Block.. Ah! Illusions.”

It wasn’t quite the teleporting she was hoping for, but it just meant she wasn’t coming home until she could make her own portals. If she looked like someone else, the highborne wouldn’t even bat an eye when she requested a portal as usual. And fortunately, Iyaena was already familiar with the basics of Illusions. It was just the matter of applying it to herself, to look like someone else.

“Here we go, ‘like the Illusions of the Arcane school, Mirror Images’… No!” Back to the index, it was only mentioned. Iyaena dug through the list concept by concept, line by line… but there was nothing. For a few minutes, Iyaena leaned back in defeat. Now what?

Now… she’d do it the old fashioned way. Run away outright. She wouldn’t be able to take much, the only backpack she had was disappointingly small. She had no money, she’d have to crash with Kaly or something but, there was no other way. Scrambling around her home, she gathered up a few robes and personal items, her two textbooks.. What else could fit? Paper, a few pens.. Her medication! She grabbed the small packet Aya had left and found it disappointingly light.. Another time limit.

She paused, her mind catching up with her heart. Before she could come home, she needed to learn how to teleport. She had a limited amount of time to learn before her medication ran out. If it ran out… She would need to find a physician in Stormwind that could fill it, or come home defeated. If she found a physician in Stormwind, she’d need to pay them. With money she didn’t have. She’d also need to eat.

If Ricky and Dararoo’s friends let her work.. She could start working right away and take lessons in the evening, but if she only took lessons at night, that’s half the time she could be studying. Round and round her logic went, things seeming more and more hopeless with every moment. Could she even do this? She had to hope a mage was listening on the little communicator she was given to even get started.. What if no one cared?

But she had to try. Iyaena walked out the front door, pausing only to the lock the door for perhaps the first time. She held the little device to her face and spoke quietly, not daring to hope just yet. “If any mages are listening, could you open a portal near Darnassus? I need to get to Stormwind.”

((Done and done! I’ve fallen in love with Iyaena very quickly, the kind of adventure-hungry character I’ve been seriously lacking in my character list. But, a falling out with mom here was bound to happen, kids don’t just run off without somebody noticing. She should be fiiiine... I hope.

@library-of-the-forgotten for Dararoo mention and @crazyprophet-box-o-plots for Ricky mention!))