#Allaea Stagthorn

[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]

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]

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]

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]

Here Lies Everything

When Aly dreamed about becoming Dark Thane someday, this was not what she had in mind. Haldreth was dying, some of his last words naming her acting Thane… Naming her full Thane upon his death. It had been hours and hours of stressful waiting, Aly only leaving her corner of Atun’s home to fetch coffee, mana potions or food for the large gathering of healers attempting to save her dad. She had always known her ascension would means Haldreth’s death, fel, before apprenticeship became familial, she had planned to take him out herself.

But she had allowed herself to get comfortable with having him in her life. Haldreth had become more than her teacher. He was her father, her loved father, and she needed to point that out to herself, the concept only months old. She loved him. The idea that a parent could be chosen was so foreign to her. That they could become a foundation, not just someone that dictated your life, told you to eat your veggies and try not to die.

Aly’s life had changed so rapidly since Haldreth pushed his way into it. Looking back, she could barely recognize the Firelands-damned street rat she had been at the start. And yet, here she stood. Or sat, rather. Aly had lost track of how many people were gathered around Haldreth. Some were familiar, she saw Ryavin, Kiras and Dkaa, Gervas and Ashoka. A few Pandaren were mixed in, Lia and a red Pandaren that struck Aly as familiar but… no, she couldn't remember. People she didn't know were here, a lot of them. Haldreth didn't seem the type to have this many friends. Was the procedure that complicated? Was he that screwed? Healers calling friends and those friends calling friends until any onlooker would wonder if the healers were having a damn convention?

They’d been at this since last night, working straight through to dawn. The floor was riddled with holes where acidic parasites had died, bursting as they left Haldreth’s body one by one, agonizingly slowly. Aly could feel her stress weighing on her, forcing her eyelids down as she fought against exhaustion. She had to stay awake! She had to make sure he lived! She--

Aly woke up in her corner, covered with a blanket. Someone had removed her glasses and placed them beside her, safely up on a chair on top of a red envelope and some kind of knit thing. She ignored much of the stack for the moment, reaching for her glasses to survey everything with better clarity. Everything was quiet. A mound of people, too tired to make their way to actual beds, slept in a pile before the fireplace. Aly supposed healers didn't have a care for personal space on the job. Only a few healers were awake, talking quietly in conversational tones near where Haldreth was laid out. There had to be thousands of little pock-marks on Atun’s floor, the remnants of Haldreth’s affliction, but with her glasses on, Aly could see the rise and fall of his chest. He had survived, at least for now. It was a relief, to put it lightly. Slinking to the floor, Aly shifted and crept over to Haldreth on silent paws, curling up close. Unlike healers, Aly disliked being touched by others, but this was a special case. Her need to make sure Haldreth stayed alive far outweighed her usual need to keep distant. With one large paw over his hand, she let herself drift off again, for once comforted by the connection.

((Next post was supposed to be Iyaena but then a CrazyBomb got dropped! Iyaena’s coming, juuuust a little later now. So many people to flag, let’s see..

@library-of-the-forgotten for Ryavin mention

@crazyprophet-box-o-plots for Haldreth

@javadruid for Gervas

@kirasnyethescienceguy for Kiras

@paksarra for Ashoka and Atun

@altain-phoenix for Dkaa

Phew... Hope I didn’t miss anyone. Thanks for helping save our resident dwarf <3))

[everything-you-mist]

How Far I’ll Go

Why was she back here? Aly had been in a bit of a haze for a while now, the stress ever mounting, nothing resolved. But something had broken and she’d just gotten up from the table she recently frequented at one of Dalaran’s libraries, picked up her books and walked out without thinking about it. She’d walked right past the base, out of the city through a portal to Darnassus, walked straight out the front gate and back to Dolanaar without even a thought as to why.

It was nearly dawn when she arrived, arms full of book, and headed to the large root she used to nap under as a kid near her childhood home. It was too small to crawl underneath now, but she settled herself against the trunk of the great tree and cracked open her book for the millionth time as though the change of location would make it easier. She had stacks of druid books she should have been reading. She could be studying. But instead, she was fighting her way through a first year arcane book. It was a pathetic gift to give Ricky, the longer she thought about it. She could have given him any book, but instead she got this noble idea to read it herself, to know something of what the mages do, to be able to respond when he talked about magic. It had seemed like a great gift when she started. But, with seven years since her last book, it proved to be more of a challenge than she’d realized. She was on page four, and Winter’s Veil was over.

Aly sighed heavily, curled up for minutes trying to pronounce the word ‘cascade’ and actually know what it said. She was about to give up and move on when she heard the grass nearby shift under someone’s foot. That someone gasped, questioning with a whispery female voice.

“Impossible… Kally? Is that you?”

Aly looked up to the voice, belonging to a familiar girl several hundred years older than Aly. She stood just a little shorter than Aly was now, silver-blue hair shorn at shoulder length and kept out her her face with an inlaid silver hairband. Iyaena Mistscribe had changed very little since Aly had last seen her, save the addition of green-hued facial tattoos that marked her as an adult. They had been friends what felt like centuries ago, before the Cataclysm struck and carried Aly away. Seeing her now, after so much had happened, Aly could only sputter the beginnings of words as she struggled to express her shock. Iyaena had no such trouble, screeching in excitement and running right up to her to envelop her in a warm embrace. Aly froze up immediately, but Iyaena didn’t seem to notice, launching into a tirade.

“Elune be praised, you’re alive! I can’t believe it! When you jumped off Teldrassil and flew away, I was certain you were going to die on Mount Hyjal, but here you are! How long has it been? Seven years? Eight? And look at you! All tall in those fancy robes! Where have you been all this time? What have you been doing? And.. Goddess, those tattoos! They don’t look Kaldorei at all, do they? Oh well, maybe a little but.. Come on Kally, tell me everything!”

Aly couldn’t comprehend what was happening. She had thrown this life away, she hadn’t thought of anyone she’d left behind in so many years, and suddenly, here she was! Aly untangled herself from the hug, staring at Iyaena in utter shock as she fought to process.

“I… Iyaena, hi.”

The struggled words were met with confusion all over Iyaena’s face as she took a step back, looking Aly over critically this time.

“Goddess, you’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?” Her voice this time was quiet, gentle. It was more familiar, the quick-witted scholar had always been calm and quiet when they were younger. Aly simply nodded, and Iyaena nodded in return, climbing up onto the root and pulling her knees up to her chest.

It was familiar, the way they sat together, and Aly was reminded of all the times she had told everything to this elf girl. Iyaena had been a sickly child, unable to run and play with the other children because of her heart. She’d explained what was wrong with it to Aly before, but as a child, she hadn’t understood. Iyaena had a tendency to use words she picked up from her reading, words an eight-year-old druid couldn’t hope to understand. All Aly knew is that it was weak, and she couldn’t run for long before dizziness and shortness of breath forced her to stop, so she grew up looking out her window and being lonely.

At the same time, Aly’s caretaker Tanaver, worked her hard throughout the day. By the time Aly was finished with her lessons, the day was gone and most kids were at home. She would wander alone along the lakeside or through the hidden paths under the roots and between the rocky outcroppings of Teldrassil, until one day, their paths crossed. Iyaena, having a rare day of going outside, had been reading on the very root that they now sat on. They had talked, and expressed their frustrations with the hand they’d been dealt, and that was that, the friendship was made. The two met whenever Iyaena’s health allowed her and the two would talk late into the night.

Today was no different. Aly told Iyaena far too much. She talked about the Firelands, and the deaths of her caretakers (to Iyaena’s horror), careful to hide her time as a Druid of the Flame. She talked about her new name, Haldreth and her adoption, leaving out the details of the stone and her insanity, skipping Pengfei entirely. She told her about Israva’s reappearance, about Dararoo and Ricky and Anara. As the day wore on, she told her about the Wildhammer, and the Watchers, and her new responsibilities while her father grew more and more reclusive as stress-filled tears pricked at the corners of her eyes and Iyaena just listened, nodding from time to time, speaking only to ask for a detail here and there and to chide her for her language. As Aly’s story wound down, Iyaena only smiled with a strange pride.

“So much in only seven years.”

“Well, what about you?”

“Me? Oh, nothing changes in Dolanaar, Kally. The moon still comes up, and I’m still here reading about lives much more exciting than mine.”

“Wait, seriously nothing? What about getting out? Going to Darnassus, getting on a boat?”

“Ah, well, I’m here, aren’t I?” Iyaena’s proud smile melted into melancholy. “I can do a few tricks now, at least. Turned out I have a knack for magic after momma got me a couple spellbooks.” She held out her hands, a small water elemental gathering itself in her palms. “See?”

Aly could only stare. Iyaena had been smart when she’d known her, and had clearly only gotten smarter. It seemed horribly unfair. Of all the people that deserved to get out into the world, it hadn’t been Aly. Not the scrappy young kid that shouldn’t have been there in the first place. Iyaena loved her books, her stories of far-off places, daring swordfights, dragons and princes. She had wanted to see the world so badly and she was still here.

She was still here.

“You’ve changed so much, Kally.. Look at those hands, your face.” Iyaena paused a moment, leaning in to inspect her. “Goddess, you have a black eye! So many adventures.. you’re so lucky! Why would you ever come back?”

“I… I don't know.” Aly realized how true it was as she said it. Why had she come back?

“Well, you’re staying with me tonight, that’s for certain. I have my own place now, with a loft! We’ll throw a whole bunch of blankets and pillows up there, it’ll be great.”

Aly’s first instinct was to decline. She should be in Dalaran, there was too much going on! There were demons to kill! But, as she thought about it, the better it sounded. Why not spend one night? What would it harm?

“Okay.”

Iyaena took her home, to a small house on the edge of town, outfitted with a small kitchen and the promised loft. It was small, but comfortable, and filled to capacity with books. Every flat surface had at least one on it, and every shelf was packed tightly with large volumes. They had a light dinner, reminiscing over childhood romps and talking about the other kids Aly barely remembered and what became of them. Aly was surprised how many had left to become soldiers and adventurers, never to return.

“It’s quiet as usual, here. And, you know,” Iyaena crosses her arms on the table, laying her head atop them. “Maybe that’s something you need. Sounds like your plate is overflowing. Why not take a trip? Someplace quiet, somewhere away from the action. Maybe walk some of Kalimdor, south of Hyjal. Or north of Hyjal, I bet Winterspring is great right now. Maybe even wander around here. I know the house you lived in isn't yours anymore, but you’re welcome to sleep here if you want.”

It sounded nice.. Ignore everything going on, vanish for a little while.. But she couldn’t. Not with her dad the way he was, not right now. Then again… That’s when Aly got an idea. A wonderful, irresponsible idea.

“You know what, Iyaena, you’re right. In fact, I’m going to go right now. Do you have some paper I can use?”

Iyaena looked surprised Aly had given in so easily. She handed her the paper mutely, a curious look replacing her surprise as Aly got to work.

Dear Dararoo,

I need a favor. I need a few days off, away from everyone. I promise, I’ll finish my work, I’m going to be staying at Everlook, you can still send mail and stuff, and for emergencies, comm is on. But I could use a break. This is Iyaena, she’s a childhood friend of mine. (Shocking, I know, shut up.) She’s never left our town so, figured she could deliver it. Don’t kill her, ‘kay?

Aly

“My boss is a chick named Dararoo Riversong. She’s probably in Stormwind, take this to her, okay?”

“Wait, what? Kally, you couldn’t possibly mean.. I can’t! I’ve never even left the village.”

“And you never will, at this rate! C’mon, do this for me. Do it for you, if nothing else.”

((Dun dun dun.This ah.. Didn’t go the way I planned. Iyaena was supposed to be a one-off voice of reason to get Aly to go relax so she doesn’t melt down again, but I kinda fell in love with her. So she is free! So Aly gets a short break to recharge and be a good leader, while this newbie finally leaves her hometown. Let’s see how long it takes to corrupt her. (Oh dear.) 

@oldwornjournal for Anara,

@crazyprophet-box-o-plots for Haldreth and Ricky

@library-of-the-forgotten for Dararoo))

[everything-you-mist]

Here Comes a Thought

Aly had been fond of small spaces for as long as she could remember. Under beds, nestled between tree roots or branches, even small corners offered that secure feeling. She was cornered, sure, but nothing could sneak up on her, she could see everything she needed to. It simplified things. Roo’s panic room was especially good at this, once the more plush objects were scooted out of the way. Curled up between the pile of blankets and pillows, and the cold wall, her panic last night had finally abated. It was comfortable, at least as much as it could be. Aly hated being still like this, however, especially for the extended time it would take before she could get back to work.

She was stuck. It happened sometimes, usually to fatigued or inexperienced Druids. It had happened to Aly before, trapping her in bird or cat form if she pushed herself too far when she was young. But this was different. It wasn't fatigue, it was stupidity. Aly was stuck between forms, her usual cat form covered in feathers, her mouth and vocal chords closer to a bird than the tiger-like maw needed for her usual chuffing and snarling. A fight, earlier in the evening, had begun suddenly and in an attempt to prove something to herself, Aly had tried to directly shift from bird to cat. Halfway through the process, she suddenly realized she wasn't sure how and panicked. Nothing more than instinct had pulled her to the closest form possible, a shape similar to her pet Hamish, and now she was stuck that way until she had enough of an understanding of her new form to get out of it.

She had no one to blame but herself, she had always been fine with a quick shift to her original shape before, but her recent time among other Druids had done nothing but highlight the gaps in her education. Aly had been a Druid for ten years, starting earlier than any of the other students she’d met. So when her classmates could shift directly, and some even speak in their animal shapes, it bothered Aly greatly.

It was somewhat new, that strange desperate need for the approval of strangers. It had started a few weeks prior, her father’s recent seclusion kept her busy keeping the Mer’Catharn running, but it filled her with anxiety and an urgent need to keep too busy for idle thought. The feelings weren't all that new to the young elf, but she disliked them all the same. She felt lonely, filling in for the Dark Thane in his position, and that loneliness was only multiplied on her weekend trips to the groves of Val’Sharrah, where she studied in isolation. Her Shan’do, Essie, was still missing, even after Xavius’s defeat, and her peers, upon seeing her scars and tattoos, gave her a wide berth.

She could feel their disapproval boring into her back as she read and practiced. Aly wondered why, briefly.  Fear she could understand, but disapproval? Was it her facial tattoos? They were clearly untraditional, the dwarven influences shining through unmistakably. She’d been in a few scuffles before over that choice with the dwarves back at the Aerie, and in one full on fight just a few days prior against one of the braver Druid students. The young elf had proclaimed her a traitor to her heritage, and told her, if she ‘was so fond of the stubby race, go be a shaman and leave the true elves to nature’s call’.

The two had come to blows shortly after, but the student was clearly more advanced than Aly. The long drawn-out fight ended with Aly on her back with a large gash on her chin and a swollen black eye. It had been something of a turning point, all of her anxiety and loneliness choosing a new name for itself: Shame. She’d been through so much, more than any of these students could ever dream. Years in the Firelands, hunting to survive, feeding off creatures never meant to be eaten, she was more in touch with her cat form than any of them. If they’d been nightsabers and not people, she would have triumphed easily. But this student hadn't stayed in one form, he was constantly changing between all of them. She’d take a swipe at a bear only to meet the air as her opponent soared out of reach in a well timed bird form, and only moments later feel the burn of claws cutting into her face as the bird form was swapped for cat and dropped on her. She hadn't stood a chance.

Her defeat was only the latest in a string of inadequacies, to make matters worse. Something had shifted in her mother’s demeanor. Where before she had been simpering and apologetic to a fault, fleeing at the first swipe from Aly, she’d begun to stand her ground, even dodge and fight back. Never injure, Aly was fairly certain she’d implode if she landed a hit, but Israva was no longer fleeing, instead parrying and dodging Aly’s attacks. Now it was Aly that would flee when she realized the demon hunter wasn't going to leave on her own.

She’d yet to talk to Ricky about Ellie’s photograph either. It bothered her of course, Ellie kissing Ricky only to send the evidence to Aly. It was dirty playing, and Aly was eager for revenge on her.. but it had been sent more than a month ago, and it continued to burn a hole in her pocket, still unmentioned to Ricky. Aly refused to lie to herself about it, she was afraid of it. Dararoo and Haldreth had given her the words she needed to express her dislike of the photo to Ricky, she was fairly confident she could explain herself, but the photo still bothered her. She was afraid that this kind of physical contact was normal for humans. Would he be offended that she was uncomfortable with something so basic? Would it be seen as possessive?

It only made it worse to have physical proof that Ellie may very well be better for him. Aly was acutely aware that this sort of contact, this simple gesture of kissing his cheek, was impossible for her. It took everything Aly had to accept physical contact at all. Hugs from the more touchy-feely members of the Watchers exhausted her as she fought every instinct to pull away and hide. Even Roo and Anara, who Aly felt a kind of kinship with, like sisters, tired her out. Ricky would understand her shortcomings, Wonder Boy always understood, but that didn't make it right. What kind of girlfriend couldn't even hold hands? Aly was left in an unwinnable state. She had no intention of giving up, she wanted this to work somehow. But the knowledge that Ricky might not end up happy nagged at her, and continued to grow in that part of her mind that came to call whenever Aly was still. Like now, curled in on herself in the corner of Roo’s panic room.

Shame, fear and loneliness swirled like dark clouds behind her eyes, and the more she tried to shove them down, to stop thinking about them, the more they grew. Aly tried everything to distract herself. She pounced the pile of cushions, paced the room end to end, even struck at the wall, leaving white scratches in it and causing her claws to throb and ache. Nothing worked. Until she could shift back, until she could leave and get back to work, she was stuck in this haze. There was nothing to do but curl back up.. and wait.

(( @library-of-the-forgotten for Roo and her hospitality.

@oldwornjournal for mentions of Anara

@crazyprophet-box-o-plots for Haldreth, Ricky and Ellie (And for asking if I planned on writing anything soon. Which, I wasn’t. But then it got me thinking. And this happened. Whoops.) ))

[everything-you-mist]

Two Steps Forward, Two Steps Back

Seradane was a great place, in Aly’s opinion. As long as she stayed on the western side, of course, memories of Nesrom weren’t so long ago to feel exactly comfortable near his old stomping grounds. Still, the great tree was a welcome sight, and with Aerie Peak only a short flight away, it was already starting to feel like a second home as she flew loops and flips between the trees, stretching her wings after weeks of being grounded on the Broken Isles. Flight was just too risky in the places she worked in. Demonic Fel Bats were everywhere, just waiting for the free meal a lone druid would mean. Out here though, the threat seemed almost distant, something she could put aside for the day and just soar to her heart’s content.

She had intended on staying airborne all day if she could, but the mindless travel was interrupted a few hours in when she caught sight of a dark figure on the edge of her vision, slowly making their way across the river on the rickety troll-made bridge. Aly twisted her body, angling her wings into a banked turn to get a better look at the intruder. Many details were lost to the long hooded cloak the woman wore, but the horns poking through were unmistakable. Israva had arrived in the Hinterlands. Not surprising, really. She seemed pretty eager to help the Watchers, no doubt she’d left Dalaran the moment word got out about Arathi. But what was she doing here? Haldreth had arranged for the Watchers to stay at the aerie, disguised as hired mercenaries. Was she lost?

Aly landed in a nearby tree, quietly watching her progress. No.. she wasn’t lost. Demon Hunters were blind, sure, but they didn’t act that way. She had to know she was walking into a valley, there was no way out on the other side. Israva walked at an easy pace, right up to Seradane herself, leaning on one of the pillars that flanked the gateway to the Dream and letting herself slide down to sit on the ground.

“Hello, Aly,” She called out once she was settled. Well, so much for staying hidden. Aly had been silent, flapping from tree to tree, but she’d still noticed her presence. Though Aly didn't come down or acknowledge her, Israva continued talking anyway. “I’m sorry. I’ll leave in a few minutes, I promise.” Aly felt a brief flush of satisfaction over the idea that Israva finally understood that she wasn’t wanted.. But, the timing was actually good. For once, Aly did want to talk to her. Kind of. Okay, she didn’t really want to talk to her, but she had questions, and Haldreth thought it was a good idea.. So Aly let herself fall from her perch, shifting back just before hitting the ground rolling, ending up standing right in front of her mother.

“What’re you doing here? Everyone’s meeting out west.” Aly folded her arms, not bothering to mask the accusations in her voice.

“I know, I’m sorry. I heard there was an entrance to the Dream here and I wanted to visit.” Israva’s smile was only half-there, a weird far away look to her expression.

“You’re not a druid.”

“No.. but your father was.” Her dad was a druid? Aly hadn’t even thought about it. Israva’s choice of foster parents made a little more sense, but.. Bah, let it be. Thinking about the Starseekers would only make Aly angry. That aside.. Aly had no memory of Israva, not really. But she had remembered her dad, somehow. Was that important?

“Tell me about him.” The words tumbled out, and Aly could see the shock on Israva’s face.

“Really? Well.. Althallas, he was.. Where to begin.” Israva paused as she gathered her thoughts, tilting her head back against the pillar as she thought. “He had green hair, light, like the beginnings of spring. Light skin too, not unlike yours. You take after him quite a bit, actually, in a lot of ways. Your smile is like his..” Aly fidgeted, uncomfortable with the comparison.

“You uh… you loved him, right?”

“Yes…? Of course I did.” Israva seemed almost offended, her voice full of confusion.

“What do you do with that? Love, I mean. Like how do you act, what do you say?” Aly fidgeted more but Israva sat up a bit, blind eyes staring into her soul, as if she could see. It was unnerving.. But Aly stood strong.

“K--Aly.. Are you dating?”

“No! Yeah. Kinda?” There was no use hiding it, this was why she was here! But it didn’t make things any easier. Asking anything meant giving Israva more details to use, more information about her life that Aly didn’t want her knowing at all.

“Is it that human boy? The mage?” It didn’t help that Israva was already a stalker.. When had she met Ricky, anyway?

“You have a problem with that?”

“No, no. That’s not what I mean. He seems like a nice boy.” Israva stood, chuckling quietly to herself. “Do you mind if we walk? I’d like to visit the coast before the sun goes down.”

“Kay…” Aly kept a good few feet between them as they walked, heading back toward the bridge. “So, what do I do with it?”

“With dating? Well… you date. You get to know each other, you spend time together. It’s just like having a friend but with a little more. Just enjoy each other’s company, I mean, you’re too young to really worry about the next few steps, so have fun.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“You’re only sixteen Aly, it’s too early to be completely serious. You date around, you get an idea of who you want to spend your life with.” Aly kept a straight face, but she was laughing on the inside. As if there were other guys in her life. This advice idea was sounding worse and worse.

“Okay… but what about later? How did you know Althallas was right?”

“Well.. there was a feeling, when he was close by. He’d only be in town a few weeks out of the year, he was a caravan guard. But when he’d come over that ridge and his eyes met mine.. my heart would almost sigh in relief. No matter what I was going through, it was okay when he was near.” Aly’s frown deepened. It all sounded so flowery and cute. Nothing like what Aly had experienced. Ricky didn't make problems go away, they were still there. But… the sighing fit. She did relax when he came by, usually.

“And it worked, right? I mean, until.. you know.” Aly wasn't sure why she was tiptoeing around like this. Maybe to keep Israva talking, she wasn't sure.

“... Yes. We were very happy, all the way to the end.” Israva rested her hand over a bump in her shirt, seemingly without thinking about it.

“What’s that?” Israva started a bit at Aly’s question, seeming to come back to reality a bit. In response, she reached down the collar and removed the necklace hidden there. The rock held by the tarnished silver chain was familiar to Aly, the dark stone was a twin to her own. It was roughly hewn, not polished or shaped in any way, but it shone with the flecks of white mixed into the black rock.

“This? He gave it to me, instead of a ring. I can't remember what he called it, but the poetic reason was more important. He told me that no matter how far we travelled apart, the stars would guide us back.” Israva tilted her head back, blindfolded eyes gazing up at the darkening sky, the oranges and violets threatening to fade into dusk. “It was a great comfort to me.”

“Well that’s.. kinda dumb,” Aly muttered. She hadn't meant for Israva to hear but her chuckling told Aly she had.

“Perhaps, but it meant the world to me. I gave his to you when I left, did they let you keep it?”

“I have it, yeah.” Aly kept the gem on a hook under her shoulder guard, next to her two communicators. The rough stone was just too uncomfortable against her weakened sternum to wear. She unhooked it, showing it to Rava. “So this was his?”

“It was, yes.. was there a reason you kept it?”

“Felt like shifting was easier if I had it. S’habit now, I guess.” Aly shrugged, comparing the two stones idly. They were likely two halves of a larger stone, the way one side was smooth on each of them, while the others remained jagged.

“It wouldn't surprise me if he enchanted it. He dabbled in that from time to time, when he could get the materials for it.” Aly could feel Israva’s gaze on the necklace, but she couldn't guess what she was thinking.

“Do you want it back?”

“No, please keep it. I think he’d be proud. He used to fantasize about your future all the time. When you were little, he would pick you up as soon as you were awake and he’d just carry you everywhere. He never wanted to put you down, telling you all the things you might become…”

“Sounds clingy.” Aly did her best to sound impassive but a cold feeling bloomed in her chest, the same sadness she felt when she thought about Pengfei.

“Well.. perhaps. I’m sorry, I’m rambling” Israva trailed off as their walk came to an end at the cliff overlooking the sea. Aly heard Israva take a deep breath, letting it out in a heavy sigh as she settled into silence. Aly let it persist for a minute or two.. but her questions came rolling out before too long.

“So how did you make it work? Did you fight ever? What did you do?”

“Oh we argued, of course. Neither of us were perfect. But we didn't have to be. The key, I think, was priorities.”

“Priorities?”

“Yes. No matter the topic, we were what was most important, even if we didn't agree. If you sacrifice everything for him, and he does the same to you, nothing can come between you.” There was that word again. Sacrifice. The moment Israva uttered it, Aly could feel her anger growing. Sacrifice, what a stupid concept. What a stupid, selfish, prideful concept.

“You can’t be serious..” Aly did her best to keep her anger out of her voice but she saw Israva’s shoulders tense. She knew.

“Perfectly serious, why?”

“How long were you together?”

“A few years before he died.”

“Ah.. that makes more sense. Not enough time for it to fuck up.” Aly’s voice grew bitter as her temper rose.

“What do you mean by that?” Israva’s tone grew guarded and fearful, only pushing Aly forward.

“You really like that word, don’t you? ‘Sacrifice’. It’s so noble, so dramatic. Makes things you do less horrible, doesn’t it? Because you did it for someone else.”

“Aly, that’s not--”

“Sacrifice is the key to a good relationship, that’s such bullshit! It worked so well for you, didn’t it? Were you proud of yourself then? When you ‘sacrificed’ me for your crusade?”

“Kaleala, please stop! Let me explain!” Israva reached for Aly’s shoulder, desperate to backpeddle, her voice filled with a frustration and despair that Aly couldn't mistake. But she had had enough.

“Don’t touch me!” Her rage dripped from every word and her claws were out in an instant, her feline shape’s roar echoing through the pine trees as she shifted and lashed out at the demon hunter. Israva’s armor was scarce, protection forgone for speed, and Aly’s attack connected with ease. The claws tore four jagged furrows across Israva’s stomach as easily as butter. Israva curled in on herself with a cry of pain, arm rapidly pressed tightly against the wound as she backed away. For a brief moment, Aly’s anger overtook reason.This woman had been the cause of everything that had ever happened to her, this weak, pathetic demon. She curled her lip, exposing her teeth as a growl rumbled in the back of her throat. She deserved this! Aly moved forward, prepared to cause even more damage, but then..

“Was yer mother right tae do what she did? Nay. She was selfish, stupid and arrogant. And she deserves wha' she's gettin'. But I don't reckon fer one minute it was because of a lack of love.” Haldreth’s words echoed, last night’s conversation rattling in her head and she paused, mid-step, and her rage quickly dwindled. He was right. Her mother was an idiot, and an ass. But…

Aly didn’t finish the thought, kicking off with her hind legs to barrel into the undergrowth, away from Israva and back to Haldreth’s home in the west. Back to safety, back to dad... She’d figure it out there.

(( @crazyprophet-box-o-plots for Haldreth and Ricky~

OH DEAR GUYS. I don’t know if we made progress or things just got worse! It’s hard to tell with these two... ))

[everything-you-mist]

Another Decision

Haldreth was already asleep when Aly flapped home, the small rented room in Dalaran filled with the rumbles of his snores. From bird at the windowsill to hunger-pang framed elf she shifted, creeping quietly over the soft purple carpet to the end of Haldreth’s bed. A few thick comforters and blankets were left stacked for her, ready to be shaped into the odd little nest she preferred over a mattress. As she settled the blankets into the right shape, her glasses threatened to slip down her nose, the edge of one of the lenses reminding her what they were and how she’d come by them a few days ago. The memory set her heart bursting into happy fluttering as she thought back.

“And I was wondering…. if you’d want to try being… you know… more than friends.”

Ricky. Coffee had turned into dinner, which turned into a date without either consciously trying. By the end of the trip, they were official. Aly had a boyfriend, and not just anyone, oh no, she had Ricky the wonder boy, one of the most important people in her life. The glasses were of his design, the boy somehow gleaning just how frustrated she was with her weak elven eyes.

She glanced up, catching her reflection in the dark mirror in the corner of the room. Her messy white hair was starting to get long, the beginnings of curls spilling over the top of the glasses frames. Those frames were thick enough to partially hide the pronounced ridges of her cheekbones, hiding the years of malnutrition and giving them an illusion of softness… She watched her double’s lips curl up into a smile, taking in Ricky’s handiwork. It had been like a dream, standing with him near Ashamane’s Fall. He’d called her smart? Cool…? Aly didn’t know what to do with such compliments, how to even respond.

Even within such happiness though, she could feel the cold of panic in the bottom of her heart at the very idea of this new relationship. If she were honest, she was terrified of the whole thing and there wasn’t really anywhere to look for help. Haldreth was single, Lia and Laoku were biased, all of her friends were either single, gay or didn’t care and the other Watchers weren't… friends. Aly was pretty sure they all thought of her as a ticking time bomb. They hadn’t been proven wrong in the past… The only one she could ask, the only person she knew of with any kind of good experience was…

Israva. Her mom. Far as Aly had gathered, she and her birth-dad had gotten on fine until he died. Of all the people qualified enough to give relationship advice, it’d be her. But that would mean actually talking to her, allowing her into some part of her life, and that was another entire debate on it’s own.

And even with inexperience put aside, there was Suramar. Oh yes, the great Nightborne city had filled Aly’s days for weeks before she’d come home to think it over. Working with Dararoo and the demon hunter Saelron, Aly had been building her plan to sneak into Nightborne society for some time now, searching for a noble whom she could kill and assume their identity.

She had found Valtrys Leysinger, an assassin’s dream come true. She was a young upstart of Shal’dorei society, not too high to be incredibly well known, but not too low to not be worth the effort of tracking her routine. She was a declared loyalist to Elisande’s decisions, and had already accepted the fel infusion gifts of the city’s guests, the sickly green attire worn like peachick feathers against her dark features. There were whispers in the court about her storied ruthlessness, a woman with a shrewd ability for command. She wasn’t particularly strong, she had little skill with the blade or spell, but she had a head for scheming and planning, the cunning socialite a true master of social poisons, rumors and well placed doubts to drag down her political opponents.

She was young and beautiful, but not without a rebellious streak, often ditching the bodyguards assigned to her by her father by way of her acrobatics across the city’s rooftops. Once away, she enjoyed walking along the canals in solitude, away from her peers and, more importantly, away from the patrolling city guards. But she was careless with her route, spending far too much time away from quick help and leaving ample opportunity for attack. Killing her would be so easy, the noble was practically gift-wrapped!

However, she was not irredeemable. Valtrys was cunning, yes. Careful with her words, calculating, cold when she needed to be, but she was not unfeeling. There was a reason for her steady climb, her fight to the top, and his name was Elendes. Elendes awaited her at the end of her wanderings each day, their secret trysts the very core of Valtrys’s decisions. He was very high on the proverbial food chain of Suramar, the difference between their stations just too far of a stretch to be acceptable to his house. But Valtrys didn’t care. If the house wouldn’t accept her, then she would climb the social ladders until they did. The lovebirds would whisper each day of her progress, of how she drew ever closer to the upper houses of their society, how they would be together in the not so distant future in a marriage that would satisfy their fathers.

Elendes ruined the entire thing. Aly had found Valtrys by chance, the lone nightborne had stuck out on the empty back roads in her green apparel, it had been perfect! But her evening of tracking was spoiled as Aly crouched in a nearby planter as Valtrys went inside to meet him, keen feline ears picking up on their whispers. She hadn’t joined the Legion for power, but merely as a piece of the puzzle, another rung on the ladder toward what she believed would be her happiness. Even if Aly could put that aside and kill her anyway for her disguise, the relationship only complicated matters. If Valtrys didn’t show, it was certain to put Elendes on alert, and with someone so high up showing concern, word was sure to get to dangerous ears sooner or later. If Aly took her face, the meetings would have to continue, and no one would be better equipped to see through Aly’s facade than a lover.

On the other hand, viable targets had been scarce. Other potential women Aly had followed were always escorted by groups of servants or guards, opportunities to strike at these girls would be difficult to come by, especially with no witnesses. If Aly was to take their place, the kill had to be silent, they had to be alone. No matter where she went, who she followed, she always found herself coming back to Valtrys, the unlucky love fool who likely had no idea what she really had gotten herself into.

All of that hardly matter, though. To take Valtrys’s place would be impossible. How could Aly possibly pretend to love Elendes right after everything that had happened with Ricky? And worse, she had no doubt that the moment she stepped into the role, Ellie, Ricky’s damnable snake of a schoolmate, would swoop in and undo everything from the last few days. But in the same vein, there were no other good targets, no other plan nearly as plausible. So should she just forget the whole thing? But what about Nor’thalin? What if Mairethma never recovered? Roo had no desire to kill anyone, but what if that’s what needed to be done? If Aly chose to abandon this route and they never got back Roo’s uncle or her mother’s magic, would she ever forgive her? Fel, would Aly forgive herself?

And as terrifying as both choices could be, that wasn’t what horrified Aly the most. The worst thing was the choice itself. Aly had thought about the problem for days now, and she refused to settle one way or the other out of fear of being wrong. She’d never been lucky with making decisions, someone always got hurt, herself included. It always ended in disaster… Follow the parents to Hyjal? Parents end up dead. Become a Druid of the Flame? One mistake, and the power source is gone. Get a new power source? Go insane, nearly die, and get a permanent hole in the sternum where the power source had sat. Over and over again, any decision she made taught her just how wrong she could be.

The longer she dwelt on it, the more Aly felt the panic rising in her throat, the familiar desire to run away rearing it’s head in the back of her mind. She got as far as standing before her reflection, and Ricky’s glasses, caught her eye again. Ricky knew. Or at least, he knew many of the mistakes she had made, and somehow, she was still worth his time, even enough to be more than just someone to talk to from time to time.

She felt her shoulders relax, the flight instinct dulling to a muffled worry. Ricky and Roo and Haldreth still liked her, despite everything. All three of them had stood by her, even called her out when they’d needed to. For tonight, that was fine. It was enough. She let herself sink back into her nest and carefully returned the glasses to their case. She hid it under the edge of the bed where it would be safe from Haldreth’s feet and easy for her to reach in the morning. Her hands became paws as she drew away from the precious gift, her feline form free to curl up in the warm blankets and her eyes slowly drooped closed as she calmed down, soft happy chuffs escaped her as she drifted to sleep. She’d deal with everything later..

((Dammit elf of mine, BE HAPPY! I’m afraid this might be as close to a happy post as Aly is going to get, but I will take it!

@crazyprophet-box-o-plots for both Haldreth and Ricky, as well as a brief mention of Saelron

@library-of-the-forgotten for Dararoo!))

[everything-you-mist]

But Oh How I Could Make You Bleed...

Kaleala appeared to be in a far fouler mood than usual today. As far as Israva could tell, she was actively avoiding almost everyone, other than her father. She kept pacing like a worried pupil before a test. The attitude seemed so out of place to her mother, though not by the standard of any other day. Kaleala was eternally petulant and quiet and smiles were rare, usually only reserved for those closest to her. But today had to be different. It had to be. It was her birthday.

It baffled Israva that she wouldn't be any happier today of all days. Birthdays were good things, weren't they? And yet, there she was, the worried teenager pacing back and forth just outside the sewer entrance. She had been there for nearly a half hour, pausing every few minutes only to peer into the inky tunnel. Israva had planned to wait for a good time to swoop down to deliver her gift, but even when Haldreth joined her, she only continued to pace.

Accepting a good time may not arrive, she rose, preparing to glide down with her package when someone finally emerged from the tunnels. A robed goblin walked up to Kaleala, extending his hand, talking to her in hushed tones. No fel, couldn't be a warlock… A priest? No, no, nothing bright about him. Must be a mage. Money was exchanged, and mage he was, opening a portal with arcane far too bright for her false sight to glean detail from. Where on earth was she going?

The thought crossed her mind that maybe she should let Kaleala be today. If she was so set on her sour mood, then there was little point in trying to be friendly today. But the secrecy worried her. There were plenty of mages in Dalaran, plenty giving out portals without compensation. Why would she pay a goblin for one? As Israva watched, she noted that the goblin was showing off, the portal was bigger than it needed to be. If she lined up her flight, if she used her fel to dash through..

“Don't do this.” Israva’s demon cropped up, deep voice echoing in her skull. “We’ve been at this for weeks now, there is more to life than stalking your kin. She’s not interested in having you around so let's go kill something! I’ve grown bored of these dramatics.”

Israva took a breath to reply, but another voice manifested itself before she could. “I made the right choice, making you leave in the first place. Look at yourself, following her like a lost puppy. Pathetic.” Israva was never sure how her brother’s voice came to reside in her head after he died. Was it her demon playing with her emotions? They often agreed. But sometimes, they didn't, and they would argue as much as she did. In the end, Israva had decided that she had indeed gone completely mad, and having Therion mock her every move was only a manifestation of that. “You have work to do, dear sister. At least Illani knows her place, why don’t you return to yours?”

As Therion taunted her, Israva watched Kaleala go through, leaving no time to debate with her voices. The decision had to be now, was she going or staying? Israva kicked off the roof, moving as quickly as she dared down to the portal. As she glided, both demon’s and brother’s voices groaned in her ears, berating her decision, the yelling pounding in her ears painfully. As quickly as she passed through the portal, she appeared on the other side, dashing the moment her feet touched solid ground for a hiding place behind an outcropping of rock. The new area was very hot, the ash sticking to her lips as she breathed. Pools of lava were nearby, and great spires rose out of the largest of them. Hyjal. Somehow, for some reason, Kaleala had made her way home or rather, her birthplace, the ruins of Shadehaven. Of all the places…

“Look, it’s dumb, Haldreth, you didn’t really need to come. It’s like.. Like a friggin tick, today is just.. Evaluation day. For a dead man.”

For once, the Wildhammer Dwarf was quiet, only confusing Israva even more. The usually boisterous dwarf being so serious.. It was Kaleala’s birthday! Where’s the party? Where’s the celebration of her sixteenth year? Where are her friends, her co-workers? Why would she be here, doing an evaluation? What for?

“Idiot. Did it even cross your mind that this might not be a happy day for her?”

“Really, Israva, this is foolish even for you. For all you know, she may not even know what today is.”

Her voices rattled in her ears, louder than they had been since finding Kaleala. They threatened to bury her in disappointment and disapproval, but her daughter’s voice rang out through the din, pulling Israva’s attention to a point. The teenager spoke quietly, addressing Haldreth as she stood before a pair of simple markers, barely rising above the ash-covered ground.

“My da-- Tanaver, the man who raised me, he’d always do his evaluations for my Druid training on the last day of summer. I’d perform every trick I had learned that year, every spell I knew and every form I could keep. If he liked my progress, he’d take me to the ocean for the day, let me play. If he didn’t like it, he’d work me harder than any other day, doing exercises of druids far above my skill. Even after he died, I kept the schedule. It helped separate the years in the Firelands. Now it feels weird to skip it.”

Israva was so wrapped up in this new information, rare as it was, she didn't realize she was moving before a pebble was dislodged by her shifting weight. Kaleala was facing her in an instant, fury etched into her every feature.

“Are you friggin serious? We snuck off for a reason, what the fel are you doing here Israva?”

“I.. Forgive me, I wasn’t sure when you’d be back. I didn’t want to miss my chance today.” She lifted her small box defensively, as if it would help. “Given the occasion..”

“Occasion? What the fel are you talking about?” Kaleala’s anger melted into confusion, peppered with fear as she stepped closer to her father. She couldn’t be serious… She had to know what today was.

“Your birthday. The last day of summer, it’s your sixteenth birthday.” Israva’s words were met with dead air as Kaleala’s expression became an unreadable muddle of fear, confusion and absolute fury. She didn’t know. Of all the things for those damnable druids to not tell her… they didn’t tell her what day she was born. “They didn’t tell you..”

The young druid turned on her heel, stalking over to the grave markers to evade the statement. Every muscle in her shoulders was tense, her hands gripped in tight fists. A glance to Haldreth told Israva plenty, though he was remaining passive on an outwardly level, in the way he held himself ready, the stance anticipating an explosion, Israva could see the storm approaching. She placed her package on the ground, moving away from it. If Kaleala was going to do something drastic, she hoped to be the primary target, not her gift. Inside the enchanted box, a small creature was kept asleep until the box was opened. A runt of his litter, left behind by overambitious skinners enjoying the exotic pelts of the isles. The fact that the little owlkitten had survived as long as it had was a miracle. It was fitting, Israva thought, that a pet for her daughter shared her tenacity.

Israva silently sent prayers for the baby’s safety as Kaleala quietly turned to face her. “I don’t want anything from you. The only thing I want is for you to friggin’ leave! Don’t you have a war to fight? Demons to kill? You have to have something better to do than stalk me all day!”

As common as Kaleala’s biting words were, their routine nature made them no less hurtful. The feeling was only compacted as the voices only she could hear heartily agreed with her daughter’s assessment, their tirade of disappointment renewed by her reminder. Israva’s voice was quiet when she at last found it again, her defensive tone weak under the constant bombardment. “Kaleala, please, I only wanted--”

“That is not my name!” Kaleala, no, Aly cut her off. “My name is Allaea Firebeard, get it friggin right!” Allaea.. It hadn’t taken Israva long to note the anagram. She left off a letter, but her name was still hers, just in a different order. But why? How long ago had the name been cast off? Who cast it off, the druids or her? So many questions, and so few answers.

“So ask.” She hadn’t realized the voices had stopped until the demon broke the mental silence. “If you’re going to be a pest, if you’re going to ignore your duties, then please. Just. Ask. If only to end it more quickly. You’re killing yourself with these questions, this unending wait for her to come around.” The demon’s tone, though in her voice, was strange. Israva could never be sure if the demon even could be sympathetic, but on the rare occasion that those pitying tones snuck into the mental bombardment, she couldn’t help but note how.. Authentic it sounded. A trick, no doubt, but an oddly comforting one.

“Why?” Israva dared the question. Carefully laid trap by her demon it may be, but Aly had no interest in being generous with her time. There was nothing to lose in asking. At first, Aly seemed taken aback, as if offended that she would dare to ask, dare to do anything other than be cowed by her complaints. But in that moment of offense, that momentary confusion, Aly’s firey anger calmed, more of a candle than an inferno.

“Why what?”

“Why is it not Kaleala?” Israva couldn’t be sure, but as the question left her lips, she saw something cross Aly’s features, some strange far away grief, as though the question had sent her tumbling down the rabbit hole of some sad memory. It was gone as quickly as it came, though her silence lingered for some time more. The world was silent for a time, the bubbling of the molten rock nearby the only perceivable sound. At last, Aly seemed to return to the present.

“I didn’t want it anymore. I didn’t want to be called what the people who raised me called me. And I still don’t want to be called what the people who left me called me.” The accusation was clear, but strangely, her usual bite was gone. She sounded tired and sad, a strange calm compared to her usual attitude.

“Keep going,” her demon gently pushed, the tone as delicate as a painter working with small detail. “You want her story, you’ll get no better time.”

“What did they do, to poison a name so?” Israva kept her voice quiet, as careful as her demon had been. Haldreth shifted, relaxing his guard and listening more intently. So he hadn’t heard the full story either.. Of all people to hide it from, why would he not know? Or did he dare not ask? Aly furrowed her brow, the kindling of anger resparking for but a moment before her strange sadness extinguished it, her head tilted slightly as though listening to ghosts of her own.

“I didn’t change it for them. They raised me, they prepared me for my future even if they didn’t love me. I changed it for me. I changed it because when I found out they didn’t love me, when the woman who raised me died, I died with her. I left my name in the Firelands, where I raised myself for five years. I left it at my mother’s shallow grave, the woman I killed.”

“Well, she certainly has your overly dramatic side.”

“Oh shut up, you’re ruining the reveal.”

Israva was left in a lurch, both voices largely ignored in the wake of her shock. Five years, she would have been eleven. No, she’s been with Haldreth longer than that, she must have been at very least ten, maybe nine. Such a small child to have blood on her hands. Israva took a breath to ask further, but Aly continued on her own.

“No, it wasn’t an accident, and I don’t want your pity, or your apologies, or your help. All I want is for you to leave. I was alone for so long that I fully believed I couldn’t be happy. But you know what? I actually have a shot. I have friends, I have a father that doesn’t need blood to give a damn about me, I have a future, and it’s no thanks to you and your messiah complex. So congratulations, you’re a demon. And you’re a demon for absolutely nothing. Stay in the Watchers and be a merc if you want, but leave me alone. Go stalk Kiras, you seem to have fooled him into thinking you’re worth someone’s time.”

Aly’s sharp words dug deep into Israva’s heart, only driven deeper by her calm and sad tone. This was no rash outburst, no flash flood of anger and lashed out words. It was a dismissal, clear and simple, leaving her bleeding as badly as the day she left. The finality was clear cut, the armistice already signed and sent.

“The Isles await, Israva. Let it go.” Her demon was gentle, quiet sympathy, false or no, in every syllable. “Let her go.”

As Israva took a step back, she felt her heart tear from her chest anew, left there with the daughter she again was leaving. The tentatively repairing color in her world bled away as she widened the gap between them, leaving her again surrounded by an infinitely more gray world. Her voice, as much as she fought to keep it steady, betrayed her in the painful wobble of her held back tearless sobs.

“As you wish. Please take my gift as one of parting then, or give it to another if you have no interest in him.” Her voice caught, forcing her to take a breath before trying speech again. “Please excuse me.” As she turned away, summoned demonic wings spread from her shoulders to push her airborne into an extended jump away from the two as she fought to put distance between them. It would be a long road to a city willing to teleport her back to Dalaran. Plenty of time to put her hopes to rest and prepare for the final war ahead.

((Uh… oops. This wasn’t how I planned for this to go at all. Aly’s birthday was on September 22nd, and this was supposed to be where they started to stand each other, but the dialogue never felt like them and the more rewrites I did, the worse the fight got. Not even memories of Pengfei could stop it.

The title, and the theme of armistice comes from the song that inspired this particular chapter of the Farrunner family. Antebellum by Vienna Teng is “about limitations, about living with a mere shadow of what used to or might have been,” in the words of the artist herself. It’s very quickly becoming one of Israva’s theme as she begins to accept that her past mistakes may never resolve, stuck in this cease-fire. I highly recommend giving it a listen!

Now then, character mentions..

@crazyprophet-box-o-plots for an uncharacteristically quiet Haldreth. It made sense for him to be there, but damn me, I can’t write the dwarf at all. I get the feeling he’s going to have some choice words for my druid next they meet though.

@kirasnyethescienceguy for being so nice to my poor demon hunter. Kiras very well may be one of her only friends.

@oldwornjournal for mention of Illani and an unnamed cameo by Stanford Conifer, the goblin mage))

[everything-you-mist]

Remember...

Aly couldn’t remember the last time she had been held. Hugged, sure, but picked up and held like she had been tonight? Not within memory at least. Her chest throbbed, the cracked bone cutting through all her other injuries like a white-hot blade, pulling her in and out of unconsciousness with every shuffle and movement her rescuer made. Resting against Myththiel’s plate armor, a part of Aly recognized where she was and who had picked her up, but as her mind drifted in and out, memories from long, long ago began to float to the surface.

Myth’s arms became someone else’s, a soft warm cloth of years ago overwriting the cold metal in her conscious mind, the memories acting like a tide as they ebbed and flowed. She felt so small in the other elf’s arms and she struggled through the pain, trying to focus and grab the memory to examine it closer. But it remained distant, the figure appearing more as fuzzy colors than a face. Dark green hair, and pale, almost silver skin…  and a muffled tenor voice echoing from the distant past.

“Hello, Kaleala…” he murmured gently, almost as though speaking might break some sort of spell. Aly opened her mouth, confused and wanting to know why this man knew a name she’d told only so few.. But the small pained noise that escaped her mouth broke the illusion. Her mind spiralled back, cold metal again felt under her bare fingers, sharp pain reminding her of where she truly was. As she retreated back into unconsciousness, she thought to herself. “That’s dad.” And then, she thought no more.

---

When Aly awoke in a medical bay, her mind was met with immediate confusion. Where was she? What happened? Was Roo safe? Was Gervas a warlock? How long has she been out? The questions swirled around and around before settling on a single mystery. Who was the green-haired man? Looking back on what she knew, her father Tanaver didn’t look anything like him. Tanaver had been very dark skinned with stark white hair, calculating amber eyes judging her every action as he planned for her future. He had by no means been cold, just focused… but he had been nothing like the softness the green-haired man had been. So why had her memories labelled this mystery man ‘dad’? There was no question, her mind had just decided that.

“That’s dad.”

((@libramofdadjokes @library-of-the-forgotten @javadruid for brief character mentions))

[everything-you-mist]

Reflections of a Druid

When Aly was finally able to stand again, she wanted nothing more than to never sit or lay down again. While Pengfei was a nice enough roommate, he fulfilled the Pandaren stereotype and was just plain boring to Aly. He hadn't given up on his nickname either, insisting on calling her Lee regardless of how much she corrected him. To Pengfei, she would never be Allaea or even Aly. At least Anara had joined the group, though she had adopted the nickname as well. Still, her constant guitar strumming was much better than his infernal humming.

The morning she fought her way out of bed, Pengfei had been rather pleased with her. “You’re up sooner than I’d guessed,” he explained. “Now the real work begins.” He didn't explain further, instead dragging two large soup pots he kept in the corner of his home out onto the beach, and there waited for the two of them to follow. Weakened by her confinement and inactivity, Aly’s steps were small and careful as each one threatened to send her to the floor in a heap, following Anara out the door and down the front steps. Squinting against the bright sun, the two watched Pengfei drag each pot to opposite sides of the small beach.

“Alright then. Anara, you will be on the east side of the beach. Lee, you will be on the west. Sit by the pot, and I’ll be along to get you started.” As the group split, Pengfei followed Anara, standing beside her pot. Aly waited on her side of the beach, watching them converse in Pandaren.

The conversation was short, with only mild perceivable confusion from Anara as the two talked in that chewing noise nonsense of a language. Once Pengfei was finished, he left Anara on her own, holding a spoon. He walked over to Aly, switching to Common.

“Now then… When I brought you to the priests, I heard much about who you were, Lee. A wisp of a girl, trying so hard to hide in her own skin. There was a sickness in your heart that ate away at you, day by day. A sickness that yet remains.” Pengfei looked at her squarely, dark eyes trapping her silver ones. “I see it in your eyes when you speak your name, when you speak of Kaleala and Allaea. You must heal, if you are to find happiness. So, Lee, let us begin.”

Aly could think of nothing to say, no biting retort or sarcastic comment. She felt so small under his gaze, unable to tear away her own. The thought crossed her mind that she should be afraid, or ashamed, but Pengfei held no animosity or disappointment in his voice, only concerned sorrow, as though this stranger could actually care for her wellbeing. She just stood there, waiting for whatever was going to happen.

Pengfei moved first, looking down at the pot and carefully filling it with ocean water. “Your heart is full of sadness, failed expectations, broken hopes… We will start by removing those things. A cup is most useful when it is empty, after all.” Turning to her, he offered a ladle. “Return the water to the ocean, and empty yourself with it.”

Keeping her eyes on the spoon, Aly’s bite returned to her. “That’ll take all day. Why not just tip the whole thing over?”

“I intend for it to take all day. You cannot clear your mind in an instant.” Pengfei got up from his spot, heading for his boat. He spoke loudly, ensuring both students could hear him. “I will return at sunset with dinner, if the fish bite. Use your time and think.”

A thousand replies, sarcastic comments and threats sprang to Aly’s mind. Emptying a pot wasn't going to help, the task was stupid and the Pandaren was stupid for thinking she wouldn't fly right off the moment he was gone. But not one was spoken aloud as Aly tried to decide which to spit at him first. Before she had her thoughts together.. He was already well at sea.

“Well, screw this.” Aly hissed under her breath. She dropped the spoon in the sand, willing feathers to cover her rapidly shrinking body. She was airborne in moments, flapping powerful wings to remain airborne feet above the ground. But before she could get any higher, she paused to look back. Anara couldn’t fly away, she was stuck here. And even more, she didn’t seem at all eager to leave.  She let herself land, clawed feet digging into the sand as she thought. What if there actually was something to this?  Pengfei’s quiet confidence, the way he addressed the two of them.. It had clearly impacted Anara in some way. And, she figured, there really was no harm in sticking around. If the Pandaren intended to hurt them, he could have done so long ago.

With how busy everyone in the Watchers was when she left, she doubted she’d been missed anyway.

Aly released her form, letting herself stay curled up in the sand with her eyes squeezed shut as loneliness hit her hard. She missed them so much, Roo and Ricky and Haldreth.. Did they even know she was gone? If she really had died up in the mountains, would they ever have known? Would anyone have even looked for her?

As she fought tears, Aly opened her eyes and caught a glimpse of the discarded spoon, just barely in view over the piled sand.

“A cup is most useful when it’s empty, huh?” She mused to herself. “Okay.”

Taking the spoon, she sat beside the cooking pot. She felt stupid, sniffling and wiping away her tears with her sleeve. What was she even supposed to do to ‘empty’ herself? Getting the water out of the pot was easy enough at least, as simple as reaching in and filling the ladle.

“So now what?” Aly asked no one in particular. It was just a spoonful of water to her, and with a heavy sigh, she poured the water back into the ocean. Reaching for another scoop, Aly thought quietly. What was she supposed to let go, anyway? Fears? Hates? With each pour of water, she began to talk to herself, trying to make some sort of noise above the waves but quiet enough Anara wouldn’t hear.

“I’m afraid of being powerless. I’m tired of having decisions made for me, but anything I do myself makes it worse.” She sniffles, reaching for another ladle. “I hate myself. I hate how useless I am, and how little I can do. I hate--...” She paused, hiccuping. “No, I loved my parents. I hate what they did to me. I hate what they did to themselves, and how they went against everything they taught me.”

She poured another ladle. “I love the Watchers. I love Haldreth like a dad, but I hate feeling like a tool… I screwed up. He tried to be different and I was so scared and…” She let herself trail off, choking on a sob. “The Watchers are family to me.. But I can't be that for them. I can only be a weapon.”

She went on and on, as the sun sank in the sky, telling her life to the gentle hush of the rolling waves. When Pengfei finally returned with his catch, Aly felt hollow and empty from crying, the cooking pot still halfway full from her easy pace. The Pandaren said nothing, building a fire for their food, cooked over an open flame for lack of his cooking pot. As the flames crackled against the dark sky, Pengfei gathered his students and finally sat beside them, looking pleased.

“So, Anara, I see your pot has gone through some changes. Were you able to help my friend make a plan?”

“I believe so.” Anara seemed, to Aly, relieved. The smile was small, but it was genuine. Aly was actually a little jealous of that.

“Tell me, however much or little you like.”

Anara lifted her gaze away from the fire, facing Pengfei straight on. “You...were right. I hide. Constantly. It’s easier to do that. But it isn’t, and I see that now. I am-was...am? afraid of seeming weak or needy, so the first step to stopping this is to understand that outside help is neither of those things. From there, I plan to stop running and start fighting. It...probably makes more sense in my head than this it probably does now, but…” Anara shrugged, trailing off. Aly felt a flicker of rage kindling in her tired heart. She made it sound so easy! Why was she smiling after all this?

“Good, good. Admitting such shortcomings is a feat few people are willing to even try. But it sets you on a running start to a much better place.” Pengfei was ignorant of Aly’s flash of anger,  his calm voice putting more than a little damper on the entire train of thought. Anara’s confused glance only compounded that. She was too tired to argue anyway..

Satisfied, he turned to Aly. “ And what about you, Lee? Finding the words to tell our tale can be one of the most troubling tasks we set ourselves to. But now, everything you are floats on the waves around us. So tell me, what survived? Who are you?”

Aly was silent. Not the petulant, angry silence of before, but a thoughtful silence, a clear minded silence as she worked through her answer.

“My name is Kaleala Farrunner, and Allaea Stagthorn. I’m a Druid, forged in the fires of war. I’m the apprentice of Haldreth Firebeard and will someday lead others who seek strength like I do. Someday, I want to be happy.”

Pengfei nodded, finally passing out the food. “Good. Good. With goals in mind, we can truly begin.”

“You said that this morning.” Tired and hurting, Aly still decided now was a good time for being a smart alek. If not now, then when?

“She has a point.” Anara added, nodding in agreement behind her food.

The Pandaren showed no sign of being bothered, filling the air with that infernal chuckling. “You will find that our time together is filled with beginnings. You will try and fail many times, starting over again and again. But, my students, the difference between the master and the novice, is that the master has failed more than the novice has tried. So embrace these beginnings, as they will mark your progress.”

Aly felt like she wanted to be angry. She didn’t want to fail anymore, she’d already done plenty of that, and it certainly hadn’t helped anything. She just wanted things to work for once. But, past a short flash of her usual petulance, the emotion just couldn’t hold. She was too tired, too empty. She just nibbled on her fish, looking between the two of them.

Somehow, she got the feeling it was going to be a long while before either of them went home.

((Omg, a parallel post?! What the heck is this? Anara and Aly are rooming together :D So you get the scene from both sides on this blog and @oldwornjournal ! Woooooo!))

[everything-you-mist]

Getting Better

When Aly awoke, she could feel the warmth of daylight on her face and the sound of rolling waves and the bubbling of something cooking greeted her ears. As she opened her eyes, blinking against the light of the sun through the open doorway, she was welcomed first by the soft hues of the dark blue blanket she was wrapped in and then by the simple comforts of whatever home she had somehow appeared in. The room she was in was small, but comfortable, and very, very Pandaren judging from the bamboo floor and the red rope charms hanging from the ceiling.

She attempted to rise and kick off the blankets, but a sharp pain in her chest put a quick stop to that plan and threatened to send her falling to the floor. She threw out a hand in a futile attempt to stabilize herself, but miss-shot it, the angle too wide to keep her from slipping and falling with a loud thump and an uncontrollable yelp of pain and surprise. Tangled in the blanket and in too much pain to move, Aly laid there pathetically until heavy footsteps warned her of someone approaching. The large Pandaren that appeared in the doorway wasted no time in picking her right up and gently placing her back on the bed, muttering something in his native tongue as he tucked her in.

Once she was situated, he took a step back, changing his speech to heavily accented common. “I’d suggest not moving for a while. Things are not as they were, and there is still a long road to come.”

Aly had no choice but to comply, despite her wishes otherwise. Whoever this panda was, they’d have to be roommates at least for the time being.

“Who are you?” She asked through gritted teeth, the stabbing in her chest still very present.

“My name is Pengfei. I found you on the mountain, dying from whatever wounded your chest. The priests healed what they could, but the bone by your heart is broken. It will take much time to heal.” As he chattered, Aly studied the Pandaren more closely. Pengfei was tall, though most all Pandaren were. His dusty orange clothes hinted at a quiet life, dark fur and hair kept in simple fashion and he smelled heavily of salt water. Actually, just about everything smelled of salt water, the more Aly thought about it. He didn't seem too dangerous though, watching Aly through heavily concerned eyes.

“Where am I?” She asked, more calm now. The longer she laid there, the more pain began to abate into a steady thumping ache, letting her focus a little better.

“You are in my home, on the edge of Zouchin.” Seeing the confusion on her face, Pengfei added, “It is on the northern shore of Pandaria, at the bottom of the mountains.” From where she was on the bed, Aly could see out Pengfei’s door, the rolling waves reaching just high enough for her to see. The ocean.. The Pandaren had taken her very far from where she fell. He continued, “The monks suggested you might find better healing here. More air than at the peaks.”

Feeling that much explanation was sufficient, he nodded, turning away to check on his cooking, giving Aly an opportunity to observe her surroundings. Reclined on several pillows, she was sitting up enough to get a good view of everything. The house was small, but several hangings on the wall identified Pengfei as an avid follower of Xuen. A staff leaned into the corner, next to a fishing pole, both clearly well used. She looked down at herself, intending to survey the damage, but her eye quickly caught on her clothes. She must have been changed while she slept, the white pandaren-like wrappings from before were replaced with the familiar dark colors of her childhood robes. But that was impossible. They didn’t fit her, they were much too small for her stretched out frame.

“Those robes were in your bag, so that’s what we used. It would not have been healthy to leave you in the bloody ones. Much too big anyway.” Pengfei said, having glanced over his shoulder and seen her confusion. “Don’t worry, the monks changed you, not me.“  He returned to his cooking, leaving Aly to work through what had happened. She was alive. The stone no longer sat between her collarbones. And if her old robes fit her, that meant… She was a child. Tears threatened to spill down her cheeks once more, the ache in her chest warning her that sobs would be very, very painful. She focused on breathing steadily, uttering a silent prayer of thanks to whatever god had saved her.

“So you’ve asked much of me. I think I am owed the same.” Pengfei suggested casually, facing his food and unable to see her tears. “What’s your name?”

Allaea took her time replying, waiting for the tears to stop before risking any sort of noise. The Pandaren seemed the patient sort, however, making no comment about the delay. “Allaea Stagthorn.” At her reply, Pengfei finally turned, offering her a bowl of food. From what Aly could see, it was a red soup with small shrimp peeking out from just below the surface.

“Really?” The pandaren’s voice was hesitant, his expression confirming his disbelief.

“What, you don't believe me?” Aly asked, offended.

“No, not truly. The way you speak it, you sound as though you’re introducing someone else.” Pengfei made his statement with no malice, not even hints of curiosity. He may as well have explained the color of the sky with his particular tone. “If it’s all the same to you, we will be here together for some time yet. Let us have no secrets. I won't keep anything from you, and you don't keep anything from me.”

“What? No, that’s my name. It's what everyone calls me.” As she protested, Pengfei gave her an incredulous look, his patient smile not reaching his eyes. It was a strange expression, uncomfortable and stern. Aly was silent in her refusal but under that gaze… It didn't last. “...Kaleala. I was born Kaleala, but Allaea is what I call myself.”

Her name tasted strange to her, said so little to anyone, even herself, but Pengfei seemed satisfied, and maybe even amused.

“Ahh, an anagram. You left a letter behind and changes the order. Why?” Pengfei asked. Allaea could only stare, shocked with how quickly the old Pandaren had realized.

“I uh.. It was symbolic. Didn't feel right to keep using it, so I left part of me behind. Who Kaleala was um… Well, she died.” It sounded much less meaningful when said out loud, the admission bringing heat to her cheeks. Pengfei didn't laugh or taunt her, however, only nodded.

“Has Allaea died as well? On the mountain?” Pengfei lowered his voice as he asked, careful and gentle as he broached the subject. Allaea began to answer no, began to explain her intentions up on the mountain, but paused. She realized she didn't really know. Was she still Allaea, after turning away what had made her who she was?

“Yeah.” Her voice spoke her thoughts before she caught up. “Yeah, I guess she kind of did.” She was safe. She was alive. But everything else had changed again. She was no longer powerful, and had thrown away Haldreth’s final gift. She had turned on everything she had worked for. She could only lay here, broken and weak in a stranger’s home.

“Then I am going to call you Lee.” Pengfei’s voice pulled her out of introspection, the Pandaren nodding with his decision.

“Lee? Why Lee?”

“Because Lae doesn't sound right and you're running out of letters.”

“But.. wait, why change it at all?”

“Because very few paths could have led to your actions, and none of them are good. If what you say is true, and you died, it tells me Allaea’s life had very little value to you.” Pengfei’s voice was filled with heartbreak, as if mourning who she was. Allaea found it strange, why would this stranger feel anything for someone he had no history with?

“Okay, but why do you get to pick? What if I wanted Lae?”

“Do you?”

“Well… no.”

“Then you shall be Lee, until you are healed and able to leave here. Finish your food, and get some rest. We have much to do, and very little can be done with those broken bones.” Pengfei rose, moving toward the door.

“Hey, wait!” Aly tried to get up, her broken sternum reminding her of how stupid that idea was. She hissed with pain, lowering herself back to the pillows as Pengfei turned, raising his brow inquisitively. Aly continued, “If I’m going to leave once my bones heal, what exactly will we have to do?”

Pengfei smiled, chuckling under his breath. “I’m not concerned with your bones. You are young, and strong, and the priests have already done much of the work. It won’t be horribly long before you’re up and about again. But to heal your spiritual death? That will take much more time.”

[everything-you-mist]

It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better (Part Two)

((Warning: This one gets a bit graphic. For me, anyway. It’s actually pretty tame. DON’T JUDGE ME))

Allaea hated Pandaria. It was too bright, it’s people too peaceful. She hated how much the Pandaren had been spared from the horrors of the rest of the world. It wasn’t fair. She especially hated how people changed when they came here. Something about the land changed your very being, and it terrified her. Despite this, Aly was almost as familiar with it’s roads as she was with Stormwind’s.

The timewalker had wanted her to come here, to prevent her insanity. Roo had followed every step of the way, supportive of her. Aly had tried to be open to it, tried to explain herself and be accepting of help. She had fought one of the cubs of the wild god, Xuen, the encounter breaking her down into tears of frustration. Roo had been proud of her then, mistaking the tears for her breaking point, for her turning point.

Aly had spent months in the damn mountains of Kun-Lai, trying to become what everyone wanted her to be. She’d read every scroll in Xuen’s temple, endured the stares of the disapproving monks as she tried and failed to be as they were. She found no peace in those walls, no sudden realization of how to conquer her anger or push down her ever-present desire to destroy all in her path.

Now that she was back in these mountains, Aly found her hatred only growing and growing. She hated everything she was, what she had become. Why couldn’t she get better? She had watched everyone in the Watchers grow since she joined them, watched them change and become strong.. And then there was her. Each change she made only brought more pain, more frustration. She watched as those she reached out to pulled back, moved on without her. She wasn’t needed, not really.

Aly walked the familiar paths of the mountain range, passing through the valley of Mogu tombs. Many of the tombs held traps and weren’t wise places to spend any amount of time, but the cut in the mountains she was looking for was none of these. The shrine to Qiang the Merciless wasn’t the most comfortable place to camp, but it was a cave in Kul-Lai without traps and without visitors. For her purposes, it was fine.

She was out of options, curled up beside the cold statue. She wasn’t getting better, she had no future but with the Watchers, and even that required a day job. Who would hire a Druid of the Flame but mercenary groups, and even that option was beyond her with how tired she was. If she could just SLEEP like she used to. Free of nightmares, free of the fire in her skin…

She paused, her hand strayed to the stone in her chest, toying with a horrible idea. If she could go back.. But to lose the stone would kill her. But to keep the stone would kill her. But what would be left without the fire? A child in the body of an adult without the experience or power to back it up. Not an ounce of skill to her name, if she didn’t die, she’d lose her mind. That much was true. Her choices had pushed her into a corner. What would be left if she gave up her gift? But the issue remained, something had to be done. The solution wasn’t with the stone. Even if she got rid of it, the nightmares would remain, and she would have nothing to cling to, no way of knowing what reality was. As she reasoned it out in her head, it became increasingly clear the idea wouldn’t work… More than likely, she’d simply die here alone. She let her hand drop to her side, settling into the shadow of Qiang’s statue, preparing herself for the long wait of a night in the shrine. There was nothing she could do. Nothing at all. 

You can never leave this place. There is no way home.

Aly jolted as the tone of her thoughts shifted. Since when did her thoughts address her directly?

Don’t be a fool. Whether the thoughts are your own does not matter. You have already lost.

Aly stood, pacing back and forth. How long had this been going on? Was this… Aly looked down at the stone in her chest with new horror. A piece of Ragnaros’s power, how had she not seen it? Having a part of the corrupt firelord, however distantly related.. It had to go. It had to go now.

You will die if you stop. No one is coming to save you.

Aly knew the voice was right, it had always been right, but fear and desperation drove her to action. Aly dug her fingers into the skin around the stone, uttering a quick prayer to the moon goddess she had abandoned years ago.

“If you’re up there, please don’t let me die.”

The stone resisted her pull at first, gripping at the skin and bone that had been its neighbors for months.

You will die, Druid! Your end draws near and you cannot stop it!

Allaea didn’t know she could scream this loud, another scream howling in her head alongside her as whatever presence the stone had brought was torn from her consciousness. Pain shot through every inch of her being, threatening to burn her away before her body suddenly became aware to the cold of the mountain, save for where the stone had been pulled, warm blood rapidly soaking into her clothes. She stared at the wound in confusion at first, her tired mind fighting to process the life-threatening hole she had just made. Her legs gave out under her, sending her toppling to the cold stone floor. The stone was thrown from her grip, bouncing a few times before spiraling to a stop some distance from her. She could feel the warm wet of a pool of her blood slowly spreading across the floor as her consciousness began to ebb. She was going to die. She chuckled once, weakly, the darkness at the edges of her vision slowly closing in.

Her exhausted mind took the time to wonder where her soul would go once it was over, and through her muffled hearing, she heard a voice call to her in a language she didn’t recognize. Did they speak a different tongue in the afterlife? As her mind wrapped itself in unconsciousness, she saw a blurred figure kneel down and gently touch her shoulder… then it was all gone.

((Welp! Next one goes up tomorrow. :D Hope she’s not dead and all that.))

[everything-you-mist]

It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better (Part 1)

The Watchers were going into hiding. The news hit Aly hard as she made her way home from demon hunting. She had learned of the new need to rejoin society, to truly hide among the population. She could no longer be a ‘Watcher’ first and foremost. Haldreth’s plan made sense, though. With the ultimatum in place, the Alliance had forced the Watchers to drastic measures, and none of the options were good ones. Aly struggled to comprehend everything she had been told, sleep deprived as she was.  How long had it been since she’d actually slept more than a few minutes? In her fatigued state, Aly could only guess. But sleep was dangerous. Sleep led to dreaming, it led to that terrible hot wasteland. She’d dreamed of nothing else since her change. The fire singing in her veins yearned for it and the true silence that came with it. It all felt so real in that place, the tug of an unhinged smile at her lips, everything around her gone, save for the crackling of fire and the cold steel of a knife.. Were it not for the stone lodged into the upper part of her sternum, she wouldn’t even know if she was asleep.

As though it knew it was being thought about, the stone gently pulsed with the energy that flowed through her being. When Haldreth had put it there, they both believed it would give her great strength, a piece of what had been Ragnaros’s power. But they were both wrong. When Aly awoke, she had been changed. Her limbs were too long, her body aged several years. Scars burned their way down her forearms, matching the familiar fire druid tattoos, her hair bleached a stark white… Wait. What had she been thinking about before?

Oh yes, the Thanes. All the Watchers were sure to have plans. Lia and Haldreth were both shamans, the Ring made perfect sense. Isthara was a mercenary and Roo would likely follow ..So what about Aly? She was technically a druid, but she highly doubted the Circle would welcome one like her, so attuned to fire. She could become a mercenary. But with how little she slept, her reflexes were awful these days. She’d been wounded badly up in Arathi, unable to dodge worth a damn… Joining them would spell death for at least one of them, if not the entire party.

Her hand strayed to her chest, resting over the stone that fueled her. If she could just let it go.. But that would spell her death. And if she survived, it would mean the death of her sanity. She needed it. The nightmares were so real.. It was only the absence of the pain the stone caused that warned her when she was asleep. As long as she could feel the pulse, the burning of the stone.. She was conscious. She was awake, and not the cause of that horrible wasteland. She needed it.

She could go back to the Firelands. As long as she avoided the camps of Avengers, no one would know she was there. She had lived there before. Maybe she could raise another firehawk, rebuild her tree.. But she’d be alone. She’d thought of going back to the firelands many times, but she had grown accustomed to the Watchers, always having someone nearby to listen to. While she couldn’t say she was particularly close to many of the Watchers, she tended to know more about them than they realized. She would sit in the trees or the roof above where they gathered and just.. Listen. She’d been alone in the Firelands for so long, going back to that isolation was a nightmare all it’s own. It wasn’t really an option.

Aly left her sulking spot, moving fully into the city of Stormwind. She wandered to the mage district, speaking to and paying a young mage for a portal to the city of Darnassus. Why was she going home? There wasn’t anything there for her. Her parents were dead, their home long sold to another family after it had laid empty for years. And yet...

Aly ensured she was in a less intrusive form before stepping through the portal, her stormcrow wings carrying her out of the city as quickly as she had come into it. She flew low, staying out of the way of Hippogryph riders and other druids, her wings beating hard to carry her out the gate and into the forests of Teldrassil.

Dolanaar wasn’t far from the main city, the small town melding into the peaceful forest that surrounded it. Aly passed over familiar buildings and faces as the townsfolk went through their day to day lives, unaware of her presence. Her destination wasn’t the town, however, but a hidden path to the north, leading under the roots of nearby trees and into a cave. Aly tucked her wings in, letting her momentum take her into the cave as far as she dared before she hit the ground running on elven legs.

In the very back of the cave, she had hidden the last of her childhood, years ago, on her last visit to her home before taking up residence in the Firelands. The box, buried in the soil shielded by a shelf of rock overlooking deeper part of the cave, had taken serious damage from years in the damp conditions. The wood was warped and barely holding together in places, but upon opening it, she was relieved to discover the waterproofed leather packet inside seemed fine. As she opened it, unfolding it’s contents, it hit her how stupid she was being. Why was she here? What was she doing? Did she think she could pretend to be a druid again, in robes sized for a child?

Her hands shook as tears burned at her eyes. The dark violet and green robes had been too big for her before, sized for growth by her mother years ago. And now she doubted she could even fit the garment over her head. There was no going back. There was no use even pretending. A pathetic sob broke her silence as she set the clothes in her bag, the chest no longer able to serve it’s purpose but her emotions forbidding her to just leave them here. Her departure from Teldrassil was much slower than her arrival. Finding and paying for a portal would impossible without leaving her avian form in the city. She would just have to fly herself to wherever she ended up going.

((I wasn’t kidding about how long it was guys. Here’s part one of like.. five.))

[everything-you-mist]

End of an Era

Aly beat her wings hard, fighting the harsh winds of Kun Lai as she gained altitude. She didn’t have to be up here. Lia hadn’t even tried to stop her when she left the cliffside village in light of the Mer’Catharn meeting in Gilneas. But the Watchers faction had made themselves very clear how welcome she was as she sat beneath the window to listen in without their knowledge. Haldreth was gone, and was about as welcome as she was, no chance of retaining old positions. She would never become the Thane Roo wanted her to be. So what now?

A gust knocked Aly out of the air, her avian guise splattering ungracefully into the snow. As she let her feathers molt away to regain her original form, she let herself stare off into the increasingly severe storm she’d flown herself into. As usual.. Aly had no plan. No matter what she did, she was miserable. Good, evil, loving, heartless.. It always ended with her alone and in pain.

At least she wasn’t cold. Haldreth’s final gift ensured that. The stone that had found it’s home lodged between her collarbones had brought about a lot of changes. She was taller, physically older, and always, always on fire. Not literally of course, but she could feel it burning its way through her veins. It was a fire that seared, that ached.. She always hurt now. Always. It was a fire that was desperate to get out. The anger and desire to burn this whole damn place to ashes constantly nagged at the back of her mind, and the burning cat form that had become iconic for her was now completely natural, no outside source of energy required.

Aly let her head drop, hiding her face in her knees. She was so tired.. Tired of not knowing what to do, tired of failing whatever she tried, tired of nightmares filled with dark forests and empty cities, bloody knife at her side. The snow surrounding her had melted now, a perfect little circle of stone in the side of the snowy mountain. From her spot, she could see the temple that started this whole mess. Filled with disapproving monks and mini-gods… It was the last place she wanted to go. But… what else was there? The Watchers may allow her back, but otherwise the bridge was long burned, and she clearly wasn’t any good at being a soulless killer.. So alright. Let’s become a tiger.