#Kaleala Farrunner

[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]

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]

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 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]

Cost

Israva held her daughter tightly against her chest, staring at the doorstep where she was to leave her, perhaps never to be seen again. It was unimaginable, how could she even fathom leaving her baby with these strangers? The little bundle in her arms was the last shred of hope Israva held in this world. She was all that was left of Althallas, of Shadehaven.. She couldn't abandon that so simply.

Therion seemed to sense her hesitation, stepping up beside her. Her twin stared at her through narrowed eyes, calculating, planning what to say. He’s gotten so gaunt, she thought to herself. When had that happened? His eyes and cheeks were so sunken in…

“You’re not honestly debating bringing her with us?” Therion’s eyes narrowed further, regarding her with disdain. “You’d sentence her to death.”

“On the contrary, Therion, I’m debating on staying. Give up this chase before it even begins.”

“Really?” Therion’s voice was flat with disappointment. “I knew you were stupid, sister, but I was not aware of the depth of your idiocy. Tell me, what will you do when the demons come back? There’s no Althallas to throw himself on the spear for you now, will you jump yourself? You will only leave your child an orphan all the same.”

Israva couldn't help flinching. The wounds from Althallas’s murder were still fresh, and Therion knew it, and it did little to stop him from rubbing salt in them.

“The other idiotic option, before you waste my time with it, would be to keep her. Ilidan’s ilk are unlikely to be fond of your…” Therion stopped himself from insulting the child, only gesturing to her. “They may mistake her for a snack. Leaving her with honest elves is the only solution, as I told you when night was only starting. Now the sun is threatening to rise and still you stall!”

Israva hated it. Her brother’s words stung, ringing as close to true as there could be in this sort of dilemma. Oh, how she hated the very idea of someone else raising Kaleala. The note was so rushed, the explanation so vague.. It was still pinned to Kaly’s blanket, as Israva peeked down to gaze at her sweet round face. It would never be enough, there wasn't enough paper in the world to express her shame and regret.

“A few minutes more.. Alone. Then we will go.” Israva practically spat in anger and anguish. Therion seemed unphased by her venom, huffing as if the whole matter was beneath him. Still, he walked away, watching the cliff the house sat near instead, lost to his own plots.

Alone with Kaleala, Israva only dared to whisper as tears threatened to close her throat in a sob. “Dear Kaleala, what to say to you… I’m sorry. Goddess, I’m so sorry. I’ll never stop thinking of you, every day I’m gone is dedicated to your future.. I hope someday you understand that. I know you won't.. But I still hope. Grow well, my star. Grow up strong like your father, inherit his kindness, his wisdom, his smile..” Silently, not daring to express it out loud, Israva prayed that her influence would be minimal. She prayed Kaleala would be spared her mother’s weaknesses, her weak will and fearful stature..

Israva’s glasses slipped down her nose as she bent down to gently deposit her daughter to the side of the stairs, nestled into a safe crevice until the druids could awaken and find her. The moment she let go of the warm blanket, she felt her heart tear from her chest, left there with the baby and leaving Israva surrounded by an infinitely more gray world. Therion was at her side the moment she straightened, guiding her away from the hill, away from Kaleala and back onto the trail of the Betrayer. Back onto the trail that would cost Israva her soul in exchange for a chance for her daughter’s world to survive the sea of fire that had visited Azeroth so briefly. For her future, for her.. No matter the cost, the Legion had to be stopped.

***

As Israva awoke, uncurling from her gargoyle-like positions atop one of the central buildings, the floating city of Dalaran greeted her slowly waking mind with the ghostly outlines of the hundreds of heroes that currently inhabited its streets. It took some time for her spectral sight to adjust, taking on aspects of a sight she was more used to. As pale color returned to her world, she stood, thinking on the dream that has haunted her lately. It was nothing new, though Israva dreamed so little since the change.. Still, her daughter was on her mind.

Kaleala, no, Aly had run off days ago on some personal mission, leaving Haldreth and Israva without any knowledge of her whereabouts and forced to simply wait for her return. Or rather, just Haldreth. Aly had made herself abundantly clear of Israva’s non-existent place in her family, any information the demon hunter got was from her adopted father or her own observations. Even when she returned, eyes tired and heart clearly broken, she had no interest in anything Israva had had to say. Each attempt at conversation, at understanding what had happened, was met with glares and silence as Aly repeatedly lost her in the crowds of the city. All Israva could do was follow, running and gliding along the roofs of the city as Aly wandered the streets below, the demon hunter forced into an observant role, watching as her daughter struggled and fought to overcome whatever had happened while she was gone.

It seemed to Israva, that leaving her on the doorstep had sealed things permanently. By giving up her daughter then, she had left no path to retrieve her. Of course, she had no intention of giving up. If she could not be a parent, then she would be a guardian. She would protect her however she could, no matter the cost. Israva scanned through the crowd, looking for the familiar tiger-shape Aly loved so much, finding her sleeping in a bush. No, not sleeping… stalking. What was she up to?

[everything-you-mist]

Rambling

“Where the fuck were you when I needed you?!”

Kaleala’s accusations burned worse than felfire in Israva’s ears as she ran. She had told Haldreth she was returning to the Illidari camp, but when she reached it, she kept running. The cold snow felt good under her bare feet as she loosely followed the road south past Kharanos and into the mountains beyond. What had she done? Her darling baby had screamed with such hatred, such despair.. Her heart couldn’t take the sound echoing in her ears. She could feel her demon relishing her pain, taunting her in the back of her mind.

I told you.

“Shut up.” She answered, picking up her pace. The incline taxed her stamina as she climbed higher and higher into the peaks surrounding the dwarven homeland until she stood breathlessly at it’s top. She felt her throat clenched, her head aching as eyes that not longer existed burned with unshed tears.

“I’m so sorry… Goddess, I’m so sorry, my baby. You went through so much while I ran off playing savior, and I’ve lost so much time now. I’m so sorry…” Israva’s words were snatched away by the wind, even as she whispered them, the sound lost in the gale. It was somehow comforting, her heartache and confessions kept secret by Azeroth herself.

My dear Kaleala..” Israva’s voice cracked. “What am I going to do if we can't even talk? You were so tiny and now..” She sighed, dropping to her knees in the cold snow.

“You look so much like him, you know. Althallas would be so proud.  Would you hate that? I wonder if you got my eyes… They were so weak, before all this. Do you have glasses? Do you need them? M-” Her throat betrayed her, choking in a dry sob and cutting her off. “My darling daughter.. I didn't dare hope you were alive.. I expected to find a grave, not my baby girl and now here you are, with a new name, dyed hair, and swearing like a dwarf at the end of your road of troubles.. I made so many mistakes. I never should have left you. Will you even consider forgiving that?”

You’re rambling.

“And I will ramble all I like, demon! I didn’t ask for your opinion.” She threw a snowball off the side of the mountain, as if that would stop her demon from talking.

You get my opinion anyway, you know that. Why are you wasting your time with this? Therion would already be back on the Isles. Or.. if that’s not your speed, the Legion would welcome you. You could take Kaleala with you, if you like.

“We’ve been over this, I have no interest in turning.”

Yes, yes, and yet each time we discuss it, you swear you won’t speak with me again and here we are.

Israva got up and began to walk back to civilization slowly, ignoring anything further her demon decided to say. Her heart still ached but regardless of all her shortcomings, her mistakes and pain, her goal was still unchanged. Protect Kaleala and her world. And now, in front of her was the opportunity to undo at least some of the damage she had done. She had nothing to lose, her daughter’s hatred was clear enough. But maybe, in time, they could at least be amiable. At least talk, work together.. That would be enough.

From where she stood, her sight showed her the entirety of the valley the dwarves had situated themselves in. Fel scars aside, it really was beautiful.. Gentle snow began to fall, landing on her cheek with pricks of cold and in the quiet, she finally began to calm.

“We’re so lucky, Kaleala. Fifteen years later, and we’re both alive. That by itself is a miracle. We have a chance, we have to take it.”

(( @crazyprophet-box-o-plots for character mentions and for pushing mah plots along. Three posts in one week? Outrageous! Nah, but it’s great. So much going on in so short a time~))

[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!))