#so to think that he remembers me affer all these years? enough to ask about me? and to remember i liked to write?

[zipquips]

guys my eighth grade english teacher still remembers me????? that was 2014-2015 so like 10 whole years ago???

[ask-silverfire]

[Reworked] Past and Present - 10th Feb 2017

“Get up.” The elven girl stood, her hand on her chest. She was very young - perhaps twelve or thirteen. She moved her hand to wipe the back of her glove against her blood-stained lips, but paused as she caught her father’s threatening glare. Trying not to tremble, she reached for her handkerchief from her pocket instead, and demurely dabbed the corner of her mouth. “Again.” She wasn’t fast enough, once more. Another loud gasp escaped her lips as the arcane barrage hit her chest, breaking her ward. He would never go easy on her - what was the point in anything less than his usual strength in his offensive spellcasting? How was she meant to improve and grow stronger? “We do -not- collapse repeatedly, Rei’ann. On your feet! We will do this until you either show that you can take that hit, or stop me.” No shaking. No weakness. Experience had taught her that if she dared to look anything less than nonplussed, he’d resort to fireballs and fireblasts. That was far worse than what he was doing. She had to be thankful. She had to be even more thankful every day that her father did not send her to her grandfather for her training session. Her grandfather used Divination a lot. He said it was to ensure that her mental barrier was so strong, she would never allow anyone else to do to her what he did to her. Rei’ann would rather spend an entire week without rest, food, or water enduring repeated arcane blasts, than five minutes with Lord Silverfire. “Yes, Ann’da.” *** There were not as many warmagi as there used to be. Too few people understood how much more it took for them to do what they did, without the restriction of heavy armour. Many saw them as glorified magi who merely knew the ways of battlemagics, and that their colleagues who were armoured like warriors were far more powerful. Of course, when it came to the bloodmagi, they kept their mouths shut at their equally light armour, but just as potent abilities in defensive casting. Rei’ann had never taken the bait. The one flaw about hypocrites, which they themselves have absolutely no insight about, is that they have not the ability to see beyond their lack of lateral thinking. Let them underestimate you, she had always been taught. More fool them. Of course, once the Spire realised that they needed as many chronomancy-specialised Transmutation masters, who could also battle-cast, and who could move quickly and stealthily, they came crawling towards the likes of herself to advise on the efforts to free the frozen army. She stared at the masses of the combined armies, immobilised in time. She had taken the briefings from the scouts, both from their camp as well as that of the Kirin Tor, and - albeit grudgingly - the Alliance. No way, she had warned the respective Magister in command. There was no way that a mere handful of them would be able to reverse that. They could manipulate the matrix briefly, to bring out individuals, but their enemies were likely watching. Even if they chose not to kill any of the rescuers on sight, it would be slow and inefficient. “Every life counts, Magistrix.” “Even of those who are put at risk? A life for a life? Or more than one life for a life?” *** “Candidacy for Archmage?” Rei’ann stared at Hathorel. The poor elf appeared to be completely serious. She remembered him from her younger days, when part of her grandfather’s household resided in Dalaran. “The former Lord Silverfire was of high standing amongst the Kirin Tor back in the day. With Archmage Sunreaver’s words, you have not gone unnoticed, Lady Silverfire.” “Funny, I’d rather go unnoticed. The lordlings of the Kirin Tor didn’t bat an eyelid when they saw me led to the prison cells some years back. Why would they change their minds all of a sudden?" Some years back was a mere understatement. Rei’ann was being dry - she fully understood the incentivisation the Kirin Tor desperately needed to gain the favour of the blood elven magi once again. However, she knew Hathorel’s intention. He climbed their ranks in the past, thanks to her family’s influence. He owed her, and sought to repay it. “Might I also remind you that I have not officially received the stamp of ‘Master’ in quite a number of schools. I’m sure they would prefer not to award that dandy title to myself.” She saw Hathorel stiffen. She knew how he clamoured to Aethas Sunreaver as soon as he re-aligned himself with Dalaran once more. Rei’ann understood the threats facing them in Northrend at the moment, but unlike the Magister before her, she had no intention of climbing her way to the top. Hathorel himself coveted the title, but he was shrewd and capable - certainly sensible enough to know his place and where he stood in the food chain. “All know your skills state otherwise.” Rei’ann stared at Magister Hathorel, in the way that was typical of a Silverfire - intense, penetrating, unblinking, and cold as ice. “The Kirin Tor treat us like temporary bed mates to beck and call at their whim, Hathorel. They would close an eye when Garithos did what he did, then expect us to lick their boots because they know that they have the upper hand in commanding the strings that pull Sunreaver. The threat of the blue flight is common to us all, especially in light of what is currently going on in Icecrown. It is for -that- reason that I am here. Allies matter - Sunreaver knows that, and so do the Kirin Tor. However, I have no intention of being awarded a title by two-faced, double-crossing traitors. Sunreaver may comply with what they expect him to do - don't get me wrong, he has my respect for it for doing so on our behalves, but I will not.” The battlemage glared back at Rei’ann. She knew she had hit a topic of contention, but he would not argue back at her. Her point of view was shared not only by herself. “Mark my words,” she continued. “The moment this particular war is over, the Kirin Tor will once again turn around and find any reason stab us in the back. If -you- have any sense of self-preservation left, you’d do what you need to do, then return to where we actually belong.” Rei’ann curled her lips into a mild smirk. “I’ll remind you, it’s not this human city.” Hathorel inhaled deeply. “You have made your point, Lady Silverfire.” Before he left, Rei’ann piped up a few last words. “Let us be blunt, Hathorel. You need not worry. I would not ask much of you in return for what I aided you with. There is very little that you can actually offer me.” She smirked again. “But maybe, in the future, you’ll help someone else climb up, at my say-so.” Hathorel let out a soft sigh. “A number of those affiliated with your scattered House have already no need of that, my Lady.” Rei’ann shrugged. “Who knows? One day you might find me asking you for that very favour outside the gates of Orgrimmar.” Hathorel raised a brow. “Why Orgrimmar?” “I’m just being facetious, Magister.” *** “Magister Hathorel.” “Lady Firestar.” They looked down upon the scouted plans of the Arcway tunnels. Champions from either faction had already started to break through the secret entrance. The rest of them, secretly following and flanking from the back lines, had detected temporal alterations next to the center of the tunnels, underneath the Nighthold. “There is something holding the time-stop, just adjacent to the Nightwell. Either wards, or beacons, empowered by the font that is the Nightwell itself.” “Anomalies may also manifest as beings, Magister.” “I am not discounting that. None of us have.” “There may be more than one of those beings there. There may even be a hierarchy of them.” “Or constructs.” “Adjacent to the Nightwell, no less.” They had agreed that there was little point in individual rescues from those still trapped outside. One of the solutions was to temporarily disrupt the spell matrix around a large area, thereby releasing those from the hold of the time-stop. “The main source of the temporal disruption is next to the Nightwell. That is not to say that there are other beacons around. If they can disable any of the beacons, it would help destabilise the anomalies around the main source of the disruption. It may even help the main forces, should they meet that main disruption straight on, whatever it is.” “Remember also that they are standing on a large confluence of leylines. The beacons’ sources may come from both the Nightwell as well as the afferent flows. Interrupt one, and you may start a chain reaction, or even a massive localised one. They'd need some of them to remain near where the ley points meet the spell - discreetly. Channel the interruptions along the peripheries, then when the matrix is sufficiently destablised, break it, and release however many you can.” “What of those who are by the beacons?” “Teleport out as fast as they can, before they become overwhelmed, of course.” “There will be guardians or wardens. I refuse to believe that any beacons would be left unguarded like that.” Rei’ann looked up at Hathorel. “Nobody who accepted the task knew for sure that any of it would work, Magister. You’re veteran enough to understand this.” ... He found her at a widened terrace of one of the many tall spires in Dalaran A cup of spiced tea in each hand, he offered one of them to Rei'ann. "Still thinking about what is happening in Suramar?" Rei'ann accepted the cup with a curt nod of gratitude. "No, but you may tell the news, for you wouldn't approach me otherwise." Hathorel dipped his head at Rei'ann's calmly wry tone. "It turned out that there is indeed a huge anomaly by the Nightwell. The leader of the Nightfallen rebels confirmed that that... -construct- was what was holding the temporal freeze on the forces outside. The beacons were disabled, but did next to nothing." She nodded slowly as she sipped the hot, sweet tea. "The champions have fought their way through, I take it?" "They are, if they are not already doing so." There was not much more to say on the matter. Her work was done - she only waited to hear the outcome. She finished the tea and set it aside on the wide banister. "You were right, my Lady." Rei'ann glanced at Hathorel. The battlemage was older than she remembered. His loyalty to Aethas Sunreaver had never wavered through the years, but she could see that time, no matter how short, still took its toll. It had already taken its toll when she saw him at the docks outside Orgrimmar, when she finally called in the favor he owed her. She saw him rarely otherwise, even within the Spire. Nevertheless, he was still a proud and extremely capable Magister. "They do treat us like bedmates," he continued, with a hint of amusement. "I think that was the elegant term you used to describe them." "Yet here you'll remain, while I shall shortly be returning home." "We need to be allied again, out of necessity. You joined us - you joined the Archmage for the same reason back in Northrend." "He has those like yourself, and a few of my House. My duties lie elsewhere. Not everyone who can be here should be here." They watched the familiar lights and movements of the floating city beneath them. The fel-tainted sky towards the southeast was as sinisterly vibrant as ever. "The fel doesn't hurt you anymore, I see," he remarked. "It has not for a long time now, thanks to Magister Sunglance." Hathorel nodded. "Lady Firestar, I never did offer my condolences to you about Magister Dawnlight. You were right too, when you brought him to me outside Orgrimmar. He was a promising candidate, and did well, amongst all of our eyes, until his final mission." He inclined his head, out of respect to the deceased. Rei'ann's gaze lowered for a split-second - so quickly, blink and one would miss it. "He's in a better place, Magister Hathorel." *** "Minn'da!" Rei'ann smiled as little Taryane Firestar ran to her as soon as she appeared in the little girl's room. The toddler threw her arms around Rei'ann's legs and gave her mother a tight hug. Rei'ann lifted her into her arms, smiling widely. "Have you behaved yourself, little star?" Illethiann called their daughter what he used to call Natsanna when she was a small child. Rei'ann was never one for nicknames, but she has grown fond of it since. Taryane Windblaze had kindly relieved herself of her duties for the time that Rei'ann needed to be away, to care for the child to whom she was guardian. The blood knight had greeted Rei'ann on her arrival home, before departing to allow mother and daughter their private time. Rei'ann knew that Illethiann would appreciate both their presence, as he treated the older Taryane like his own child. "Story!" Rei'ann laughed faintly. It was a typical demand from Taryane. "What story would you like to hear, little star?" Taryane palmed the rings on Rei'ann's left hand and pointed at the gold and black signet that belonged to Rei'ann's mother. " 'We are what we make of ourselves'." Taryane's speech was slow yet, as she was still developing, but Rei'ann knew what she was referring to. With a placid expression, she removed the ring. The enchanted engraving inside the ring revealed itself at a wave of her hand, showing the words Taryane quoted. "Minn'da put them there." Rei'ann gazed at the ring. "Yes, little star, Minn'da did put them there." "Secret story!" Rei'ann smiled once more as she carried the small child to her bed. "Yes, it is a story about a secret." *** When Rei'ann was six, she used to disappear to the family's immense library to read in the middle of the night. Her father was strict, and demanded no less of her being up to scratch with her education. Her tutoring in the day time was not adequate - she was expected to self-study. Sun-forbid if she could not answer his questions when he quizzed her. In the library, she often found her mother lingering, waiting for her. Her mother always waited, ready with food, drink and light. Sometimes, she offered a lap for her to sit on, a warm, comforting presence. It was simple, but to Rei'ann, it was all that she needed to keep her going. "We are what we make of ourselves, my daughter. Whatever happens in your life, never forget it." Years later, when Rei'ann found her mother's remains, plucked her ring off her finger and placed it on her own, she understood. And on that epiphany, she crumbled to her knees and wept, amidst the dead, corrupted land. *** Rei'ann looked down at the estate grounds. Taryane was soundly asleep by then. She felt an arm curl around her waist from behind her, and leaned back as Illethiann kissed her temple. "I am glad to see you unscathed," he said. Rei'ann smirked faintly. "For you, I'll try to remain so." He sighed and held up a scroll. "Why did you write a Will?" Rei'ann looked at the document, then at him. "Because there are secret stories that need to be told." She smirked again as Illethiann arched his eyebrow. "But as I said, for you, I'll try to remain unscathed." She took the document and, in Illethiann's presence, destroyed it in a blaze of arcane fire. "You will have me until the end of time itself, for as long as you will have me, and want me." She kissed him. They both went indoors.