Heeding the Voice

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Heeding the Voice

Postby Salirien on Wed Feb 04, 2015 10:31 am

Sorry for spamming the forum, but I had some ideas xD And doodles at the end. Enjoy! :D

Heeding the Voice

Darnassus had not changed in the slightest. The city remained a gemstone wrought in marble and wood, so in touch with nature many humans chose not to call it a city at all. To Salirien, it was the city, the only one she ever wished to set foot in. Passing through Stormwind on her way back had been a test of her patience, and she would never go there again, Elune be good.

The elven capital was as peaceful and orderly as it had been the day she left. Birds sang atop canopies, tiny animals skittered about the undergrowth, and The Children walked amongst pagodas and trees, in the polite tranquility of the Kaldorei. She had missed this, seeing her people and their lives; the father walking with a daughter in his arms, a teacher walking through the temple gardens with his student, a young woman sitting on the grass, teaching her younger sister on the importance of modesty… This was her people, and to them she had sworn an oath of service and protection. This was her place. This.

She crossed the finely chiseled marble bridge leading to the Temple of the Moon. Nestled by both the forest and the lake, the sprawling structure stood as a testament to Kaldorei faith. Sky-tall spires, domes and colonnades, gardens and wings, bridges and arches – the temple was a brilliant diamond of Kaldorei architecture and devotion, basking now in the light of both moon and stars.

Her sisters of the Temple, and now also a few brothers – though they were still in training of course – had greeted her with relief and joy when she had returned. They understood why she had come. They had not seen it as leaving Draenor, they had seen it as returning to Kalimdor. A Priestess’ place is amidst her people, and Salirien was no warrior. These sisters of the Temple, they knew. And they had welcomed her as a sister much missed.

However, they knew she would not have come so soon, were it not for the circumstances. The letter from the Temple had arrived while Salirien stayed in Elodor, and its words had convinced her to leave, and that she should have done so long ago.

“Elune shine on you, Sister Silverwind. May this letter find you well. I write to inform that some nights past, your brother arrived at the Temple, in search of you. He has fallen ill during his stay, and we have been unable to find the cause of his affliction. His situation is not life threatening as far as we have gathered, but we still thought you ought be informed. Rest assured that we do all that we can to remedy his illness. Should you return, we have taken the liberty of moving him to your apartments on the lake. I have ordered Sister Thenwyn and her apprentice to overlook his treatment, so he is in the most capable hands. I pray you are safe. Until we meet, Elune bless you, and shield you from harm. –Afthas Vordrenthiel”

Salirien crossed the marble walkway, mere inches above the surface of the lake, to her apartments. Two neat little rotundas connected by a small garden, in which she grew herbs, and had built a small shrine for prayers, were what she came to call “home” in Darnassus. The first rotunda was a simple living room with a hearth for cooking, whereas the second was her study, in which she had also accommodated a bed. And in that bed lay Gentharius. Her younger brother was now sick and weak, an unfamiliar sight. He was always laughing and in good spirits, hair black as Elune’s night, and eyes sparkling with life, always a smile on his face. There had to be a cure this illness, of course. There was a cure to everything. Except death.

He slept much, but he had been awake when she first arrived. Priestess Thenwyn had given him the best of care, though Thenwyn had a tendency to baby her patients. Gentharius had smiled weakly, and asked why Salirien’s hair was lopsided. She was not sure whether to smile or cry, and so she did neither. She had been taking care of him for soon to be a week, and he was seemingly getting better, at last. She placed a hand on his forehead. Sweet brother… Praise be to Elune you are getting better. Thank you, kind Mother. She bowed in recognition of Elune’s benevolence and grace.

Gentharius looked at peace, pale skin glistening faintly with sweat, breath steady and calm. He swallowed thickly, eyes affixed on nothing. Pulling up a chair to sit down, Salirien smiled softly as their eyes met. She took his hand, and gave it a gentle squeeze. So far he had been too weak to squeeze back, but tonight, he did. Good. Progress at last.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, keeping her voice down. He managed a smile, though it did not quite reach his eyes.

“I feel better. I think Elune has chosen to let me off the hook this time,” he replied. His speech was slow and slurred, but he managed to talk well enough. “Tell me another one of your stories, Sillywind,” he said. She softened the frown that had formed on her brow. Oh, you don't forget, do you? Once you’re well enough I’ll throw you into the lake myself.

But she would let it pass this once. “A story of bravery,” he added, eyelids closing.

She thought about the Order. Many of them were brave. Aerandyr came to mind, and it was bittersweet. He was a good man, kind even. He had shown great patience with her, and taken some of her burdens for his own. His experience with tactics and battle was vast, but when he had given his input to the Order, they had brushed him off over and over again. In the end, he had left because of it, to participate in the Alliance war effort at the front. It was an injustice that was hard to bear witness to, and she could only pray Aerandyr would return safely and unharmed. If not, she speculated whose hands the blood would stain. For all she knew, he could be dead already. He had been much too stubborn to die many times, but war was chaos, and stubbornness might then not be enough.

Salirien cleared her throat. “I will tell you the story of one of the bravest that I know, a man who has fought besides me many times. He knew the true meaning of bravery, for even when he was afraid and in doubt, he gave himself strength and endured the hardships in his life.”

Gentharius turned his head slightly, opening his eyes to look at her. “Is he still alive?” he asked, an unexpected flicker of excitement to his voice.

Salirien smiled. “I strongly believe so.”

Doodles! Salirien on the left image, and Gentharius on the right. Thought I would update their wardrobe a little ^^

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"Shine your light on us, Mother, for the day has grown long, and we are lost."
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Salirien
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Re: Heeding the Voice

Postby Calisar on Wed Feb 04, 2015 2:10 pm

It's not spam when it's this good ;)

Please oh please can Cal overhear the 'Sillywind' name at some point (totally would use that) xD

Very tranquil and lovely to read!A beautiful slice of Darnassus imagined here.
"It's silly wrong.. but vivid right"
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Re: Heeding the Voice

Postby Soriah on Sun Feb 08, 2015 8:56 pm

Great writing as always Sali. :D

... AERANDYR ISN'T ALL THAT THOUGH. :P
"Surely it does not matter whether or not I believe, when my real concern is... does Elune believe in me?" - Soriah Shadowfury
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