Tumbler in hand, I watch the orphans play. They never fail to amaze me with their imaginations, their easy laughter, and their trusting smiles. They have all the reasons there are to be angry and bitter, to lash out at the world. To be fair, some do, but not all the time. Mostly, they are just children, playing in the Square.
Behind me, the fountain burbles. The devout come to pray at the statue, a representation of one of the greatest heroes of the world. Birds coo and tweet in the rustling trees, men and women chatter as they walk over the cobblestones. The shopkeepers send out apprentices to kick up business among the priests and paladins. The Cathedral bells ring every hour, drowning all other sounds.
Taliss sat in the woods just outside Stormwinds walls, the serene chirp of crickets echoing throughout Elwynn Forest. Her mind considering what her next move would be now as she stared at the squat demon infront of her. The hound returned her gaze with one of its own, its presence an empty insatiable hunger.
“Why did I have to try and get into a debate with her, I can't change that rhetoric at all with talk,” She mused lightly reflecting on her talk with Commander Forrester of the Dragoons. Causing Taliss to shake her head.
Someone broke two of my windows today.
Shattrah City was one of the Holiest of Holies, and a grim reminder for the costs of war. Walking in quiet solitude upon the Aldor's upper tiers, the immense Draenei male thunders from afar with his hooves striking the deck. The male strides with a teeming confidence, nearly set on the precipice of arrogance, but held in check by reverence of those around him. They were his people, the reason he fights, the reason he bleeds. White eyes slowly peer to the Aldor acolytes kneeling in supplication to the midday prayer bells. A soft, subtle smile creeps upon his face, rare for one so serious as he.
Little Draenei orphans frolic to and fro around the grass of the upper tiers, their laughter mixing in with the local birds that chirp and sing. Some run over to the black Draenei, squealing in delight.
"Vikentiy! Vikentiy! Come play with us! Pick us up! Won't you play with us today Vikentiy?"
I am not draped in the vestiges of the Light, just a woman draped in the day to day activities. My weapon is not a sword and shield, just a bag of mail waiting to be delivered to your doorstep. I do not claim to know the deeper philosophy of the Light, but I know I am a good woman based on my friend's discipline and good heart.
I can't talk you off that ledge if you want to jump, hell I've been there to many times to count. I can tell you that there is more to life, even if I don't know exactly what that answer is. I still don't know that answer, but I'd feel awfully bad being the last person you'd see before you ended your life. My wrists are scarred from the many times I've taken a bottle to them, so you'd only see me with long sleeves on.
The Undercity always held important memories to me. It was in those dank hallways, all those years ago I meet Blackmarrow for the first time and offered him the contract to end a man’s life. Three days ago I stood in almost that exact same hallway and took an entirely different contract, this one was to save the life of someone else.
“You must be the well mentioned Ixinane.”
Confused by sins of the past,
Overwhelmed by the weight of the present,
Daunted by the press of an uncertain future.
I turn these pages, seeking, absorbing, clarifying.
Knowledge sought, despite apprehension…
With you somewhere out there, I’m slightly less afraid.
When the purple horizon reaches up to meet the descending fingers of roiling lavender clouds lit by the rose paintbrush of the setting sun.
When the white gulls wheel above the heaving gray swells of the sea, their screaming cries like the wails of poor ghosts forever searching for what they've lost.
When the bronzing trees sing with small birds who lift up and away to form hypnotic patterns cascading and twisting through cool air just hinting at the oncoming frosts of winter.
When the air itself and the quality of the light is so clean and clear that your heart shudders up into your throat and you cannot find the words to explain why the sharp beauty cuts so deeply.
There are times I wonder how this world managed to survive before I put down my fishing pole and picked up a weapon. Honestly, these people seem incapable of managing to accomplish the smallest thing. It is neither hard nor dangerous to go from Maestra's Post to Astranaar, and if my child were sick, I would not hesitate to do so. But no, I must do it for you, out of the goodness of my heart. I wonder sometimes if my goal is a worthy one, if we truely deserve our immortality back. We seem so weak and corrupted, unable to see where we have gone wrong or how to come back from the edge of disaster.
But that way lies madness. I must cleanse the world of all evil things, and then Elune will bless us and the dragons will help us restore ourselves. She told me so.
The ebony stared back at me as it always had, even in the shadowed confines of my bed room I am well aware of my appearance, my skin although tinted blue in the night time shades still had the stark black lines, the mass of scars, and those same black eyes, I couldn't even recall what shade of green they had once been.
I remembered why it was I went to Tanaris in the first place, I remember now why I had felt the need to escape, to lose myself in something that someday will ultimately doom me to either death or complete madness.