Monthly Archives: December 2014

The Silvermoon Market

Lanthiriel Lightmist walked along the streets of the market with her sister, Esladra. She hadn’t needed to have someone go with her, but Esladra had offered. She thought the company would be nice so she had agreed.

“How is mother doing?” She asked mostly out of politeness. Esladra was staying with her for the time being, and was sure to have many details that Lanthiriel preferred not to know.

“She’s well. She and Bailas are going to Quel’danas for the holiday.”

“You’re staying here in Silvermoon?”

“Well, I’m not going with them. That’s for sure. It’ll be quiet for a change, and I’ll be able to get some studying done. I hope anyway. Our aunt will still be home and she can be just as demanding as mother sometimes. I’ll be glad when my apprenticeship is over, so I can move out on my own.”

Lanthiriel nodded. Mother was paying the woman who was teaching Esladra, and Esladra’s studies were almost finished. She was becoming a priestess too, but rather than being a healer like Lanthiriel and their father, Esladra had decided to specialize in pregnancy and childbirth. She was Lanthiriel’s first choice to follow her own pregnancy, whether her studies were done or not, and so she had been seeing her on a regular basis now. Lanthiriel also had Isandri, but Isandri was supposed to fill in for her at the office. She couldn’t tend to her patients, if she was busy having a baby. Esladra seemed more than happy to make the trip to the Ghostlands to see her sister every few weeks.

They passed by a stand with little figurines. “I still think you should have gone with father.”

“Mother paid me to go with her. Besides, you’ve seen the place he moved to. There’s only enough room for his office and a tiny living space.”

“He bought that after he knew you were going with mother.”

“He knew she was paying me. I think he wanted to live alone. He advised me to take the money. He even told me to try to negotiate for more.”

Lanthiriel rolled her eyes, “You’re both horrible.” She started looking at some of the figurines on one of the outer tables when someone at the next stand over caught her eye. She was flipping through some robes hanging on a one of the racks.

Esladra saw her at the same time. “Vallindra!” She hurried over to the next stand, and threw her arms around their oldest sister.

Vallindra looked up just in time to be hugged. She stiffly reciprocated. “Esladra, hello.” She twitched an ear and eyed Lanthiriel, looking at down at her stomach before looking back up at her face. “Lani.”

“Hi, Vallindra. Are you shopping for the holiday too?” Lani asked.

Vallindra twitched an ear again, and breathed in sharply. She held her breath a few seconds before replying. “I’m getting something for Xanaroth.”

“I need to get something for the Confessor too. I’m not sure what to get yet.”

“Didn’t you ask him?” Vallindra asked as she returned to looking at the robes hanging on the rack in front of her.

“I did. He said he wanted a baby.”

Vallindra raised a brow, glancing at her sister before turning her attention back to the robes once more. “Good luck having that ready on time.”

“I’m due in spring. I need to find something for the holiday though.”

Esladra tried to peek in Vallindra’s bag. “You’ve already bought some things. Are they for your husband?”

“Yes. I got him some books, slippers and now I’m looking for a robe. They’re all things he wants.”

“Did he just tell you what he wants? Just like that?” Lani asked.

“Of course. We’re very open with each other.” Vallindra’s ear flicked as she grinned and pulled one of the robes out from the others.

“Oh, that’s a nice robe!” Esladra commented as Vallindra checked over the seams and hems.

“And well-made. I think he’ll like it. It matches the slippers too.” Vallindra smiled. She looked at Esladra and added, “I was about to go get something to eat. Maybe we could all go to that one restaurant near the Exchange.”

Esladra looked at Lanthiriel, “Lani, are you hungry? We can take a break and go eat.”

Lani frowned, glancing back at the market before nodding to her sisters. She’d have to find something later.

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Nessna’s Gift

Nessna Silverdawn didn’t have a lot of time. She had left Rylad with Sath’alor while she made a trip to the city, but it was already late in the day by the time she finished patrol. She walked up to a door and knocked.

Thavron Amberlight opened the door a few seconds later. “Nessna! Come in!”

She entered, leaning to kiss the older elf’s cheek as she slipped off her cloak. “Hi Thavron. I hope everything’s well.”

“It is. I’m running ahead of schedule for the holiday rush. Rylad’s things were finished a few days ago.”

“Oh, that’s great! Did you have time to finish Sath’s?”

“I knew you were coming, thanks to your letter. I just finished it last night.”

“I can’t wait to see.”

Thavron nodded and led her to his workshop.

“How are Yara and Xyliah?” Nessna asked as she followed Thavron to the room in back. It smelled of sawdust and varnish. It reminded her of the way Vessen used to smell.

“Yara is well. I think she’s getting antsy to run off again. I’m trying to keep her from going back to the research in Desolace. I’d rather she stay in Quel’thalas. Xyliah wrote recently. She’s still in the Ghostlands, but talking about going places too. Have you heard about the portal?”

Nessna had, though she didn’t know much. Her brother had made the portal for her to get to Silvermoon today. He was off picking up things in the market, and had planned to meet her here later to make a portal to get the things for Rylad and Sath back to the Ghostlands. It was while they were walking together, that he had told her about the portal in the Blasted Lands leading to a different version of Draenor, before it became Outland. She didn’t quite understand how it worked, but had nodded politely and pretended to know what he was talking about. “I’ve heard. Hethurin says there’s lots of orcs there.”

“Yes, there’s been some news about that too. Apparently, the pandaren let that orc escape. After all we went through to capture him, they couldn’t keep a better eye on him? Rumor is, he’s the reason the portal changed.”

Nessna frowned and twitched an ear. It was careless of them. Vessen had died, and she had been gravely injured to capture that orc. How could they be so lax as to just let him escape after all they went through to capture him? “Maybe they can just trap him off in this other world then so we don’t have to deal with him.”

“That would be nice. I’m not sure it’s possible now with all the mages making portals there.”

Nessna nodded silently, remembering that her own brother had told her about going there. Mages going back and forth and taking other people would mean that there was no way to trap a dangerous orc there.

Thavron pulled off the cloth covering the newly made furniture in his workshop, revealing a tiny chair and footstool. “Here are the things for Rylad.”

Nessna smiled as she looked at the furniture. It was a little big for her son now, but he was growing fast, and they wanted something that would last at least a few years for him. The feet of the chair and footstool were in the shape of paws. “Oh, he’s going to love these. They’ll look great in the little house Sath is building.”

“How is that going?”

“It’s looking great. It’s almost done. I was a little worried about it being done on time due to all the rain, but after you get the roof on, I guess it’s easier to work on. Sath’s really proud of it. He had some help from one of the other rangers who was a builder on Quel’danas.”

Thavron nodded as he walked over to another covered piece of furniture. He pulled back the sheet. “Here’s the other one.”

Nessna smiled. It was just what she asked for. It was a tall back chair. A cat’s face had been carved at the end of each armrest, their jaws open and fangs exposed. The cushions were covered with a cheetah pattern, and while they weren’t actual cheetah fur, they were soft and fluffy. At the top of the tall back, a lion head had been carved into the wood. The feet of the chair were paws, just like with Rylad’s furniture. “It’s perfect! The carvings are so beautiful.”

Thavron smiled, “They took a while. I had some fun learning through trial and error with the armrests. Do you have a way to get these to the Ghostlands?”

“My brother is going to come here to help after he finishes his shopping. He said he wouldn’t be long, but knowing him…” Nessna shrugged.

“Come have a cup of tea while waiting. You can tell me all about what Rylad’s been up to lately.”

Nessna smiled and followed Thavron.

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The Sword

Arancon Firewind packed the long box with clean straw. He had decided it would be best if he paid to have the sword delivered to his son. If he showed up on his son’s doorstep by himself, it was likely the door wouldn’t be opened for him. He could have asked Ty or Sunashe to deliver it, but even then, his son, or his partner, might figure out the package was from him and refuse it. Paying someone to take it there was the best way.

He didn’t think his son would refuse the gift after he knew what it was. Aeramin had always displayed an interest in the sword when he was younger. Arancon felt he must still want it, though they saw each other much less frequently now. The last time they had discussed the sword in any way, Aeramin had told him that he didn’t deserve it. He held the blade up, inspecting it one final time. It was a fine sword, imbued with magical properties centuries ago when it was made. It had been in the family the whole time, passed down through the generations from father to son. Its first owner, Arancon’s great-great-great-grandfather, had been a mage, or so he had been told. His great-great-grandfather had been as well, though his great-grandfather had stopped his studies before becoming a mage and had taken off to Eversong with some girl who became Arancon’s great-grandmother. From there, the next few generations became farm workers. A local militia was formed to help deal with nearby troll villages, and the sword was used to help repel the trolls more than once. Arancon himself had fought them with the sword, many years ago. He had been taking it now on patrol, feeling more comfortable with it than the bow, but that didn’t change the fact that it was a mage’s sword. It belonged in a mage’s hands, and his son had become a mage. He knew it hadn’t been easy for him. Lessons in magic were expensive and they had been poor, especially after moving to Silvermoon. The sword would be more suited to Aeramin now. He laid the sword down in the straw-packed box.

He penned a quick note to include with it.

Dear Aeramin,

I know we haven’t been on the best terms with each other, and I know you may never forgive me for the things I did and said to you. Saying I’m sorry isn’t enough, and I know that. I do hope that we will be able to talk someday, but I know it may be difficult for you. If you ever want to, you know where I am.

I’ve been sober for a while now, and it’s kind of put things into a better perspective. I’m sorry, not only for the way I treated you, but also for not being able to help you when you needed it. You’ve gone so far on your own, and I did nothing but try to hold you back. I’m very proud of you for overcoming the obstacles, and becoming who you wanted to be, even when the obstacles were of my making.

I thought it was time to pass the sword on to you. I thought you might not answer the door if I was there, so I’m having it delivered.

I wish you and Imralion all the best and a happy Winter Veil.

Arancon

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Shopping in Silvermoon

Hethurin Fairsong wandered through the market in Silvermoon. He’d already bought some high quality baking pans, and a serving tray trimmed in gold, but giving Terellion things for his job was hardly a good gift. He had asked, but Terellion had said that he wanted new baking pans. That was it. Hethurin didn’t think baking pans said he loved him. There had to be something else.

Terellion was the last person he had to shop for. He’d already bought gifts for each of the students, as well as Tik and Lilithel. For the students, he had gotten each a pen set with their names engraved in gold. Maybe it would make taking notes a bit nicer for some of them. For Lilithel, he had bought a warm hat and gloves, as most of her work was outside. For Tik, he had purchased a gift certificate at one of the clothing shops so that he could pick out something for himself the next time he came to the city for supplies.

Terellion had asked what he wanted, again, while on one of their trips. Hethurin frowned. Had he forgotten what he had asked for before, or was it just out of the question? Hethurin didn’t want to bring it up again as he didn’t want to pressure Ter, but he couldn’t think of anything else that he wanted. Terellion had suggested that he could get him a scarf, but Hethurin didn’t go out in the cold, and if he did, it wasn’t for long. He couldn’t think of anything else he needed. There was only one thing he wanted, but Terellion didn’t seem to want the same thing.

Hethurin took a few coins from his pocket and dropped them in a beggar’s hand as he continued looking around the market. Terellion had asked for pajamas too, though Hethurin wasn’t sure when he intended to wear them. Hethurin thought they did a fine job of keeping each other warm at night without pajamas getting in the way. Hethurin usually made sure the fire kept the room warm as well. That was without mentioning that lately they had been spending most of their time together in other timelines. Though in their own timeline, they were only gone a few seconds, they were really gone for two weeks. They went every day, and Hethurin liked going places where it was warm.

Hethurin smiled as an idea came to him. It was silly, but it could be fun too, and he could tie it in with a trip that wasn’t about fishing, or making Winter Veil decorations. It would be just a trip for him and Terellion to enjoy time together with each other.

He hurried off to the shop to see what they could have ready before the holiday.

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Lark

“Lark, would you mind taking these books back downstairs for me?”

Mikael Larkens suppressed a frown. He was pretty sure Fen’s only reason for becoming a mage was one of pure laziness. Why walk somewhere, when it was easy to teleport? Of course, he could have just teleported the books in the same manner, but asking someone else to do it was easier than casting a spell.

“Sure, I was about to go down anyway.”

“Thanks Lark.”

He picked up the books and started his way down the spiraling staircase to the lower part of the mage tower. He’d been called Lark since he started going to school. There were three Mikaels in his first year as a young lad. The teacher had started out by calling all three by their full names, but within a month, she was calling them only by their last names. The fellow students shortened it even more to Lark, and it stuck. He didn’t mind, as long as no one assumed he could sing.

He reached the ground floor of the tower, and left the books on the table to be sorted and put away. He had been coming to study every day for the past few months, but was unable to find the books he needed to progress in his studies. He was starting to think he’d have to turn to other sources. He’d already started looking into it, though finding people willing to go off the beaten path to look for books was proving difficult. He had started dressing down and going to questionable bars looking for the right people, but hadn’t found anyone yet.

He’d keep looking. He had to until he found the information he needed.

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Sanimir Art

Sanimir aka Hethurin. I did more on this than I originally intended, and I think it turned out nice.

Sanimirmageyo

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Cyannah’s Letter

Cyannah stared at her paper. She had written no more than the greeting, ‘Dear Father and Mother,’ but how was the rest supposed to go? She couldn’t tell them the truth. Especially after the letter she had just received. They had been talking with a man who would like to meet her, and they had invited him to a supper over the holidays. She was supposed to be there. She looked down. There was no way she could hide it now. As if on cue, the baby kicked. She couldn’t go home, not like this.

She had already gone to the lower city clinic to see if they could do anything about it. Months ago, on her first visit there, they had given her a vile-tasting potion. She had cramped and bled after ingesting it. She had thought that was it, but a few months later, it became very apparent that it had not worked. Now, they refused to do anything, saying she was too far along. The same potion would just cause the baby to be born early, and while she didn’t want a baby, the healers were adamant about not causing a premature baby to be born. They told her that she would have to wait, and give the baby to the orphanage if she or the father didn’t want it.

She did get the name of the potion and was exploring other avenues of obtaining it. None of them had turned up anything yet.

Of course, there was the problem of getting rid of the baby after it was born, and the time it might take to recover from the birth. Perhaps the father would want the baby, or maybe she could just leave it on his doorstep. It would be fitting. After all, she wasn’t being given any choice in carrying it. Why give him a choice in the matter?

She already knew that he had moved. There was someone else living in the home where he had said he lived. She had talked to them. He was renting it out, and was now living in the Ghostlands. She had gotten the new address from the current occupants as well. She had originally planned to write him to let him know, but she felt there would be a good chance of him denying everything. Had he even told his boyfriend about her? Probably not, and in that case, the baby showing up on the doorstep would be a perfect revenge.

She frowned again at the paper. Telling her parents the truth was out of the question. She picked up her pen and began to write.

I’m afraid I won’t be able to make it to Silvermoon for Winter Veil this year. I am very excited that you’ve found someone who wishes to meet with me, but there’s a ton of work to finish up in the library here before I return home. I hope he’ll consider rescheduling our meeting, possibly in early spring. I’m sorry it might be that long. If I had known ahead of time, I would have told you, but it’s rather sudden. I may not be in Shattrath much either. Some of the books are in other cities here in Outland, and I’ll need to travel frequently.

She paused thoughtfully. It was all made up, of course. She had already quit her job at the library, as she knew people would talk. Now she wore a hat and sunglasses when she went out so that no one would recognize her. She would hide here long enough to have the baby, drop it off in the Ghostlands, then go get married in Silvermoon. The travel was a good cover, as they wouldn’t be able to visit her in Shattrath. She smiled sadly as she closed her letter.

Your Loving Daughter,
Cyannah

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