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Alleria Windrunner I know this is the right number to reach you on! Now hand over your son! The Light will heal his scars! It is his destiny and it will make him new!

the number you called is currently unavailable or out of the coverage area please try again later

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sunrunnerrs replied to your post: Hey Alleria it's Xe'ra again. Are you and Turalyon...

how do you screw up so badly that you mistake illidan for arator lol

being an obsessed bitch that’s how

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Hey Alleria it's Xe'ra again. Are you and Turalyon ignoring me because neither of you have responded to my messages. I understand you might still be sore about the whole torturing you thing and I'm sorry about that. It's still not too late for you to be reborn in the Light. Btw I'm still looking for my new chosen one. Wasn't your sons name Arator? You know the kid you wouldn't shut up about? I would like to meet him. Wouldn't that be funny if your kid was the one I've been looking for all along?

new phone who dis

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sunrunnerrs‌ // AIRLIA.

❝  That’s  wonderful.  ❞  Airlia  sounded  nearly  breathless  in  disbelief.  She  had  hoped  to  find  even  a  vague  direction  in  where  to  look;  but  to  find  the  answers  themselves  was  far  beyond  her  expectations.  The  solution  may  not  be  quick,  but  it  existed.  They  would  no  longer  have  to  sacrifice  their  morality  or  lives  out  of  fear  of  retribution  from  unfit  leaders  … ❝  Truly  –  I  cannot  thank  you  enough;  for  your  hospitality  and  willingness  to  indulge  my  questions.  The  loss  of  our  Sunwell  caused  my  people  tremendous  suffering.  Now,  even  though  it’s  pure  and  whole  again,  there  is  a  constant  unease  that  it  is  not  as  protected  as  it  once  was.  Silvermoon  –  while  differing  in  aesthetics,  was  once  as  beautiful  and  boundless  as  Suramar.  …  Recovering  as  it  is,  it  is  still  beautiful,  but  the  streets  are  …  quiet.  ❞  They  would  be  for  some  time.  There  were  so  few  of  them  left,  Airlia  wasn’t  sure  even  she  was  spared  the  anxieties  of  knowing  how  vulnerable  they  truly  were.  ❝  With  that  said,  it’s  been  wonderful  to  see  so  many  of  your  people  visiting.  ❞   It  was  unlikely  (especially  now)  that  their  Kal’dorei  brethren  would  ever  relinquish  old  wounds  (even  less  likely  knowing  they’d  not  even  be  willing  to  make  amends  with  the  Nightborne).  The  Shal’dorei  were  their  last  living  kin  now,  and  it  was  heartwarming  to  see  a  reunion  even  though  they  had  never  truly  met  before  the  severing.  If  Thalyssra  was  any  model  of  her  people,  there  was  no  doubt  it  would  be  a  lasting  bond. ❝  I  know  that  I  have  already  asked  so  much  of  you  –  but  would  you  be  willing  to  offer  guidance  on  any  construction  Lor’themar  decides  upon?  There  will  be  things  I  know  he  will  insist  upon  secrecy,  namely  locations,  but  if  my  people  are  to  restore  Ban’dinoriel,  I  know  it  cannot  be  done  without  aid  …  ❞ 

“When I most needed aid, it was one of your people who offered it to me.” To her people, yes, but to Thalyssra herself also; aid that she would not have found elsewhere, much less so careful and willingly given. “Once Suramar was freed, the quel’dorei and kal’dorei both departed, but the sin’dorei continued to help. Your people did for mine much more than I expected any to do. Silvermoon offered us friendship when we had nothing to offer in return --- believe me when I say that, truly, I am glad to be of help. Suramar would not have recovered so without that help. Aiding Silvermoon to recover fully would be a joy, not a burden.”

The First Arcanist may be well versed in wielding soft words, but those were far from untrue, earnestly offered. She did wish the friendship between their two peoples to continue flourishing; and now that it was within their power to aid the sin’dorei, they would not hesitate to do it. The shal’dorei were grateful --- and they would not leave their debts unpaid. 

The Blood Elves had offered them compassion and understanding, sympathy to their plight the Nightborne had not found from others, even those who would have been considered closer kin. Where Tyrande had closed doors, Liadrin had extended a hand; and for good or ill, Thalyssra would not forget how both of them had acted then. 

“I understand the need for caution, of course.” The mage herself was no stranger to betrayal; and she understood just as well that the kingdom’s safety should be placed above personal trust that might risk it. “You can assure Lor’themar we will be more than willing to offer aid where you need, Airlia --- and not to ask for more information than strictly necessary to provide such aid. It’s been a pleasure to receive you, and I am happy to indulge your questions --- just as I’ll be happy to help where I can in the restoration of your land’s shield.”

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sunrunnerrs‌ // RANGER GENERAL.

❝  We  don’t  have  to  take  it  off  the  table.  I’ve  been  known  to  be  set  in  my  opinions.  ❞  I’m  sure  the  tale  would  amuse  quite  a  few  people,  but  would  fail  to  inspire  laughter  in  a  far  greater  amount.  Tempting  as  it  was,  he  couldn’t  truly  let  himself  be  physically  bullied  into  anything  (not  exactly  how  to  inspire  faith  in  his  leadership  as  Ranger  General). ❝  I  have  no  intention  of  holding  your  frustration  against  you.  It’s  understandable  that  you’d  feel  that  way.  I  was  practically  raised  by  the  Farstriders;  it’s  comfortable  to  rely  on  who  and  what  I  already  know.  …  But  there  are  a  lot  of  old  comforts  we  don’t  have  anymore  and  we  all  have  to  learn  to  trust  people  we  haven’t  known  all  our  lives  –  even  when  their  methods  are  …  different.  ❞  There  would  never  be  a  day  he’d  be  running  around  clad  in  plate  with  nothing  but  a  broad  sword  and  shield,  but  that  didn’t  mean  it  wasn’t  an  effective  measure  of  combat. ❝  –  Oh,  you  actually  do  have  more  complaints.  ❞  He  wasn’t  entirely  surprised.  She  was  proving  highly  opinionated  and  honestly,  it  was  a  breath  of  fresh  air  for  him.  What  followed  wasn’t  of  any  surprise  either.  She  was  right  about  it.  He’d  let  the  busyness  of  his  schedule  and  his  overall  wariness  of  their  methods  keep  him  from  learning  more  about  them.  ❝  Afraid  is  a  bit  of  a  stretch.  More  that  I’m  not  exactly  on  her  list  of  priorities  to  sit  and  talk  to.  ❞  Liadrin  was  driven  both  in  nature  but  in  personal  vendetta.  He  couldn’t  say  whether  or  not  she  honestly  cared  if  he  understood  anything  about  her  Knights  –  but  he  definitely  knew  she  cared  about  mowing  down  scourge  and  hunting  down  Dar'Khan  (should  he  even  still  live).  A  fair  enough  goal  when  there  wasn’t  a  Sin’dorei  left  alive  that  didn’t  want  to  watch  the  life  drain  out  of  him. ❝  What  about  you,  then.  Or  are  you  only  willing  to  hold  a  conversation  if  it  means  you  get  to  criticize  me.  ❞  Playfulness  tipped  a  single  corner  of  his  lips  as  he  questioned  how  willing  she  really  was  to  hold  a  conversation  with  a  Ranger  (General  or  not).  If  he  was  going  to  have  to  pick  a  Blood  Knight  to  order  him  around,  he  was  pretty  close  to  deciding  he’d  rather  it  be  her.

“Is it a stretch, truly? You did tell me to talk to her instead of doing so yourself.” Retort comes so easily one may think she wasn’t talking to one she was less than familiar with, much less one who was well above her rank; Kelantir says it all the same, an eyebrow arched and the shadow of a smile still upon her lips. It is no sign of disrespect, as some might take it to be; true, a certain disregard for formality, yet this did not mean she would not show proper regard to his position. If anything, their conversation had bettered her opinion of him; he needed not listen, much less allow her to speak further --- and he most certainly did not have to explain to her, not even briefly, the whys of his partiality to the Farstriders. Others wouldn’t have; others may not have taken well to criticism at all. 

Slight surprise replaces her formerly bold demeanor at his suggestion she could do what she had so proposed. In spite of so readily providing criticism, she hadn’t expected him to heed it entirely, much less to want to work with her further. That not only he listens to it, but is able to take it graciously, speaks only in his favor; as General, yes, but even further. There were other options, surely enough --- most Blood Knights were not exactly famed for their honeyed words, yet the Ranger General was sure to find some who would be more careful when offering their opinions. Certainly some who would not offer said opinions unless when directly requested.

Nevertheless, Kelantir did not doubt her ability to provide the needed insight where her order was concerned; and she would be glad to do it, if it meant the Blood Knights would no longer be set aside when they should be deployed. Not all of the paladins would be eager to do so, she was well aware; while there were other options for sure, some of them were not exactly thrilled to answer to a ranger, and would be even less so if it required more direct interaction. 

Her brief moment of surprise passing, she gave him a half smile of her own at the playful reproach. “I would be glad to do it, should you so choose. But I am not prone to hold back my words, as I’m sure you already noticed, sir. Not even when they are quite critical.” If it would not prove to be a problem for him, than it surely wouldn’t be a problem for her; on her part, Kelantir was not truly bothered that he was a Farstrider (well, not beyond how it affected the rest of them due to his leadership decisions, at least). Partial as she may be to her own faction (and to her mentor), there was nothing to be gained holding on to petty enmity towards the rangers. “Still, I can promise you I do not usually spend entire conversations criticizing people --- and that I would be willing to talk without criticizing you further.”

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sunrunnerrs‌ // AIRLIA.

❝  It  is  difficult  to  say  which  magics  are  more  prominent.  A  Naaru  sacrificed  themselves  to  cleanse  the  Sunwell,  which  is  how  it  came  to  be  infused  with  Holy  Light.  I  was  …  far  from  my  home  at  that  time,  but  I  was  still  able  to  feel  it.  But  I  cannot  say  whether  or  not  that  is  due  in  part  to  my  affinity  for  the  Light.  ❞  It  was  slowly  coming  to  have  a  rippling  effect  through  the  Highborne,  much  the  way  the  arcane  magics  had  –  though  it  tended  to  lean  more  heavily  towards  those  who  were  already  wielders  of  the  Light. ❝  I  don’t  believe  I’ve  ever  met  a  priest  with  arcane  magics  –  or  vice  versa.  I  imagine  the  methods  are  quite  different,  but  …  perhaps  not  impossible  to  teach.  ❞  Finding  those  willing  may  prove  more  taxing  than  anything  else.  Airlia  herself,  for  as  deeply  as  she  wished  to  help,  couldn’t  truly  imagine  learning  the  ways  of  arcane.  ❝  The  Sin’dorei,  I  have  come  to  find,  are  quite  open  to  trying  new  things  these  days.  ❞ The  Priestess  shifted  slightly  against  the  cushion  beneath  her,  a  more  genuine  smile  finally  gracing  her  rosy  lips  as  it  truly  began  to  sink  in  that  it  was  a  true  possibility  to  restore  the  once  impenetrable  shield,  ❝  Previously,  the  Mooncrystals  were  kept  at  three  hidden  locations,  each  one  at  an  intersection  of  ley  lines.  The  Sunwell  fed  into  the  ley  lines,  which  powered  the  Mooncrystals,  which  then  powered  Ban’dinoriel.  Unfortunately,  I  don’t  know  that  it  would  be  possible  to  secure  those  three  places  again  –  and  even  if  it  were,  with  their  locations  now  known,  it  would  leave  too  large  a  vulnerability.  ❞ A  single  finger  tapped  silently  at  the  top  of  her  thigh  in  thought,  her  lips  pursing  for  a  moment  before  it  was  obvious  in  her  expression  that  a  thought  bubbled  into  mind,  ❝  An  artifact  may  still  be  necessary,  of  Holy  origin  or  Arcane,  I  can’t  be  sure  however  …  Is  it  possible  to  reroute  ley  lines  to  a  single  source?  ❞

“I imagine it would not be easy for one on either path to learn the other.” Thalyssra herself could hardly walk a path of faith, be it to Elune or the Holy Light; her only devotion, as far as sources of power went, had been to the Arcane, which she had always been most glad to study and experiment. “Not impossible, perhaps, but difficult. And it could prove more difficult than it has to be, if a combined force achieved the same results.”

Thalyssra heeded her words as the priestess further explained how the shield had formerly been built. Indeed, if treachery from one of their own had led to its ruin, it seemed unwise to keep too similar composition of keys, much less the very same positions they had been formerly kept in, even if there was a reason for their positioning. 

No commentary is made; instead she waits for Airlia to finish. There is some contentment in being able to answer a question with certainty; the First Arcanist did not mind at all the dwelling in possibilities, but it was visible Airlia wished for something more concrete --- and if nothing else, at least this question Thalyssra could answer without need for further research. “Yes, it is possible to redirect them. The Arcway beneath Suramar was originally built to direct the leyline’s flow of power, before we came to rely on the Nightwell --- and activating the conduits that were connected to Shal’Aran was essential to the growth of the Arcan’dor.”

“Building something as complex as the arcways would take time, but it is surely achievable.” There may be ways to redirect leylines more directly, yet those would require far more power; even the use of artifacts they did not possess. Utilizing conduits to direct the flow of power, however, was not merely feasible, but something Suramar had succeeded in doing and most certainly would be able to aid the sin’dorei with. “And it would prove efficient in powering an artifact that would in turn power the shield itself. Its construction would not be simple, even with the use of magic... nevertheless, a system similar to the arcways would allow you to direct the flow of power of the leylines to a chosen point, and even redirect it elsewhere, should the need ever arise. A fine precaution to have, I think --- should the initial position be compromised, it may not compromise the entirety of the defenses.”

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sunrunnerrs‌ // RANGER GENERAL.

❝  I’d  be  a  poor  leader  if  I  gave  everyone  what  they  wanted  –  equally  poor  if  I  was  unwilling  to  compromise.  ❞  He  was  positive  a  good  deal  of  the  Farstriders  would  agree  with  Kelantir’s  claim,  purely  out  of  not  wanting  to  have  to  work  with  them.  They  couldn’t  move  forward  together  if  they  held  on  to  petty  differences.  ❝  You  shouldn’t  underestimate  the  effectiveness  of  the  Farstriders  –  anymore  than  I  should  of  the  Blood  Knights.  Having  a  group  with  you  will  prevent  your  unit  from  being  overwhelmed,  should  you  end  up  facing  the  scourge  in  large  numbers.  We  can’t  afford  not  to  air  on  the  side  of  caution  anymore.  ❞ Tranquillien  was  the  best  choice.  It  was  close  enough  to  Eversong’s  borders  that  reinforcements  could  reach  them  if  needed,  while  being  able  to  keep  a  steady  eye  on  Deatholme.  ❝  Don’t  put  too  much  faith  in  me  yet,  I’m  sure  I’ll  come  up  with  many  more  plans  you’ll  find  to  be  shit.  ❞  After  all,  her  complaints  were  about  her  faction,  not  exactly  the  plan  itself.  He  was  bound  to  continue  to  not  use  them  to  their  full  advantage  for  months  to  come  until  he  felt  more  familiar  and  confident  in  both  their  abilities  and  endurance.  He  and  Liadrin  may  not�� have  always  seen  eye-to-eye  on  things,  but  she  had  an  unbreakable  will  that  she  clearly  inspired  in  her  ranks. ❝  Great.  You  can  tell  her  then.  I’m  sure  she’d  be  more  willing  to  hear  it  from  her  protégé  than  from  me.  You  can  even  tell  her  you  backed  me  into  a  wall  and  literally  twisted  my  arm  about  it  until  I  agreed.  ❞  The  blonde  before  him  may  have  looked  frail,  but  he  could  easily  imagine  her  doing  just  that  (maybe  not  specifically  to  him  –  …  or  yeah,  maybe  specifically  to  him).  ❝  Any  other  complaints  while  you’re  here,  Miss  Bloodblade.  ❞ 

“I would hate to claim to have done it without truly having backed you into a wall, Ranger General.” Which she could do, regardless of what he thought; size advantage would hardly be enough to stop her, in spite of what most people seemed to think. Kelantir always delighted particularly in proving people wrong when they underestimated her strength because of her looks --- still, she believed it to not be the case. He had treated her with respect, even when she had been less than respectful initially. “But I will let her know, of course.”

“Forgive me for the impolite criticism --- it’s been frustrating to have you waste good opportunities of better using the Blood Knights, though.” She is sincere in both apology and explanation; Kelantir might not have offered it had he acted differently, but Halduron Brightwing had been much more willing to listen to the complaints of a paladin than she had expected he would be. Indeed, his agreement to compromise made him a better leader than most; even if he had much to improve where favoring his own faction was concerned. 

“--------- But since you asked, let me just add this,” Not a complaint, not truly, not as much as it was merely a suggestion still much on the same topic. He had not been doing a shit job (she wasn’t likely to have remained silent for long if he was), but there were always points that could be improved; and it was one of his most obvious weaknesses as a leader, this difficulty to deal with factions outside his comfort zone. “if you don’t know what the Blood Knights are capable of, talking to one of us to better understand our skills would certainly help. If you’re not sure how to best make use of a faction you’re in charge of, discussing it with one who would know seems like a best course of action than merely sticking with what seems safest.”

“Even if you seem to be too afraid of Lady Liadrin to talk to her, there are those among us who would be willing to help.” Adds in a lighter note, although she is unconvinced this is not the truth; not that she would hold it against him. Her mentor is a formidable warrior, and she can be commanding when she so wishes. “------ And it certainly would help build the Blood Knights’ faith in you, considering you are bound to meet some resistance from some due to being a ranger.”

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“It is.” The smile is answered with one of her own; silver gaze flickers to their surroundings, a touch of fondness shining through. It was a beautiful place, even if she was biased in saying it. All kaldorei held great love for their forests, and Tyrande was no exception. Still, even as fondness shone through, so did the smallest hint of concern. It had been a while since she had first met Windrunner as a mysterious foreigner with a warning against the cultists that plagued the land; warning that had proven vital in allowing them to answer in timely manner, but that had not prevented all damage. She would loathe to see anything more of their forests destroyed so; even if she had faith even the places touched by the dark stain of the Cult of the Damned would yet recover. And they would, would they not? If anyone knew how to restore the land, the druids surely would.

Tyrande stops herself before thoughts wander further, attention fully brought to her companion as gaze settled upon her once more. That they gazes met had not been reason why she chose to leave the Sentinels’ companion, not entirely; that had not been the first time the priestess’s eyes had turned to look at her. There was much she did not know of Sylvanas still, perhaps much she never would; yet there was deeply etched sorrow, loneliness even, that time and again Windrunner did not succeed in hiding entirely --- such as the near melancholic, wistful glance she had seen Sylvanas turn towards the treeline, as if expecting something (someone) who did not come.

It was not her place to intrude, nor to push for anything the quel’dorei did not feel willing to share. It was within her grasp, though, to offer comfort where she could; or, at the very least, to offer companionship, and the gentle reminder she did not have to be alone, not unless she so wished (not anymore). “Jada and Merisse will not miss me, I’m sure.” They had each other’s company, and it seemed to be enough, as they remained just as engrossed in conversation interrupted only by occasional laughter. “Besides, I am more than glad to be with you.”

Not offered without meaning for the sake of politeness; Tyrande had never been prone to measuring words for the comfort of others, even if she knew courtesies well. All the more when others were concerned, she had always had a care to be truthful with her feelings. 

There had been enough damaged done, even when she had tried her best to not be misleading.

“Do you wish to talk about what you were thinking?” Lightly spoken, as to not come across as pushy; it is an offer, not a demand. “I do not mean to pry, I just... I thought you might use some company, is all. We have a few moments to spare, yet you seem somewhat more anxious at the prospect of being idle than to face battles nonstop.”

 “Resting would do you good.” All of them needed it, after all; Sylvanas was no exception. Tired fighters were not as effective as those well rested; neither were tired strategists. Regardless, she had to wonder when last had Windrunner allowed herself a break, short as it might be; even if she had, surely she had not been somewhere safe, and she had likely been alone --- here, no such worries were needed, not for the time being. All the more softly, the priestess continued. “And perhaps talking would, as well.”

@diguerra ( soft and floofy for tyrande ❤︎ )

She was not adept at idling. Having nothing to do. No action taken that would conveniently distract her from thoughts that plagued her mind when she dared to stop. Sylvanas was never particularly fond of doing nothing, Nathanos had always been a bit of a pest to point it out. How she’d fidget if she wasn’t occupied by a task.

           Her heart briefly panged, she missed him. Never mind she knew the truth of his fate, she still found herself hoping that somehow he’d turn up alive. That he’d come riding out of the darkness on a horse, smirking. He’d have something smart to say, a few sharp words meant as a joke to make light of a serious situation.

           Sylvanas’ gaze, which been fixed on her bow, found itself glancing at the darkened woods. Trees that defied what she thought were possible spired towards the sky, their canopy so thick that the afternoon sun never touched the forest floor. Instead, the light managed to flicker down was muted, and the woods instead were lit by wisps, essence of magic far more attune with nature then anything Quel’Thalas had possessed, and enchanted lanterns.

           She waited for a second, eyes scanning the tree line – for a figure she’d recognize.

           For her friend to somehow emerge unscathed.

           Windrunner found herself ignoring the sting in her eyes as she looked away, burying the pain.

           She looked for him in the shadows more-so than she should. She knew he was gone. At best, he was nothing but discarded remains, washed away by the few years that’d past since the Scourge.

           At worst…

           Sylvanas did not dwell on the thought. Nathanos deserved better, far better than whatever terrible fate had befallen him.

           Her gaze reaffirmed itself on the gleaming, enchanted bow in her hands. The incantation that hid it so well had shattered months ago, when she’d somehow conjured abilities she thought she no longer possessed.

           Now, the Sunstrider joined her as an outsider amongst the kaldorei. The magic that flowed through the weapon were arcane, powerful and wild, gleaming a vicious green, its design ornate and as specular as the magic her people once possessed.

           A thought occurred to her as she picked up the sound of soft laughter. She looked up, across the gentle creek, on the far side of the moss-ridden cobblestone was Tyrande. She was joined by two others, Merisse and Jada. Sentinels who’d ventured with them for a while, along with a number of others.

           Perhaps outsider was the wrong term. Surely when the mission began, Sylvanas would not have thought the word was incorrect. But she’d come to call a few of the kaldorei as friends.

           She and her bow were guests, then. Welcomed interlopers.

           The label amused her.

           Her gaze flicked between the three before it settled on Whisperwind.

           It was strange to think that she wasn’t royalty. She stood with pride, the same pride that she’d seen in Anasterian and Kael’thas, yet it never turned to arrogance. She moved with a natural grace that spoke of experience and wisdom. Yes, Sylvanas had witnessed the priestess angry, but even then somehow it’d appeared dignified.      

           Sylvanas blinked, realizing then she’d looked for too long. Her averted her gaze just as Tyrande glanced over, attention once again fixed on her immaculate bow.

           Some time ago Windrunner took notice that her respect of the kaldorei woman had aided in admiration taking root. It was such a thing that Sylvanas kept entirely to herself, for a multitude of reasons.

           Even if she was not an outsider, she was not a kaldorei. She was a quel’dorei, one that was living in dishonour after her horrendous failure (which she’d only touched upon when she revealed to Tyrande her true name). She imagined Tyrande probably had a hundred suitors far more appropriate than one infatuated high elf with nothing to offer.

           On a note of vanity, Tyrande was beautiful. Tall, slender, without a blemish on her. Her dark teal hair always appeared to shimmer in the forest’s dim, magical light. Sylvanas hadn’t forgotten what she now looked like. She did not dare reveal skin, as the Scourge had seen to it that most of her was scarred and ugly. It’d taken a while for Sylvanas to finally reveal her face, to pretend as if the lengthy gash running from under her eye to her chin didn’t infuriate her.

           Though there was one curious change to her appearance. Windrunner noticed her eyes were beginning to dimly glow – but not blue. Instead, at times, Sylvanas caught sight of her reflection and swore that there was a silvery-gleam coming from them.

           She knew her people readily absorbed magic, she also noticed how her body didn’t ache from withdrawal anymore. The ranger privately pondered over the possibility that she adapting to the foreign influence around her.

           Her clothing had certainly changed. Slowly the human influence on her had waned, replaced with garb that resembled the kaldorei archers. Her cloak was a shimmering white, as were her pauldrons and bracers.

           Though she would not in any way willingly ride a hippogriff. No, the kaldorei could keep them.

           She took a chance and looked to the conversing trio.

           Her gaze was met by Tyrande’s.

           Oh.

           Well there was no way of denying she’d looked this time. A flutter of nervousness danced in Sylvanas’ chest as the priestess took her leave of the conversation and walked towards the ranger.

           She glanced at her bow, as if somehow it could save her.

           Well unless she planned on shooting Whisperwind, the weapon would do no good.

           Tyrande joined her a moment later, Sylvanas offered half a smile.

           “This place is beautiful,” she noted, ignoring how she more-so meant the compliment for the priestess but was not brave enough to admit it.

           Still, the area was pretty. She wasn’t lying.

           She glanced at Jada and Merisse, who’d taken to continue their conversation with one another.

           “I apologize if I took you from our companions,” she regarded Tyrande once more, watching as she sat opposite of her. “I was just… thinking.”

         The truth, but the reasoning as to why she’d been admiring Tyrande while she’d been thinking was suspect.

[diguerra-moved]

sunrunnerrs‌ // AIRLIA.

❝  Possibilities  are  more  than  I  hoped  for  …  ❞  It  may  not  have  been  definitive  either  way,  but  it  was  not  an  outright  no.  ❝  …  The  Elf  Gates  that  protected  our  outer  territories  may  not  be  possible  to  restore  at  this  point.  I  know  that  you  were  able  to  visit  Silvermoon  not  long  ago  –  but  I  can’t  imagine  Lor’themar  would  have  shown  you  the  scar  that  still  tarnishes  our  lands.  Hardly  a  thing  one  would  wish  to  show  an  esteemed  guest.  ❞  Despite  her  attempt  to  make  light  of  it,  there  was  still  a  pain  etched  into  her  smile. ❝  The  Lich  King  and  his  army  deadened  the  land  they  marched  across,  and  it’s  yet  to  show  any  sign  of  recovery.  That  portion  of  Silvermoon  is  uninhabitable  now  –  it  would  be  foolish  to  attempt  to  build  over  such  taint.  I  –  …  hope  to  restore  at  least  that  within  the  city.  The  land  may  heal  on  it’s  own  now  that  the  Sunwell’s  energy  offers  it  Holy  Light  as  well,  but  it  could  take  centuries.  It  will  be  an  taxing  task  to  take  on  on  my  own,  but  I  have  hope  that  I’ll  be  successful.  ❞  With  the  Sunwell’s  aid,  surely  she  could  lessen  even  a  portion  of  it? A  thoughtful  look  crossed  her  features  as  the  Priestess’s  pale  gaze  focused  on  nothing  in  particular,  ❝  I  do  wonder  …  –  In  it’s  creation,  the  Sunwell  as  a  fount  of  pure  arcane  energy.  I  imagine  that  was  why  only  Magisters  were  able  to  uphold  Ban’dinoriel.  Do  you  suppose,  now  that  the  Light  has  been  infused  with  in  it,  Priests  could  offer  the  same  support?  ❞

"The circumstances of my visit were adverse enough as was, I think. Lor'themar was a most gracious host nevertheless." Reply does not demean nor ignores Airlia's attempt at lightheartedness, regardless of it's success; rather, Thalyssra offers sympathy in her smile and similarly light tone, in spite of speaking of matters not light at all. "Indeed, I have not seen the damage the Lich King wrought in your kingdom, though I have heard of it. I do not imagine it would be easily mended, as some sorts of magic do tend to leave lasting marks."

Such was the case of magic dealt in death, but also that powered by demonic fel. The First Arcanist heeds the priestess' words, pondering them briefly. "In theory, a combination of arcane and light wielders both would likely prove to be best --- if those are the energies that compose the Sunwell, they would be more easily manipulated by one with skills with both sources, but failing that, different people in a combined effort might prove just as effective."

"A priest or mage alone might not be capable to do it alone, although there are variables to take into consideration, such as what composes the Sunwell in greater quantity, and then what would be the composition of the barrier itself.” Thalyssra did not hesitate in diving deeper in possibilities, since Airlia seemed so willing to discuss them; it was no useless theorizing, either --- if naught more, it could provide them the foundation to devise the shield the priestess sought to restore. The First Arcanist had a sincere wish to help; it would be only fair when the sin’dorei had helped Suramar so. “Being mixed in nature, the most likely is that both mages and priests would be necessary, I would think. Still, one or the other might be able to sustain it though, albeit probably not as effectively.”

[diguerra-moved]

sunrunnerrs‌ // RANGER GENERAL.

❝  Mm,  got  one  of  the  words  right.  ❞  He  was  listening,  however,  to  more  than  just  her  name.  Not  once  was  she  interrupted  as  she  all  but  scolded  him  for  his  lack  of  positioning  the  Knights  in  more  combative  areas.  Having  them  in  the  city  had  had  a  desired  effect  (to  calm  the  anxieties  of  their  people  knowing  Silvermoon  was  tightly  secure).  Not  to  mention  a  good  lot  of  them  had  previously  been  royal  guards  (or  some  kind  of  guard),  he’d  assumed  they’d  feel  comfortable  there.  But  part  of  his  sweeping  them  to  random  places  was  that  he  didn’t  truly  know  what  they  were  capable  of  (what  they  could  handle).  He  knew  his  rangers.   Halduron  had  not  been  against  the  Blood  Knights  formation  –  but  rather  the  torture  of  an  innocent  creature.  He’d  gotten  tired  of  having  ‘a  necessary  evil’  be  tossed  around  to  excuse  the  behavior  that  their  people  had  fallen  into  the  habit  of.  He  wanted  their  survival  just  as  much  as  the  next,  but  he  hated  to  think  where  they’d  be  if  someone  like  Rommath  had  been  left  in  charge  instead.  Loyal  as  he  was,  Halduron  still  questioned  what  lengths  he’d  go  to  and  how  much  he’d  justify  for  ‘the  good  of  their  people’.  There  were  still  a  few  things  he’d  gotten  away  with  that  Halduron  would  have  happily  argued  were  for  the  good  of  none  past  those  in  power. Regardless,  he  mulled  over  her  suggestions  with  a  thoughtful  look.  ❝  You’re  exposed  in  the  Ghostlands  in  a  way  my  Rangers  are  not.  I  can’t,  in  good  faith,  send  any  of  you  out  there  knowing  you  have  no  where  to  easily  fall  back  to.  ❞  Scourge  were  deadly  in  numbers,  but  they  weren’t  intelligent  nor  particularly  fast.  The  Farstriders  could  easily  escape  them  if  needed,  but  Halduron  didn’t  hold  the  same  faith  in  a  plate  wearing  class.  They  just  couldn’t  get  a  good  number  of  what  was  left  in  the  Ghostlands.  Liadrin  sending  her  Knights  out  in  mass  was  one  thing,  but  Halduron  (despite  his  position)  did  not  feel  comfortable  positioning  a  large  amount  of  her  followers  for  her  –  and  he  certainly  wouldn’t  send  them  alone. Yet,  he  understood  Kelantir’s  frustration.  There  wasn’t  much  to  do  in  the  city  these  days,  and  Eversong  was  nearly  completely  secured  at  this  point.  The  Ghostlands,  however,  were  still  a  vexing  problem.  Deatholme  was  proving  to  be  a  larger  issue  than  anticipated,  one  they  couldn’t  afford  to  let  grow.  Maybe  having  Light  wielding  soldiers  out  there  could  prove  a  good  enough  barrier.  The  Ranger  General  shifted  from  his  languid  position,  moving  to  the  large  strategy  table  in  the  center  of  the  room.  Leaning  over  it,  his  index  finger  scaled  along  maps  before  finding  the  point  of  interest,  ❝  How  about  this.  You  get  enough  Blood  Knights  willing  to  take  back  Tranquillen,  and  I’ll  send  you  out  there  with  a  group  of  rangers  for  cover  until  it’s  secure.  That  way  I  can  at  least  know  you  have  somewhere  fortified  to  fall  back,  should  you  need  it.  ❞ 

In an ideal setting, a task force mixing rangers and knights both may have been more effective; still, this was far from being an option when not only they were not familiar enough with each other’s styles and tactics, there was blatant animosity between both groups (from both sides; the rangers disliked them, yes, but it would be a lie to claim most of the Blood Knights to not feel similarly towards the Farstriders). Having them work separately would be more productive, even if they worked towards a same goal; but having both groups take part in it would also mean they wouldn’t each be dedicated exclusively to a single goal, and other points would also benefit of having both the paladins and the rangers working towards something. 

“We may not be as swift, but we can withstand far more than rangers can.” It was not boasting when stated in such matter-of-factly tone. “And the Holy Light is particularly effective when it comes to fighting undead.” She stepped closer to the table as well, watching the Ranger General find what he was looking for. What he proposes then is something she’s much more agreeable to than initial plan had been; surely, Kelantir did think the paladins could be used to do more still, but this was good enough compromise --- and more than that, having a strong position in Tranquillien would make it easier to spread out their control over the area, between that and the Farstriders Enclave. 

“We would not need rangers’s support,” And in this some annoyance cannot be avoided entirely, try as she does to keep it from showing. Somehow it feels like distrust in their skills, that they cannot do it on their own, and part of her cannot help wondering how impartial he was capable of being, as a ranger himself. “yet it is a sound idea. Tranquillien being secured would be a great advantage, and having somewhere to fall back to is a good precaution.”

“A good first step towards making better use of our skills --- certainly an improvement from your formerly shit plan, sir.” Commentary is offered with good humor, the shadow of a smile on her lips as golden eyes flicker towards Brightwing once more (his mistake to not reprimand her when given the chance, instead so laid back in his approach before he did start talking strategy; had he not chosen to be funny when it came to her name?). “Many of the Blood Knights would be willing to do it, I’m sure --- and I believe Lady Liadrin would approve as well.”

[diguerra-moved]

sunrunnerrs‌ // AIRLIA.

Airlia  made  herself  as  comfortable  as  she  could,  keeping  at  bay  the  bits  of  anxiety  that  buzzed  against  her  chest,  ❝  No,  thank  you  –  perhaps  later,  though.  ❞  She  was  admittedly  a  bit  curious  about  their  wines,  but  now  was  not  the  time  for  personal  indulgences.  There  was  an  obvious  curiosity  in  the  Arcanist’s  gaze,  not  that  this  was  exactly  a  ‘cloak  and  dagger’  meeting,  ❝  Hopefully  not  something  that  will  come  to  vex  me  later  on.  ❞  She  hoped,  even  if  Lor’themar  was  upset  by  this,  it  wouldn’t  be  anything  they  couldn’t  smooth  out  between  themselves. ❝  I  understand  that  Suramar  has  been  isolated  for  millennia,  longer  than  even  Quel’thalas  has  existed.  I  am  …  curious  as  to  the  nature  of  the  barrier  that  was  held  around  your  city.  Not  without  reason.  Quel’thalas  once  had  an  impenetrable  barrier  as  well.  Ban'dinoriel  –  The  Gate  Keeper.  It  was  powered  by  moon  crystals,  the  Sunwell,  and  the  ley  lines  of  our  lands.  We  were  betrayed  from  within,  the  moon  crystals  destroyed,  and  our  magisters  powerful  enough  to  maintain  the  barrier  on  their  own  were  slain  …  ❞  It  was  not  long  ago  (not  long  enough  ago).  It  was  an  unconscious  motion,  the  way  her  pale  hands  clenched  slightly  at  the  fabric  of  her  gown  resting  against  the  tops  of  her  legs.  …  It  was  better  Lor’themar  not  be  present  … ❝  –  I’ve  come  to  learn  the  Shal’dorei  have  a  particular  affinity  for  ley  lines  –  more  so  than  my  people.  I  do  not  wish  to  become  isolationists  again;  I  never  agreed  with  it  even  when  our  late  King  Anasterian  thought  it  best  for  us.  But,  Ban’dinoriel  was  …  ❞  Vital.  Vital  to  their  survival.  There  was  still  so  much  fear  among  her  people,  to  the  point  of  taking  the  hands  of  those  that  were  once  sworn  enemies  just  for  a  sense  of  security.  It  was  true  that  Airlia  would  not  see  her  people  rejoin  the  Alliance  any  sooner  than  she  would  see  them  stay  among  the  ranks  of  the  Horde.  Neither  faction  proved  to  hold  them  in  esteem;  some  not  seeing  them  as  anything  past  blood  to  sacrifice  to  (unworthy)  causes. ❝  I  believe  it  would  bring  my  people  a  great  deal  of  comfort  that  they  have  been  robbed  of,  to  know  that  it  could  be  erected  again,  should  Silvermoon  need  it.  –  I  am  not  holding  onto  any  expectations  that  you’ll  be  able  to  offer  any  information  that  may  help;  I  assure  you  there  is  no  pressure  to  find  an  answer  should  you  not  know  it.  As  a  Priestess,  arcane  magics  are  not  a  forte  of  mine,  and  the  treachery  that  led  to  Ban’dinoriel  being  shattered  is  still  too  fresh  a  wound  to  be  openly  discussed.  ❞

Even were she not perceptive enough, the demeanor denounces Airlia’s obvious discomfort at matter discussed, quiet distress in clenching of hands even as she offers the First Arcanist brief background of her homeland’s tale. Thalyssra has, of course, heard some of it; details were, however, not so easily offered, and neither would she press for them knowing it to be the painful story it was. If there is attentiveness in the mage’s gaze, there is obvious sympathy also; the sin’dorei had been through much that the shal’dorei similarly suffered, and as they had shown the Nightborne compassion, so did Thalyssra feel compassion towards them for their past plights.

“I see.” Acknowledgment came with the wish she had more to offer than she truly had, though Thalyssra hoped it not to disappoint the priestess entirely. “The shield around Suramar was meant to isolate as completely as to allow us to withstand the Legion and the Sundering. Because of that, it was an elaborate spell, and required a number of our most powerful mages to be erected, even though it was powered by the Nightwell.”

Information is freely offered; it was not defense Suramar still relied on, and there were other such ways to create a new shield, even if they would not be as simple with the Nightwell destroyed. “But if your Ban’dinoriel was not meant to be entirely isolating, perhaps a variation of it could be devised --- and with the use of ley lines and the Sunwell to sustain it, perhaps the moon crystals would not be needed at all.” Seemed both a sound enough path and one possible to achieve; after all, if treachery had formerly destroyed the shield, best to establish one in a different way and prevent it to be shattered a second time, and if Suramar’s own shield had relied on the Nightwell’s power, likely the same could be done through the Sunwell. 

“I fear I cannot offer anything other than possibilities... but I do believe it can be done. Not the same way your shield originally was, perhaps, but in a way that would work similarly enough as far as protection is concerned.”

[diguerra-moved]

sunrunnerrs replied to your post: How did Kelantir survive Arthas little uninvited...

arthas: i hear you guys have never had a winter veil IVE GOT GREAT NEWS–

arthas just wanted to decorate the sunwell for winter veil obviously

[diguerra-moved]

sunrunnerrs‌ // RANGER GENERAL.

The  meeting  was  going  well  enough.  Halduron  may  not  have  had  experience  running  an  entire  military  force,  but  he’d  been  in  a  position  of  authority  for  most  his  life.  The  only  problem  he  was  running  into  was  that  he  was  used  to  ordering  rangers  –  not  anyone  else.  The  Blood  Knights  themselves  were  still  very  new,  and  he  couldn’t  claim  to  know  (yet)  the  best  tactics  in  which  to  utilize  them.  Their  holy  power  was  useful,  but  their  numbers  were  still  small.  It  was  prompting  him  to  perhaps  under-use  them. He’d  yet  to  be  met  with  complaints,  but  his  winning  streak  was  about  to  hit  a  wall.  A  feminine  voice  chimed  out  among  the  Knights,  prompting  all  eyes  to  turn  toward  her  petite  figure,  ❝  With  all  due  respect,  Ranger  General,  your  plan  is  shit.  ❞  Halduron  was  the  only  one  to  find  a  grin  forming  across  his  lips,  while  other’s  (such  as  Rommath)  were  more  inclined  to  bark  at  her  to  keep  a  tone  suggestive  of  her  rank.  Anyone  of  Liadrin’s  was  going  to  have  a  bite  far  worse  than  their  growl,  that  should  have  been  expected. Halduron  settled  the  room,  soothing  out  the  ruffled  tempers  before  dismissing  everyone  to  their  posts,  ❝  –  Except  for  you.  ❞  A  hand  was  motioned  towards  Kelantir,  ordering  her  to  stay  put.  Being  Ranger  General  had  it’s  pros  and  cons,  and  ironically  he’d  come  to  find  one  of  the  cons  being  the  unwillingness  to  speak  against  him.  Lor’themar  (and  Rommath  unfortunately)  were  the  only  ones  who  seemed  to  have  no  qualms  with  telling  him  ‘absolutely  not’.  The  thing  was:  he  wanted  feedback  –  needed  it,  even. Did  he  honestly  think  his  entire  plan  was  ‘shit’,  no.  Could  it  be  better?  Maybe?  That’s  what  he  was  aiming  to  find  out  now.  The  seriousness  of  his  demeanor  seemed  to  drip  away  as  he  crossed  his  arms,  leaning  casually  back  against  the  wall,  ❝  Let’s  hear  it  then,  Miss  Blood  Knight.  What  would  you  do  differently.  ❞

She had overstepped her position, perhaps; it wouldn’t have been the first time. Sure, Kelantir could have worded that better; maybe it had been the general disregard towards the Blood Knights (lingering still, specially where rangers were concerned), or maybe that his planning seemed so utterly focused on Farstriders that one may think those were all the forces he had available to use --- regardless, it was frustrating. She hadn’t spoken out of disrespect for the Ranger General; even if Brightwing was far from having as much respect from her as Liadrin.

Naturally, at the dismissal of others but not herself, she expected to be admonished for her insubordination (it would have been fair; and the Grand Magister in the least had been very vocal about her inadequate behavior). No protest is offered as she halts step she hadn’t quite had the time to take; and whether she feels angry or ashamed, impassiveness does not betray her feelings, golden eyes watching others leave before gaze turns to the General himself. 

Surprise, however, does shine through in slight widening of eyes, in arched eyebrow as she listens to him instead ask about her opinion on what should be changed (part of her still expects this to be nothing more than an elaborate way to reprimand her, somehow; other part makes her narrow eyes at his casual demeanor, or that he refers to her as Miss Blood Knight). “My name is Kelantir Bloodblade, sir.”

Even then, there is slight hesitation in proceeding, expectation he does not truly mean to listen (not that he wasn’t given to listening --- she wouldn’t know --- but because listening to one who had so openly criticized him wasn’t something most people would do). It does not come; and if she is yet uncertain of what he really wants, Kelantir decides she might as well speak, and if he listens or not, well, that is beyond what she can do.

“Well, for a start you might want to actually make use of the resources you have beyond Farstriders.” The rangers had always been vital part of the cities defenses; after all, it had always been a ranger to lead their entire military forces. She understood that; while some of her colleagues were still antagonistic towards the rangers due to the open opposition they had shown the Blood Knights before, Kelantir did not resent them. Neither did she think relying entirely on rangers was the wisest course. “You are assigning Blood Knights to common guard duties. Common guards can be used for those --- while our numbers are few, paladins are more than just simple soldiers. We are efficient in the front lines, and can heal as much as fight. In the chance of direct close combat, we would be much more effective than rangers --- and we have knowledge of the land too, even if we are not attuned to the woods as you are.” 

“Lady Liadrin has sent most of us on several missions on the Ghostlands. If you mean to strengthen our positions there, it seems like a dire oversight not to have Blood Knights be part of the main forces.” She has a care to tone down the assertiveness, then, acknowledging she might yet again be toeing the line of what he would find disrespectful. "And in doing so, the rangers would not be as heavily taxed.” Falls silent, then, golden eyes meeting his in looking for reaction while waiting for his reply.

[diguerra-moved]

sunrunnerrs‌ // AIRLIA.

Airlia’s  lips  parted  in  intention  to  answer,  yet  a  heavy  pause  came  instead.  Formality  urged  her  to  choose  the  Nighthold;  it  was  the  proper  setting  for  a  meeting  such  as  this.  While  the  blonde  hoped  to  one  day  call  the  woman  before  her  a  friend,  she  could  not  claim  as  much  now.  It  would  be  terribly  informal  to  visit  her  estate  when  familiarity  had  yet  to  be  established.  –  However,  the  instance  that  it  would  be  far  more  private  pulled  at  her  as  well.  These  were  delicate  issues;  ones  she  would  not  be  keen  to  have  overheard.  She  simply  didn’t  know  enough  of  her  surroundings  to  default  to  a  proper  choice. ❝  –  I  would  not  normally  suggest  it  for  formalities  sake,  but  perhaps  your  estate  would  be  best  suited  for  the  topic.  ❞  Allowing  her  hostess  to  guide  the  way,  Airlia’s  lower  lip  was  trapped  in  a  worrying  gnaw  of  her  teeth.  It  wasn’t  just  the  location,  but  the  conversation  to  be  had  as  well.  It  was  quite  possible  he’d  be  cross  with  her  for  not  discussing  this  with  him  before  hand,  but  she  did  know  it  was  not  something  easily  discussed.  For  as  much  as  she  adored  Lor’themar,  he  could  be  quite  set  in  his  ways. Surely  it  wouldn’t  hurt  just  to  discuss  the  possibility…  There  were  no  promises,  or  even  expectations.  Information  was  more  of  what  she  was  after  –  something  that  she  couldn’t  be  sure  Thalyssra  would  have  either.  Simply  put,  this  wasn’t  just  about  Lor’themar  and  it  was  her  duty  to  try.  Placing  her  worries  aside  as  the  estate  came  into  view,  she  offered  the  Dusklily  an  appreciative  smile,  ❝  Your  home  is  lovely.  ❞  A  bit  too  close  to  the  sea  for  her  personal  liking,  but  the  water  was  calm  enough  not  to  crash  against  the  shoreline. 

If the suggestion (and even Airlia’s own acceptance) may seem to the sin’dorei as overstepping boundaries, it was not the First Arcanist’s intention at all; rather, one’s home was seldom kept apart from politics in Suramar, ofttimes being the setting for meetings that might draw unwanted attention otherwise. Even in times of relative peace, the politics of Thalyssra’s homeland tended to be a dangerous matter; and while this did not concern the inner works of Suramar (or so she believed), it seemed whatever discussion Airlia wished to have would be best had in a setting that would allow them as much discretion as possible.

Reassurances in that regard offered as they make it for the estate, Thalyssra offers her a polite smile and ‘thank you’ at the compliment upon arrival, before leading her guest inside. The living room matches the estate’s, and indeed, the city’s aesthetic, making use of colors and designs the shal’dorei clearly favored. Perhaps she could offer to show Airlia around the estate later, but as was, the other elf seemed much too concerned with the discussion they were about to have (and Thalyssra herself could not avoid wondering, yet again, what was this all about; nothing came to mind that would be such secretive topic). “Please, have a seat. If we are to discuss sensitive matters, we ought to at least do it comfortably. Can I offer you anything? A drink, perhaps?”

Once they were settled, the First Arcanist did not delay in offering Airlia the chance to speak. “Now that we are here... what was it you wished to discuss?” Sees no reason to skirt around it, blatantly providing Airlia with opportunity to speak directly as well, should she so wish. If Thalyssra is curious (somewhat concerned, beyond intrigued) her tone remains just as serene as it was before. “It seemed quite serious, for you to come to me without consulting Lor’themar.”

[diguerra-moved]

She can hear him, of course; too many years a ranger, a soldier, to be caught unaware (and paladins rarely tread lightly enough to go unnoticed). It takes her a moment longer than it would have in the field, longer than it would have even in a relaxed day; overwhelmed by own feelings, the world around her had been muted enough Alleria does not notice until he is much too close. Does not care, even then; whoever it is, she does not spare them even a glance, hopes she wasn’t seen, hopes they will ignore her either way, inconsequential thing that she is, clearly more comfortable in her darkness than she would have been anywhere else.

Isn’t being alone better? Here she does not risk hurting anyone (here she does not risk letting others hurt her). Alleria can hear the step taken away, feels relieved when she does; but hesitation that follows denounces uncertainty to leave, and she’s certain if they hadn’t noticed her before, they surely did then. Worse yet, she isn’t left to her loneliness; soon enough steps come closer instead of going away, regardless of how much she wishes they didn’t, no matter that she does not look at them to acknowledge the other’s presence until they are much too close for comfort.

Whoever she expected, it had not been a familiar face. Familiar; as if she knew his face well, as if she knew it at all. Last she had seen him, he had been a little boy staring at stone-carved faces he did not recognize; the memory so deeply etched into her memory she can easily draw comparison to the man who approaches her then, quietly sitting beside her. You shouldn’t; the words never leave her lips (she fears attempt to speak will make it worse, that she’ll break entirely, that he’ll think she is pushing him away). They are true, nevertheless; he shouldn’t be there, shouldn’t see her like that, unmaking herself in tears from everything she knows not how to process.

It is the one whose likeness was carved in stone he deserved to have as a mother; the legendary hero, willing to sacrifice everything to save the world. He deserves her, who would have been a fierce fighter and compassionate person both, she who fought for what was good and righteous. He deserves the mother that only left because she ought to, because it was the only way to fight for something so much bigger than her own desires; not this. Not what she is. Not the one who is falling apart in front of him, broken beyond repair.

He deserves more, better. He always had. There is nothing new to the thought, certainty that had filled her from the moment she had first held him, a tiny thing that fit so well in her arms; certainty that continued to follow as she saw him grow into a little boy, sunshine incarnate that pushed away her darkness even when she so clung to it.

When he reaches for her hand, she feels that this in the least seems entirely unchanged.

Alleria doesn’t want to take it. She wants him to leave, to not have to see the mother he had only just met in such state. She wants to be left alone, the way that would be better for her, the way that would be better for everyone. Arator does not have the memories she has, does not know her like she had known him (had; she cannot claim to known him still, a man grown, when she had not been there to see such growth happen). He deserved better. He deserved a family. And he had no reason to not hate her for robbing him of it, for leaving, yet here he is, sitting beside her in the Vindicaar’s cold polished floor, reaching for her hand in a gesture of support that is worth so much more than any words of reassurance would have been.

She doesn’t want to take it, but she does. Some part of her, oddly detached of everything, muses on when had been the last time she had held anyone’s hand (it had been so long ago). It requires more of an effort for her to remain quiet in her falling apart, then; but tears flow even more freely, staining her cheeks in spite of how much she hates herself for being so weak in front of her son.

Arator does not say a word, and she cannot find words to say, either; doubts she would succeed in saying them, even should she try. There they are, strangers in every way while bound by a bond so strong; entirely foreign to each other while meaning so much. He should hate her, not hold her hand; he should be angry, not offering quiet comfort. But Arator had always been all that was right and bright and good in the world, beyond it even; and it is companionship he offers, the unspoken promise that she is not alone, even if he does not know what is wrong --- even if he does not know her at all.

It is not enough to mend wounds too deep, to end the bottomless aching of her heart; not entirely. It brings an entirely different brand of age-old hurts, of regret and guilt that would never truly leave her, not with how much she certainly had caused him to hurt. Feelings are still raw, still bleeding; but there is something of soothing in even just his presence, comfort to be taken in gentle touch. Arator had always shone brightly, bright as the sun itself; and with him there, the dark no longer seems so endless.

Arator was struggling. Today was…it was the day his parents finally returned. It was supposed to be the day his loneliness faded and his parents embraced him. Maybe that was too much to ask for. Too unreasonable a request from these strangers. They had no answers for him that he had not heard before. Had it really been that difficult to see him before now, to send a message?

He tried to put aside all of the evidence to the contrary. Struggled to feel as though he was no more than a burden to be put to the side in favor of an endless war. Yet he thought of Light’s Heart and the message that was sent to Azeroth, to be activated by his presence, but containing little more than a warning for others.

He thought of Lothraxion and the Aurubos. How close he had been to the ship, and the Army that came from it to defend the Netherlight Temple. So easy for the army to come to the defense of other followers of the Light, but what of his parents? Had the always had the ability to travel like that?

Arator scolded himself for being so upset at them, his long lost parents. Even if they could have sent a message, or visited him, to feel he was owed any of that was childish. To think he had the right to demand it when their work was so very important. Much more important than one child.

Yet it still hurt. Would always hurt. Even if he believed it unreasonable, and tried to convince himself his abandonment was necessary.

All his doubting did was make their reunion that much more difficult. He expected too much. Placed too much importance on his own wishes. There was no time for bonding. Now was the time for war, and it was never far away.

Already it had visited the Xenedar. He had witnessed Light’s Heart being returned to the Prime Naaru Xe’ra, only for her to be destroyed. Being in Xe’ras presence had been…nice. The warmest sensation he had felt this entire trip. Witnessing her was like being bathed in the radiance of a rising sun. He had felt as if anything was possible.

It did not last long. His awe had quickly become horror as he witnessed Xe’ra’s attempt at forcing destiny upon Illidan. That was not what destiny looked like, nor was it right. The Light, for as wonderful as it is, was not something to be pressed upon another. For it to be benevolent, it had to be willingly accepted.

He felt stupid for questioning the actions of the Prime Naaru, but less stupid when she exploded. In just the span of a few minutes, Arator went from knowing very little about naaru to knowing that they could be wrong, and could be destroyed.

Turalyon, his father, had immediately attempted to attack Illidan afterwards. His fury still permeated the ship even now after the fighting had died down. The High Exarch was now busy with the other members of his army, attempting damage control and trying to figure out what their plan was next.

Alleria, his mother, was much harder to get a read on. Whatever she was feeling was being kept close to the vest. Shock was certainly worn on her face but little else. Arator hides his own protests when she excuses herself to tend to matters elsewhere.

They are both busy again. Busy with their own plans, their own wars, and though he traveled here to see them, to help them, he feels as though he is simply a burden. He does not stop them from doing what they must, he never will. However, he does decide to find something for himself to do.

Perhaps he would travel down to Argus and assist the Highlord. If he was on the ground and fighting the Legion, then at least he was engaging in the same war as his parents. Might give him something to talk with them about.

Before he would decide on his next action, Arator went about exploring the ship. It was beautiful and alien, yet the warmth from the light it permeated familiar. He was curious about it’s secrets and went about slowly exploring them. He explored without concern or care, doubting there was a single threat on the ship. Even the shadows in the dungeon were explored, though he did question the need for dungeons.

Arator was returning to the bridge when he noticed something in the shadows. A place people might not normally look and only the insatiably curious had a chance of stumbling upon. This was probably why they chose it. That and who among a ship of paladins and lightforged would look into the shadows? Only one who had a habit of finding those broken and seeking redemption.

Though she seemed to have picked this spot just to hide. Though a small ball in her hiding spot, he still recognized her golden hair as his own. She did not see him, could not with her face hidden. Arator knew he should leave her there, to deal with those emotions she clearly wanted to hide. He did not know her well enough to help, much less to feel allowed to. A step was taken, it’s intention to quietly walk away, but once the distance began he felt certainly it would only grow if he kept moving.

Knew her or not, it was nowhere in his nature to abandon someone in need. He did not know what was wrong, or how to help, but he also knew he could not leave her to go through it alone. Arator turned and walked towards her, towards his mother, and took a seat beside her. There were no words of comfort he could think of which would ease her unknown suffering, so he said nothing. Instead he reached out a hand and placed it on top of hers.

He did not know how to help his mother, but he was certainly skilled at helping strangers, and sometimes all one needed was a reminder they were not alone in the shadows.

[diguerra-moved]

Arator was struggling. Today was…it was the day his parents finally returned. It was supposed to be the day his loneliness faded and his parents embraced him. Maybe that was too much to ask for. Too unreasonable a request from these strangers. They had no answers for him that he had not heard before. Had it really been that difficult to see him before now, to send a message?

He tried to put aside all of the evidence to the contrary. Struggled to feel as though he was no more than a burden to be put to the side in favor of an endless war. Yet he thought of Light’s Heart and the message that was sent to Azeroth, to be activated by his presence, but containing little more than a warning for others.

He thought of Lothraxion and the Aurubos. How close he had been to the ship, and the Army that came from it to defend the Netherlight Temple. So easy for the army to come to the defense of other followers of the Light, but what of his parents? Had the always had the ability to travel like that?

Arator scolded himself for being so upset at them, his long lost parents. Even if they could have sent a message, or visited him, to feel he was owed any of that was childish. To think he had the right to demand it when their work was so very important. Much more important than one child.

Yet it still hurt. Would always hurt. Even if he believed it unreasonable, and tried to convince himself his abandonment was necessary.

All his doubting did was make their reunion that much more difficult. He expected too much. Placed too much importance on his own wishes. There was no time for bonding. Now was the time for war, and it was never far away.

Already it had visited the Xenedar. He had witnessed Light’s Heart being returned to the Prime Naaru Xe’ra, only for her to be destroyed. Being in Xe’ras presence had been…nice. The warmest sensation he had felt this entire trip. Witnessing her was like being bathed in the radiance of a rising sun. He had felt as if anything was possible.

It did not last long. His awe had quickly become horror as he witnessed Xe’ra’s attempt at forcing destiny upon Illidan. That was not what destiny looked like, nor was it right. The Light, for as wonderful as it is, was not something to be pressed upon another. For it to be benevolent, it had to be willingly accepted.

He felt stupid for questioning the actions of the Prime Naaru, but less stupid when she exploded. In just the span of a few minutes, Arator went from knowing very little about naaru to knowing that they could be wrong, and could be destroyed.

Turalyon, his father, had immediately attempted to attack Illidan afterwards. His fury still permeated the ship even now after the fighting had died down. The High Exarch was now busy with the other members of his army, attempting damage control and trying to figure out what their plan was next.

Alleria, his mother, was much harder to get a read on. Whatever she was feeling was being kept close to the vest. Shock was certainly worn on her face but little else. Arator hides his own protests when she excuses herself to tend to matters elsewhere.

They are both busy again. Busy with their own plans, their own wars, and though he traveled here to see them, to help them, he feels as though he is simply a burden. He does not stop them from doing what they must, he never will. However, he does decide to find something for himself to do.

Perhaps he would travel down to Argus and assist the Highlord. If he was on the ground and fighting the Legion, then at least he was engaging in the same war as his parents. Might give him something to talk with them about.

Before he would decide on his next action, Arator went about exploring the ship. It was beautiful and alien, yet the warmth from the light it permeated familiar. He was curious about it’s secrets and went about slowly exploring them. He explored without concern or care, doubting there was a single threat on the ship. Even the shadows in the dungeon were explored, though he did question the need for dungeons.

Arator was returning to the bridge when he noticed something in the shadows. A place people might not normally look and only the insatiably curious had a chance of stumbling upon. This was probably why they chose it. That and who among a ship of paladins and lightforged would look into the shadows? Only one who had a habit of finding those broken and seeking redemption.

Though she seemed to have picked this spot just to hide. Though a small ball in her hiding spot, he still recognized her golden hair as his own. She did not see him, could not with her face hidden. Arator knew he should leave her there, to deal with those emotions she clearly wanted to hide. He did not know her well enough to help, much less to feel allowed to. A step was taken, it’s intention to quietly walk away, but once the distance began he felt certainly it would only grow if he kept moving.

Knew her or not, it was nowhere in his nature to abandon someone in need. He did not know what was wrong, or how to help, but he also knew he could not leave her to go through it alone. Arator turned and walked towards her, towards his mother, and took a seat beside her. There were no words of comfort he could think of which would ease her unknown suffering, so he said nothing. Instead he reached out a hand and placed it on top of hers.

He did not know how to help his mother, but he was certainly skilled at helping strangers, and sometimes all one needed was a reminder they were not alone in the shadows.

[diguerra-moved]

I like the rejection of the gift cinematic very much so I was watching it again and I have thoughts

1. Illidan is not thrilled from the start but each moment he speaks with Xe’Ra you can see how much angrier he gets. He tries to hold back from it, and when he states the Legion’s end is all he seeks he even manages to tone down the anger a bit, but immediately afterwards she demeans his goal and he’s furious again. After that it only gets progressively worse. He steps back, and when he speaks again, it’s clear her promises of exchanging freedom for power hit too close.

2. there is like one second after this before Xe’Ra outright attacks him that shows Alleria and Velen and I might be looking too much into it because it’s 1 second, but there’s tiny tiny reactions there when she starts speaking of prophecy. Velen narrows his eyes (probably because he has no idea where this is going), but Alleria’s widen a bit --- too little for it to be shock or surprise, but the way I see it, enough to be because she understood where this was going. Illidan was refusing Xe’Ra, but Xe’Ra wouldn’t kill her precious chosen one; this doesn’t mean she won’t try to impose the Light on him, and Alleria of all people would know that.

3. Turalyon’s eye color change will probably end up being the “Xe’Ra was literally blinding/enthralling him” and that sucks because I doubt everything surrounding it will be developed beyond that tbh and it’d be really nice to see actual explicit development concerning Turalyon going back to not being a zealot

4. Illidan fallen to the ground after destroying the prime naaru but still stopping Turalyon’s sword with a single hand? I stan a legend

5. Also he’s bleeding because he’s literally holding a sword and I learned he actually bleeds fel

6. Alleria’s commentary after that being “That was... unexpected. To think he had enough power to destroy her...” is on point because of course no one expected that turn of events but lol she won’t be mourning Xe’Ra, it is that Illidan had the power to do it that really shocks her (because honestly that he’d try is not unexpected and she can relate)

7. there’s just so much going on for Alleria and Illidan both and it’s certainly something that would have taken a while for both of them to process