She should have been
studying or completing her research paper, however as was her nature,
Malandrae had gotten distracted, and her distraction had turned into an
adventure of it's own. It had all started when she overheard some of the
citizens in Stormwind discussing the Day of the Dead; a two day
celebration of honoring the dead and the lost loved ones of the past.
Apparently the custom had spread far and wide, and many were taking
these two days in solemn remembrance of the past.
The idea had immediately began to stir Malandrae's thoughts about her own loved ones, and although her thoughts tended to be dark, she decided to do something positive with the concept and use the holiday as a time of healing. She immediately headed to Darnassus to pick up supplies for her venture. It had been a trial, but she'd managed to obtain everything she needed from the Temple of the Moon, despite the dirty looks and outright hostility that she'd received while there. She had shrugged off the hostility, knowing that her plan was a good one and that the Goddess would be pleased.
And so she found herself standing outside, the pale moonlight shining down on her as her boots crunched on the frozen snow. With each step she pressed deeper into the silent ruins of the Moonrest Gardens, nothing but the mournful wind to accompany her trek, at least to the visible eye. With her magical senses though, Malandrae knew that she was not really alone, and that the serene sight of the moon's light glimmering on the untouched snow had a hidden danger within it. All around her she could feel the restless spirits of the ruins pressing in, seeking out the source of intrusion in the place where they met their fate.
Malandrae smiled to herself, pushing on towards a tall, half-ruined marble structure up ahead. It had once been a small shrine set in the center of Moonrest; a place of peace and serenity in this portion of the settlement. It had been nestled amongst the most beautiful gardens that the night elves had ever created and the beauty of this place was renowned in Malandrae's time. It was here where she would perform her own little celebration for the Day of the Dead.
Malandrae had no loved ones to mourn. She was separated from them for countless thousands of years, and yet to her it had been only four or five weeks since their parting. She knew in her mind that they were gone, although she questioned whether or not they were actually dead. It was likely that they lived on, serving their Queen in the most hideous of forms as Naga, or perhaps living on eternally, cursed with the fel powers that they had embraced. All of her friends, her family, her lovers and those she worked with, all of them had taken these paths. None remained now to mourn, and she couldn't find it in her heart to face it anyway. She had come for another purpose.
Reaching her destination, she knelt down in the snow, taking her pack off and opening it. Slowly she took out a small golden stand, placing a glowing moonstone upon it. Before the stand she placed a bowl, and with a deft motion she took out a vial of softly glowing water, pouring it into the vessel. It was water from a moonwell, placed before a moonstone within a shrine that had once been dedicated to the Goddess. The pale light flowed out, bathing everything around it in a serene, soft glow. Malandrae's smile widened and she closed her eyes, feeling the soft radiance on her skin.
She could feel them behind her, besides her and all around. The restless dead, the Highborne who had fallen when half of Moonrest plunged into the ocean and the other half was shattered. They had suffered, had been drown and crushed, had starved to death as the world around them became impassable and they were separated from the other two continents, trapped forever in Northrend. They suffered still, their spirits unable to leave this place, unable to find peace with the disturbance of the Scourge all around and intruders within their ancient halls.
Slowly Malandrae rose and turned to face them. She could see them now, their pale forms shimmering in the light of the shrine she had made. Men, women, children; all had suffered and died, their spirits unable to move on. A scant few seemed to find the light of the shrine pleasing, their twisted faces seeming to relax slightly, but the rest stared at Malandrae with malice, as if she had actually done worse than simply intrude on their ruins.
Malandrae sighed, half reaching towards them as several drew closer, "It's alright. You can feel Her presence again. You don't need to suffer any longer. Tonight I honor the dead, as the other races mourn their lost ones. Come forward my brothers and sisters, and feel peace for a short time."
Several of the specters drifted towards Malandrae, their ghostly hands reaching for her. One brushed it's essence through her hair, stirring her cyan locks. She closed her eyes and sighed, "I am one of you. I know what you suffered."
The undead creature lashed out, striking Malandrae across the face. The blow stung, hurling her backwards into the snow. She lay there for a moment, blinking up as more of the dead spirits crowded forward, seeming almost to hesitate as they passed through the light of the shrine. Malandrae rubbed her cheek, soothing feeling back into her face where she had been hit.
"B-but I don't understand, I'm one of you. I simply survived. Is that why you hate me?" she murmured.
The specters ignored her for a moment, turning and thrashing at the shrine she'd built. The moonstone shattered under their blows, the water from the moonwell splashing into the snow and freezing as they overturned the glass bowl and shattered it against a nearby marble pillar.
Malandrae nodded slowly as she watched them, pushing herself up out of the snow and facing them. "I understand now. You think She abandoned you. You think that there is no where to go now, and that is why you linger on in hatred here. You are wrong though, She never abandoned us, WE abandoned Her. WE turned our faces from Her when we put our Queen in Her place. WE are at fault. Maybe...maybe she sent me here to show you, to release you."
A cold hiss rose up around the Highborne Sorceress as the words left her mouth. The spirits writhed in the air around her, their hatred and anger howling into the night. Malandrae sighed, a tear on her face even as the creatures lunged at her. "I'm so sorry, but I will not let you suffer longer. I release you."
Brilliant light filled the small ruined temple as Highborne magic flared in that space for the first time in over ten thousand years. Unearthly shrieks and howls trailed off through the night as Malandrae's arcane magic slashed spirits from the air before her, laying them to rest finally and allowing their tortured forms to disperse forever more. After she had cleared the space around her she paused, her eyes glowing silver-white with the arcane magic she held in her hands.
The eyes of the dead met her gaze, and she saw only sorrow, hatred and anger within them. There was no redemption, no peaceful release of the spirits of her people who had been trapped here. There was only malice, and the magic in her hands needed to give them peace at last.
Malandrae strode forward, the power of her people in her hands and her Goddess within her, guiding her. As her quest took her from the building, her voice rose in song, an ancient dirge for the dead flowing mournfully over the ruined buildings. It mixed with the howling of the wind, carried far from where she did her work, her own personal ceremony for the Day of the Dead. A ceremony she would repeat each year for the rest of her life, until ever one of her restless people were laid to rest and given peace at last.
**********************************
In the nearby ruins of Stardust, several night elf sentinels shivered and peered out into the night. A storm was coming, promising to drop more snow on the region. It was not the temperature drop that made the elves shiver though. Far from where they stood in the distant Moonrest gardens, unnatural lights flickered and flashed as magic flowed through the ruins.
On the winds their keen hearing could easily pick up the sound of a mournful song flowing over the ruins, the meaning of the words lost to time but filling their hearts with sorrow none-the-less. They exchanged glances and silently agreed not to investigate. It would not be right anyway, the spirits of Moonrest were finally being mourned after all this time by someone, and perhaps they would rest more easily in the years to come.
The idea had immediately began to stir Malandrae's thoughts about her own loved ones, and although her thoughts tended to be dark, she decided to do something positive with the concept and use the holiday as a time of healing. She immediately headed to Darnassus to pick up supplies for her venture. It had been a trial, but she'd managed to obtain everything she needed from the Temple of the Moon, despite the dirty looks and outright hostility that she'd received while there. She had shrugged off the hostility, knowing that her plan was a good one and that the Goddess would be pleased.
And so she found herself standing outside, the pale moonlight shining down on her as her boots crunched on the frozen snow. With each step she pressed deeper into the silent ruins of the Moonrest Gardens, nothing but the mournful wind to accompany her trek, at least to the visible eye. With her magical senses though, Malandrae knew that she was not really alone, and that the serene sight of the moon's light glimmering on the untouched snow had a hidden danger within it. All around her she could feel the restless spirits of the ruins pressing in, seeking out the source of intrusion in the place where they met their fate.
Malandrae smiled to herself, pushing on towards a tall, half-ruined marble structure up ahead. It had once been a small shrine set in the center of Moonrest; a place of peace and serenity in this portion of the settlement. It had been nestled amongst the most beautiful gardens that the night elves had ever created and the beauty of this place was renowned in Malandrae's time. It was here where she would perform her own little celebration for the Day of the Dead.
Malandrae had no loved ones to mourn. She was separated from them for countless thousands of years, and yet to her it had been only four or five weeks since their parting. She knew in her mind that they were gone, although she questioned whether or not they were actually dead. It was likely that they lived on, serving their Queen in the most hideous of forms as Naga, or perhaps living on eternally, cursed with the fel powers that they had embraced. All of her friends, her family, her lovers and those she worked with, all of them had taken these paths. None remained now to mourn, and she couldn't find it in her heart to face it anyway. She had come for another purpose.
Reaching her destination, she knelt down in the snow, taking her pack off and opening it. Slowly she took out a small golden stand, placing a glowing moonstone upon it. Before the stand she placed a bowl, and with a deft motion she took out a vial of softly glowing water, pouring it into the vessel. It was water from a moonwell, placed before a moonstone within a shrine that had once been dedicated to the Goddess. The pale light flowed out, bathing everything around it in a serene, soft glow. Malandrae's smile widened and she closed her eyes, feeling the soft radiance on her skin.
She could feel them behind her, besides her and all around. The restless dead, the Highborne who had fallen when half of Moonrest plunged into the ocean and the other half was shattered. They had suffered, had been drown and crushed, had starved to death as the world around them became impassable and they were separated from the other two continents, trapped forever in Northrend. They suffered still, their spirits unable to leave this place, unable to find peace with the disturbance of the Scourge all around and intruders within their ancient halls.
Slowly Malandrae rose and turned to face them. She could see them now, their pale forms shimmering in the light of the shrine she had made. Men, women, children; all had suffered and died, their spirits unable to move on. A scant few seemed to find the light of the shrine pleasing, their twisted faces seeming to relax slightly, but the rest stared at Malandrae with malice, as if she had actually done worse than simply intrude on their ruins.
Malandrae sighed, half reaching towards them as several drew closer, "It's alright. You can feel Her presence again. You don't need to suffer any longer. Tonight I honor the dead, as the other races mourn their lost ones. Come forward my brothers and sisters, and feel peace for a short time."
Several of the specters drifted towards Malandrae, their ghostly hands reaching for her. One brushed it's essence through her hair, stirring her cyan locks. She closed her eyes and sighed, "I am one of you. I know what you suffered."
The undead creature lashed out, striking Malandrae across the face. The blow stung, hurling her backwards into the snow. She lay there for a moment, blinking up as more of the dead spirits crowded forward, seeming almost to hesitate as they passed through the light of the shrine. Malandrae rubbed her cheek, soothing feeling back into her face where she had been hit.
"B-but I don't understand, I'm one of you. I simply survived. Is that why you hate me?" she murmured.
The specters ignored her for a moment, turning and thrashing at the shrine she'd built. The moonstone shattered under their blows, the water from the moonwell splashing into the snow and freezing as they overturned the glass bowl and shattered it against a nearby marble pillar.
Malandrae nodded slowly as she watched them, pushing herself up out of the snow and facing them. "I understand now. You think She abandoned you. You think that there is no where to go now, and that is why you linger on in hatred here. You are wrong though, She never abandoned us, WE abandoned Her. WE turned our faces from Her when we put our Queen in Her place. WE are at fault. Maybe...maybe she sent me here to show you, to release you."
A cold hiss rose up around the Highborne Sorceress as the words left her mouth. The spirits writhed in the air around her, their hatred and anger howling into the night. Malandrae sighed, a tear on her face even as the creatures lunged at her. "I'm so sorry, but I will not let you suffer longer. I release you."
Brilliant light filled the small ruined temple as Highborne magic flared in that space for the first time in over ten thousand years. Unearthly shrieks and howls trailed off through the night as Malandrae's arcane magic slashed spirits from the air before her, laying them to rest finally and allowing their tortured forms to disperse forever more. After she had cleared the space around her she paused, her eyes glowing silver-white with the arcane magic she held in her hands.
The eyes of the dead met her gaze, and she saw only sorrow, hatred and anger within them. There was no redemption, no peaceful release of the spirits of her people who had been trapped here. There was only malice, and the magic in her hands needed to give them peace at last.
Malandrae strode forward, the power of her people in her hands and her Goddess within her, guiding her. As her quest took her from the building, her voice rose in song, an ancient dirge for the dead flowing mournfully over the ruined buildings. It mixed with the howling of the wind, carried far from where she did her work, her own personal ceremony for the Day of the Dead. A ceremony she would repeat each year for the rest of her life, until ever one of her restless people were laid to rest and given peace at last.
**********************************
In the nearby ruins of Stardust, several night elf sentinels shivered and peered out into the night. A storm was coming, promising to drop more snow on the region. It was not the temperature drop that made the elves shiver though. Far from where they stood in the distant Moonrest gardens, unnatural lights flickered and flashed as magic flowed through the ruins.
On the winds their keen hearing could easily pick up the sound of a mournful song flowing over the ruins, the meaning of the words lost to time but filling their hearts with sorrow none-the-less. They exchanged glances and silently agreed not to investigate. It would not be right anyway, the spirits of Moonrest were finally being mourned after all this time by someone, and perhaps they would rest more easily in the years to come.
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