Perceptions

Celessiel sat beneath a giant mushroom, a toadstool the size of a chair making an improptu seat for her little camp. Around her, the sounds of a swamp in evening could be heard, with insects and amphibians vying with one another to make the loudest calls, and the distant splash of things moving through water echoing eerily.

Beside the death knight, a runeblade and specially prepared runeaxe lay across a blanket, and a merry little fire crackled before her tent, the wet chunks of mushroom used as a fuel source hissing and popping as she watched the flames dance. Her glowing eyes absorbed all of the light, taking in none of the warmth of the fire before her. After a time she slipped a small diary from her pocket, and set quill to it.

I have traveled far now from Hellfire Pennisula. After clearing the ravagers around Falcon Watch and rescuing several parties of Pilgrims, my stay there had become over extended. The people of the Watch wished nothing more than to see me gone, despite the help I had gven them. Although it pains me to have my own kind and our allies look at me with scorn, I understand the way they feel, and I set out along the road, seeking my next posting.

I could never have imagined a place like Zangarmarsh. Although others I've passed in my travels have lamented their posting to what they consider a dreary, wet place, I find that my experience has been just the opposite. I am alone here amongst the splendor of the land. The towering mushrooms soar like trees far into the sky, and the creatures here are both wonderous and deadly. Every land has its own beauty, and here is no exception. Some may think the place dreary and water logged, but to me it is just another amazing gift of nature to explore and wonder at. When I've stopped wondering at the marvels of the world I'll know that my fall has truly been complete. I'll know that who I was is no more.

I have been sent on several scouting missions now, encountering enemies such as the Naga who threaten Horde patrols and would unmake this beautiful place. Although I cannot directly help the people of Quel'Thalas here, I know that any aid I give the Horde will, in turn, aid my people. Perhaps through such service I can return one day to my beloved forests of Eversong, free of the guilt and burden that have been placed on me.

At least here, alone in the swamps, I can perform my duties to Quel'Thalas without the constant reminder of who I am and what befell me and my loved ones. With no one to see me, I can pretend that all is well, and that I am the same Quel'dorei that lived in those enchanted forests so long ago. It is only the momentary glimpse of my own reflection in standing water now and again that serves to remind me of the horror I have become.

At least here, there is no one to look upon me with fear or scorn. It is a small blessing in the end.

Celessiel paused in her writing, sighing as she looked over her own words. Such thoughts often plagued her, especially when she had a moment to sit and contemplate her situation. She slowly closed her diary and tucked it away in her armor, staring off into the fire again for a time. After a while she rose, heading towards her tent. She would slip into Reverie for a few hours before breaking camp and taking up her tasks once more. Her determination to prove her worth burned in her, the only bit of warmth left, the last piece of Celessiel Dawnleaf.