A blog dedicated to fictional short stories and role-playing across a spectrum of video-games and fantasy worlds.

Sunday, May 20, 2012

Pressing Onward

The little Sin'dorei boy laughed as he ran, outpacing the other children in the open space amongst the tents of Falcon Watch. The refugees and pilgrims that had been lost and wandering in Outlands were still coming in from time to time as their groups made it back to civilization, and his family was amongst the others in the small Sin'dorei garrison. The children raced between the tents and scattered belongings of those who had made temporary camps for a few days, running up towards the pinnacle of the place where a golden tower overlooked the pathways in the distance.

As he neared the top the boy darted along the edge of the precipice, his boots crunching on the rocks that made up the hill that the tower was anchored to. The drop to the valley below raced along on his left side as he ran, heedless of the danger and engrossed in the fun of the moment. As his foot came down again, a piece of the rock outcropping crumbled, and his balance was lost. His run quickly became a headlong tumble, and he fell off the edge with a shriek. His friends screamed as they skidded to a halt, watching in horror as his clothing flapped in the breeze of his fall, sending him plummeting towards the jagged rocks below.

In midair a flicker of dark purple energy wrapped around the boy, yanking him back up onto Falcon Watch's ledge and into the arms of Celessiel Dawnleaf. The young boy gave out a strangled cry, both from having so narrowly avoided death and at the creature that now held him in her arms. Celessiel smiled, and gently set the boy down, dusting him off and ensuring that he hadn't taken any injury during his fall.

"Get away from him RIGHT NOW!" a voice shouted. Celessiel turned around to see a furious looking Sin'dorei noblewoman in the elegant robes of a magistrix striding towards her. She frowned slightly as the Magistrix walked up, yanking the boy away from her by his hand and shoving him backwards to separate him from the death knight.

"But I was just..." Celessiel began.

"I don't care what you THINK you were doing filth! You do not TOUCH any of the people here with your unclean hands. Do you understand me?!" the Magistrix was shouting directly in Celessiel's face now, her body inches from the death knight. She seemed to care little about the cold flowing from Celessiel's body.

"I didn't mean to..." the death knight attempted again.

"BE SILENT!" the Magistrix shouted again. Around the two several other Sin'dorei had gathered, all of them shooting Celessiel rather hostile looks. "I don't know why they even allowed you to enter the bounds of Falcon Watch, but you don't belong here witch! Why don't you do us all a favor and just crawl back into your grave and leave us be?!" This last was followed by the woman spitting in Celessiel's face.

Celessiel's mouth hung open in shock. The spittle instantly froze and wisped away into flakes of ice, but the gesture itself was what wounded so deeply. She watched silently as the Magistrix strode away in a fury, dragging the young boy behind her. The child gave Celessiel an almost apologetic look as his mother took him out of her sight. The other Sin'dorei all gave Celessiel evil looks before turning back to their own business, leaving her standing there alone.

"I only wanted to help," Celessiel whispered quietly.

****************

Sometime later, Celessiel sat alone within a small tent she had purchased. She wrote in a tiny diary, her private thoughts made real as they were set on parchment.

It is difficult for me to describe exactly how each day makes me feel. It is hard to know if continuing to exist like this, in this cursed form, is worthwhile, even considering the good I can do. No matter how often my power is applied to save life, no matter how many tragedies I can avert, I will always be seen as I see my own reflection, as a thing of unnatural life.

Who is left to discuss it with, to glean comfort from? They have all passed on, although I fear some of their spirits still remain trapped as mine is trapped, only in more suffering than even I have endured. It is for them, my friends and loved ones who have no voice now, that I must continue with my work. I must find and free them, if any still linger on. I must free any others who are trapped in unnatural life, and put down the forces that brought me and others like me into existence. No matter the cost, I will try to press on. It just sometimes seems that the cost is so very high.

This encampment, and the pilgrims who pass through here, are threatened by dangerous beasts known as ravagers. Many already set out to deal with them, and few returned from such tasks. It is considered suicide to fight them by the guards here. Tomorrow at first light I will set out on this task. It is the least I can do for the pilgrims here, whether they will ever come to accept me or not. In death I serve as I did in life, for Quel'Thalas always.

****************

As light gradually filtered across the burnt red earth of Hellfire, a lone figure could be seen descending from Falcon Watch, riding on a death charger. The weapons strapped to her hip glowed with unholy light as she rode quietly away, her head bowed with thoughts of the things she had yet to accomplish with the stolen life she'd been given.

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