It was like swimming up
from the bottom of a lake. Each movement towards the light needed a
little push, a little help from the body to surge ever upwards. Waking
was like breaking through the surface of the water to take that
desperately needed first breath of air.
The room slowly swam into focus and Celessiel gave a soft sigh as her blue glowing eyes opened. For a long while, she stared at the ceiling of the room, not comprehending where she was or what had happened. Slowly her memory returned; the fight in the clearing, the failed plague bomb, and the forsaken that had tried to kill her. She remembered feverish dreams and aching pain from many wounds.
How did I come to be here? How am I alive?
She tried to sit up and gasped as pain shot through her body, centered around her hip. Looking down, she saw that she lay on a cot, covered in a warm fur blanket. Everything felt soft and warm, even the eternal coldness of her body felt like it was being kept at bay.
I'm safe.
She didn't know how she knew, she just did. Slowly she began to probe with her hands beneath the blanket, seeking out the source of her discomfort. To her great surprise she realized she was wearing nothing, but that thought faded as her hands encountered the freshly stitched wound on her hip. It stung to touch it, but there were clearly bandages in place and the wound had been tended to. Someone had taken the trouble to save her life. But who?
With a sudden burst of panic she realized that if her armor was gone, so were her weapons. Frantically she forced herself to sit up, holding the blanket in place to preserve her modesty. Almost immediately she saw her things stacked in a neat pile in the corner of the room, her runeblade and axe piled atop them. A further scan of the room with her icy cold orbs showed it to be a simple sleeping chamber, and the door leading from it seemed to connect to a workshop of sorts. Although much of the shop was shrouded in shadows, she could make out shelves of components and parts along the far wall, just visible to her sight. Some of the items were familiar; they were parts of the equipment used to make the plague bombs she had deployed in ashenvale.
Sydeirs!
Celessiel sighed and leaned back down into the soffness of the cot. Sydeirs said he'd had experiences with death knights before. He would know what a runeblade was, and that he shouldn't handle it too closely. He would have been extremely cautious and safe about handling both the equipment and her person, of that Celessiel was certain. There was no immediate need to worry.
But why did he help her?
The thought stayed with her as she rested on the cot some more. He had been pretty clear in their previous meeting that he'd do nothing to risk his own life, yet he'd clearly followed her into Ashenvale in secrecy, watching her mission as it unfolded. Why? What purpose did that serve, and why would he save someone that he barely knew and didn't care about?
There is more to Sydeirs than I originally thought. There was no pay in this for him. No glory or chance to advance himself. There was only the aid he gave me, and whatever gratitude I give him in return. Why did you do it Sydeirs?
She sighed again, unable to answer the question. The mute rogue was a mystery to her, and it would take her a long while to puzzle it out. One thing though seemed to be clear, he might be a friend to her, or at least he didn't despise her. It was a start of something she was sure.
Celessiel smiled and closed her eyes, drifting off into natural sleep. She felt entirely safe there, in that tiny bedroom next to Sydeirs workshop. It was an unusual feeling.
*********
Several hours later Celessiel awoke to find that she was hungry, and that the grogginess of her injuries had passed while she rested. A healing potion would aid the bandaging that Sydeirs had already done, and she'd rested too long. Her people and Quel'Thalas still needed more of her service.
Quietly she slipped from beneath the covers, dressing slowly to avoid pulling at the healing wounds. As she strapped on her weapons, she turned and studied the small bedchamber again. She still hadn't come to an understanding of Sydeirs, and it would worry at her for some time.
Before she left, she hesitated near the doorway. She reached up and removed a small necklace from where it lay around her neck, and placed it on a nearby writing table. Taking up a piece of parchment and a quill, she left a brief message.
Sydeirs,
Ever have I used the memories of my past to give me hope for the future. This necklace was once worn by a young Quel'dorei girl who loved all the world, and for whom there was no darkness. I wore it to remember myself, and to hope that the future creates such a world again.
Take it with my thanks. I do not need it any longer because now I know that I live in a world where a stranger would go out of his way to save the life of someone who he owed nothing to. I have seen my hope come true in your actions.
I will never forget this.
With Affection,
Celessiel Dawnleaf
When Sydeirs returned, he'd find the cot empty, and the letter left for him next to the necklace.
The room slowly swam into focus and Celessiel gave a soft sigh as her blue glowing eyes opened. For a long while, she stared at the ceiling of the room, not comprehending where she was or what had happened. Slowly her memory returned; the fight in the clearing, the failed plague bomb, and the forsaken that had tried to kill her. She remembered feverish dreams and aching pain from many wounds.
How did I come to be here? How am I alive?
She tried to sit up and gasped as pain shot through her body, centered around her hip. Looking down, she saw that she lay on a cot, covered in a warm fur blanket. Everything felt soft and warm, even the eternal coldness of her body felt like it was being kept at bay.
I'm safe.
She didn't know how she knew, she just did. Slowly she began to probe with her hands beneath the blanket, seeking out the source of her discomfort. To her great surprise she realized she was wearing nothing, but that thought faded as her hands encountered the freshly stitched wound on her hip. It stung to touch it, but there were clearly bandages in place and the wound had been tended to. Someone had taken the trouble to save her life. But who?
With a sudden burst of panic she realized that if her armor was gone, so were her weapons. Frantically she forced herself to sit up, holding the blanket in place to preserve her modesty. Almost immediately she saw her things stacked in a neat pile in the corner of the room, her runeblade and axe piled atop them. A further scan of the room with her icy cold orbs showed it to be a simple sleeping chamber, and the door leading from it seemed to connect to a workshop of sorts. Although much of the shop was shrouded in shadows, she could make out shelves of components and parts along the far wall, just visible to her sight. Some of the items were familiar; they were parts of the equipment used to make the plague bombs she had deployed in ashenvale.
Sydeirs!
Celessiel sighed and leaned back down into the soffness of the cot. Sydeirs said he'd had experiences with death knights before. He would know what a runeblade was, and that he shouldn't handle it too closely. He would have been extremely cautious and safe about handling both the equipment and her person, of that Celessiel was certain. There was no immediate need to worry.
But why did he help her?
The thought stayed with her as she rested on the cot some more. He had been pretty clear in their previous meeting that he'd do nothing to risk his own life, yet he'd clearly followed her into Ashenvale in secrecy, watching her mission as it unfolded. Why? What purpose did that serve, and why would he save someone that he barely knew and didn't care about?
There is more to Sydeirs than I originally thought. There was no pay in this for him. No glory or chance to advance himself. There was only the aid he gave me, and whatever gratitude I give him in return. Why did you do it Sydeirs?
She sighed again, unable to answer the question. The mute rogue was a mystery to her, and it would take her a long while to puzzle it out. One thing though seemed to be clear, he might be a friend to her, or at least he didn't despise her. It was a start of something she was sure.
Celessiel smiled and closed her eyes, drifting off into natural sleep. She felt entirely safe there, in that tiny bedroom next to Sydeirs workshop. It was an unusual feeling.
*********
Several hours later Celessiel awoke to find that she was hungry, and that the grogginess of her injuries had passed while she rested. A healing potion would aid the bandaging that Sydeirs had already done, and she'd rested too long. Her people and Quel'Thalas still needed more of her service.
Quietly she slipped from beneath the covers, dressing slowly to avoid pulling at the healing wounds. As she strapped on her weapons, she turned and studied the small bedchamber again. She still hadn't come to an understanding of Sydeirs, and it would worry at her for some time.
Before she left, she hesitated near the doorway. She reached up and removed a small necklace from where it lay around her neck, and placed it on a nearby writing table. Taking up a piece of parchment and a quill, she left a brief message.
Sydeirs,
Ever have I used the memories of my past to give me hope for the future. This necklace was once worn by a young Quel'dorei girl who loved all the world, and for whom there was no darkness. I wore it to remember myself, and to hope that the future creates such a world again.
Take it with my thanks. I do not need it any longer because now I know that I live in a world where a stranger would go out of his way to save the life of someone who he owed nothing to. I have seen my hope come true in your actions.
I will never forget this.
With Affection,
Celessiel Dawnleaf
When Sydeirs returned, he'd find the cot empty, and the letter left for him next to the necklace.
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