archive @diguerra-moved - Tumblr Blog

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

#I wanted to post this before moving blogs but I didn't #turns out this works better now #alleria is no longer available in this number #goodbye windchime of hell

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

#sunrunnerrs #tbh I wouldn't put it past her #she was obsessed with illidan #the actual chosen one could be standing in front of her and she just #wouldn't see #aksjdfnakjsdnfksndf

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

#she says while she prepares to send this motherfucker back to whichever hell she crawled from #Anonymous #* muse: alleria windrunner / VOID TOUCHED.#* in character: crack / RELEASE THE CRACKEN!#alleria will bring illidan back if she needs to #she might also try to kill xe'ra with her bare hands (and void powers) if she tries to be anywhere near arator #alleria is glad to know turalyon didn't answer her calls though

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.”

#* muse: thalyssra / DUSK LILY.#* in character: thalyssra / WE MUST FORGE OUR OWN DESTINY.#* verse 004: thalyssra / THE NIGHTBORNE WERE FREE TO MAKE THEIR OWN PATH.#sunrunnerrs #* threads: sunrunnerrs / 010.

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.”

#* muse: kelantir bloodblade / BLOODFORGED.#* in character: kelantir bloodblade / SHIELD THAT GUARDS THE LAND OF THE ETERNAL SUN.#* verse 003: kelantir bloodblade / TRUE MASTERS OF THE LIGHT.#sunrunnerrs #* threads: sunrunnerrs / 011.

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.”

#he certainly will #he'll be very impressed #and he'll find that very clever of her #he'll still be initially upset though askdfjnaksjdnfksa #* muse: thalyssra / DUSK LILY.#* in character: thalyssra / WE MUST FORGE OUR OWN DESTINY.#* verse 004: thalyssra / THE NIGHTBORNE WERE FREE TO MAKE THEIR OWN PATH.#sunrunnerrs #* threads: sunrunnerrs / 010.

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.”

#* muse: kelantir bloodblade / BLOODFORGED.#* in character: kelantir bloodblade / SHIELD THAT GUARDS THE LAND OF THE ETERNAL SUN.#* verse 003: kelantir bloodblade / TRUE MASTERS OF THE LIGHT.#* threads: sunrunnerrs / 011.#sunrunnerrs

ladywindrunner

@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

“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.”

#this is so much shorter rip #but hi have some soft #* muse: tyrande whisperwind / ELUNE’S CHOSEN.#* in character: tyrande whisperwind / AS THE GODDESS WILED SO DID THE PRIESTESS ACT.#* verse 004: tyrande whisperwind / SHE NEVER HAD THE LUXURY OF SLEEPING THROUGH TIMES OF GREAT PERIL.#ladywindrunner #* threads: ladywindrunner / 007.

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.”

#talk theory to her she loves it #thalyssra is a magic nerd always #and she loves nerd friends always #* muse: thalyssra / DUSK LILY.#* in character: thalyssra / WE MUST FORGE OUR OWN DESTINY.#* verse 004: thalyssra / THE NIGHTBORNE WERE FREE TO MAKE THEIR OWN PATH.#sunrunnerrs #* threads: sunrunnerrs / 010.

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.”

#* muse: kelantir bloodblade / BLOODFORGED.#* in character: kelantir bloodblade / SHIELD THAT GUARDS THE LAND OF THE ETERNAL SUN.#* verse 003: kelantir bloodblade / TRUE MASTERS OF THE LIGHT.#sunrunnerrs #* threads: sunrunnerrs / 011.

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.”

#* muse: thalyssra / DUSK LILY.#* in character: thalyssra / WE MUST FORGE OUR OWN DESTINY.#* verse 004: thalyssra / THE NIGHTBORNE WERE FREE TO MAKE THEIR OWN PATH.#sunrunnerrs #* threads: sunrunnerrs / 010.

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

#sunrunnerrs #now instead of tourist arthas I'm thinking arthas with a christmas hat

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.

#I had no idea so I just made up the plan as I went rip #* muse: kelantir bloodblade / BLOODFORGED.#* in character: kelantir bloodblade / SHIELD THAT GUARDS THE LAND OF THE ETERNAL SUN.#* verse 003: kelantir bloodblade / TRUE MASTERS OF THE LIGHT.#sunrunnerrs #* threads: sunrunnerrs / 011.

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.”

#* muse: thalyssra / DUSK LILY.#* in character: thalyssra / WE MUST FORGE OUR OWN DESTINY.#* verse 004: thalyssra / THE NIGHTBORNE WERE FREE TO MAKE THEIR OWN PATH.

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

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.

#* muse: alleria windrunner / VOID TOUCHED.#* in character: alleria windrunner / A SUN NO LONGER.#* dynamics: alleria windrunner & arator windrunner / HE IS HER ANCHOR; THE ONE THING THAT KEEPS HER SANE.