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Celly's new years resolution!
Cellys’ dipped her head, her lips parting into a sinister smile, "My new year’s resolution? To find the answers I’m looking for. For what? Just a little murder here and there…" The priestess lifted a porcelain cup level to her chin, stopping to savor the reaction of the other. "I do find this tea absolutely wonderful, by the way."
snailqueen
Glimpses of other realms lay prominently on the surface of this reality. They're nagging and fleeting. They are....a sigh of the indefinite. The cracks here on Draenor leave me grasping at straws and unsatisfied. The quest for knowledge has been the only distraction from my initial reasoning for setting foot through the portal.
I have heard many promising whispers of the thin veil between realms residing in the Spires of Arakk. Could it be true? Will I find the answers I seek among the Arakkoa? Will I be able to continue pursuing the task at hand? Or will I fall victim to the mind crippling plight that is fascination? And...
I am to be stranded here for Light who knows how long. I should take the opportunity to arm myself. If I should find what I am looking for, there is no doubt I will succumb completely to the possibilities. The pull away is weaker here, almost unrecognizable. This could be my last display of sanity.
We shall see.
A strength within itself is also in it's entirety a weakness. A weakness known by a common name: Pride. Strength comes hand in hand with weakness, there are some who go years without accepting this, silently encouraging it to manifest in one way or another, urging it to take control of their lives, of their very being.
Quiet, unannounced manifestation of pride is the worst, the most horrific tale to be told.
It's not long before all control is lost, slipped away into a dark recess, screaming and pleading for it's way out
---------------------------------------------------------------
A dainty young priestess sat within her study, surrounded by piles upon piles of heavy tomes, many of them covered in a thick layer of dust, the pages torn and scattered across the floor. Deranged muttering and the immense feeling of agitation soon accompanied the woman,
"It's a possibility that this is... these are the books he wrote about. But, these are the ravings of a mad man, of a...."
A thick cloud of dust dispersed into the air soon after the pages were smacked against the leather covers. The interest within the room was soon drawn to the only book left, settled among the mass of cobwebs on a pedestal known as the top shelf. A large tome bound completely in black, the title lost to age and wear.
"I've found it. I've finally found it! No need for these cautionary tales...no need for the precautions. Why? Why have precautions when you can simply..do."
Perhaps it was the lack of sleep, or perhaps it was the deterioration of a mind so set on obtaining a power greater than itself that caused the Priestess to walk over to the shelf and calmly remove the manual. A manual catered to any reckless individual that dared to open it. (A horrible guide, truly, what sort of guide does not warn of the necessary act of caution?)
Thud.
Cellys sighed as her eyes widened, her stomach filling with an enormous guilt.
I've done most of this...I've...I...why? Why did I...it's all a terrifying blur. A blur of..
The sudden realization dawned on the priestess as she looked up from her book, slumping back in the chair she'd found herself sitting in.
Because I could...
No, I can.
July 30th,
Everything has changed so much in the past few years. The things I thought I knew, people I thought I knew. I've found journals and letters dated back to...well, I'd prefer not to mention.
The hardest part about this is, if I can't know another person, how am I ever supposed to know myself? How do I know if.....if this is really who I am.
---------------------------------
Clipped to the page of the diary was a letter, an elegant script smudging the parchment.
Cellys,
While your father is away he's asked me to look after you. To make sure you're doing well. Which, I have been. But, I have to say, everything you've done is absolutely horrible. I've never seen something this terrible.
~Elrar
Written underneath it was another script,shaky and almost as elegant as the previous, the priestess speaking through the words on the page.
I'd love to tell you that's as bad as you'd ever see it, but I'd be lying...
Another piece of parchment was folded between the pages, faded and torn.
I can only hope she's not caught onto this. Onto what I need. I hope she's not found the books yet. She's extremely intelligent, that woman. If she ever found out...
I'd be dead.
If she ever finds the books, I will have these. To remember.
She'll come back, so long as I go after the ones she loves.
------------------------------
Cellys lowered her head, the quill scratching frantically across the paper.
I can't let that happen. I'm not as strong as I was before, I've outsmarted him once with.... what's a few more?
If he's still alive...
No one will die. Not in my lifetime. Especially not.....
As the words found their way to the page something in the Priestess snapped.
The journal was flung across the room, landing with a thud against a nearby wall. It had fallen leaving it's pages exposed for anyone to see.
After many hour of loud noises and crashes echoing throughout the apartment, the priestess started to leave the room, looking back to see it completely destroyed.
Good. It looks better that way.
♫ - singing voice
Hot summer days are the loveliest and worst days of our lives. Looking out at the world from the shelter of our windows, the world seems to breathe in the sun, soaking in the rays of sunshine before it’s too late. Before summer makes her decision to pass again. Azeroth knows that when she does, the trees will wilt and the planet will mourn, but who could blame it? Losing a love so grand every year would be enough to drive anyone mad.
———————————————————
Cellys hated the summer. She hated it with a passion so fierce it could quell an entire army. She hated the sunburns and the heat, and the fear of going outside. (Sunburns, eugh.) Even after all this time the priestess hadn’t found a suitable charm or spell to keep the sunlight from burning.
It was rare that she would be seen outside without any concealment, but today…today the pugs wanted to run and play. They wanted to chase each other around the city, play in the fountain and….roll around in any mud they could find.
Play time came and went for them, but they were met with a harsh reality afterwards.
Picking up the four tiny pugs Cellys put each and every one of them in the fountain, revealing a small bar of soap she had bought from a small stall not far from her home, upon stepping foot outside.
They behaved, for the most part, staying still and wagging their tails, looking up at the priestess with interest. It was only after Cellys had decided to start singing that one lowered his head onto the stone in front of her, paws covering his ears.
The others looked at her, tilting their heads from side to side, their tails wagging back and forth. Soon afterwards they joined their brother in his mockery.
"You are all just mad because I’m giving you a bath."
✮
Silvermoon has it's moments, moments of life, moments of triumph after battles won, and moments of peace, the calm before the storm. But a constant state of peace within the city is after the sun has set, after the street lamps have been lit and the guards patrol religiously. What most do not realize is what happens during this time, in the comfort of one's home.
------------------------------
Night fell and dim lights from the streets below washed over the priestess's apartment, one in which she shared Rhovin. A man who'd been there for as long as she could remember, someone who she swore to protect and love for as long as it would keep him happy. Not a sworn marriage as so many other elves opted to have, but a promise to herself, an unspoken promise to the warrior.
Cellys smiled as she noted the plate strung about the floor, a tiny kitten curled within the dip of a pauldron. The pugs sleeping in a circle around her, they had taken a liking to Cleo, refusing to sleep anywhere else besides with her. It supplied the priestess with a sort of comfort, that even animals labeled as mortal enemies could form a friendship, a bond that would last throughout their lifetime and live on through hers. It was this and the man sleeping beside her that brought her an abundant amount of joyous peace at this time of night.
Her smile was soon interrupted by a loud snore erupting from the man beside her. The smile suddenly turned into pursed lips and an amused glare. A tiny finger (in comparison to Rhovin's) stretched out to poke him in the side. "Hey. Pst, hey." It was only after a night like the one they'd just had that he'd snore this loudly, dead to the world and completely confined within his dreams. A brilliant idea sprung to her mind and she reached up to pinch his nose closed. Unfortunately this only made his snoring much louder. Not wanting to wake her love, she made up her mind to roll over and try to ignore it.
It was only after a few hours that Rhovin began to toss and turn, screaming and whimpering in his sleep. The priestess sighed, turning around to face him. She did not see the warrior's nightmares as a weakness, or a threat, nor would she ever.
Carefully she placed her hand on his forehead, her eyes closed as she muttered an incantation to bend the spell to her will. Something she had spent many decades perfecting. Something that showed her not all evil was completely evil. Something she'd use a few nights when Rhovin had these problems, his nightmares being washed away, sweet dreams replacing them.
It was with love Cellys did these things, never telling Rhovin of his troubles sleeping. If he'd ask, she would never lie, but until then, she would keep his rest peaceful and happy.
The only problem with doing this?
The snoring never ends.
Ariel!
The priestess looked over at the man, offering him a tight, thin-lipped smile as soon as the question was uttered.
"You just get right to the personal questions, eh? I'm not even aware of your name."
A defeated sigh could be heard from the woman as her eyes were lowered to the ground. "I'd give anything to have my father alive and well again."
✿
Any normal day in Quel'Thalas harbored screaming, playful children, it kept a peace of mind about the place. An uncanny calmness that washed over the land. Of course, living in peace for so many years had it's consequences, but that's a story for another day.
Standing a top a wooden balcony within her home, a small child looked down on other elves seated behind their desks, patiently waiting. A few large bookcases spanning the wall behind them. Any other child of her age would be outside, enjoying the day, screaming and playing, chasing other children in a game of tag. So, why was she here, in a classroom? Books.
Books were an adventure themselves, an adventure all confined between two leather covers. An adventure that jumps off the pages and let's you imagine it in anyway you wish. An adventure created solely for the reader. In the child's mind this created a state of wonderment.
All I have to do is go down there, grab a book and run back upstairs... He'll be here soon. I better do it now before he sees me and I get in trouble...again.
Cellys tip-toed down the stairs, doing her best to be sneaky, yet almost each step creaked with what little weight she had. Students began turning to look at her, their heads tilted and eyebrows raised with concern. After all, a child tip-toeing downstairs, looking nervous raised a bit of suspicion. Child-like pranks often involved someone getting messy, with a pie thrown at their face or mud in their shoes.
Finally, after what seemed like an hour, she had made it over to the bookcase. Cellys stretched her arm up as high as it would go (which wasn't very high at the time..) and grabbed a book off the shelf. All would have been well if she hadn't turned around to come face to face with her father, shaking his head with disappointment.
"Cellys, sweetheart, you know you're not supposed to be in my classroom while I have a class present."
A silent squeak came from the child, her eyes wide as she noticed everyone was staring at her. Seeking any sort of comfort she clutched the book to her chest. She hadn't even gotten to read the title yet.
Frightened, she looked back to her father, who's face cracked into a smile. "Here." A small, white card was procured from the man's pocket. And as she read it, her eyes lit with joy and amazement.
Cellys Whitewing is hereby granted access to the library within the city.
8856-345176
The last words spoken before she had ran off to the library: "There are many more 'adventures' there, then there are in my classroom."
