#elfebruary 2018

[thewellofeternity]

Elfebruary Day Three: Being Cold (colored)

Cloooothes! Left one is significantly more Nightborne palette inspired. She kind of looks like an ice skater in the second one, but this character is very into the star aesthetic so I imagine she has a lot of sparkles in her wardrobe. 

[thewellofeternity]

Elfebruary Day Three: Being Cold (sketch)

I’m so behind. I’ll never finish them all, but I’m going to be doing a few sketches to catch up as best I can. There are colored versions of this one, but I thought she looked the most cold in the sketch. 

I imagine this is her first time seeing the stars again in ten thousand years... 

[currentsofdreams]

8. Lost Somewhere

The bitter cold would have been easier to bear if Kirielle had known where, exactly, she was. No wonder the messenger hadn’t been able to make it through; the blowing snow had piled up through the day, changing the entire landscape as the warrior had traveled further northeast. Now, in the clear, frigid night, she had scraped together a tiny, sputtering fire of thawing sticks in a shallow cave.

Snow crunched outside, ominously loud in the still night. Kiri readied her shield, regretting that she had chosen this cave for its proximity rather than its size. Keeping her head ducked clear of the roof, she waited.

The first nerubian that rushed her small fire in a flail of limbs was met with a shield bash that knocked it back into its fellows. Swallowing hard, Kiri was suddenly glad that she had a wall at her back, and a narrow choke point to hold. At least it was warmer, now that she was up and fighting.

Still they came. The fire sputtered smaller, untended. Just as Kiri was beginning to worry that she would be fighting these things in the dark, footsteps crunched on the snow outside. The nerubian closest to the exit turned, concerned, giving Kiri a chance to finish off the two that had crowded in. She slipped out, stabbing at the one that now had its back to her. In the moonlight, a death knight swung a huge blade, reaping the skittering nerubians in several easy strokes. Kiri stayed wary, her shield up in case this death knight was hostile.

With the nerubians dead, the death knight stepped forward. “Oh. It’s you.”

Kirielle lowered her shield slightly. “Aeternita, wasn’t it?” she asked.

“Young Ravensmoon. I see you did not take my advice.”

“I can hardly up and leave the war,” Kiri spat. “I’m not trying to prove a point. I’m just trying to help.”

The death knight sized her up again, this time a little less dismissive. She snorted, “Hrmph. Then I suppose you’ll be pleased to know that you are exactly halfway between two settlements, each in need of help.”

Kiri bent her head in acknowledgement. The death knight frowned at her silence. “You’re not lost, are you?”

“No, I’m some kind of daredevil trying to see just how cold I can get before I freeze,” Kiri snapped. Then she ducked her head further, sighing. “It was snowing, earlier,” she offered by way of explanation.

Aeternita’s eyes darkened, lost for a moment in some distant memory. “Very well, then. This way, Ravensmoon. Try not to lose anything too important before we get there.” And she strode off, not once glancing back to see the warrior scrambling to grab her pack and follow.

[pru-thea-allegra]

Well. It’s #Elfebruary2018 and one of the prompts was “Lullaby “ So my musical ass wrote a lullaby. Would be written and sung by Pru’s mom, Saraceli, and when Pru found Azroen, she would sing it to him. So it’s a family thing. Sometimes Wynn asks her to sing it. He hums it to himself too, but it’s never quite the same

[currentsofdreams]

6. A Secret

“Commander!”

They weren’t on Draenor anymore, but old habits die hard. Kirielle strode across Krasus’ Landing, and gripped Khadgar’s hand in a firm handshake. “Archmage, it’s good to see you.”

“It’s even better to see you. There were rumors that you had finally met your match,” Khadgar said.

Kirielle shook her head, unable to say anything to that. For all of Odyn’s assurances, she wasn’t sure she wasn’t dead after all. Khadgar breezed past the moment, waving at someone else behind her. “Kirielle,” he said, low, urgent, “about the demon hunters. It would be helpful if you could show your support. We need all the allies we can get in this war.”

Kirielle pursed her lips. “Archmage, I don’t think I can—”

“People look to you,” he said, intensely serious. “Please, Commander.”

“Archmage Khadgar,” a new voice said, smooth and sure. “What a pleasant surprise.”

Kirielle turned, surveying the demon hunter: dark hair, curled horns, half-smirk. Kiri let out a deep breath and swallowed heavily.

“Niniyv,” Khadgar said, greetings over, “have you met Commander Kirielle Ravensmoon?”

The demon hunter turned her blindfolded eyes to the warrior. Kiri shook her head, just slightly, hoping that the surrounding crowd of travelers was not paying attention. The demon hunter’s smirk widened just a bit. “I have heard good things. My old friend, Aeternita, speaks highly of Kirielle. Though it is a bit jarring to see her so…damaged.”

Kirielle shook herself from her paralysis, unsure if Niniyv was referencing Kirielle’s handicap, or her mentor’s fate. “Even as a death knight, Aeternita at least, seems to have maintained her sense of morality.” It was a barb, subtle.

Khadgar didn’t notice. “Kirielle, Niniyv is the head of the Illidari. She will be leading our efforts in Azsuna, coordinating her people and ours. I should probably leave the two of you to it.” He clapped his hands as if that settled it, and whisked himself away to handle something else.

The two women stood on the platform, a ring of silence around them despite the noise of mounts taking off and landing. Niniyv was still watching Kiri with that slight smirk. There was something incredulous to it, now that Khadgar was no longer watching. Kirielle strode to the edge of the platform, whistling for the red drake who served as her mount. Behind her, Niniyv also took flight, her own wings carrying her out over the sea.

Once they were free of most of the Dalaran traffic, Niniyv turned to Kirielle. “You are not what I expected.” She shook her head. “Forgive me, but I can think of nothing to say that isn’t completely trite.”

Kirielle pursed her lips in anger, and failed to stop herself from biting back, “You lied to me, you left me, you—” she gestured to Niniyv’s horns and wings— “…and the only thing you wish to apologize for is not knowing what to say?”

Niniyv huffed. “You could have told Khadgar—”

Kirielle cut her off. “For the sake of this world, I will work with you. I will even let people know that I am working with you, and that I don’t expect a glaive in my back for it. But I will not deal with the fallout of people knowing that you are my mother.”

Niniyv curled her lips. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Kirielle looked at her. “Yeah. Your story is like a morality tale for grown-ups. Don’t dabble in dark magic—you lose everything and go to prison for all eternity.”

“Or until someone decides our power is something worth having. Kirielle, I did this for you. To keep you safe. You were so young, you can’t possibly remember—”

“For me? I would much rather have had a mother who stuck around, especially since Father died to protect us! To get us out, to keep us safe. And look at you!” Kirielle forced herself to relax her grip on her drake’s back, offering a gentle pat in apology.

Niniyv frowned. “He got left behind. I don’t think he’s dead,” she said quietly. “He would hate to see me now.” Her voice was almost contemplative, as if the thought had never occurred to her before. Kirielle pulled ahead, beginning a circling descent into Azsuna, ignoring for the moment the thought that her father might still be alive somewhere in the Broken Isles—merely left behind when the world sundered.

Niniyv flapped her wings, hard, to catch up. “If that’s truly how you feel, I cannot change your mind, Kirielle. But I am going to save this world. I’ll be glad of your help. They say you have made me proud.”

Kirielle growled, “I didn’t do anything for you.”

“Then allow me to do this for you,” Niniyv said. “We push this wave of demonic reinforcements back, and then, once we have coordinated our forces, I make sure you get sent after one of the artifacts the Archmage is looking for, so you don’t have to stay in Azsuna. You will have fulfilled your promise to Khadgar, and you won’t have to deal with me for any longer than necessary. No one knows we even know each other. Everyone wins.”

Kirielle let out a small breath, and closed her eyes briefly, a moment’s regret. “Thank you, Mother.” Niniyv turned her head sharply, but Kirielle had already sent her mount into a dive, rapidly descending to the tainted river below.

[currentsofdreams]

5. First Snow

Feyarin sat awkwardly on the borrowed nightsaber, pestering Kirielle with questions. The blacksmith, to her credit, patiently answered every one, though after a week of travel, the merchants in the small caravan they were accompanying east were beginning to grumble at the incessant stream of chatter. Fey didn’t care. She’d never been off of Teldrassil, at least not to remember it, and she wasn’t about to squander the opportunity to learn about the lands around her before they arrived in Winterspring.

The girl knew Kirielle had been hesitant to bring her new ward on such a long journey—something about meeting the miners who supplied her ore; Fey hadn’t much cared why. But she was eager to prove to her guardian that she wouldn’t be a burden. And while Felwood was making her skin crawl, she had been promised that Winterspring was well worth the few days’ discomfort.

As they entered the cavern—the merchants negotiating with the furbolg who held the pass—a slight itch began to grow in Feyarin’s palms. She glanced at Kirielle and bit her lip, suddenly worried. Fey knew that Kirielle didn’t care that she had magical capabilities, knew that Kirielle had taken her in because of the way the temple had treated her with such suspicion, but it was still difficult to bring it up. Especially when she could feel it building, calling out to something ahead of them. In the end, habit won out and she stayed silent.

Light grew at the end of the tunnel. A furbolg stepped forward, halting the caravan. Fey caught something about bad weather, but she couldn’t stop. She nudged her nightsaber forward, hardly hearing Kirielle’s call as she stepped out into a swirling wall of white. The sensation startled a laugh out of her, a gust of cold bursting from her palms to swirl into the blizzard around her.

“Feyarin!” Kirielle shouted, struggling through the wind to stand next to her. The cave’s entrance was a dark smudge behind them, still in sight. Fey wanted to run into the wild, to let the storm fill her up. Kirielle’s warm hand on her shoulder stopped her. “Are you okay?” the blacksmith called over the wind.

Fey blinked and Kiri froze for a moment, staring at the girl’s icily glowing eyes. “What?” Fey asked. When the warrior didn’t respond, she said, more tentatively, “Kirielle?”

The warrior shook herself. “It’s nothing. C’mon, before you freeze.”

Fey wanted to tell her guardian that there was very little chance of her freezing, not when she wanted to fly into pieces and blow where the wind would take her, drifting into a blanket that knew the landscape as well as the back of her own hand, but she pulled her power back into her, tamped it down tight so that the merchants wouldn’t see it and make them leave. As Kirielle gently led her back into the cave, a sort of regret on her face, Fey looked back at the blowing snow. One day, she would find some way to master this magic. Maybe then, she wouldn’t feel quite so lost in the storm.

[currentsofdreams]

4. Bitter Truth

“Ravensmoon?” The elven death knight looked Kirielle over with darkened eyes. “Yes, I see it in you now.”

The young warrior frowned, arms crossed uncomfortably under the undead woman’s scrutiny. “What of it?” she asked, when the woman continued to stare at her.

“They said they were sending a hero.”

Kiri looked away, shaking her head. “I’m not—” she began to protest.

“No?” The death knight’s gaze intensified. “Your mother was a legend, before she walked off on her fool’s errand. You look like her. Oh, you have your father’s coloring, but the shape of your face, the way you stand…though she certainly preferred larger, riskier weapons than that shield you carry. Pity he was the real hero in the end. You might have had a chance, if you took after him.”

“Fool’s errand?” Kirielle asked, brow furrowing as she leaned forward. “She left because she had unfinished business—”

“Child, she’s a demon hunter. She was seduced by whispers of power. She was no hero, just a fool willing to throw away everything she ever had, and for what?” The death knight grinned at the hurt and bewilderment blossoming on the young warrior’s face. “You take care now, Ravensmoon. This land bites almost as badly as the demons. You make sure you stay out of your mother’s footsteps.”

“I—” But the death knight was gone before Kiri could even begin to formulate a response, her last childish illusions shattering in the cold air.

[currentsofdreams]

3. A Surprise Gift

Meliraea woke to the smell of smoke. Pushing away the lingering sense of unsettled dreams, the smell of bacon just beginning to burn caused her to leap from bed, cat-dashing down to the kitchen. She scrambled to a halt just inside, the pleasant cacophony of breakfast on the brink of disaster wrapping around her.

“Mel!” Feyarin called cheerfully. “Kiri left early, but I thought you might like some food?”

Mel stared at the girl for a long moment, cat eyes unblinking. She still wasn’t sure what she meant to Kirielle’s ward, nor what the young mage meant to her. Mel’s silence hadn’t stopped Fey from freezing part of the cooking flame down without a thought, rescuing the bacon, and turning back to stirring the eggs in a moment. When the girl didn’t think about magic, she was an absolute natural. Trying to finely control it was still something elusive. But that was something that would come with time, Mel knew.

Breakfast, on the other hand, was well within the girl’s grasp. Mel stood, scooping up some peppers and carving a wedge of cheese off the block before coming around to stand next to Fey. “Here,” she said, beginning to slice the peppers with a deft knife. “Try adding a little of this—”

“Oooh,” Fey hummed. They cooked together for the next few moments, Mel spicing up Fey’s plain eggs and bacon. It was surprising, this moment of calm. Maybe Mel could get used to having a family after all.