@daily-writing-challenge August 2025 Day 2 "Wither"
It was just after Brewfest, when things started to change between them. Jhaelune could remember a few stray banners still hung outside businesses in the city. That night she finished her shift as part time help at her favorite bar in Silvermoon. The job kept her busy while she was on medical leave from the Order. It became common for the Undead Knight to linger for one last drink with Jhaelune when she finished her duties.
"That last song, was about you Scarlet," Nesfarion announced. He wore casual clothes under the tabard of the mercenary company he worked with. The deep blues and black matching his long dark hair and the icy blue glow of his eyes. It was difficult to see the sheen of ice that often coated his skin as he finished stowing away his violin in the lowered lights of the bar.
"It was more cheerful than the ones you usually play," Jhaelune replied. She finished wiping down the tables, moving stiffly. The broken bones she had sustained in Northrend were slowly healing but the other scars of witnessing the battle at the Wrathgate were still fresh. She didn't question the nickname anymore, though the answer always changed.
"Perhaps that is because of what you've woken in me these many late nights here. Because even in the sad refrains you are luminous and enraptured. Perhaps you shall further inspire me to sing again," the man mused and they once again parted ways for the night.
By the time Love is in the Air fluttered through Silvermoon, the pair had not exchanged any promises or professed anything. Yet Jhaelune had carefully strung together a bracelet of the most masculine charms she could find at the goblin vendors and presented it to the Ebon Knight. Nesfarion was not surprised by the gesture and had come prepared, presenting her with a bouquet of black roses.
Jhaelune plucked another chocolate from the garish box and bit it in half, chewing slowly. "This one is orange- ooh it's really good! It's not as sweet as the last one."
She offered the other half and Nesfarion took it gingerly from her hand in his shredded, boney claws. Neither of them could remember when he stopped wearing his gloves when they were alone. Both of them laughed as he tried the candies with her, only really able to taste the ones that were unbearably sweet to Jhalune. It made sharing easy.
It was Brewfest again and they traveled all the way to Orgrimmar to enjoy the festival. Jhaelune was moving easily, enjoying her new position as an assistant instructor helping to train hopeful Blood Knight initiates in swordplay but grateful to take a break and spend time with the bard. As the sounds of merriment died down the pair sat at a dwindling firepit and Nesfarion sang a powerful ballad about lovers doomed to die if they stayed together. It wasn't the first time he had sang for her but it was the first time Jhaelune felt this way about a song.
"It must be all that... Troll Venom.. what is it? You might think my kind unable to become intoxicated but there are some things that still do the trick," Nesfarion declared, words not quite slurring but more loose than usual. He put down his instrument and sat next to Jhaelune, taking one of her hands in both of his. He kissed the back of it and up the length of her arm until he reached her lips. She resisted begging him to promise they would not end the same way as the song.
It was during the next Noblegarden, on a trip to Dalaran for a Northrend memorial gala, that Nesfarion commented how beautiful Jhaelune would look in a wedding gown they saw in a shop window.
"I only noticed because your warm ginger hair against this pale pink," he ran a finger along the delicate lace neckline of her gown, low enough to make her shiver and flush on the busy city street.
"I think it would be stunning in the white, with your perfect skin." He leaned down and kissed her exposed shoulder but said nothing more as they continued their walk.
That night she mustered the courage to ask.
"You didn't say a white gown," Jhaelune said quietly, peeking through her pale lashes across the table. The set of his strong jaw, the way his hair draped over one shoulder and the way he looked at her, such a soft adoration from such a hard man- she almost lost her nerve.
"You said a wedding dress."
"I suppose I did," Nesfarion agreed and he looked down to his place setting for only a single breath before his piercing gaze locked to her face.
"Was that inappropriate? I shouldn't talk of things like that, it reminds me of how finite this could be." He gave a slight shake of his head but didn't look away, staring expectantly, almost she thought, with a hint of hope. Something in the way his heavy brows seemed to lift.
"What do you mean? Sin'dorei are incredibly long-lived and you have already died. We have all the time in the world."
Jhaelune's confidence grew as she spoke, giving in to being free with her feelings for him, her hopes. They agreed they could both be together for a very long time and that they would prefer to adopt slightly older children who might be more troubled and difficult for less patient parents to guide.
The Midsummer Fire Festival was in full swing when Nesfarion took both of Jhaelune's hands in his. They were in Orgrimmar near the gates, he was about to board a ship to the Twilight Highlands with the rest of his mercenary company.
"I know this is going to be hard for you to hear and I know you are going to hate me for it. But I hope someday you will understand it is only because of how I love you that I can do this."
Jhaelune shook her head in confusion, her eyes flickering down to the simple ring on her left hand. They had picked it out together, something modest but special.
"What are you talking about? You're not going that far away. I can pull some strings and go with a unit to the Highlands after you. I'll catch up," she told him with a bright smile.
"You won't catch up Jhaelune. I do not want that for you. I cannot keep holding you back from the life you deserve." He elaborated about not being able to have children of their own and that even the process to create them remained out of reach.
"Without that vital intimacy, a love will surely wither. Someday you would come to resent me, for staying until it is too late to have more. It could be tomorrow or it could be a hundred years from now but I could not bear it. Better that it is now."
It was just after Brewfest when Jhaelune stumbled out of the back door of their favorite bar and vomited on old decorations yet to be tossed out. She wiped her face with the back of her hand and as she stared at the saliva sticking to the simple ring she slumped against the nearest wall, sobbing.
Winter Veil came and Jhaelune handed over a wrapped package. It wasn't physically heavy, the courier took it from her hands without any exertion. But the small ring box tucked among the other items was so heavy it still held her shoulders down. Letting go of it wasn't a relief, it was sobbing until she passed out slumped against her front door once inside.
The goblin vendors descended again on Silvermoon, the city awash in perfumes. Jhaelune watched couples make their purchases, giggling and touching each other. She watched nervous young men being finessed by the goblins into buying something extravagant. She watched a blushing girl surrounded by friends showing her trinkets and offering advice. Jhaelune felt nauseous. She curled her fingers to stab the nails into her palm, willing the feeling to go away, willing the tears not to start again.
Jhaelune did not know what season it was, or what holiday was near. She only knew it didn't matter. All of them felt empty.
Musical Accompaniment
