#phaumia

[samiesan]

11.- “don’t cry” for Vivaaldi. 50.- “Everything is fine” for Reithie.

Vivaaldi had found the krokul deep in the Crystal Hall, hiding behind rubbish and spare parts where they said she would be. 

Phaumia had been hit the hardest by everything that had happened. She had lost her two best friends, Elaati and Baatok, to the hands of Ber’mora and hand their bodies twisted and deformed into one of those... things, to serve the witch. Then, to have to leave Argus, a place she had a deep connection with to come to a place like Azeroth, was like a kick to the gut. Phaumia had no connection to this planet, no comfort, she hated Azeroth and refused to commune with the elements because “They stupid and dumb and too many talk to them, they won’t listen to me and me alone.”

She was looking for friends, for familiar voices...

Kneeling down, Vivaaldi placed a hand on Phaumia’s back, the Archon wasn’t the most... comforting type of person, but she decided to give it the old collage try. The two grew up in the same municipality on the outskirts of Mac’Aree and while Vivaaldi was more grossed in her books, Phaumia was considered the towns beauty. Though, little knew the woman outside of her aesthetic appeal, how she studied geology and the stars. The two never interacted, were never friends, but never enemies either, just two ships going about their days. But while Vivaaldi took to the stars, Phaumia stayed behind and became a krokul.

But while some felt loss at the change, Phaumia rejoiced. 

“I-ung, I don’t like it here! I want them back! I want Elaati and grumpy Baatok, I want to show them my rocks and... and...” the geomancer broke down again as Vivaaldi gently rubbed her back. Tears streaming down her face, snot from her nose, as the Archon offered her a handkerchief.

“I know, I know...” Viv whispered, in her most comforting voice. “...It’ll be- we’ll make it work. it’ll be okay. Don’t cry.”

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The air still hung with smoke, the smell of burning wood. 

Reithie coughed as she looked at the sky, the dark plume of smoke still came off of the burning remains of Teldrassil, despite the shamans attempts to ask the element of Wind to divert it. There was just too much.

The Kaldorei and Worgen refugees still kept coming, those that couldn’t get on the ships to Stormwind came to Azuremyst Isles. She had watched as her husband Jovakor, the Consul Klement and the rest of the healers worked endlessly to help those that were burnt, hurt or worse. Auchenai worked along side those of the Sisterhood of Elune, tending to those that fell under the category of worse. 

It had been a week now and Teldrassil still burned. 

Reithie didn’t know how long she had been staring off for, but it was long enough for Jovakor to come over and jostle her slightly back into reality.

“Hey, everything is going to be fine, you hear me?”

Turning her attention to the face before her, Reithie smiled. “Yeah, I think the worst is behind us...”

They say don’t count your chickens before they hatch, because at that very moment look outs on Bloodmyst spotted something troubling. And word started to spread that Horde ships were making their way to the islands as they speak.

@rangari @wineandsalt