He wanted to go to Hyjal. Of course he did. “Why?” Had been the first question out of her mouth, “It’s a forest with a magic lake.” She’d pointed North, “Get yerself a mage and ya can do that here.” Fancy Pants had tried to be casual, but that damned smile had told her there was something more to it as he waved a hand, “Oh just a literary conclave. Sharing poetry, prose, songs…” With a roll of her eyes Irielle had sighed, “Fine. Whatever. When?” “Oh…” Ebernum had given a guilty shrug, looking down, “T-tonight.” When he looked up again Irielle was standing maybe a foot away, a finger pointed up at him with narrowed eyes before she huffed, turned on her heel, and ran upstairs. Not five minutes later she was dragging a very confused, barely awake Nyx out of the house, grabbing the spear she’d left by the door on her way out. “Meet you there!” She’d yelled from half-way down the street, drowning out the sounds of Nyx’s rising protests.
As they stepped through the portal to Hyjal, Irielle was instantly on edge. The forest was calm, quiet, a slight breeze rustling through the trees as she stopped dead, taking a long, slow, careful look around them. Nyx stood slightly behind her, arms crossed over his chest as he grumbled over being dragged from bed, without breakfast, and through a portal to another continent. Wordlessly, Irielle took an apple from the bag attached to her hip, shoving the small, bruised fruit into Nyx’s hands. “C’mon, need to take a look around.” Nyx followed her with a pout, “Justa forest Iri.” She hadn’t answered, instead setting off to the North of Nordrassil at a brisk pace, ears perked and alert for any new sound.
An hour before the event was scheduled to begin, Nyx and Irielle sat inside Nordrassil’s Inn. “Ya gonna eat that?” Nyx asked her, pointing to the untouched plate of food on her side of the table. She frowned down at the plate, seeming to have forgotten it was there. “Knock yourself out.” Irielle slid the plate across the table, eyes fixed on the clearing near the portals. They’d canvassed the surrounding forest, Irielle taking note of several trails away from the lake should they need to make a speedy exit. Everything seemed fine. ‘So it did last time, and we know how that turned out.’ The voice in her head was a teasing purr, taunting her as it laughed, the sound multiplying as she closed her eyes against the unnatural, magical glow of the lake. She shoved back from the table suddenly, “Watch the portal for Fancy Pants. ’m headin’ over.” Nyx shook his head at her, fingers clutching the plate of food she’d nearly knocked off the table as she shoved backward. “Yeah, yeah.” With a shrug he turned his attention back to the food.
She could see people on the far side of the lake. They were set up already, with a few small groups already settling in, greeting friends and acquaintances before choosing their spots. Turning up her good, Irielle retreated into its shadows as she stuck to the treeline, weaving in and out of the shadows as she took up a watchful position near the staging grounds. It was a varied assortment of people, members of the Horde and Alliance had both come out, some mingling together with noted awkwardness while others greeted another as old friends. Her eyes lifted to the makeshift stage, eyes narrowing at the banner. It looked familiar. Academic… Like a University. Like Stormwind University. Flowers’ university. “Damn it Fancy Pants.” She cursed under her breath, words blending together as she leased a string of increasingly colourful expletives in his direction. That’s why he’d had that damned smile. He wasn’t just interested in the poetry, he was interested in her seeing Flowers again. Taking a deep breath, Iri ground the base of her spear into the soft earth of the forest floor. She would kill him. She’d kill him herself if something in the damned area didn’t get to him first.
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