[[ Forgive me for the giant wall of text. I couldn't think of a picture to put in here, and I just had to get this writing out of my system. For lore, I used this topic, as well as WoWWiki. Enjoy. I thought that a roleplay post would be more fascinating than your normal "oh, this is what I did/didn't do" post, so... here it is! After the cut that is.
Yup. After a bit of researching, Phae's post in Blog Azeroth taught me how to do expandable posts! No more scrolling down forever to find a post of mine... ]]
For once, Meliensa was not at all anxious to get out of the house. The expedition for Northrend had started, and there seemed to always be a boat that was heading for the cold North. The bell from the docks could be heard all over the city at all hours of the day and night. She, however, was content to sit in their little town home, taking care of the house, and working on teaching herself to work with the new cloth that Lossemenel sent home.
She was not the only one of the household that was content to stay closer to home. Cirwen had decided to spend her time picking flowers...
"I went to the auction house, today," Cirwen was saying. She sat by the fire, Void curled up at her feet, resting contently. "It would seem that the prices of flowers have shot up, through the roof, and I intend to capitalize upon that fact." The hunter was polishing her bow, lovingly working in the chemicals and occasionally stopping to test the weapon.
"What about Northrend?" Lossemenel inquired. It seemed to her that she was the only one curious about the cold lands, and of going to lend her aid to the Expedition.
"Whether I go now or later should matter not." Her sister shrugged. "Right now, the market can do with flowers, and I plan on making the best of it. There will always be beasts to slay and people to aid-" At the latter, Cirwen snorted. She aided people because they paid her handsomely for her services, and it was only when she felt like it. It was in that way that she differed from her sisters: the other two lent their aid because of their sympathy. She couldn't have cared less. “Besides, I know of a buyer that would be more than willing to take them off of my hands directly: a fallen paladin…” She was referring to one of the Death Knights that had recently joined their “side” of the everlasting conflict.
She shook her head at the memory. Last she heard, Cirwen was off in the Swamp of Sorrows, where Blindweed and Fadeleaf tended to grow, and Lossemenel was off in Howling Fjord, fighting tooth and claw for the conquest of the land, and the defense of Valgarde from the -- she stopped, frowning, trying to remember the word. The possible forerunners of humans... the... Vrykul. Yes, that was it!
There was a knock on the door, and she turned away from the stove where she had been experimenting with the meat that Losse had brought back -- mammoth, she was told. "Be right there!" She wiped her hands on the towel that hung from the stove and patted down her apron, making sure that one of the spices she was using had decided to cling to her. Tucking a few stray stands of her golden-brown hair behind her ear, she opened the door. A draenei took there, a large bundle in her arms. "Kanta! Come in, come in!" She had not been expecting her friend, but was glad for the company none-the-less. "When did you get back?"
Nirkanta stepped in, moving as gracefully as ever, a grace that Mel had always envied. She had met the shaman not too long ago, and they quickly became fast friends, despite their obvious differences. They both served the Light, however, and it was a strong factor that brought them together. "Not too long ago. The boat just got in, and I thought that I would visit and see if you would like come company for a few days: I need a break from the frigid North, and some company... as well as a place to stay."
Mel smiled, taking the bundle from her and placing it on the couch before giving her a welcome hug. "It would be a pleasure. I'll prepare Losse's room for you shortly then."
"Speaking of your sister, some of this is from her." The shaman motioned toward the bundle. "She sends her greetings, and her regrets for not being able to come home herself; the Vrykul are getting completely out of hand, and she just can't seem to draw herself away." She moved to sit down next to the bundle, her long fingers working to untie the large knot at the top.
She sighed. She missed her sister's wise ways, and wished that the druid would return home more, but she understood the need for Losse to stay. "Thank you. Is there anything I could repair for you while you are here? I have not the knowledge of mail that Losse has, but I can do my best to patch them up, and perhaps imbue them to aid you."
"That would be lovely."
"I will be right back then; you know where Losse's room is, feel free to set your belongings in there." With that she went to retrieve her sewing kit from her room.
It was evening. They had eaten -- apparently, her Mammoth Meal (she didn't know what else to call it, so Mammoth Meal it was) had just the right flavor, for Kanta had really taken to the dish – and were settling down for an evening of talk: the usual female activity.
"Why don't you come join us out in Northrend?" The draenei asked. She had switched to a simple cloth robe that was more appropriate for lounging around.
Mel looked at her, then shrugged. "Someone has to stay at home and take care of the place." She was working on one of the outfits that had been brought to her in dire need of repair. There were large patches of cloth everywhere, of variant shades, for she had held them all up next to the leggings to find the perfect match. Now she was working on mending the cuts and tears that tended to accumulate during one's travels.
"It has been fine the many times before when all three of you were busy with duties." Kanta pointed out.
Again, she shrugged. Instead of really pondering the question, she chose to study Kanta's half hidden face. For as long as she had known the shaman -- which, admittedly, was only a few months -- Kanta had always hidden half of her face, either it was manipulating the shadows or to use her hair as a curtain. Mel had never quite understood why, but she knew that, despite the odd behavior, Kanta was a fine, able bodied shaman, able to give any other fighter a run for their money.
"You're scared." It was with clarity that the words were spoken. Mel’s gaze intensified on her. "You! Scared! I find it almost amusing... You, the ever curious one, would rather be at home than out exploring! Come on, Mel. The temperatures would suit you out there -- Freezing cold, something you are used to after years of manipulating the elements." Kanta looked at her friend, her head tilting slightly as she listened to the Call of the Elements, the voices that never truly leave her. "You're conflicted inside... Are you afraid of what you will discover there? Or does the fear and conflict come from within you?" She queried.
"I hate it when you do this." Mel scowled. In the short months of their acquaintance, Kanta had always shown an understanding of emotions that she didn't even understand, and they were her emotions.
The shaman shrugged. "It comes with the path that I have chosen, my friend. We shamans sometimes choose our path to receive peace. The conflict is still within us, however, which is why it is easier for us to sense unrest in those we associate with. Stop avoiding the question."
She put down the leggings, her amber eyes drifting toward the fire that roared in the fireplace. "I have been fighting and training for many years now. You're young. I don't expect you to understand... but it wears on me. It does me good to see smiles when I return to one of those who have sought my aid, but, eventually, one just needs a break. I have seen many friends fall in battles that were to never get up again, but I have also seen many miracles in my time." Mel mused. It was easy talking to Kanta, far easier that she would have thought. But then, once her trail of thought began, she had to get it all out.
"I just needed to be away from the Field. I need to remember just why I fight, and not let the power get too much to my head. There were times when I felt that the Elements controlled me, rather than me controlling them... and that I fear. You converse with the Elements, and the two of you are one and they lend you aid, but, we, as mages, use our base knowledge of the Arcane and, with that, concentrate the nature of, for me, anyway, frost, in the area around us and call it into being." She had to laugh. "That was a really long sentence. But I hope you get my point. I fear that I've become addicted to the Arcane powers, and, therefore, thought that I should withdraw myself for the time being. It hasn't been easy: for years I only had to say those words of power to light my fireplace, and now, to struggle with Flint and Tinder... it is a setback. In a way, though, I know that I have to do it, leaving the ability that has always run though my veins behind for a while. I have not been idle, though: when I’m not here, I am at the Wizard's Sanctum. One of my former teachers, Jeannea Cannon, has been helping me find control, and to find myself again.”
There. Her secret. No one else knew of her fear, nor of her real reasoning, not even her sisters. She didn’t know why she told Kanta, even, except that her friend had pressed, and that she knew the shaman would keep it secret, if not help her settle the inner conflict.
“I see…” Kanta nodded slowly. She knew little of mage-craft, but what Mel had just told her made quite a bit of sense, and helped her understand just how they worked. She didn’t know what to say, though, having never felt the conflict for herself for reasons that had been pointed out.
“Yes… don’t tell Losse. She’d would come straight home, and you and I know that she is better needed out there than to be mothering over me. Or anyone, for that matter.”
The two of them sat in silence, both in their thoughts, watching the fire roar and slowly fade, leaving them in semi-darkness.