The story of one young quel'dorei and her family during the siege of Quel'Thalas, the destruction of Silvermoon, and the trying times that followed. It also follows the transformation from quel'dorei to sin'dorei, and the journey from adolescence to adulthood.
Talathiel is based off one (well, several, as I re-use names) of my characters in World of Warcraft.
I own nothing but the majority of the characters, the rest belongs to Blizzard Entertainment. I'm just playing with the toys for a while. I promise I'll put them back when I'm done.
I do not promise what condition they will be in.
Talathiel stood on her small balcony, hands placed lightly on the rail, smiling face turned upwards towards the sun as she rejoiced in the warmth of its rays and the golden beauty of the summer morning. Her balcony overlooked the carefully tended garden that was her mother's pride (though they had servants to do most of the labor involved in keeping it so beautiful) and there were several pots and tall vases on Talathiel's balcony as well; morning-glories running all over their bars, vines so heavy with flowers it was a wonder they were able to remain clinging to their small trellises. The Nasturtiums were so heavy with blooms that they were falling down, hanging from the balcony in great ropes, while honeysuckle, wisteria and trumpet vines climbed upwards from the ground to meet their pretty neighbors.
Yet they were all nothing in comparison to the climbing roses, which were planted in two great, beautifully decorated pots on either side of the doors that led from the balcony into Talathiel's room. The roses had been planted fifty years before, when she had turned eight and moved from the nursery into the lovely upstairs room that overlooked the garden. The climbers had been trained to grow up and around the doorway on the supports provided them, so that they framed the arched doorway completely with their vibrant blooms. Roses were the pride of Vendethiel Dawnbreeze, Talathiel's mother, who cared for her roses as tenderly and as attentively as if they were her children. It was said that she grew the loveliest roses in all of Quel'Thalas, and Talathiel believed that statement wholeheartedly. The Dawnbreeze gardens were therefore filled with roses of all types; trees, bushes, and climbers mingling with the other flowers, shrubberies and trees. The blooms filled the air with their sweet aroma, the floral perfume that remained in the air all year round a constant comfort to the quel'dorei adolescent. Quel'Thalas was the only kingdom where such a variety of blossoms could be in full bloom at once, let alone make it possible for the plants to be in bloom every day of the year. The magic that saturated the air of the elven lands had long ago changed the weather so that it was never autumn or winter; Quel'Thalas existed in a perpetual state of late spring and summer.
With a reluctant sigh, Talathiel opened her eyes and took one final look around the garden, drinking in the beauty with her cornflower blue eyes before turning and walking reluctantly into her room. Her eyes drifted longingly to the simple bow and quiver of arrows hung on a peg on the wall beside her wardrobe, but she knew there would be no time for archery practice this day (not that her parents even approved of such an activity for their precious daughter). Talathiel's desire to be a Farstrider was a source of constant consternation to her parents, who could not comprehend how their sweet, peace loving daughter could harbor such a desire. They did not understand that, young and idealistic as she was, she wanted to patrol the borders of beautiful Quel'Thalas to protect its inhabitants, even if it meant that she would need to learn to fight the fearsome Amani trolls that were a constant threat to the peace and safety of their people. Two of Talathiel's older brothers were Farstriders; Thaltas and Polion. They had been the ones to put the idea in their sister's head, no matter how unintentionally, and, as the rest of her brothers did, they tried to humor her; fashioning a fine training bow and arrows for her, teaching her the basics of archery.
Talathiel was the youngest child of an unusually large quel'dorei family. She also had the dubious pleasure of being the only daughter, born to Thalion and Vendethiel after ten sons and nearly a hundred years of marriage. There were whispered rumors in Quel'Thalas among some of the lesser households that the noble families had long ago been charged to breed and raise daughters to match the sons of the Sunstrider line, and, while few took the words seriously, it was like all rumors in that it contained a kernel of truth. The Sunstrider heirs were encouraged to select brides from the noble houses, the custom of arrange marriage giving the proper "encouragement" when necessary. Thalion was one of those who believed the rumor, and he took it quite seriously; insisting that he and Vendethiel continue to try for a girl child, finally breathing a sigh of relief when Talathiel was born. He knew it was unlikely that she would ever be called upon to serve as a Sunstrider bride, for Vendethiel had been of the Brightstar house before marrying him, and a Sunstrider lord had taken a Brightstar woman as wife only three generations previous.
Still, he was of the opinion that it was best to be on the safe side. Just in case.
Talathiel was quite ignorant of all this, and even had she known of the reasoning behind her conception and birth, it was likely she wouldn't have cared. Especially not on such a beautiful day; a golden, perfect day that seemed so full of promise and possibility. She left her room on the third floor of her family's nearly palatial residence, and hurried down the stairs, eager to assist her mother with the tasks that needed doing, hoping to see everything completed in short order so they could hasten to join her cousin and some of her brothers at the Dawnbreeze country estate deep in Eversong Woods. But there was much to be done before they could leave.
Normally, Vendethiel would have remained by herself to oversee the final preparations for a prolonged absence from the house in the city, but she had decided it was time that Talathiel learn the finer points of household management, now that she was on the cusp of adulthood. And so Talathiel remained behind with her mother, thinking longingly of the revels that the rest of her family must be getting up to. But, as distasteful as it was, the work did need to be done, so as to leave more time for play.
Talathiel was all smiles when she joined her mother in the kitchen at the small dining table for a late brunch. Vendethiel, still considered a beauty at two hundred forty five years of age with her alabaster skin and golden hair only just beginning to show fine strands of silver, was using a silver knife to spread berry jam on a buttery roll. She looked up as Talathiel entered, and found her daughter's smile to be infectious.
"You are in a cheerful mood this morning." She commented, turning her attention back to her roll as Talathiel took the seat beside her at the small table. The kitchen table was not designed to seat the entire family, but was used for informal meals.
"It's just such a beautiful day out, I can't help but be cheerful." Talathiel grinned back at her mother, helping herself to the fresh fruit that their cook had peeled, sliced, and artistically arranged on a platter. "Will we be doing any work in the garden today?"
"After we go over the household accounts, see that everything is in order, and do an inspection of the rooms." Her mother agreed, "Our flowers would certainly be most disappointed if we were to neglect visiting with them and tending them for a time before we left."
It hadn't seemed possible, but Talathiel's smile grew even wider. She was learning all her mother had to teach her about the art of gardening, tending to the roses in particular. The lessons in the garden were ones the young quel'dorei looked forward to, hoping someday to have a garden of her own that could match her mother's in its beauty. She didn't dare dream to surpass her mother, for she was still young and sheltered enough to all but worship Vendethiel, believing that her mother was quite perfect. One could not improve upon perfection.
"I'm glad to see the thought pleases you." Vendethiel chuckled at her daughter's obvious enthusiasm. "I…" She trailed off, smile fading into a frown of concern, a small v-shaped crease appearing between her brows as they lowered, her ears not needing to strain to hear alarm bells ringing throughout the city. "Tala, wait here." She ordered as she stood and swept from the room, leaving Talathiel sitting at the table in confusion, a slice of sun fruit in her hand, halfway raised to her mouth as she too frowned, listening to the alarms going off. She nibbled at her fruit while waiting for her mother, wondering if the alarms were merely a drill of some kind. Not that there had ever been such a drill in all the years of her memory. She could not remember the alarm bells ever having been rung before.
It was several minutes before Vendethiel came hurrying back into the kitchen, face pale, fear in her eyes. "Tala, come, we must hurry."
The fruit fell from Talathiel's hand and she stood obediently. "Mother, what is-?"
"Both the outer and inner elf gates have been destroyed by undead." Vendethiel explained, sweeping the contents of the breakfast tray into a cloth napkin, tying it together with its corners, and thrusting it at Talathiel, who took it, quite stunned. The action had been preformed with such haste that it seemed to have been done in less than two heartbeats. Then Vendethiel grabbed Talathiel by her wrist and pulling her along behind her, "Some of the Farstriders were sent to warn the city, but we haven't much time. Come. We will go to the servants quarters in the basement. If we barricade the doors, we may be safe there."
Talathiel felt herself grow cold at her mother's words, an iron knot of fear forming in her belly. "Undead?" She asked, a quaver in her voice as she slipped past the sheer curtain that served as a decorative door to partially obscure the stairs that led down to the lower levels of the house; the servants quarters, the cellars a floor below that. Vendethiel chose a room at random, dragging Talathiel inside and shutting the door, turning the key in the lock. She looked around the room, doing a quick scan, her eyes taking in the sub-par furnishings removed from other parts of the house due to age and shabbiness.
"Into the wardrobe. Now." Vendethiel ordered her daughter, who was still bewildered by this turn of events. How could such a beautiful day change so abruptly? How could disorder and chaos suddenly spring up like so many weeds in lives that had always been as perfectly ordered and carefully tended as their gardens?
"But-"
"No arguing, little love. Into the wardrobe with you." Vendethiel ordered, placing a kiss on Talathiel's forehead, before steering her to the wardrobe, "Do not make a sound, no matter what. We should be safe here, but I will take no chances with your safety."
"Minn'da-" Talathiel started to sob out as her mother opened the wardrobe door, frowning when she saw how poorly hung it was. But there was no time to choose another hiding place now.
"Inside. And not another sound out of you." Vendethiel hissed sternly, wondering if she was imagining the noises she heard overhead. She shut the door to the wardrobe, struggling with the door a moment until she could get it in a position to lock. Once she was certain that Talathiel was as safe as she could make her for the time being, she turned her attention to trying to barricade the door of the small room.
Talathiel manage to seat herself on the floor of the cramped wardrobe, amidst dirty footwear. Whoever used this room and wardrobe was, they favored gowns and robes, for which Talathiel was glad. The soft folds of hanging clothing enveloped her, almost seeming to shield her. A lower hinge was missing from one door, leaving it hanging at an odd angle, which left a small crack that Talathiel could barely see through. It was enough, however. More than enough. She could see her mother shove a nightstand to block the door, but it was too little, too late.
Talathiel could hear the snarls, growls, and sounds of destruction from other parts of the house, hear the sounds come down the hallway, come ever closer. There was growling and snarling outside the door to the room now, and Talathiel realized that the door to their safe place, or what they hoped was a safe place, would be the only closed door in the hallway. Thalion and Vendethiel insisted on the servants keeping the doors to their quarters opened during the day or when they were not occupied.
That realization led to another one. The undead had to possess some sort of rudimentary intelligence; otherwise they would not have noticed the one closed door.
That, or they could sense the living.
Oh minn'da, we should have left the door open and hidden under the bed! Talathiel thought, biting her lips together to keep from making any noise, setting her small bundle of food on the floor of the wardrobe. It was too late-far, far too late-to say anything to her mother, to voice her idea.
There was pounding and clawing on the door. Talathiel could not look away, still biting her lips as she saw her mother take several steps back from the door. Talathiel could no longer see her, and she pulled away when she heard the door finally begin to give with a sickening crack. She did not want to see this. Vendethiel was a powerful mage-priest, and she would be the victor in this battle, of that Talathiel was positive. Knowing that, however, did not mean that she wanted to watch her mother send the undead to a final death. She was afraid that if she did that, she would be ill, and give her hiding place away. She did not want that; Vendethiel had wanted her to remain hidden, so hidden she would remain!
With another crack, the sound of the undead was far clearer, and filing the room. The door must have given way, Talathiel thought, terror and worry rising within her.
"Back, you fiends!" She could hear her mother cry, almost roar, in a stern, clear voice, before the sound of a holy attack cut through the air. Talathiel's long ears could easily pick up the sound of her mother casting her defensive spells. "I said back!" Vendethiel snarled again, though this time, Talathiel could hear the hint of fear and desperation in her mother's voice.
Talathiel's eyes flew open in horror. No... Oh Light, please no!
Then Vendethiel cried out in pain, and Talathiel squeezed her eyes shut, reaching up to cover her ears with her hands, curling up into a ball, trying to protect herself from the sounds and the knowledge of what they meant.
She couldn't block the sound of her mother's screams of agony as the undead tore into her, or the sounds of chewing, gnawing, even as she still screamed in pain, tried to fight.
All she could do was sit in the wardrobe and listen while she tried to stifle her sobs and tell herself that her minn'da would stop suffering soon, that the undead would tear her to pieces and move on. That she had to remain hidden, couldn't cry. Minn'da had wanted her to be safe.
The sounds of suffering did not end for a long time.