A/N: hello, dear readers! Welcome to my second story for Issinia Hearthglen, a mixed race aspiring priestess of the moon in the future of Azeroth. Although this story is chronologically set after The Deer Huntress, as well as other stories in her family's continuum, you do NOT need to read any of my other stories in order to understand this one. If you really want to read my other stories then I'll be thrilled, but I won't force you to. Any important details from the continuum will be revealed in the narrative here, so you'll understand everything that's going on.
For reference, this story takes place on Teldrassil, mostly in the year 68 - it's AU and was written before Legion and BfA. Keep in mind that the Warlords of Draenor expansion took place in the year 31 on most timelines, with Legion following just after; this is a time far in the future of Azeroth, so the current in game expansions are just blips in the history books.
Spring on Teldrassil was always a beautiful time. Really, it was a beautiful time of year just about anywhere in northern Kalimdor, but Teldrassil in particular was a fascinating place. Entirely self contained atop the several flat basins formed in between the massive branches, its environment was largely unaffected by the weather patterns on the mainland. Quiet, peaceful and almost sleepy like all night elven settlements aspired to be, the entire region - because that's what it was, due to sheer size - almost felt like it existed outside of the crises and petty squabbles of the world.
Spring time also meant that Darnassus was empty. After dark when most of the continental tree's inhabitants were awake and active, the starlight often shone on the new leaves in such a way that caused them to change color depending on the angle from which one looked. Families, workers and even sentinels often flocked to the wilds outside of the settled areas to camp and frolic, leaving the capitol city of the Sentinels - one of four major factions in the world - largely empty. For those who had regular work and were obligated to stay behind, it was a peaceful season in its own way: the streets were largely empty aside from wisps and treants, who really didn't talk much.
Crossing a massive stone bridge by sabre, two tall women wearing the uniforms of trainee priestesses bounded toward the southern sanctum of the city. Flowing silver robes whipped in the wind behind them, matching the color of the thin chain wrapped around the forehead of each denoting them both as women of rank...but not high rank. They took their time, allowing the sabres to leap around for a bit, testing their balance as the mounts walked precariously close to the edge of the stone bridge.
Of the two, the one with aqua colored hair and a lighter build looked nervously as they approached the stone buildings denoting the capitol's main temple complex. "At this rate, we're only going to be five minutes early to the startup meeting," the pureblooded Kaldorei, Thandra, said. "I don't like cutting it that close; Trainer Tinalith is lax about everything except being on time!"
Her companion, the same height but of a sturdier body type closer to the sentinels, was unperturbed. Of obviously mixed blood, Issinia's silver elven eyes glowed more powerfully than usual, contrasting sharply to trollish facial features. Those sharp features shifted into a confident smile as they reached the end of the bridge. "We won't be late; we're never late. Besides..." The two of them intentionally ran off the path paved with moon blessed stones and leapt over a row of almost sentient hedges that ruffled fearfully beneath the two sabres, and one of the few sentinels on duty glowered at the two young women from afar. "...it's my mom who shared a bunk with Tinalith for a few thousand years; your mom only met her recently. If we get in trouble, I'll bear the brunt of it anyway."
Despite Issinia's confidence, her nervous counterpart didn't appear consoled. As the two of them dove in between two smaller stone buildings in the complex, she rushed to dismount and set her sabre loose in a grassy alleyway and waited impatiently at the top of a set of steps leading to the side entrance of a two story structure. "Letting you absorb all the punishment because Tinalith expects you to live up to your mom's example isn't what I want," Thandra protested as she tapped her foot on the top of the stairs. That Issinia took her time releasing her own sabre and adjusting her sandals did little to assuage Thandra's concerns. "Remember what happened the time we showed up late for the new High Priestess' inauguration?"
"Woman, do I ever! But honestly, scrubbing the dormitory floors wasn't so bad. And at least you didn't have to join me, right?"
Unconvinced, Thandra only continued to wait at the top of the stairs until Issinia appeared ready, and the two of them snuck in to the trainee clinic through a hallway mostly used to store spare wheelchairs and snack carts. It was an old trick they used when they wished to enter or exit unseen, and to the surprise of both dorm mates and sisters in law, it always seemed to work. A few silent seconds later, and the two of them had entered into the waiting area of the trainee clinic - freshly grown straight from the lower basin of Darnassus, with moonstone directly raised up out of the bowels of Teldrassil through joint efforts by the local priestesses and druids.
It was their third home, and their refuge - a place for both of them to provide help and hone their skills. People even from mainland Kalimdor often flew to Teldrassil for healthcare even if they could only find open appointment slots with the trainees - twenty year old priestesses who had never left Teldrassil, the old joke went, and Thandra was ironically just that until she ventured out and fell for Issinia's brother. Issinia, on the other hand, was a mixed child from the Barrens, and had fought hard for a spot at the temple in the capitol. Since they were sisters in law, the administration had planted them in the same dorm room, which both of them preferred anyway; it made living away from family all the easier.
Behind the reception desk was a brand new bureaucrat whose name nobody could remember; most of them tended to keep to themselves, aside from Issinia's fiancé,and the fact that the clinic was brand new and only held a dozen or so patients so far made it seem a bit empty. The green haired young lady barely even noticed them as they walked in.
Jittery and worried, Thandra skipped forward and leaned over both the reception counter and the drowsy woman's head. "Did the meeting start yet?"
"Gah!"
"Sorry!"
The startled woman looked up at her indignantly for a second, but Thandra had a sort of bashful expression she could make with her eyebrows that disarmed just about anybody. After a few seconds of scowling, the bureaucrat lightened up a bit. "If you're referring to the startup meeting for the new rehab program, then no; you gals are both on time. But everyone else was early, so you'd best get in their."
"What? Elune, we're the last ones!" Thandra whined as she left without thanking the greenhead or even nodding.
"Thank you so much," Issinia said to the woman with a wave. Thandra had already bounded down the hall and was almost to the clinic's staff area, which was open to both trainers as well as trainees.
Taking her time, Issinia strode carefully toward the room in question. Technically, all training temples were equally funded and staffed; the most remote temple in Silithus was just as capable of producing quality priestesses (and priests, in that day and age) at their current location, but everybody competed for spots in Darnassus for prestige and the amenities. For Issinia, a perpetual overachiever in the martial side of priestess training, earning a spot there had been easy enough, and the fact that her father was a troll also helped her due to preferences for diversity at the temple; for others, it was a tooth and nail fight all for reasons not related to academics. As Issinia passed by a mural that actually was of Silithus, she couldn't help but chuckle warmly at all the backstabbing that she and Thandra had managed to stay out of.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a single person sitting in the recreation room for patients. Amid the empty tables for chess matches and gazette reading, a single woman wearing the standard silver one piece uniform issued to all long term patients folded her hands in her lap and looked positively bored. Her hair was messily tied in a bun and she appeared a bit tired, though not haggard, as if she hadn't slept well. As Issinia passed by, the woman looked up with amber eyes that would have insinuated druidic power were they not...faded. Issinia's own mother had faded eyes that didn't glow much, but that's because her mother was twelve thousand years old; this woman was obviously much younger, but the fading color in her eyes and hair seemed odd.
For a split second, the tired look faded. Animated as if she'd been presented a gift from a long lost friend, the woman's brow furrowed in an almost mushy way, as if she'd been invisible for so long that a simple glance from Issinia brightened up her day. It was as endearing as it was uncomfortable - Issinia was great on the battlefield, blasting away demons much like the previous High Priestess Whisperwind, but had never been much of a healer. In fact, the main reason for her signing up at the trainee clinic was so she could finally become more balanced in her class. However, at that point in her training, she was still no healer and in fact was even still coping with residual discomfort around the sick and the needy (and, especially, the clingy). As much as she would like to introduce herself to the lonely looking patient, the reality was that she had a meeting to attend, and the overall treatment that the woman was receiving would surely be more valuable than a few token words. Surely.
Leaving the woman to slump back into her chair in disappointment, Issinia hurried into the meeting room just in time to nearly bulldoze the head trainer and her mother's former companion across several millennia.
"Ack! Tinalith, I'm so sorry!"
Reaching down, Issinia grabbed the much smaller woman at the last minute, much to the amusement of her fellow trainees who were already seated. There were only seven of them - including two men, a sight unseen just a few decades ago - and all were wearing the same robes denoting them as beginners in the Sisterhood of Elune. An assistant waited at the front of the rows of chairs, looking rather sheepish as the elder priestess was almost knocked over by a trainee.
"Don't worry about it, Issa; we are all thankful to have you here. Should the Burning Legion ever reform, we'll all have somebody to hide behind." It was the most catty statement that the violet haired priestess had ever made, and garnered many more snickers than it probably should have. "Please take a seat; this meeting shouldn't take long," Tinalith said more firmly, though soft and polite as always.
"Of course, of course," Issinia replied before rushing to grab the nearest empty chair.
Walking toward the front of the room, Tinalith carried the firm elegance and elegant firmness that a priestess of the moon should; strong yet sensitive, commanding yet understanding. That she was also, without a hint of exaggeration, literally the shortest night elf that Issinia had ever seen didn't detract from that aura. Tinalith was even shorter than some humans, and had been the runt of Serenity, the village the woman had shared with Issinia's mother during the Long Vigil, but she never let her diminutive stature affect her; she had the sort of personality that made people want to listen to her talk, rather than do so out of some sense of obligation.
After the obligatory prayer to open the meeting, Tinalith surveyed the group of seven, locking eyes with each to ensure that they were listening. "I've spoke with each of you individually, so you already know what's afoot; this is just a review meeting, if anything." Taking a deep breath, she began sketching a stylized picture of a heart on the chalkboard at the front of the room. "The government has granted us a serious endowment for the first rehabilition program for recovering substance abusers in the history of our faction. As you all know, drug usage carries a greater stigma in our society than perhaps any other on Azeroth; discretion is of the utmost importance, and a lack of it is what caused all but seven candidates - you - to have their applications rejected. No real names shall be used outside of these doors, and you have permission of the higher ups to intentionally lie about your current course of study; we all know what the scriptures say about telling untruths for the greater good.
"Now, on to the program structure. Of the twelve long term patients here, we have seven women and three men. Two of the women are serious cases which I will handle myself; each of the rest of you ladies will be assigned one enrollee in the program to sponsor, and one only. For the gents, it's a bit different, and we try to keep patients paired with counsellors of the same gender; it isn't actually required for the healing process and gender is by no means a hindrance, but research from Pandaria on the topic finds there is a small increase in comfort level for some patients." She turned to the older of the two male priests, a silver haired man who appeared to be a bit older. "Jupiter, I believe you already agreed to sponsor two patients at once, correct?"
"That's correct."
"Good. For the rest of you, it will be one counsellor, one patient. I'll remind you all now to keep detailed notes on the progress of each patient; we'll meet each week for a progress check and to share experiences and successful practices. And if there's one thing I would like to emphasize: while we do monitor the dietary intake and medication of our patients, this is first and foremost an affair of the heart; there are certain aspects of the recovery process which are felt rather than measured. Do not ever lose sight of the fact that your patients are living beings, not test subjects. Yes Thandra?"
"So we're not going to be rotating patients at all?"
"No, certainly not. While it is possible for a patient to switch counsellors mid treatment, research we've obtained from other factions indicates that it does tend to cause delays in the process. Remember, substance abusers are still ill; they are in need of a safe place, a familiar place where they feel they are not lost and without any control over their lives. Consistency is a part of building trust, and we want to keep their treatment as consistent as possible. Each of you will be introduced to the patients you'll be counseling in just a few moments; the basic program is six months minimum, with the possibility of extension due to the fact that each individual will progress at a slightly different rate. So for the next six months, the individuals you're about to meet will be your subjects of personal devotion; your quest is to ensure that they can cope with the hurt they carry from the past, and return to being productive and happy people. Are there any more questions?" After a brief pause, Tinalith nodded. "Good; it seems that my individual meetings with all of you earlier in the week provided most of the needed information. Please, come forward and we'll distribute basic biographical information on your patients before we hold the introductions."
At Tinalith's prompting, her assistant began shuffling forms containing a series of filled in boxes, carefully concealing the names in each from all save the assigned counsellor for each patient. In a carefully organized fashion, six of the trainees all lined up to receive their assigned forms, eager to learn about the people they'd been tasked with helping as part of their final training regimens.
As the only one out of line, Issinia was approached proactively by Tinalith. "A question you'd like to ask in private?" Tinalith asked with a wry smile.
Ears drooping meekly, Issinia felt as exposed as she would had it been her own mother there. "Erm...yes. You know, I just wanted to ask..."
"...about your application for the internship at the temple's mission in Uldum?"
Issinia grinned wide at how easily she'd been read. "Yes," she replied.
Tinalith snorted in amusement and looked down, ever humble despite her millennia of experience. "Issa...you are an incredible combat priestess. You don heavy armor lime your mother or even the late Priestess Whisperwind herself, and offensively, your starfall spell is surprisingly focused and well controlled for your age."
"But..."
"...but, your healing is subpar. And part of being a priestess is that balance; in order to lead, you must do it all. You must be able to charge on sabre back into battle, to wreak havoc on enemy lines when nature is threatened, but also to care for the wounded and the sick. There is no room for euphemisms when we're dealing with people's lives: you need to become a better healer. It is my hope, as well as your family's, that this training course will help you with that."
Nodding, accepting and greatly tamed by the overt constructive criticism, Issinia felt as if she'd been brought back down to Azeroth. "So there's no chance right now?"
"I won't say there's no chance; in the next few months, acceptance letters will be sent out, and Uldum is a difficult location where the missionaries often accept who they can get; but that would result in you leaving your patient midway through treatment, which would be detrimental to you both. There will always be other opportunities to advance your career, especially after you put the proper amount of time into training."
"I know...I know," Issinia sighed. The six others had already taken their forms from the assistant, who had left to run through introductions between counsellors and patients. "Well, since it's just you and me here, could you tell me who it is I'll be helping for the next half a year?"
"Certainly; in fact, you might have already seen her. Anna is a very special case: she was once from a small village like your mother and I, but fell in with the wrong crowd and was...pushed into an unsavory line of work. She has both substance abuse as well as issues relating to abandonment and intentional damage done to her feeling of self worth. She's a wonderful, very special person who could be helped so much by someone with your motivation."
For a few seconds Issinia smiled and felt warmed by the sad description of a woman of similar background in distress. But once the first part of Tinalith's explanation echoed in her mind, she began to worry. "Uh...already seen her...was she a druidess, by any chance?"
"Yes, I do believe she was; she's between my height and yours, dark blue hair with some grey. She was sitting right in the rec room down the hall literally just before the meeting started."
Issinia gulped visibly; the woman she'd clearly blown off and disappointed was the one she was supposed to be treating for emotional damage and feelings of abandonment and low self worth. This was going to be a very tough few months.