Monody: A Tale of Two Worlds
World of Warcraft
! WARNING !
Contains interratial relationships (Troll x Night Elf).
Rated as Mature (for ages 16 and up). Take into account that it can develop into MA (18+), since in the future it may contain detailed descriptions of physical violence or sexual themes. Besides that, it's just a fluffy love story.
Disclaimer
I don't own Warcraft, WoW, or characters of these franchises used in this work of fiction. They are Blizzard Entertainment's property, and not my intelectual property. I don't get any financial gain out of the production of this work nor is it sought. This was written with entertainment purposes only.
Any constructive criticism is welcome. I specially ask my readers to point out any spelling or gramatical mistake that may appear on the story, since English is not my main language. Without further ado,
Monody
A Tale of Two Worlds
Chapter I
A Voice in the Trees
It was a very starry night. Climbed up to the highest branch she could reach, the huntress watched over the leafy jungle with melancholy. The blueish night light did nothing more than add to the exoticism of Tanaan's flora; nevertheless, she missed her home's woods more than ever. She felt lonely and lost in the strange place, even if she had been leaving there for a longer time than she cared to admit.
It hadn't been so long since she had enlisted on the Alliance's army. She was a young elf, who hadn't even reached adulthood yet, but she had labored her way throught the troops with astonishing dexterity. Being extremely skillful with the bow since she was a little girl, she had exploited her talent to take care of her bigger sister, who had a frail constitution and poor she could do to seize her own food. In exchange, she helped the young huntress with her studies and books, which little could do to conquer her wild and free spirit. The unmatched progress of the young elf soon drew the atention of the elder elves, who strongly recommended her to take things easy, and to think carefully before acting; even if the elf had always listened to her elders, they forced the sentinels to quickly take in the huntress into their care, which would benefit them all. That was the way she became the most recent neophyte of her new home's, Teldrassil, circle of protection, once her community was forced to flee from Bashal'Aran's surroundings, the place that saw her be born into this world.
Neophyte – as she was now called, after more than a century of being the latest newcomer of the sentinels – could have received Teldrassil as her home quickly, since she thought it was a wonderful and pleasant place, if it wasn't because of the constantly worsening of her sister's health. Almost immediately after fleeing their homeplace, her dearest felore seemed to gradually loose her sanity. Once Neophyte discovered what was happening to her, it was already too late.
Softly shaking her head -and thus, her thoughts-, causing the dreadlocks and ornaments of her helm to make thuds when hitting against each other and her pauldrons, she forced herself to come back to present times. She raised her head, searching for the moonlight, asking Elune once again to be merciful upon her sister, even after all that had happened. She sighed and stood on her feet with dominated balance over the thin yet strong tree branch. Grabbing a particulary useful hole on the tree's cortex, she stretched her free arm and sung a song, a skill she would have never had acquired if it weren't because of her -also recently acquired- solitary nature. She considered it a way to train her vocal chords that wasn't speaking to herself in her hovel, located some trees far back, badly built, but with strong dedication, and so very nicely hidden that over several years noone had detected it, not even expert explorers Neophyte had the displeasure -and fear- of meeting in the Jungle of Tanaan.
The high hustle of the jungle did not deteriorate the delicate sound of the song at all; on the contrary, it escorted it perfectly. In fact, it wasn't clear if it was Neophyte or the lively -even in the darkest of night- wildlife who ruled the melody's intonation.
Rala had never, ever heard something so beautiful in his life.
The rough hunter could have dedicated practically his whole life to war and not know much about beautiful things, but without a doubt he could detected once he heard it. Every bird, every cricket, every spirit of the jungle, seemed to echo a melodious and armonious tune he had never heard, but it set up in his heart just like the tenderest childhood memory, like the most affectionate moment, like the... warmest food in his empty stomach. Truely, Rala didn't have any idea of how to be poetic, but he couldn't find the words to describe what he heard; maybe because it wasn't something that was meant to be heart – it was meant to be felt. He felt it deep inside, where the best of our beings is carefully guarded. He would never forget that melody, even if he couldn't hear it clearly, nor understand what it said.
But there was a thing that he did know: he must know where did it come from.
Putting his bow away, he started to climb trees, searching for the source of such a beautiful voice. His mind constantly warned him that he was being careless, he was a soldier after all! He shouldn't venture so carelessly in the leafy jungle, but he trusted his skills, and be it a tramp – he could overcome it with ease.
Immersed in singing, Neophyte didn't notice the approaching presence as soon as she may have wanted. Regardless of that, she was as good in stalking her prey as putting their shoes on so as to know the best way to flee from a potential predator – this simple yet effective system had been extremely effective and useful in her ordinary life as in war. Then, her concert was partially interrupted – except the birds who refused to finish their cantus, and carried on reviving the melody.
This confused Rala, who noticed a few deadly seconds too late that the voice had gone silent, since while he thought about it, he was already targeted by a tensed bow and sharp arrow, from a night elf who had climbed quickly on his branch. The edge of the arrow was at such a dangerous short distance form his neck that he couldn't believe his eyes. How could that happen? Him, a veteran soldier of the Horde, a Shadow Hunter, tricked in just a few seconds. His brain didn't stop to repeat a single sentence - "I told ya, mon".
Nevertheless, something made Rala think it over – how come he was still alive?
The elf's face was almost entirely hidden by her helm, only letting Rala see her empty yet bright iris-less eyes. The hunter have never felt so stupidly in the edge of death as in that instant, being scrutinized by inscrutable eyes, reduced to the shame of living long enough to understand how easily he had been fooled. Sweat beaded his entire body, and he could taste the salt when a tear from his forehead completed its journy to the commisure of his mouth. He was terrified, even if he didn't want to admit it.
However, fear was replaced with incredulity when the elf moved away the arrow from its dangerous position and made him a sign to get away from there. He heard her pronounce with ferocity words he couldn't understand, and that sounded like the hiss of a serpent ready to jump on its prey. Only that she wasn't hunting him. She was letting him go.
- Whoa! Are ya r'lly lettin' me go? - wanted to know the troll. As the only answer, the elf tilted her head. Nothing else. Not even a reiteration of the supposed threatening hissing he received earlier. If moments ago his mind was telling him to go back from where he came from because it could be a trap, he couldn't even imagine what was happening inside the archer's head that made her have mercy on Rala's life.
Rala distended a bit and scratched the back of his head. There were a lot of different emotions for just a day, to ask himself what, in the name of the Loa, was happening there. Two mortal enemies, fighting for balance on a tree branch, trying to have a conversation?
Neophyte maybe had a slight idea of what was happening, though. She was tired of spilling blood. She evaded as much as possible all confrontations with the Horde, thankful whenever she had to go back to her garrison -once a week, or a week and a half- and the council asked for her to take decisions against Draenor's dangers instead of the Horde's army, whom she came to understand and even care for them a bit after so many battles where she had to fight side-by-side with them to confront enemies far more superior to the quarrels they had over topics that, to speak the truth, she didn't consider so important to deserve an eternity of hatred between both factions. In fact, everything had developed over a conflict mostly between humans and orcs, which her community didn't effing care at all until they were caught up in the middle.
She couldn't figure out whatever the troll said to her, but she noticed him relaxing, and those were things she didn't overlook. She looked at him from head to toes quickly: he was obviously a soldier, who weared clothes and armor quite similar to hers, made with the most natural elements, took from and made from Dreanor's wildlife, as any great warrior who wanted to go unnoticed in the wild landscape would do. He had a bright blue skin that made Neophyte remember the moonlight she admired so much. Would have he turned to her, surely his sharp and prominent tusks would have left to short and dangerous centimeters from her face.
Sighing, Neophyte asked if he wanted to beat her up. Quickly, she sweared in a whisper, and asked again, accompanying with frowns and hand signs, trying to get the troll to understand what she meant.
- Do you want to have a duel with me? - she pronounced every ward slowly, making use of her hands as if she were talking to a child.
The troll raised a brow, showing that he was, at the very least, trying to comprehend what she wanted to say. Half a second after the huntress had finished, he suddenly opened his eyes and mouth with amazement, a gesture she vaguely realized since the troll had his face almost entirely hidden as well. The sudden movement of his body was what made her realize that he was indeed surprised, since he leaned slightly backwards... and almost falls from the tree.
As a reflex action, Neophyte grabbed with one hand a nearby branch, and, with the other, the troll's arm. Would her have been a weakling, she couldn't have endured with the corpulent troll's body, but she wasn't sure the branch was that strong either, so she quicly brought the hunter closer to her to save him from the fearsome force of gravity. This time, they were closer to the trunk... and to each other.
Aghast, they looked at each other scarce seconds, both with their hearts beating fiercely from the fear and the sudden closeness. The troll quickly looked away, while the elf slowly lowered her gaze to the ground, with her cheeks burning from fury, bewilderment and shame. They remained that way for a minute that seemed like hours, until the rough and carefree voice from the male was heard over the nocturnal noise of the jungle.
- It waz ya... Ze one who waz singin' earlier – said the troll, looking back again to the elf, who had barely raised her head, surprised that the hunter would talk to her again -. Ya have a beautiful voice.
Rala immediately wanted to took back what he said. Praising the enemy? But, what the thunders was happening to him tonight? He felt relieved that the elf couldn't understand him, because it would have been extremely humilliating. He scratched his chin, and took a look at the elf, taking a few moments to observe her calmly. Her armor didn't show off not even a bit of skin to the world, but still he could notice the strong muscle tone she had. He had never paid attention to female night elves' height, but the huntress was nearly as tall as him. In the battlefield, there was no time to take notice of things like that. He suddenly felt the elf tension, and then he knew why – he felt exactly like that just some moments ago.
She was trapped between the troll and the tree, in an extremely unconfortable position to defend herself from danger. Surely, thought Rala, as a warrior like she is, she's studying the environment, so as to find a way to escape and defend herself from him, just like he would have done -and did- in her place. He felt strangely proud at the comprehension feeling he had reached, as if he felt honored in the presence of a soldier as valuable (or more) than him; and proud in himself was something Rala rarely made to a side, but he had to admit, at least, that he had been outplayed that night.
- Ya know? - spoke Rala -. Ya saved dis troll's guts twice dis night... - he said, and took distance from her, allowing the elf to have a space she didn't expected; the hunter knew that because of the, seemingly, look of disbelief she had... with those empty eyes, which now had a renewed sparkle of something Rala thought was gratefulness -. Meself may be a troll, but even some of us have our values, elf-mon.
Neophyte didn't understand a word of what the troll was saying, but something in his voice made her relax. Disturbed as she was, she forgot once again the venerable elders' advice. Without knowing exactly why, she took the troll's wrist and pulled a little, pointing a way through the branches and lianas. Surprised that the hunter followed her quietly and without doubt, her heart began beating more and more intensely with each step she took.
None of them knew if they were going to one's death, the other's, or both's – or maybe none's.
But what they really didn't know was that they were going to change the world as they knew it forever.
Like that, after a road full of obstacles, they made it to Neophyte's hidden hovel.