She took in a breath that warmed her chilled throat. The breath pushed itself into her lungs and forced them to open. So wide and full they filled up she feared they might pop in her rib cage and she wanted to stop taking in so much air. She realized that the breath was not hers. Her body spasmed as she coughed out the breath. A wide hand turned her over to her side and slapped her back to help her push out the breath. She wheezed, hands clutching her burning chest. She opened her eyes and looked up at the shiny face of a draenei man.
"It's all right," said the sky-blue man in Draenic, "it's all right."
He stopped slapping her back. Balling his fist, he rubbed her back with her knuckles. Her cold, wet body shook.
"What is your name?" he asked.
The draenei woman breathed slower, deeper. At last she answered, "Mishka."
"Mishka," he said. "I am Tal—"
A great roar echoed in the dark green valley they rested. Mishka could see in the reflection of the small lake another white, sleek pod freefall towards the earth. She squeezed her eyes closed and turned her face into the grass. After several seconds a deep boom echoed throught the land and a small earthquake shook the earth. Mishka clutched the grass as the land beneath her trembled.
"It—It's all right," Tal said, his voice cracking.
When the earthquake stopped, he put an arm underneath her torso and another underneath her knees. Mishka curled up and held his neck. He took a large breath as he hoisted her up. She turned her forehead away as best as she could so her curved horns would not cut into his long chin tendrils.
"There," he said, turning around.
"Where are we going?" she whispered, barely able to hear herself over his heartbeat.
"To shelter."
His hooves dug deep into the ground as he started up the hill, following the creek that emptied itself into the larger lake. At the top of the steep hill was a large piece of the spaceship Exodar. All around the sides of cylinder-shaped structure were gargantuan pink crystal glowing in the twilight. In her heart Mishka felt as if the large crystal was humming to her.
"Is it…calling us?" she whispered.
"Yes. Perhaps there are other survivors," he said in a stronger voice this time.
As they approached the top of the hill, a dark blue draenei with a long black beard patrolling the pod saw them.
"Tal!" he cried out, running to them. "Let me take her and lean on my shoulder."
Mishka stared at this new draenei with wide eyes. She felt Tal sigh and lean over to give Mishka to the other man. The strange man smiled at her as she put her arms around his shoulders. Tal grunted in relief when the new man carried her now.
"Lean on me, Tal. I don't like the look of that leg."
"Thank you, my friend," said Tal clasping a hand on the man's shoulder.
They took a step before Tal crumpled unconscious on the ground.
"Tal!"
The man kneeled down and gently set Mishka down. She sat up ramrod straight, her chest and muscles still aching. The man flipped Tal over and put and hand on his chest. Mishka put a hand on Tal's chest as well.
"You are still very weak. You will need your energy for yourself," said the man.
She shook her head. "I have enough to give," she said, swaying a little from dizzyness.
"Bless you," said the man.
They closed their eyes and bowed their heads. As Mishka looked inside herself for energy she could spare, the man started the prayer:
Blessed are the Naaru, for they have not forgotten us
Please lend us Your Light
To heal our friend Tal'Vathion
So he may serve You another day
Let it be
Mishka gasped as she felt a sudden surge of warmth and light fill her body. She firmly kept her eyes closed to break the trance, though it was difficult. She wanted to see if the golden energy she could feel seeping out of her fingers was helping Tal at all. Her spine slumped lower and lower as more energy was taken, until her forehead touched the back of her hand./p
"Mishka?" she heard Tal's voice speak to her through a wall of water.
"I'm sorry, I was worried this might happen, but she wanted to help," said the man's voice.
Now she her hair was smoothed behind her ear by gentle, long fingers. Mishka opened her eyes. She saw his face, heard his heart, and felt his chest slowly rise and fall against her cheek. A priestess draenei, her violet fingers combing Mishka's hair, spoke to her in a gentle voice.
"Can you stand?" said the priestess.
Mishka closed her eyes and lifted her head off of Tal. The priestess put an arm around Mishka and lifted her up to her hooves. Mishka's breath caught in her throat as the world seemed to spin around her. She heard Tal being helped to his feet by the other draenei.
"What is your name?" Mishka asked as the group slowly made their way to the entrance of the crashed pod.
"Telooru. And you are Mishka?"
She frowned as she answered, "Yes."
Telooru rubbed her curled horns against Mishka's. "It's nothing to be embarrassed about. Mishka is a beautiful name."
Mishka cringed from the touch of Telooru's horn. Her name meant 'girl,' with a connotation of obedience. Her mother refused to change her name, even when Mishka turned 200 years old. Mishka asked only twice for her named to be changed. The first time, her mother laughed and called her Drolka for a little while, which also meant 'girl' but with a connotation of arrogance. Her throat began to burn as she remembered tailing her mother in the markets, her mother loudly calling out "Drolka! Drolka!" loud enough for every draenei to hear. She remembered them staring at her like a horde of bees glaring at a bear trying to steal honey. A few weeks later, Mishka caved and asked for her name to be changed back to her birth name.
"Who is the man helping Tal?" Mishka asked, swallowing the heat in her throat.
"Saamil," Telooru said.
As they rounded the structure, the crash site resembled a finger-less gauntlet that had been cut from the original armor. Silver-gray metal was built and twisted on top of smoothed pink crystal layer with red circles and insignias seemingly painted inside the crystal. Several paladins and priests that took care of the injured inside the only shelter for miles approached the group. Mishka and Tal were given blanket scraps that survived the crash to rest on. They laid together next to the dozens of moaning and weeping draenei that crowded the round, white room. Inside the room was very warm but dry as Light emitted from the crystals above to embrace the survivors below.
Saamil excused himself to meet with the other patrolling guards while Telooru knelt by Tal, her hands hovering over his bruised left knee. Light emitted from her hands as she whispered incantations to heal his wound. Mishka propped herself up on her elbows to watch the priestess's work a bit better.
"Water?" asked a young boy carrying a small pot of water around his neck. He held a tiny tin cup full of water out towards Mishka. She looked at the cup and then at the boy.
"How much?" Mishka asked.
"As much as you need," he answered.
"No, no. How much does it cost?"
"It doesn't cost anything," the boy said flatly. He frowned and his eyes flitted away from hers.
"I-I'm sorry," said Mishka, taking the cup. "I forgot. Thank you."
Mishka drained the cup in two gulps. Her mind clearer, she gave the cup back to the boy. "Thank you."
The boy smiled and looked at her again. "You're welcome! Tal'Vathion, would you like some water?"
"Of course, thank you Xelo."
Mishka laid down and rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hands. Her head swam from all that happened in such a short span of time. Zangarmarsh. Blood elves. Tempest Keep. Separation from Mother. The crash. Now here she was with a handful of draenei survivors whom she only knew by face on Telredor, the town built on a mushroom cap in Zangarmarsh.
Mishka turned to Tal, and said, "I want to thank you too, for helping—"
Suddenly, a priest knelt by Mishka and interrupted in a booming voice. "Mishka! I'm glad to see you well!"
Mishka turned her head to look at the pale-blue priest with a long, silver beard. She had seen him many times in Zangarmarsh, but never spoke to him once. Maybe her mother knew him.
"It is good to see you well," Mishka said. "Have you seen my mother?"
He gave her a kind, hopeful smile. "No, I have not seen her, but I'm sure we will find her well. She is a very strong woman. Now, where do you hurt?"
"My muscles are very sore, especially my chest and my lungs."
Tal spoke up. "I'm sorry, that was my fault."
Both Mishka and the priest looked at Tal. He addressed the priest.
"I'd found her face-down in by the edge of a small lake when I came-to. I brought her to shore and resuscitated her. I may have been too forceful."
Her body went cold as he described her near-death in a clipped tone. He turned his head away from both Mishka and the priest.
"Right, let me start at the top, then," said the priest, his glowing fingers hovering around her brain for a few moments before focusing his energy at her chest. Her wet, periwinkle robes dried under his light touch. Slowly, her tight muscles relaxed and the soreness faded away.
"Thank you for saving me," she murmured to Tal.
He turned his head towards her and smiled.
"Thank you, too, for helping me earlier," said Tal. "Saamil told me how you helped in prayer while you were asleep."
Mishka's cheeks went hot. "Yes. You're welcome."
They didn't say much after that. Mishka squirmed inside, embarrassed that she fainted after expended so little energy to help heal Tal, while he expended so much to revive her and bring her to shelter.
Again Mishka mused if her mother was alive, or even her father. Her heart skipped a beat at the thought of her mother dead. A silent, dead mother rotting somewhere in the forest. She gasped as she forced this dark thought out of her mind.
"What's wrong?" the priest had stopped.
"Nothing, nothing," Mishka said, covering her face with a hand. "Everything's coming at once."
He paused, then smoothed her hair and said, "I understand."