I stood at the edge of the barrow den, watching the wisps dance around the ancient purplewoods. I had spent a long time waiting, for our Shan'do was never without a task or some sort of responsibility. One of his calabre never had a free moment. I waited patiently, for all we had to do was wait. Footsteps echoed on the wooden ramp leading out of the den and into the grassy clearing used as a patio as one of our colleagues joined me.
Pontus sat down nearby, his long, proud antlers the envy of the rest of us. So few had been blessed by nature in such a way. Our colleague Sodor had begun to sprout his own despite his lack of focus, making the failure of myself and a handful of others to achieve even more apparent.
At least we were still Druids. Our eyes had turned from the silver all the children of the stars were born with to the amber color of tree sap long ago, signaling that we passed our trials and had been initiated on the path. Those who hadn't even passed the trials became the guards, warriors with no connection to nature but who performed the thankless task of guarding us while we slept. But every time Pontus walked by, the antlers growing from the top of his head almost as developed as those of our teacher, Geldor, many of us in the lower ranks could not prevent the jealousy that had entered our hearts. That Pontus was so congenial and humble only made it worse.
He sat on the short toadstool opposite mine and looked down at the valley inside the clearing before us. He was our shining star yet our greatest envy. An object of pride for our den and brotherly love among all of Geldor's students, yet a constant source of pain and disappointment for those of us still trying to learn how to invoke simple growth spells on young saplings and forest vegetation.
He looked at me with eyes bearing nothing but respect regardless of my rank, and I detested it. Undeserving and uncomfortable, I tried to ignore my den brother but to no avail. "Do you suppose the winters will continue to grow colder as they have the past few decades?" he asked, attempting to flatter me in my efforts to become a true Druid of the Talon like master Geldor.
But I could not accept that which I had not earned. "The asker knows no less than the one asked." I tried to brush off the line of questioning, only giving away my sense of frustration.
"May Elune increase us all in knowledge and skill, my dear friend."
Fighting off the instinct to shut my eyes and growl, I waited for him to grow idle from my lack of response. Eventually Pontus took the hint and stood to leave, patting me on my shoulder as if he'd somehow consoled me for my lack of success or inspired me by his empty words. He wandered off to Goddess knows where, possibly responding to one of several calls of nature a Druid might receive, both personal and general. Alone again, I stared up at what little of the White Lady I could spy through the high purple and green canopy. The clearing created just enough gaps between the leaves for me to see.
Why? Why did the winds fail to respond to my call? Why could my forearms sprout no more than a handful of feathers before my shapeshift fizzled out? Why could my healing spells do no more than to cause a moderately soothing cold sensation in an open cut without sealing anything?
And yet I received no answer. There were no epiphanies or great sources of inspiration; just the glowing mockery of a crater-covered rock floating in the Twisting Nether, unable to affect anything in the mortal realm or even if it eclipsed the sun or not. The empty void of reality rang in my ears until I shut my eyes tight, biting blood from my tongue.
A flower wilted and died when I tried to invoke a spell to make it grow. What was I doing wrong? Why was I being punished by a Goddess I was beginning to suspect didn't even exist?
A second set of footsteps, much lighter and almost soaring across the wooden surface of the ramp, approached. So rare were individual visits from the resident teacher for our small barrow den that all rose to meet him. Yet on that night, as I felt my faith wane in such instability, I found myself remaining seated. Were Pontus or Sodor or any of the others to see, surely I would have been advised publicly and chastised privately. But so humble was Geldor that he took no offense, and only stood next to me as he tried to find what I was looking at.
For the longest time he said nothing, standing on two strong, unhindered legs as he seemed content merely to spend time next to me. To bask in his presence felt undeserved, for so many of my colleagues vied for one on one training sessions with Geldor. Unable to steal time I desired so much yet had not proven worthy of, I forsoke propriety and spoke to a superior in direct terms.
"It called to me again this last time. The voice. I see the thorns everywhere, and yet I do not feel any imbalance."
Neither smiling nor frowning, Geldor pursed his lips as if he were considering my words carefully. I'd confessed my sinful thoughts to him previously, and he'd taken note of my development over the past decade. Such a period of time was a blink of an eye for the children of the stars, for we are a people that do not die, unlike our ancestors. So when the comfortable dreams that should have been nightmares increased in frequency so rapidly, our teacher began to take an active interest.
"And does it only call for you to come to it?" Geldor asked, a legitimate curiosity void of judgment in his tone of voice.
Unable to lie to him of all people, I shook my head and let it hang low. "It has delivered promises now. Promises of great things. It's inside my mind; it knows what I desire." Confession to our teacher had always been so easy, but this time I truly felt shame for what I was dreaming.
Patient as always, he considered what I said for a long time. "The Goddess tests those she loves," he started, speaking in a cautious tone he never used with me before. My shame increased as I realized why. "Your test, I believe, is hope and despair. Elune teaches all educated Kaldorei the right path; but it is up to us to make the right choices. Such is the divine plan beyond our understanding." Once again pulled away by his duties, he left long after most of his individual sessions ended but far sooner that I felt I needed. "We are all responsible for our choices. True faith is not always in achievement; to persevere in the face of hardship is far more worthy of respect." His footsteps as he went back down into the barrow den gradually disappeared, leaving me alone in my acrimony again.
I looked up at the large floating chunk of rock in the sky again, wondering if there truly was something out there that could hear me.
"I've done all I can; and yet I see no results. Am I to be a fool forever, turning down promises of reward for my efforts in order to continue being nothing?"
No response. The echoes of my voice didn't even carry beyond the patio area. The entirety of nature and all the universe continued on without me, leaving one purple spec to seethe as precious time was whittled away in a life that couldn't amount to any more than an elaborate cosmic joke.