"Fifty years ago, the folly of the Alliance and Horde attracted the most lethal enemies that any world has ever seen. Unable to reconcile their differences for one reason or another, Azeroth sustained devastation that threatened to consume the world as so many had been consumed before. The Legion slaughtered man, woman, and child. They converted those who were hungry for power, twisted them into things that only nightmares had borne witness to before. The leaders of the people were the first to fall, and new leaders began to rise. Several years into the bloody war that followed, with so much lost and everything to gain, a group of people gathered and attempted what had only been done once before."
The speaker hardly lifted her voice beyond simple conversation, yet she held her audience in thrall. The soft rustle of fabric accompanied her steps, and it took some time before Maeve was able to see the woman herself. What she saw was something that she could only describe as flawless. Raven black hair spun in curls to fall down a straight back, whisking quietly along the fabric of the silver sash around gently rounded hips. She was slender, curved enough to be truly feminine, but no image of fertility.
Instead, she was the picture of quiet power, of unmistakable strength that wrapped around the room and held those who were seated within her grasp with nothing more than her words. She paused in the middle of the room, at the crossroads where each table of students formed around her, and Maeve could see the briefest flash of dimly glowing silver eyes framed by thick lashes, of full lips seated in a neutral expression, and then there was nothing but the wash of black curls as the woman turned to observe those who sat around her.
"These people were no different from you. They were no stronger, and several were considerably weaker. They all held one thing in common. One thing," the woman lifted a hand, holding up a single finger, "that was imperative to the success of what they wished to do. Desperation. The blind faith, blind hope, that what they sought to do could be that which would save them. If they managed it, it could be a chance at salvation. There was nothing else to lose... not when the cities stood in ruins, their people dead or reduced to shades of their former self.
"Together, they attempted what only one man had done previously. As the Legion closed in on these survivors, they reached into the depths of their despair and found hope, and ripped a tear into the fabric of the universe. They had no idea what lay on the other side, but anything was better than what they were facing. So they ran. Less than a thousand people flooded through this tear, herding animals and carrying children. The pure energy needed to do such a thing drew the Legion to them, and in one final clash the portal was destabilized and it closed behind those who had run. Hundreds remained... hundreds were lost. Their fates are unknown, but those who survive still hope..."
The woman watched those around her, then began walking towards the front of the room, where she mounted the stairs and turned to look over them. "This is not Dalaran. You are not wizards, or mages, or arcanists. Those are simple terms used for a breed of being that is dead. What you are, somewhere deep down in the untapped rooms of your mind, is special. You are the heirs of the first, those born of a deep desire to survive. Many of you were born in the aftermath..." Her head tipped, a flicker of emotion tainting her otherwise stoic tone.
"The Academy is a place of learning that will hone your abilities into formidable weapons. Make no mistake – you will learn, you will fight, or you will die. This world is beautiful, but it has it's own dangers that rival even the worst that we once knew on Azeroth. You are not children. I will not allow you to walk blindly on this world, or any other. But make no mistake: no matter what you fear, no matter what haunts you, no matter how frightening the most terrible thing you can think of, I am far worse."
Silence met her words, an uneasy shift of students as they glanced from one to another and then back up as the woman gestured to the row of figures that stood behind her at the long table. "Behind me are your teachers. Your classes are varied, and every bit important. There are no grades; you will know if you have passed or failed, and it is your duty to learn where you have failed and improve. Consider your most dire failing grade to be that of death. Which is possible, and has happened.
"Ashadel," the elven woman stepped forward with a smirk, arms folded over her chest, "leads the Grey Riders, an organization within the Academy that enforces the rules that are laid down, which will be told to you before you leave this hall. Not only that, she acts as groundskeeper for the Academy. She tends to enjoy speaking to the students, and you'll find her good company. If, of course, you don't get on her bad side." Ashadel stepped back as another woman was gestured forward.
Tall, with white hair and horns that were swept back along her skull, the draenei moved with an aged grace that suited her despite her height. "Eaxoa is our librarian, working in tandem with Xaedryx, another teacher who you will deal with at another time. She also teaches the history class, which covers both Azeroth and what we know of Nalorn. Under her tutelage, you will learn of what we have faced, and what you will face."
"Saiya," a slender kaldorei slipped forward as Eaxoa returned to the line, "is our resident druidess. She watches over Dreamer's Fall with her brothers, who you will rarely see unless you dare to step into the woods. Which, you should not do unless you are in the company of a Rider, or one of the Wardens. She teaches our class on the care of our creatures, as well as riding the drakes of Nalorn... if any of you should prove to have the capability."
"In regards to the Wardens." Replacing Saiya were two Sin'dorei women. They wore their red hair long, bound back by leather ties. Black cloaks concealed most of their figures, dark plate armor chased with silver barely visible in the candlelight that managed to slip past. On their backs, claymores were sheathed and strapped tightly. "On the left is the Warden Commander, Gildedsun." The taller of the two bowed her head briefly. "On the right, our Captain of the Guard, Forgewhisper." The shorter, more curved elven woman tipped her head, plate grating as her arms folded.
"The Wardens are the military force for Nalorn, with their base quite far to the west near the Ivory Coast. These two act as instructors for the combat arts, but they also keep an eye on those who have great skills or talents with blades. Without the Wardens, we would be bereft of a great deal of protection. Consider them the elite of any combative forces that you might encounter. They are few in number, but each is capable of standing against a small army on their own. Don't let their beauty fool you – they are ruthless teachers, and vicious opponents." The two backed up as the woman peered out over the crowd again.
"There are others you will meet here, others you will bond with. Your service here will continue until you are either ready to leave, or you die. The Academy does not release those who have failed to live up to the expectations of the Headmistress." The woman gestured to herself. "My name is Kas'viri Lunarspell, but you will call me Headmistress, or Mistress. Nothing more, nothing less. Consider that the first rule of the Academy.
"The second rule to keep in mind is that you are not children. You will not be put into corners for disobedience. You will not have your desserts taken from you, your toys discarded, and you will not be locked in your rooms to contemplate your misdeeds. The punishments here at the Academy are specifically created to break you of your childish impulses to balk at your betters. I can assure you, you will not enjoy disobedience.
"To that end, be aware that the dormitories are mixed gender. We do not believe in separating men and women – you are adults. You'll act like them between the sheets, and unless you decide to do something excruciatingly foolish in regards to sexual conduct, there is no rule forbidding... fraternization." She paused at the rush of guilty chuckles, though they hushed as her hand lifted. "Our teachings will be rough, and brutal. If you find relaxation within the arms of another, seek it."
"The last and most important rule, is this." Her tone became firm, her expression stern. "The Academy is a place of learning. We teach what we know and what we are learning in the hopes of never allowing the fate of Azeroth to happen again. To that end, the summoning of demons, or of powerful arcane magics, that might pull the attention of the Legion to our world are all forbidden. This is your only warning, this is the only time you can claim innocence. It is this rule that asks no forgiveness. Break it, and your execution will be public and brutal."
Maeve felt the chill of the words down her spine, and cast a quick glance to Tyler, who nodded back at her. The silence stretched out painfully, tension lying thick over the room before the sound of heavy footfalls on stone dragged the attention of the crowd away from the slender figure and back towards the door. A man, for one so broad of shoulder and of such height could hardly be anything but, swept from the doors through the crowd, offering the Headmistress only the faintest nod of acknowledgment from beneath the deep hood that cloaked his face from view. Beneath the cloak he wore, the large hand-and-a-half sword on his hip was only just visible inches from the floor.
Kas'viri, for all the cold that she seemed to radiate just moments before, warmed considerably as the man swept behind her. Her head turned just so, a pale flicker of a smile ghosting on her lips. The sin'dorei Wardens bent their heads in polite deference, both moving in tandem to make room for him as he stepped into place beside the blonde Rider. Her eyes turned back towards the door, and she stood as if expecting someone else to stride through. No one did, and the slight flicker of sadness was easily missed as she returned her attention to the students.
Maeve had seen several sides to the woman in their short time together, but the look that she saw Ashadel grant the man as he came to stand beside her was one that she felt she should not have been surprised at. The woman clearly knew laughter and joy despite the struggles of the world, but the quarter-elf was now certain that the age that seemed to weigh on the Rider had lifted considerably. She knew the look that was given to the stranger; a look of love that knew no boundaries. It was a look that made Maeve ache, and she looked away to give the woman a sense of privacy.
But the look that Ashadel held was not one that was missed, and the sudden appearance of the man who made no gestures to introduce himself, or even unmask his hidden features, started a low murmur that grew into the steady chatter that Maeve had arrived into. Certain that the interruption would upset the Headmistress who had retained such control over the room until that point, Maeve was shocked to see that the woman had instead turned away from the room to speak quietly to the hooded man, who now had the full attention of all teachers but the Wardens, though their long ears twitched – they heard, even if their eyes were on the crowd instead of him.
"Who do you think that is?" Tyler propped an elbow on the table, chin held in her palm while she tapped out a rhythm on the wood. "I mean, who just strides on in to the room without getting her upset? She seems the type to not like being interrupted, doesn't she?"
Maeve shrugged, her hands rubbing gently at her grumbling stomach. "Don't know him. I don't know anyone here. I'd never been outside of the Low Canals before today. Yesterday? I'm not really sure..."
"Old Stormwind, huh? I used to have family there, or so my Da told me before the fever claimed him. That blonde one picked me up about three weeks ago feeding out of the bins behind an old tavern in Deadwood. Not exactly the best place in the world..." Tyler quirked her lips in a half grin, guilt visible in the depths of her eyes. "That's a bit south from where you were, I think. Used to be Duskwood, until the Legion ripped through and near-decimated Karazhan. The shattered towers -"
"Split and sent energy that warped the already dark woods nearby, and they were known better as Deadwood ever since." Maeve shyly smiled, giving an innocent grin. "The old baker not more than a few doors down told me about it. Or what she remembered... her mind was going, so I don't think that's really the truth, but..."
Tyler laughed, pushing hair back from her face, briefly showing the angular jaw and larger ears that she clearly spent most of her time hiding. "It's close enough. Bad rumors about that old tower. Some people say it's the old Guardian's latent magic that sucked the demons right out of the world, but I don't believe it. I don't think they do, either."
The two glanced back to the crowd of elders as they parted, returning to their seats save for the cloaked man. His swift appearance was echoed in the brisk movement as he left the stairs and strode to the door, vanishing around the bend. Behind him went Ashadel, her vivid green eyes focusing briefly on Maeve with a warm smile before she was gone as well. Maeve squeaked as Tyler nudged her with an elbow.
"Oooh, you've got her fancy. She doesn't smile like that for just anyone, you know. Old family friend?" Tyler's fingers were like weapons against her bony sides, prodding along ribs in search of ticklish skin. Uncertain about the contact, Maeve was trapped between wriggling right off the bench, and laughing.
"N-no. Well, maybe. I don't know. She knew my mother, but it's not really anything like that. Knew my father, too." She felt the flush that hit her cheeks when her mind wandered to the image of her father mercilessly engraved in her mind; panting wildly on the floor beneath the boot of a woman limned by firelight, weak and helpless. Enjoying it. Maeve shook her head hard, scrubbing the thought from her head, but Tyler wouldn't let it go.
"No? That's no chaste blush, there. But that's alright, you can keep your secrets. I'll tell you this much, though. That woman will rip your legs out from under you and make you rethink everything you ever knew about sex. You can consider yourself a king of pleasure, and she'll show you for the peasant your really are." Tyler shivered, a delightful sort of squirm that had Maeve's jaw dropping.
"You didn't. With... but she's old enough to be your mother!"
"Well, it's not like it was planned. We hit bad weather on the way to the Gate, and had to hide out in one of the mountain caves. She was curled against the side of that dragon," Tyler leaned in, voice dropping and forcing Maeve to draw closer as well, "naked. Our clothes had gotten pretty wet, so it's not like she was just laying there all inviting. Except she sort of was. I don't know, it's hard to explain. She's just so... comfortable with herself.
The fire wasn't enough, and I think the dragon knew it. Looked at me with those odd eyes, and lifted it's wing up. I figured that was about as good an invitation as I was really gonna get, so I crawled on in there. I'd been riding it for hours, so I don't know why I was so surprised that it was so warm, but it got a little hard to pay attention to that bit of information when she snuggled up against me. That woman is soft in all the right places, Maeve... and her hands. I went from just warm to utter bliss in what felt like less than a handful of seconds. Nevermind the biggest surprise." Tyler grinned devilishly. "That dragon is a male, just so you know."
Maeve's jaw dropped, but all the questions that flooded her mind were silenced as the room drowned itself in cheers, and she caught the whiff of something delicious. Her stomach gurgled happily, eyes feasting on the veritable parade of similarly dressed men and women coming through the doors with platters and bowls, goblets and decanters. It took all of her strength not to leap upon the covered platters set before her and Tyler, who grinned at the delight the quarter-elf showed.
She needed no permission to pull one of the heavy covers off the top of the platter, moaning with joy as the scent of roasted chicken invaded her nostrils. She dragged meat and potatoes onto her plate, noting only after she had nearly filled the plate that Tyler was nearly dying of laughter beside her. She shrugged, stuck her tongue out at her, and began to eat, losing herself to the richness of food that she hadn't had the pleasure of tasting in several years.
Her haze lessened as her stomach began to fill, and Tyler cautioned her to slow her eating or risk being sick and having a 'second tasting.' Despite her complaints, she slowed as she as requested, her eyes flicking along the table to finally peer at some of the others. They seemed jovial and friendly enough, talking together as if they had been friends for years. Maeve, who couldn't remember the last time she had a friend, felt a little lost. But as a stocky male draenei roared in laughter, his body swaying backwards, her eyes went wide with surprise that caught the attention of Tyler.
No more than a few places down at the opposite side of the table, two women sat together with plates of food before them. One was thin, not quite in the realm of beautiful but certainly just on the edge. The severe braid that bound her raven hair gave her a harsh appearance, though her movements were gentle when it came to the one that sat beside her. This one was quite pretty, and there were similarities in the structure of the face and eyes that made Maeve feel as though they were siblings. Where the one was thin, the second was plush and curvy, her dark hair let free to flow around her face and down a chest that swelled with heavy breasts hidden beneath the pale silk of her dress.
The thinner one lifted a cup, bringing it to the lips of her sister, who drank deep of the liquid. Some spilled, wine dripping from the corners of her lips to trickle down along the skin of her neck and between her breasts. The cup moved, and the last of the liquid was allowed to spill over her chin in a scant stream, spreading the stain of wine on silk further along her generous cleavage. The cup was set down, and the slender sister looped an arm around the shoulders of the other as the drunken twin leaned forward, accepting the grazing touch of a strawberry dripping with cream that was offered by a gnome woman leaning far over the table.
The berry dropped, sinking between the pillowed flesh of her breasts, and the pretty woman groaned, her hands lifting only to stop, halted by the manacles around her wrists and the chains that kept her from addressing the little problem of fallen food. Maeve's ears twitched at the whimper she heard, and the pleased gasps from the gnome and her elven companion, a male who gathered up another strawberry and drenched it in chocolate, allowing the thick candy to drizzle over the woman's skin before offering it to her wanting mouth.
The chains clinked as the woman lifted herself, chasing the candy-coated berry as the man teased her with it, her sister planting slender hands on the thick hips and pushing her down to sit again, her lips close to the ear of her twin, who expressed her pleasure with a roll of her head, throwing it back as her sister pushed the silken fabric off her shoulders and down her arms, baring the soft skin and pale nipples that were tight with arousal. Suitably pleased with the woman's appearance, her sister gathered up a bowl of custard and, sweeping the loose locks of hair away from her shoulder, gently tipped the bowl.
The dessert ran thickly over her skin, drawing a pleased moan from deep within the woman's chest. Her back arched, breasts lifted into the air as the sticky liquid coursed over her, cloaking her pale skin like a glove. Her dulcet moans had attracted the attention of those nearest her, and the male draenei shot the slender woman a questioning glance before lowering his head to one ripe breast, capturing the nipple and suckling roughly. He released with a surprised sound, and as the dominant twin grinned, he squeezed the soft flesh of the woman's breast, drawing gasps from the surrounding students as pearly milk dribbled from the pale nipples and coated his large hand.
He returned his attentions to the breast, sliding his tongue over skin to clean it of custard that was only replaced by the insistent pour from the twin, his rough sucking of one nipple turning the skin a deeper color. The gnome joined, crawling over the table to seat herself atop the chained woman's hands, using her own to gather one large breast and pull the supple flesh to her mouth.
"If you don't shut that mouth," Tyler muttered as the plush woman released a louder moan, her body shuddering in what was easily identifiable as the beginning throes of an orgasm as those closest to her traded her breasts between them, drenching her in her own milk, "someone's going to stick something in there that you might not be all that ready for." She smirked at the audible snap of Maeve's jaw closing, and moved to push away from the table and stand, looping an arm around one of Maeve's own. "Come on. Theresa and Tiffany can go like that for hours, and you looked half-dead when you got in here anyway."
Maeve mumbled something under her breath, standing with some difficulty from Tyler's insistent tugging, and allowed the taller woman to guide her around the table. They paused behind the woman, and Tyler reached out a finger to drag it through the layer of custard along the outside swell of one breast, and offered the digit to Maeve with a grin. A grin that was infectious, and Maeve found herself accepting the finger, not wanting to disappoint her new friend. Tyler winked, reaching down to swat the chained woman's rear before tugging Maeve along after her.
"We easily have the best rooms in the castle, personally. We're just about on the water's edge, but it's beautiful, really. Oops, not that way." Tyler pulled away from a wooden door, glancing up and down the hall. "This way, I think. Anyway, our rooms are nearly on the bottom level of the castle, just above the water's edge. Ashadel claimed the caverns, but the draenei's room is down there, too. Eaxoa." She paused to push open a door, and the corridor became ablaze with torchlight, guiding them down the otherwise dark hall. "She claimed them for one reason, and everyone else is jealous of it. All because of... these!"
Tyler pulled her into a room that smelled of bath oils, and lights blazed into life from recesses set into the walls. The room was large, the floor arranged in levels with small ramps that were forged into the stone. One every level, one or two large pools could be seen, the water within dimly glowing. Throughout the room, steam wafted on eddies of air brought in from an unknown source.
"We got the steam pools," Tyler sing-songed, pointing to an alcove in the back of the room. "There are more pools back there. This is sort of considered the public bathing area. We have some people who prefer their privacy, and the smaller pools in the back alcoves help give them their security. There's oils, and soaps, and fluffy towels, too! This way!" Maeve yelped as Tyler's hand encircled her wrist, and she was dragged down another hallway with only a short pause granted as Tyler realigned herself with their position.
Maeve's eyes traveled the hallway, spotting an opening in the wall that gifted a brief glimpse of the outside. The water of Mirror Lake stretched out, lit by the full moon that stained the stone of the balcony a pearlescent white, and movement just past the archway tugged her on a rope of curiosity. She paced forward a few steps, and spotted the slender form of the blonde Rider standing before the cloaked man, her arms stretched upwards as if to reach beneath his hood and cup his face.
The quarter-elf knew the look that flickered across Ashadel's face as the man's hands caught her wrists, quiet words traded as he lowered them down. It was a look that she was certain she had worn sometimes; the look of pain when one had just run flailing into a wall that could never be seen. A wall they had met several times before. No good at reading lips, and not willing to pry into what was clearly a private and painful moment, Maeve backed away silently, bumping the still-muttering Tyler as she did.
"Ah! This way!" The brunette fairly flew down a hallway that had been worn smooth by expert hands, sconces flaring to life to light their path with warm hues. She stopped before a wooden door set into the stone, and pulled the large ring that served to aid in the opening of the heavy wood. With it opened, she swept her hand inwards. "Welcome to my room. Well," she grinned, "our room. Go ahead."
Maeve blinked, but entered the room which was quickly lit not by torches, but by a large fire that sprouted in the fireplace against one wall. Two large four-poster beds flanked a window embedded in the stone, a few pillows tossed onto the shelf beneath the window. Books littered the floor around the window, and Maeve smiled inwardly. Heavy curtains hung from each bedframe, providing privacy if it was wished, and Maeve's inspection of the bed that she was pointed to was finalized with a timid mounting as she tried to find her way through the generous blankets and soft sheets, finally flopping onto the pillows with a groan.
"I know. Best you've ever slept on, huh?"
Maeve muttered a muffled response, providing no resistance at all as Tyler easily swept her under the blankets, tucking her in like a child – complete with the kiss on the forehead.
"I'll show you around more in the morning. You should get rest now, and then we can go to the baths before class. No rest for the wicked, as they – uhm..." Tyler smiled, running fingers through the dark golden hair now splayed over the pillow, sighing as she realized her friend was already deep in the arms of sleep. "Nice to meet you, Maeve."
Turning from the sleeping woman, Tyler hummed softly as she climbed into her own bed, closing the drapes tightly before tossing her clothes out. There was a brief rustling, and then the room fell silent. As their breathing evened out and became matched, the fire in the fireplace dimmed to a low smolder, leaving the silver light of the moon to overpower the golden hues.