Disclaimer:I do not own Warcraft or its sequels. Blizzard does.
Massive thanks to my beta dharak!
Chapter published 9/12/12
Amanthe
I gritted my teeth in pain. This was never easy.
Come on, Amanthe. Mind over matter. Discipline.
Discipline training was always worth it in the end, of course. It was that training that allowed me to form shields out of the Light, for instance. To discipline myself enough to control the power of the Light as it flows through me into more complex spells than simple healing. But this!
"Focus, Amanthe," came someone's voice in the distance. "Focus."
I'm trying! I shouted mentally. The Light burned in my veins, molten fire enveloping my body. I growled, forming the spell with pain-staking slowness. At last, I thought it was done and, still enduring the agony of holding onto the Light for too long, cast the spell.
I sighed in relief as my body relaxed. A shell of Holy Light, large enough for maybe a dozen to crowd under it, opened up on the Cathedral's floor. I smiled, but at that moment the barrier flickered, then shattered like glass.
I growled in aggravation. So close!
From near the walls of the small room I trained in, my mentor clucked his tongue. "Almost got it. Your barrier ran out of energy too soon."
"Most of the Light ran out of me by the time you said I could cast the spell," I pointed out.
"And why did you let it? Hold on to it tighter next time." Before I could begin drawing on my empty mana-pool, Jason stopped me, closing the distance in a heartbeat and resting a hand on my right shoulder. "I think that's quite enough. Besides, your service for today is over." Internally, I collapsed in relief. Finally.
In the real world, I nodded. "Thank you."
Jason was a fairly handsome man, at least by my standards. He had a strong jawline and sharp nose. His left eye was a bright sky-blue, but his right eye was a dark brown with a ring of light brown in the middle of the iris. He wasn't exactly tan, but by no means was he pale. His hair was black and neatly trimmed around his head. The most noticeable feature about him, though, was how incredibly skinny he was. Not so much as to be unhealthy, but enough for his hands to be bony and his ribs able to show through his skin. Whenever anyone asked him why he was like that, he just said he has a very small appetite. He was, like me, dressed in the robes of the Cathedral of the Light, white with light blue, and golden trimming around the neck and wrists.
"Oh, and just a heads up. Mrs. Manner's school group is going to be putting on a pageant for the Rise of the Lich King here in a months, and you'll probably see them practicing around here. You might be asked to help them now and again. They'll be here for practice tomorrow."
"Mrs. Manner's kids?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah, why?"
"I babysit one of her students, Anna Lockliss. Huh, it's a small world, isn't it?"
"Hmm, indeed. Go get yourself something to drink, you're dehydrated."
"Alright. See you on Sunday," I said, leaving the small enclosed room I had trained in. A few winding corridors later, and I emerged into the main hall of the Cathedral of Light.
The walls stretched up over fifteen metes. Blue banners hung from the ceiling in between pillars. The walls, ceiling, and floor were all constructed out of white marble, and between the pillars separating the sides of the room from the central walkway were several candle-racks, metal rods reaching up that held five gently burning candles at their tops.
The central pathway was divided into a few sections. In the middle was a solid line of white squares, stretching up to the end of the room and to the entrance, cracked and chipped from over a century of use. To its right and left was a much smaller line of alternating white and gray stones which, while also worn down from not enough repairs, were in far better condition. And finally, further out from this checkerboard line were two rows of large blue tiles, each with one white diamond tile within. The end of the main hall, opposite from the minuscule entrance doorway, was a wide staircase covered in a blue carpet that went up to an altar. The altar was a simple wooden desk covered in hundreds of tomes dedicated to uncovering the truth through the Light. Those tomes specifically were for the Archbishop to distribute at their discretion, but the other books, hidden away in mammoth libraries elsewhere in the Cathedral, were open to all.
And of course, staring down at the altar were the massive stained glass windows. They towered above the altar, colored light flowing in from Stormwind in vibrant shades of amber, cobalt and emerald. The light shone down on the marble, making particles of dust glisten in the light.
I rolled my shoulders as I stepped into the main hallway, trying to relieve some of the tension that holding onto my magic for fucking half an hour caused. After that I cracked my neck, then my wrists, and flexed my legs. Damn but discipline training was awful. Good thing I didn't have it for another two weeks.
But I liked it in the Cathedral. Here was a place untouched by the turmoils of the outside world. Here, the politics of the nobles couldn't get in, the very ground itself repelled evil beings. It had been concentrated after the issue with the Twilight Father many years ago, and still was to this day. Here was a safe haven, a place where I could come and be accepted by my fellow priests, I could train in the spells I'd been using for longer than any other. To say this place held nostalgic memories for me would be an understatement.
First joining the Cathedral as a priestess. The first time I learned how to heal someone, even if I only managed to mend a paper cut. The doubt after my first discipline class, and feeling that doubt wash away when I shielded myself with the Light for the first time. Getting approached by a shadow priestess outside the Cathedral and asking if I wanted additional training, which they wouldn't give me. Frying a kobold's mind with my thoughts...
I wiped away a tear. I'm getting sentimental in my old age. Huh.
I hurried on past the watchful eyes of the paladins on guard, even though there was never anything to guard against, and headed up a staircase. The stairs went upwards in a spiral, with me passing a few floors, before reaching my destination.
It was a balcony, looking out over Stormwind, from near the top of the Cathedral. The balcony itself wasn't very large, but it was long. Flower pots lined the walls of the Cathedral, from which blossomed Peacebloom, small bushes of Silverleaf, and a variety of other flowers I couldn't even begin to identify, nearly spilling over the edges of their pots there were so many. Green vines hung over the edges of the row of white flower pots, lightly touching the sand-textured white stone floor. A rail was all that kept me from falling over the edge. The rail was intricately designed, with white posts decorated with librams and hammers, the marble rods in between twisted to resemble a spiral.
I took a deep breath, smelling the fresh scent of pollen permeating the air. I liked it up here. The air so high up was very clean, none of the smog from the Dwarven District or the dust from anywhere in Stormwind could get up here.
This was the perfect spot for meditating. It wasn't uncommon to see several people up here, just sitting and relaxing. Indeed, to my left and right there was a paladin dwarf and human respectively, identifiable from the golden armor they wore, instead of robes. I payed them no attention, instead sitting down in between them, looking out over Stormwind. I winced as my muscles protested the motion of sitting.
I closed my eyes and let my aching body relax. I relaxed my breathing, and focused on what I could feel through my sensed. Through my sense of sight, I couldn't see much. Just the endless writhing of colors on the back of my eyelids, colors that managed to be vibrant and dull at once, bright and dark together, forever twisting and flowing into shapes that sometimes formed intricate patterns, or people, or scenes, or just random jumbles of lines. Through my sense of touch I could sense the gentle caresses of wind upon my skin, my clothes touching my skin, my hair falling around my face. Through my sense of smell I could scent out the fresh mountain air, courtesy of the mountains Stormwind was built into, of the flowers behind me, the somewhat salty smell of the stone.
Through my sense of hearing I could hear so much. The gentle breathing of myself and the two paladins meditating. The whistling of the wind through the Cathedral of the Light's many spires, rustling the leaves of the flowers. The faint roar of noise flowing up to me from Stormwind far below, the combined sound of thousands of civilians milling about, selling and buying, chatting and quizzing. Pets mewing and barking, forges heating, hammers shaping. All of that and more, condensed into one single dull thrum of noise.
My muscles relaxed, and I fell into a state of meditation, gently swaying where I sat. From here, I reached within me, gently to avoid rousing myself. I touched upon my magic and, through my mana, called upon the Light. Behind my eyes the swirls of random color all fell to a central point, before glowing with a soothing yellow light. Warmth surged up my fingertips, sending gentle shivers down my spine. I welcomed the feeling, and sent my question towards the bright orb of light.
What is the Legion planning?
An onslaught of thoughts and feelings raced at me, catching me unprepared. But with how much I doubted to be able to glean much, I only managed to decipher a few of them. How ironic. My doubt of gaining answers through the Light made me unable to do so, fueling my doubt. Quite a cycle.
The thoughts I got were only generalized feelings. Loss, but who loses what? Fear, but who fears what? Ingenuity, but whose? Those were the questions. I talked myself through it, a tidal wave of information still pressing against my skull. If I could get this much through the Light, who's to say I can't get even more information?
At that moment, pictures came to me, but they were muddled and unclear, as if somebody had dumped them into a river, rubbed mud on it, rinsed it off, and then plunged it under a river before asking me to see it. A beam of yellow cutting through black. A face, but of what race and gender? A glowing green orb suspended in a dark void, against a blazing blue light.
Words. I need words. I knew there were words in the surging information around me, but my doubt held me back. I'd seen Aruen glean incredible insights through the Light. Why couldn't I do that?
Words began to trickle in. Not the well-explained essay that I knew the Light had given me, but words nonetheless. They were mumbled in a deep voice, echoing as if someone spoke them to me from the other side of a vast cave.
Lost... evil... tricked... return... kind... love... pain... sorrow...
I mentally frowned, my body still far too relaxed to move. No, that wasn't enough. It was too general. I needed something more specific. Why couldn't I get anything more specific? This was important!
I tried to open my mind to the rush of information, but my frustration did just the opposite. I lost the words and pictures, the feelings soon after. Inside my head I shouted in annoyance, and the glow of the Light vanished without a trace.
I opened my eyes. I was alone now, the two men having left. Everything was the same, except I'd lost feeling in my limbs. I began slowly moving my fingers and toes to get feeling back into them, and after two or so minutes I had begun walking back down the staircase, slowly from the exhaustion of using my magic in the meditation.
Nothing. The information I got from meditating amounted to nothing. It was all too cloudy and vague. The pictures could have been anything, the thoughts and feelings were meaningless outside of context. I stormed down the stairs, now in a worse mood than when I'd gone up, not to mention that everything hurt again. I forced myself to take deep breaths. Easy, Amanthe. Getting mad will just make meditation harder in the future. Calm, deep breaths. That's it. Deep breaths.
I walked out of the Cathedral of the Light in silence, and made a beeline for home. Once there, after changing into my standard day-to-day clothes (A white blouse with green pants today) I searched for the specific tome I had. I let twilight fire crawl over my body, slimy and cold, before it collapsed around me and pulled me into the twilight realm with a pop. I held my hands out and laced my fingers together, cracking them, before heading over to the table holding my Puzzle box. Only, instead of the box, there was a tome sitting there.
The tome was actually a journal. It wasn't exactly a heavy book, but by no means was it thin. The cover was an argyle pattern of bright yellow crystals against indigo. I opened it up to where a simple pencil held it open, and lifted them both up. Time for some observing.
Normally inanimate objects existed in both the physical and twilight realms at once. But with a little magical trickery, I could make the twilight realm 'think' the substances making up the pencil and books were still in their natural, living forms, so it would only be in one at a time. Books had once been made of living things. The leather for their covers and bindings, and the trees for their parchment. The wooden pencils from trees, their erasers from soy. The actual graphite of the pencil was tricky. It was not made of anything living, it just was. So it would appear to be a floating core of graphite, and graphite scribblings in mid-air. Scribblings somebody could read.
Which was the reason I had bought charcoal pencils.
I walked out of my house and began to observe Stormwind through the twilight realm. First, Old Town. Not much showed up in Old Town, however there was a bit of a teal glow in a back alley. Arcane corruption, surrounding a little vial on the ground. It was filled with a frothing blue liquid, the heavy smoke billowing out of it sinking to the ground, sending shadows and mist rippling away from it. I frowned, and called holy fire down upon it, annihilating the offending vial. I opened my book to the current date, May the Fifth, and wrote into it the presence of an Arcanely Corrupt vial in Old Town. I closed the book. The azure glow was already fading, and I stuck around until it was completely gone before checking to see if there were any hints at all as to who had left this here. None. I recorded that as well.
Old Town had nothing more, and the Trade District was clean. As was Stormwind Keep, thank the Light. I had a false alarm of demonic corruption in the Dwarven district, but it turned out to just be a group of glowing embers, their red glow cutting through the gloom of the twilight realm like a knife. Cathedral Square was, as fucking always, completely clean. There wasn't even any mist there in the twilight realm, which is saying something. I went around Stormwind, writing in my book which regions were clean, and which weren't. I found the second and final source of corruption in the Mage Quarter, in a little tavern called the Slaughtered Lamb.
Sitting at the bar, infront of a bottle of what appeared to be whiskey, was a person-sized cloud of black mist. I raised an eyebrow. Void corruption? That was rare. Lucky it was also the weakest form of corruption. The bottle floated into the air and tilted, as did many others, and the alcoholic beverage flowed out of it into the black fog, where it vanished upon presumably touching the person's tongue. It was a good thing the Slaughtered Lamb's warlocks had no demonic corruption. Warlocks were so, so susceptible to it. I wrote in the documentation of Void corruption, and came up with a plan.
I walked out of the Slaughtered Lamb, found a secluded corner where nobody was likely to be watching, and placed down my stuff. Then I pulled myself out of the twilight realm.
I walked into the Slaughtered Lamb and took in the occupants. A bartender, a few customers with hoods over their faces. Unimportant. I zeroed in on the one that was at the location of the void corruption and strode in. A few eyes turned to me, but nobody said anything. I just approached the high elf woman and pointed at her.
"You."
She looked at me from under her hood with cold, empty blue eyes. "Yes, human?" she asked quietly.
One of the others, a man of some race (I couldn't tell from the hood) spoke before I could. "Tch, what are you even doing here? This isn't the place for your kind, priest. Turn around and just go. We don't bother you, do we?" If I hadn't known better, I'd have thought he was corrupt. But I had seen through the twilight realm, so he must just be an ass.
I turned my best glare on him. "This is actually important." I turned back to the woman. "You're corrupt." All activity in the tavern ceased. The bartender and the customers looked at me like I'd just said I'm in love with Archimonde.
Finally she frowned. "Am I now?"
I nodded. "Yes, you are. Void corruption, to be precise. I could feel it from all the way outside. You should really get that checked out, you know. Don't want it getting worse. If you want, I can burn most of it off right now."
An emotionless grunt. "Fine. I have been feeling a bit dull lately."
"Hold on!" said the same warlock. "We would know if she was corrupted!" He pointed to the far end of the tavern, to a doorway that led down. Right above the doorway was a dark red rune burned into the walls. "That ward warns us of stuff like that!"
I looked at him and clucked my tongue, already calling upon the Light to illuminate my hands. "Well then in that case, you need to place a new ward." I turned back to the high elf, who watched me with a bored expression, and cast the spell.
She let out one cry of pain as a blinding flash of holy energy enveloped her. I threw myself away from a shadow bolt, but before the fight could escalate, she spoke up. "Wait, wait." She flexed her fingers, some emotion bleeding back into her voice. "I... it feels strange. I actually feel angry at you. I haven't felt angry in days." She looked at me. "I guess I was corrupted. How strange. But, I guess, thank you for helping me."
"You're not done yet," I said. "You weren't very corrupted, but I can't get it all on my own. You'll need to get help from other people to remove the remaining corruption. And I'd advise you to stay away from voidwalkers."
One of the warlocks snickered. "Who are you, a doctor?"
Ignoring him, I continued. "Do you know how you may have been corrupted?"
She thought about it for a moment. "I learned how to summon my voidwalker not too long ago. When I had to subdue it to bind it to me, it must've corrupted me. I had a hard time beating it, so it makes sense."
I nodded. "Alright. Thank you for your time, farewell." I left the Slaughtered Lamb and returned to where I'd placed my book. I sunk into the twilight realm and picked up my stuff, pausing for a moment to write in the entry of the void corruption, its cause, severity, etc. Once done, I closed the book and continued on my way, stopping into the mages' tower, then the Stockades, and finally went back home. By that point the sun was setting below the horizon, my stomach growled, and I was thirsty.
Two entries of corruption, both minor. More than what usually occurred in Stormwind, but still well within the realm of normality. I placed the book and pencil back on the table and pulled myself out of the twilight realm. I grabbed something to eat and drink, downed them quickly, and returned upstairs to my room.
I collapsed back on my bed, letting my body relax after a long day of discipline training, meditation, and corruption tracking. Laying there, I activated the link, the familiar pressure behind my ears coming into existence.
'Hey, Selriona. You awake?'
'One moment!' she shouted over the telepathic link. I cocked an eyebrow, but waited. After a minute, she began speaking to me. 'Alright, sorry about that. I just found a cultist camp.'
'Ah, I see. What were they doing?'
'Sacrificing one Red drake, a Blue whelp, and a few sheep to the Old Gods.'
'How did they even - nevermind! Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that everything in Stormwind is good. There was a bit of arcane corruption via a flask, and I destroyed it. A highborne warlock had some void corruption, and I brought it to her attention and burned off, I'd say half of it. She wasn't very corrupt, so she'll have enough common sense to have the rest of the corruption purged. Of course, I'll still keep an eye on her.'
'A corrupted flask? Any sign of who put it there?'
I resisted the urge to shake my head. 'Not a thing. And there wasn't any other arcane corruption in Stormwind, so I assume whoever put it there is gone now.'
'Hmm, good to know. I'll portal back to Grim Batol and put it in The Records.' The Records were basically the collected information of the past century of the Twilight Flight carrying out their charge, packed into multiple tomes back in Grim Batol that the dragons sometimes used to look for patterns and predict where something might happen. Anticipating rather than just reacting.
'Alright. Is there anything else I should be aware of?'
'Well, the cultist camp I just destroyed was all the way over in the Ghostlands, so not them. However, I did hear that the Burning Legion tried to kill some priests and paladins in Silvermoon City.'
I raised an eyebrow. 'They did? Wait, specify 'tried'.'
'One of our drakes there stopped them. They say it didn't seem like the demons were really trying.'
'Huh. How long ago was this?'
'I learned about it just now, and it happened two days ago.'
'You think this might have anything to do with the magic amplifier?' I asked.
'I don't know. It's a little strange that the Legion would try to go right into Silvermoon to do something like this, but it's no cause for alarm... yet.'
'Hmm, key word yet.'
'So, how's Stormwind?' she asked.
'It's great. It feels so good to be back home, you know?'
'Yeah, guessing its kinda like how I feel going back to Grim Batol.'
'Probably. So many things have changed, here, though. I mean, we didn't even know there were Pandaren until a few years ago when they arrived. Not to mention how few people there are here. Stormwind used to be packed, but now...'
'It's the war with the Horde, it wears down both sides.'
'I know, but its weird, you know? Whatever's going to happen with the Alliance and the Horde, they'll probably finish their battles soon. Either with truce, or by one standing on the smoldering ruins of the other.'
'Hmm, that's the spirit,' she grunted through the link.
'So, what's it like up in the Ghostlands?' I asked, changing the subject.
'I swear, this place is so dreary! I'm almost sleeping as much as you.'
'I don't know if I should be offended by that.'
'It's dark, and it's miserable. I can't wait until Dementliona switches posts with me.'
I sighed into the link. 'How did Dementliona get such a good post anyhow? I mean, really? Mulgore? The region in Azeroth with by far and large the best weather, scenery, everything?'
'Right place, right time,' came her curt, and injured, response. 'So, anything else you wanted to tell me?'
'Well no. But now that you mention it, I've been meaning to ask. How're relations with the other Flights?'
'They... could be worse,' was all she said.
Those four words spoke volumes. 'It's been over a hundred years. You'd think they'd learn to trust us by now.'
'Amanthe, it's only been a hundred years.'
'Only been - oh, right. Dragons, see time different. Got it.'
'At least the Bronze trust us. They see the future, so they know we won't turn on them. At least, I don't think we will. Can't imagine why we would, after things have gotten so much better.'
We continued to just talk for a good half an hour, discussing various events in each other's daily lives. As time passed I found it harder and harder to keep myself awake, until I rolled over and blew out the candle giving my room light, bade Selriona good night, and went to sleep.
The very next day, I was again training at the Cathedral of the Light. The very moment I entered the main hall, Jason stopped me.
"Amanthe, I've been looking for you."
I raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"Yeah. Remember how I told you that Mrs. Manner would be bringer her students here to practice for their pageant? Well, they need some people to help them out. I figured, since you know one of the kids, you'd be perfect for the job."
I shifted my weight on my feet. "Where are they?" I asked.
"You know the main library? The chamber on the other side from it."
I nodded. "Thank you, Jason." After curtsying to him, I departed. I wasted no time in finding the corridor leading towards the library, which took my around ten minutes.
The main library was the largest collection of information in the entirety of Stormwind. Its shelves formed a labyrinth, filled with tomes in every language from Orcish to Gnomish to even some Draconic books. The tomes collected dust when they weren't being read, and many of them indeed never were. The white marble room appeared to be filled with cracks, but in fact that was the black-and-white coloration of the marble itself. That's not to say there weren't a few cobweb strands in the upper corners where it was hard to reach them, and weren't cleaned quite as often as the rest of the library.
My destination was, as Jason had said, on the exact opposite of the hallway that branched off into the library. That room in particular was the portion of the Cathedral where outside groups went whenever they needed an extended stay in the Cathedral, such as Mrs. Manner and her students. The doors I opened to enter were impressive. Large, wooden, double doors with heavy iron knockers on the outside. They smelled old, and I knew they were the same exact doors they had been since I first stepped foot in this place nearly a hundred and fifty years ago. I knew that by virtue of the vaguely heart-shaped burn above the right knocker. It was a long room, with a stained glass portrait on the back wall of the sun shining down on rolling green fields with wispy white clouds dotting the sky. The room's near and far walls were pentagons, rectangles with triangles placed on top of them like a young child's drawing of a house.
The sides were cut off by rows of pillars stretching to the roof, separating the area into three different parts; the central area, and two sides. The floor of the side areas were a sky blue, which gradually faded to white as you moved towards the center. The pillars weren't smooth cylinders either, but had many dozens of vertical lines stretching up them. A dozen pillars on each side, however, the second on the left had a fist-sized chunk missing from its side, revealing the cold marble beneath in its most natural, un-cut form. Lanterns hung from the walls, providing light.
The room itself was, by itself, bare. No shelves to hold holy relics. No ancient tomes of historical events that I'd been alive to witness. There were, however, quite a few people standing in this room, most of them children. Around a dozen six year old kids were talking excitedly with each other, clustered around the far end of the room's middle. Their chatter raised a slight din in the room, echoing off the walls. I spotted Anna, the little girl talking animatedly with another boy with blonde hair and a beatific smile. She didn't notice me as I stepped in the room, closing the massive doors behind me as quietly as I could.
Mrs. Manner stuck out from the children like a sore thumb. She wore a black suit, typical of teachers these days, creased at several points with a light tear at the right shoulder. Her school jeans were a rich blue, like the ocean on a clear day. Her olive skin was dotted in more than one places with black marks, clearly pen marks. She was currently bending down to help settle a dispute between a young girl and a boy, leaving her back to me.
"Christina, I know you want to be Arthas, but Arthas was a boy. You can be Jaina if you want." The red-haired girl pouted, while the black haired boy stuck out his tongue at her. "Alex, be nice." He frowned, but grumbled out a 'Yes Mrs. Manner' and went back to a group of three handling all sorts of colored paper and wooden swords.
"Mrs. Manner?" I asked, making her whirl around with a start. One or two black pen marks were around her eyebrows, which themselves were above her two different colored eyes; her left eye was green, her right eye was brown with a silvery ring in the middle of the iris. "Hello, I'm with the Cathedral, I'm a priestess here. I was wondering if you needed any help with anything?"
She gasped, bringing a hand up to her mouth. She shook her head forcefully, sending her dark brown hair flying. "Oh, no no no, I can't ask you to do that!"
"Actually, my mentor told me to come here, see if I could help." I turned to look at Anna, still unaware of my presence. "And I actually know one of your girls here."
"Oh you do?" she asked excitedly. "Small world, isn't it?" She tapped her foot on the ground and placed a bent finger to her lips. "Well, now that I think about it, I could use some help organizing the kids into roles."
"I saw," I said while nodding. "Christina wanted to be Arthas," I said, smiling.
"Ah, so you know Christina?"
I shook my head. "Actually, no, I overheard you talking to her. I actually know - "
"Manthy!" I turned around to scoop Anna up in a hug. "Hi!"
I set her down, smiling. "Hi, Anna! How's school?"
"Um, good! Guess who I get to be!" she said, her voice brimming with joy. My family.
I tilted my head. "Hmm... I give up. Who?"
She jumped up and down, smiling. "I get to be Sylvanas!"
"That's great" I said with genuine enthusiasm. Still, it made me a bit sad. This constant war with the Horde, stopping only every now and then when both sides depleted their military numbers, forced people to grow up too fast. Even those who hadn't lost anyone, like Anna, knew much more about death than someone of their age should. Why else would six year olds be putting on a play about Arthas Menethil's... episode?
Mrs. Manner smiled at me. "You know Anna, then?" she asked.
I nodded. "Yes, I babysit her while her parents work at the Dwarven District on Fridays. The rest of the time, you know, Sunday through Thursday, she come to school, so..." I trailed off.
"Oh, so. As I was saying, I could use help organizing the children into their respective roles. Um, Connor and Griffin are arguing on who gets to be Muradin. Think you could go help them out?" she asked politely, her eyes flickering over to one of the pillars.
I looked over to where her eyes had gone and saw two figures standing behind it, standing directly in front of a lantern so that the light emanating from it made it impossible to distinguish their features. "Yeah, of course. I'll go help them right now."
The school teacher clapped her hands together. "Oh, thank you so much, um..."
"Amanthe," I answered.
She threw her head back, mouth wide open. "Aaah, so that's why Anna called you Manthy."
Without further conversation, I walked over to the two boys talking - and probably arguing, if what Mrs. Manner said was true - behind the pillar. One of them was red-haired with blue eyes, the other black haired with green eyes.
"No! I wanna be Muradin!"
"No! Me!" the one with black hair protested.
"No! Mrs. Manner said I get to be Muradin!"
"No she didn't! Liar!"
"Yuh-huh!"
"Uh-uh!"
They pressed their noses together. "Yuh-huh!"
"Uh-uh!"
"Alright boys," I said, making them snap their heads around to me. "Calm down. Let's work this out."
"Who are you?" asked the red-haired boy.
I crossed my arms, then uncrossed them and knelt to their level. "I'm Amanthe, I'm a priestess here at the Cathedral. Your teacher told me to help you two decide who's going to be Muradin."
Both shouted at once, "I'm gonna be Muradin! No, me! Stop copying me!" They glared at each other and growled again, acting more like animals than young boys - nevermind.
"Boys, boys. Settle down. Now, Muradin Bronzebeard had, well, a bronze beard. I pointed to the boy with red hair and guessed. "Griffin's hair is more of that color." They didn't correct me, so I assumed I got it right. "Sorry, Connor. But Griffin's the better Muradin."
Both of them made noises at once.
"Aww!"
"Yeah!"
I smiled as they went to go help Mrs. Manner with coming up with props to use. I smiled. I'd forgotten how good it feels, just being a priestess. Not the first Twilight Dragonsworn, or the oldest member of said Flight.
Wonder how long that'll last.
ARGBLGARGL! I FUCKING HATE SCHOOL!
This chapter should have been done earlier, but each time I come home from school I flop on my bed and I'm just like 'fuck writing'. And it's only gonna get worse when I make my way to college. *whimpers*
Review, let me know what you think.