Mythene stared down at herself in the reflecting pools at the base of Haidene's statue. She had spent hours at the Temple of the Moon, occupying herself with meditation and prayer all the day long. Many of the other priests and pilgrims had already retired and left for the day, as the sun was setting. It cast a comfortable last warm glow through the Temple's main archway, illuminating on the surface of the water in pinks and purples. It brought back such bittersweet nostalgia that Mythene felt her eyes begin to water.
"Mythene?" A familiar voice interrupted her thoughts, "You haven't left from this spot since dawn broke, and now the sun is setting. Are you alright, my friend?"
"Oh, Desana," Mythene said as she looked up to her friend, meeting her golden eyes, "Such heaviness weighs on my heart of late."
"Hm? What's wrong?" Desana asked with a frown, sitting down on the stone next to her, "Tell me of your troubles."
Mythene sighed wearily, bringing her hands up to rub her face.
"I feel so much at conflict with myself. So out of balance," She said as she lowered her hands again, "I know one thing, but then I feel its opposite replace it. Hatred turns to affection, devotion turns to rebellion, pride turns to regret. The ones I held closest feel the furthest, and the ones I push away draw closest of all. I feel like I'm going mad here, Desana."
Desana's gold eyes flickered over Mythene for a moment before her expression turned thoughtful.
"Is this about the troll?" She asked softly, making Mythene's eyebrows shoot up.
"No," She insisted, rather quickly, "Why would it involve him?"
Desana perked an eyebrow skeptically, and Mythene felt her cheeks begin to burn. Hastily, she looked away.
"Mythene," Desana chuckled, reaching over and grabbing her chin, "Look at yourself."
Mythene let Desana tilt her head down, so that she looked at her own reflection. Indeed, her cheeks were greatly flushed in a shade of deep purple. They turned even more so upon seeing this.
"I don't really understand much about your association with that troll," Desana said as she retracted her hand, "But it is clear it deeply affects you."
"He is my student," Mythene said coldly, "Nothing more."
"Yes well, Malfurion Stormrage is Cenarius' student," Desana quipped, "But I still think High Priestess Whisperwind would get jealous if they had blushed so much as you when discussing each other."
Mythene furrowed her brow at the uncomfortable idea, shaking it away from her thoughts lest she be scarred for life.
"Don't speak of such strange things," Mythene sighed, laying down on her back against the cool stone steps, "It disturbs me to imagine."
Desana was quiet for a moment, simply laying down beside her friend. They stared up together at the ceiling of the Temple, where various wisps flitted about amidst the ever-present pollen of Teldrassil.
"Hey, Mythene? Can I ask you something?" Desana asked, her golden eyes tracking a wisp as it flew about.
Mythene frowned, noting her tone was rather serious, a rarity for Desana.
"Hm? Yes?" Mythene asked, glancing over at her friend, "What is it?"
"This troll… this Zami. Why did you take him as your student?"
Mythene glanced aside, watching the last beams of sunlight as the sun sunk beyond the trees.
"Because I like a challenge," She mumbled, hoping Desana wouldn't pry further.
"Don't give me that," Desana scolded, elbowing Mythene's side, "I know you better than that. You would never associate yourself with trolls so glibly. Not after Sister Mystene was killed by them."
Mythene shut her eyes upon hearing her mother's name. She had tried to push the memories of her away. Whenever she allowed herself to think of her mother, it felt like heresy to her memory. Especially if she was in Zami's company.
"So what is the real reason, Mythene?" Desana continued, "No more excuses."
Mythene sighed quietly, opening her eyes and looking up to the massive statue of Haidene. It looked even larger from the floor.
"...I wish I could've met her," Mythene mumbled.
"Hm? Who?"
"Haidene," Mythene said with a slight nod towards the statue, "My great-grandmother."
"She lived thousands of years ago," Desana pointed out, "Before the War of the Ancients. Before the Kaldorei Empire, even."
"I wonder if she ever had such troubles as I," Mythene mused aloud, "Did she love? Did she cry? What did she dream of?"
"I'm sure she must've loved," Desana nodded, "How would your grandmother be born elsewise?"
"Taking a mate through obligation is not unheard of, Desana. Especially in such ancient days," Mythene reminded her.
"I suppose we should be grateful it is much less common today," Desana said before sitting up, "By the way, when are you and Daras going to be officially mated? I want to be sisters already."
"Desana…" Mythene sighed, looking away, "I don't… I really… honestly…"
Suddenly, Mythene was reminded of her conversation with her father the day prior, and she sat up quickly.
"Oh, that's right..." She groaned, covering her face with her hand, "Father was going to invite Daras over today…"
"Ah? What for?" Desana perked an eyebrow.
"I don't know," Mythene admitted sheepishly, "But I suppose I must go find out."
"Wait," Desana called as Mythene stood up, "You still haven't told me the reason."
"What reason?"
"The reason you took the troll as your student."
Mythene frowned, glancing towards the door and wondering if she could make it out before Desana caught her. Deciding that she could not, she reluctantly turned back to face her friend.
"You won't believe me," She said first, hoping to dissuade her.
"Try me," Desana retorted, crossing her arms.
"You'll be disappointed."
"Let me decide that."
"It really isn't all that interestin-"
"Mythene," Desana huffed, "Just tell me already, before you're late to meet Daras."
Mythene rolled her eyes. As if that was something she wanted to prevent. She glanced back at Desana, who was staring her down impatiently. Sighing, Mythene finally accepted her defeat and pinched the bridge of her nose.
"I, um…" She began, clearing her throat awkwardly, "I had a dream. Of him."
"A dream?" Desana perked an eyebrow, "Like a prophecy or-"
"No," Mythene furrowed her brow, lowering her hand, "Just… a dream. The night before we first crossed paths."
"What happened in the dream?"
"I was drowning," Mythene recalled grimly, "I couldn't breathe, and I couldn't move. I knew I was going to die and there was nothing I could do. I felt so helpless…"
Mythene shut her eyes, the memory playing vividly in her mind.
"But then I… noticed someone. They were looking at me above the surface of the water. Someone with these… eyes. One of gold, and one of green. I couldn't see anything else about their face, but I remember those eyes so vividly…"
Mythene furrowed her brow, remembering the feeling of her lungs burning from the lack of air. It had happened for real, she reminded herself, albeit differently. Back in Darkshore, in those cages. Her cheeks began to flush when she recalled something else about back then, and her hand instinctively curled against her pant leg.
"Was that all?" Desana asked, wondering if Mythene was finished, but she shook her head.
"I couldn't see their face, but I did see their hand. It was most certainly a troll's hand. They reached into the water to… save me. I woke up as soon as they touched the water, though. But then when I saw him in person later that day, our eyes met and I recognized him at once. It's rather hard to explain, really..."
Mythene opened her eyes, feeling a little exposed from revealing something she'd kept so close to the vest for so long. She glanced over at Desana and immediately blushed, seeing the knowing way Desana was smiling at her.
"So, you'll need to convince me if I'm wrong," Desana began, "But am I correct in saying that he is your… dream man?"
Mythene stared at her friend flatly, not sure whether to facepalm or push her into the reflecting pools. But instead, to her own surprise, she laughed.
