Sorry for the long delay! I wrote another whole fanfic, Opposites Attract, in the meantime! It's a nice little fluff fic, short and sweet. I already kinda miss Ozzy and Bitsy, but I've missed this fic even more!
Mythene had terrible nightmares that night. In her dream, she saw… twisting blood-red vines choking and entangling, a dozen yellow eyes upon each writhing tendril. It was accompanied by painful whispering, agonizing like nails digging at the back of her skull. Like it was trying to burrow within her mind.
She awoke suddenly with a gasp, her chest heaving. Looking around quickly, she was surprised to find the Nighthaven inn all but abandoned, excluding herself and Khail. The old tauren was snoring from the corner, occasionally snorting in his sleep.
Mythene quickly furrowed her brow. Where were Syrise and Jazax? Surely they wouldn't have left with no warning, while everyone was sleeping? She frowned upon seeing that their things were gone as well. Perhaps they had left, after all. It was painful to know that she was apparently untrusted, but little could be done of it now.
Mythene stood up slowly, latching onto her thin wool blanket and encircling herself with it. The night bore a chill, the sign that summer had truly shown its last light. Frowning again, Mythene walked silently to the mouth of the inn, careful not to wake the tauren as she passed. Her glowing white eyes made their way up towards the moon. Towards Elune.
"Mother Moon," She began quietly, voice low to not stir her companion, "I seek your guidance once again."
A beat passed as Mythene formulated the words in her head.
"My thoughts of late have been… plagued," She confessed to the night sky, "By what, I know not. But in silence, I hear it whisper. And in dreams, I see its grasp. It feels… inescapable."
Her eyes lowered, focusing on the ashen remains of Duskhaven. Only the moonwell sat untouched. As if by instinct, Mythene felt herself drawn to it. Soon she sat upon the stone, running her finger tips over the surface of the glistening blue water, watching the ripples left behind. The moonlight sparkled upon the water's surface
Mythene slowly looked down at her own reflection in the water. Her expression was dreary. Her silver hair was matted and knotted, from weeks without proper lodging nor bathing. Dirt streaked her cheeks, nearly obscuring her tattoos. Pausing a moment to beg Elune's forgiveness for her unsightly appearance, she sunk a lavender hand into the moonwell. Then she brought it up and rinsed her face with the cool water, also running the fingers of her free hand through her knotted hair.
When she finally lowered her hand away and looked upon her reflection, the image of the water had changed. It was still her, but different. Changed. Her silver hair now shown as brightly as her eyes, and her skin was as pale as fresh milk. Mythene's eyebrows shot up in surprise at the sight.
As she stared down at the water anxiously, a soft and peaceful feeling suddenly began to overtake her. She found herself soothed, like a frightened child in their mother's embrace. And then new thoughts came to her, arising from somewhere deeper within. She could not explain the reasoning, but somehow, she simply knew the words to speak then.
"I am with you," Mythene whispered reverently, "Is that what you wish to tell me, Mother Moon?"
She reached a purple hand to the water, watching the silver reflection of her hand gesture the same. Of course it did, she realized. It was no vision of the goddess herself. It was a reflection of the goddess' light within her. It was Elune's presence, yet in her own image.
"I have nothing to fear, because you are with me," Mythene smiled gently, "Thank you, I see that now. Forgive me for being so blind."
She gently touched her finger tips against the water once more, causing another ripple across the surface. And when the water settled, the image was gone. Merely Mythene's own usual reflection stared back.
But now her face was cleansed, as was her spirit within. Her expression was no longer one of dismay, either. But rather, it was one of hope.
Closing her eyes, Mythene listened for the whispers, which had plagued her ever since her encounter with Keeper Remulos. But there were no whispers any longer. Whatever taint of the Keeper's corruption had lingered upon her seemed to have withered away under Elune's light.
Though it quelled her personal worries for herself, it did not soothe her concerns for Keeper Remulos. His safety was of far greater importance than her own. And the corruption that he fought embedded far greater, and more forcefully, than the mere echo that had haunted her. Surely, then, it would be a far more difficult task to overcome such a powerful force.
Mythene knitted her brow in thought. Her mind sought to extract whatever wisdom she could from Elune's guidance. The goddess had shown to her a glimpse of her own inner light. Perhaps, then, there was a way she could share this light with Keeper Remulos?
Then it hit her, a realization like a bolt of lightning.
No, it was not that she was to share her own light. But rather remind Remulos of his own. After all, he was the grandson of Elune herself. Borne of Cenarius, the son of Malorne. Though his father and grandfather had both fallen, Mythene would not allow Remulos to follow them in death.
Standing up slowly, she realized then what she must do. She had to speak to Keeper Remulos directly, meld their minds as before. It was risky. She had nearly lost herself last time. It was terrifying, even considering returning to face those vile, corrupting roots. But Elune's light was with her, and she was not afraid. She also knew that no healing magic would help Keeper Remulos or stir him from his state. The Keeper was trapped, bound within the corruption that plagued his mind. And it seemed only she knew the way to free him. So it was inevitable.
It was true that she was no priestess, but she still had to try. For the sake of Keeper Remulos, she had to try. For the Cenarion Circle, she had to try.