Hello Everyone! Welcome to my new story! It has been quite awhile and explanations for that are given on my profile page. Starting off with a new muse in the World of Azeroth and I'm looking forward to traverse this well known Universe with you. I have already written a few chapters and the chapters will most certainly grow in length and complexity as the tale is woven and the stage is set.

All editing goes to my good friend, Lord Gryzzli, who will never know how much I appreciate the time he takes to help me and the knowledge he holds in Old World customs.


Prologue


Silvermoon, before the Scourge Invasion - Part 1

"...carry the finest silks, My Lady. You will not find better quality anywhere else."

"Yes, these are quite beautiful. Do you have it in vermilion? My daughter looks best in that colour and if she is to stand out, she must be dressed accordingly."

"We do, yet so many others will be wearing the royal colour. Perhaps another would be more to your liking? We have so many, auburn, gold, periwinkle-"

"No, no, it must be red. What do you think, Isolde? Which cut would you prefer? Isolde? Isolde?"

With a gentle touch to her arm, Isolde Bel'Tannen startled, having been looking out the window of the dressmaker's shop and watching the hustle and bustle of the people out in the square of the Bazaar.

Looking to her mother, she forced a smile and tried not to look as bored as she felt. "Whatever you think is best, Minn'da. I trust your fashion sense to guide the way."

Obviously pleased by her acquiescence and distracted by preparations of the upcoming ball to scold her for not paying attention, Isolde's mother went back to haggling with the owner of the dress shop.

A soft sigh escaped from Isolde's lips. She really had no desire to attend the upcoming ball and to be paraded around in front of Prince Kael'thas Sunstrider like a prize to be won. She found all this pageantry archaic and wished for nothing better but to break free of the chains binding her to her duty. But as she was an only child, she knew that she had little choice in the matter and that is what she found hard to bear.

The voices of her mother and the shopkeeper faded into the background once again, her gaze fixed on the scene outside the window as she tried to see something besides the future that others had planned for her.

"Isolde?"

Brought out of her reverie once again, Isolde turned to find her mother standing near an elevated dais that was surrounded by several floating mirrors. She was motioning her forward.

Stepping up onto the platform, Isolde's unusual amber eyes followed the shop keeper's practiced movements as she came towards her with a phoenix feather quill and an ornate journal in hand. A magically enchanted measuring tape held itself ready in mid-air, waiting for the commands of the one who wielded it.

With a snap of her fingers, the tailor flitted about as the measuring tape moved around her in smooth, graceful motions- along her arms, shoulders, waist and the length of her leg to her hip. The scratch of the quill against the journal pages was loud as her measurements were recorded, her mother's voice a steady stream behind her as she supervised.

"...must have a corset, but a bit of skin needs to be seen, as well. The Prince must be dazzled but I do not want her to look inappropriate..."

The shop owner paused in front of her, eyebrows creasing in frustration as Isolde's mother continued to list her demands. Glancing in the mirrors that surrounded her, she noticed two other noble women enter the shop, pausing to listen to the amount of details her mother extolled. Their obnoxious laughter rang through the shop, grating on Isolde's sensitive ears.

Closing her eyes, her thoughts began to turn inward, calm breaths filling her diaphragm as she held her body still. The voices minutely faded away, her mind delving deeper into her meditation.

Her fingers twitched slightly and a small itch started between her shoulder blades. The longer she focused, she could distinctly hear the sound of the wind whistling by the shell of her ear. 'Curious', she thought, 'how can the wind reach her here, in the middle of the shop?'

Tilting her head, she relished the sensation, a serene smile on her lips as she allowed the noise to fill her completely.


Lays the foundation

The picture for this story is actually Isolde, art that I had commissioned from the talented OxanaResh. You can find her on Twitter and Deviant art.

See you in the next chapter...