Whenever Anita was sad, worried, or angry there was one person she could count on who would listen, then speak. It was her Nathan. At the northeast side of Stormwind sat a park. The park was big and beautiful, same as her. There was a waterfall that snaked its way down the mountain looming over the city. This was perfect in no ways which can be described. The water was always moving, seeking its way towards the sea. The clerks working never had to worry of still water stinking the park and it always looked fresh.
In fact, the children of the city would routinely drink from the stream. At first it caused horrible bowls and various flu symptoms, but after the parents assembled and complained, the city officials fixed the problem, but that was long ago. Now the water was perfectly drinkable.
Anita stared at the top of the waterful lifting her head up. "How do you think they purify the stream Nathan?" He threw a broken twig into the fast moving stream "the same way your music heals." "That's not funny Nathon, not after last night."
He broke another twig "I don't know how they do it. I'm sure it's some sort of magic."
He then massaged his face with both hands. The boy was worried and failed at concealing it.
"I don't know Anita, that is too weird, I don't even think you should go to Matilda. She's probably going to find out today, or maybe even by the time we return. Best she sees it firsthand and gets the shock rather than you telling her."
Both sat looking over the park. The birds were singing; one of them was cleaning itself in a puddle, showing off to a colorful male behind her. School had been released and there was a group of kids running around in the freshly cut grass. A tree provided the kids with a looming shadow, cutting off the penetrating sun.
"It is amazing how the young ones can have so much fun, while us grown ups are terrified of this plague." Nathan nodded in agreement while watching one of the bigger kids try to team up on the smaller but failed, then all laughed including him. Was a wonderful sight.
"I heard far up north the dwarves have requested help, apparently wisps were spotted in the Wetlands, not undead but something else." She shook her head in distress at his statement "it is so much now, that bastard could come back at any moment and we wouldn't even be prepared."
"The unknowing, the dread, the 'what if', and the worry is worse than fighting The Jailure himself" Nathan quoted.
"That is true, that is why he hasn't returned yet, because he doesn't need to." Both pondered their wisdom with the wonderful entertainment down below. The rascals never noticed the two of them sitting there.
"We best get going, wouldn't want mother Michelle waiting for us to eat" groaned Anita. Nathan's knees popped as he stood. "You can say that again. I am hungry."
During their eating, there were only a few students, the majority of the children and young adults had left to Northshire abbey, in the never-ending war on helping the demented. Anita couldn't focus on eating, for behind her she heard Matilda yelling at the guards outside. It was easy for the pianist to guess what the fat-woman was yelling at them for.
The kitchen door received the mother's anger, the kids' forks stopped clanging, but none looked at her. Any larger and the senior mother would have trouble entering through the kitchen door, originally made for small nuns. "I assume you know nothing Anita." The woman's eyes were heavily gazing at the girl. Yet Anita combated the gaze by stirring her soup. She wagged her head "no, why after all these years would they come back." Her hope increased at the clever response and Matilda bought the lie. "Nevertheless little girl, you will play for the man." Anita stood up brisquelly "OR WHAT!" Matilda rocked her large hip and shook a broken finger at her "you don't talk to me that way little girl. You can live on the street if you so wish." The girl left, not in sadness but in rage not wanting to say something stupid.
The Cathedral looked spotless as she was there seven years ago. She had ventured inside a few times only to get a peak. The room was getting very stuffy and it mostly brought back bad memories. But now, there was not one speck of dust on the pianos keys, nor were there on the Elven harp
She scraped her hand across the porcelain key then licked her finger. Not an ounce of dust. She wondered if someone came by in the morning. She sat on the chair and wondered who would do this and who was mysterious around the primicence, but she could think of no-one. There was the nightly guard patrolling around Stormwind, but they seemed too boring and somewhat dumb. They were also large and loud. She knew the mothers for too long, and all of them were here before she was born. No, it had to be someone long ago that had lingered for seven years. But why, why, why.
"It wasn't me girl." Her heart pounced across the keyboard and she darted her eyes towards the front pue. A grizzled man in a thick woolen cloak looked up and smiled. "There would have been more hair on the instrument. And I am not very good at cleaning." He laughed, then cleared himself up. "I am sorry to scare you, most people are terrified of me."
Anita stood and bowed "I am sorry lord Greymane, I don't mean to judge you but…" He stood, his face looked more sullen than before. And no one knows where the man sleeps. "Word spreads quickly, especially after something like this. I came to see this spotless room for myself. And I have something to show you." He walked up the three steps onto the stage then motioned his behemoth hand towards the piano. "May I, no one knows this." She seemed dumbstruck but didn't know how to respond, so she nodded. The old man tilted his head forward slowly in tremendous respect. "Don't worry, I brought my old gloves." He pulled out white looking crystal clean gloves. Anita had seen these types of gloves before, but this man wearing them? No, no one would believe her.
But then he played.
The girl got goosebumps, as she listened to the old man, yet graceful and smooth with the instrument. His hands were massive and hairy, allowing over fifteen key span. Yet, he touched the keys softly. All of his emotion from the past transferred into the piano, all she could do was sit and wonder. "So this is how beautiful it is to hear me play" Anita thought. She had always received wonderful, glamorous compliments, but there was a sense of doubt in them. But now, hearing a professional for the first time, she knew the words of her listeners were true.
She wished it would never end, but it did. The final cords were pressed with muscular tendons. He tilted his head and shoulders forward as to smash the ending. What was left was magical. He paused a few seconds before he stood and bowed at the young girl. There was a soft clap in the pews.
"I didn't know you could play King Greymane." Said Velen as he stood to give appreciation. The king's composure changed into embarrassment. "I used to play long ago...before the world turned mad."
"You should have never quit, this skill is a seal, a part of you. There is no better way to relieve anger or sadness than with a tool that does not judge, yet encourages more emotion."
Greymane was flabbergasted with the random wisdom "did you create that saying right here?"
"Hah! no I did not, another person did. She was…" Yellen's face turned to sorrow. "No matter, I won't get into that, I came to hear Anita play."
Greymane took off his white gloves in a 'finishing effect' transferring one skilled musician to another. "You are the best musician I have ever heard Anita, and that means a lot coming from a former king. I used to go far and wide to hear people play. But, I have never heard that thing." He said mockingly pointing at the harp.
"Now, now Greymane, it is a high-elf instrument, but that does not mean it deserves ridicule. It is also a beautiful instrument. Anita, have you used it before?" She was sitting on a seat higher than her, clearly made for tall elves. Her legs dangled over the floor. She stroked a string on the harp "not in front of people, I tried it a few times before…" She grew teary eyed.
Yellen placed a hand on her shoulder, his hand no longer could completely cover her shoulder bone. "It is okay to play, it is just I that will listen, if anything is amiss I will hear it." He glanced over at Greymane with a concerned look "are you sure you want to stay, I am not sure of this magic." He laughed "I will be surprised if any sort of new magic can penetrate my thick skin. But, I will sit near the main entrance." He winked at her knowing she probably didn't want to take the chance if he did rage.
Yellen motioned at the piano chair "may I? I would like to hear the harp first." From his request, Anita could tell there was a reason behind his prompting. So she heeded his words and began to string.
Greymane was in the second back row and immediately shivered at the sounds. He had never heard a type of melody like this before, nor the weird sounds. And he threw all his prejudice against the elves and respected their art.
Yellen sat, seemingly not listening, but instead watched the marble floor, specifically its reflections. Greymane noticed. It is said that sometimes hidden magic will appear in reflections or mirrors...but there was nothing.
Her back was also turned towards the prophet, so she did not see him pull out the flower he had requested to keep. The flower turned to black from her in the garden, but now it began to sprout leaves. The blackness slowly became white, engulfing the hate with harmony. Yellen looked directly at Greymane who stood, bowed then left.
When she was done playing he held out the flower to her. She gasped "it's THE FLOWER but I thought…" He stooped lower to her eye level. "You must listen to me very carefully Anita." Her eyes darted away in fear then returned to his. "I have not seen magic like this in my years. Were you singing or humming before you quit playing seven years ago?" She began to whimper. "I' I, I didn't know, I didn't mean too. I mustv'e." He kissed her forehead. "It is alright. It is alright to play, but make sure not one sound protrudes from your mouth." He tilted her chin up. A tear fell and glistened on the marble floor. "Azeroth is in need of healers...there is a time to heal and a time to kill. Both are important, the latter is much, much harder. Focus on the easy, focus on what is at arms reach. Focus on playing but promise me…" He looked at her again but this time his eyes were golden. "Do not sing. I will need to see why this is."
He walked off the stage. About midway down the rows he spoke "it was indeed beautiful; as to who your admirer is." He looked around the cathedral at its fresh paint and glistening blue glass "whoever she or he is, I can't worry about it at the moment. I have enough shadows to work with."
