November 2022: Edited and reuploaded.
Darnassian:
Min'da: Mother.
Shan'do: Honored Teacher.
An'da: Father.
Quel'dorei: Children of noble birth. Also slang for "Highborne".
Ishnu-alah: "Good fortune to you". Greeting.
Stareye
There's so damn much going on in Mylenne's mind and heart, even the soft glowing of the moonlight coming from the marble ceiling of the Temple—as warming and enveloping as it always is—doesn't do anything to soothe her distressed state.
Barely containing an annoyed grunt, she kneels on the porcelain floor, ever careful with her new and recently bought creamy silk dress. Glancing to her periphery, she finds her fellow Sister, the sweet Thania, so deeply concentrated in her nightly prayer, not even her sensitive ears twitch in reaction to Mylenne's steps echoing through the entire main chamber.
Removing her long violet braid away from her shoulder and onto her back, she meets her friend and colleague, joining her palms and imitating Thania's position. Bowing her head, she faces the glowing wide ray of moonlight falling from the top of the ceiling to the center of the chamber; the Goddess' statue watching over Her subjects, awaiting their prayers and requests.
After a deep, long intake of breath, Mylenne reluctantly closes her eyes, settling to—at the very least—try to get her nightly prayer done and over with. Sadly, though, she's not really sure the task would even help with her current clouded mind.
The porcelain floor feels hard and cold below her knees, and the feeling of the pure moonlight washing over her skin is not as soothing and reinvigorating as usual. The big silver choker collar itches against her neck, and the new dress—which she'd bought in a rush after the awful accident, barely three weeks ago—feels tighter than the previous one, the harnesses chinching her waist in a very uncomfortable way, compressing her ribs and sternum.
She wants to blame the tailor for crafting a dress one size smaller than needed, yet honestly, Mylenne knows it'd be mean of her to do so. Very much less so when, after looking at herself in the mirror while trying it on for the first time, she'd marveled at the way the clothes accentuated the best features of her body, all but convincing her to take it on the spot.
The tailor might have had a bad choice in the size, but with all sincerity, if someone was to blame for the uncomfortable dress, that might be only Mylenne… and the damn dress making her feel pretty and attractive—something she hadn't felt that way about herself in so many years.
No, I won't blame the tailor or myself. In any case, this ridiculous choice of clothing is the fault of no one but Illidan Stormrage and that insufferable charming smile of his.
A frustrated scoff takes its way through her lips, eyebrows furrowing in sheer frustration. In her best attempt to be discreet and not disturb her Sisters, she tries subtly and silently to adjust her choker collar and robes, doing her best to concentrate and finish her main task of the night.
However, after some more minutes of struggling, Mylenne figures out it's useless. The bright moonlight and Elune's motherly gaze upon Her children aren't doing anything to soothe her that night, and the quietness of the main chamber only prompts her further into her thoughts.
Her teacher must have noticed her commotion, because when she rises from her spot and makes her way out of the chamber, she only nods in thought—and some silent concern—moving to the side to let Mylenne pass through. She brushes her teacher's arm in a gesture of apology, but her eyes keep glued to the floor, guilt and embarrassment narrowing her features.
The way to the Temple's balcony is rushed and clumsy, her steps echoing loudly across the outer chambers, yet if someone gets disturbed by her noises, Mylenne isn't let known of it. Once she makes it out and into the cold air of the night, she unties the last strands of her tight braid, inhaling deeply, searching for nothing but to relax her tense muscles.
There's a starless and cloudy sky that night, yet luckily it's not an excuse for the breeze to rush across and play with her now free hair. A gust of wind sings softly as it tickles her ears and caresses her lavender skin, stroking her bare arms and shoulders like the tender embrace of a child.
Mylenne has always enjoyed the feeling of the wind on her skin, bringing her back to the very best memories of her childhood, hunting in the forest with her Min'da. Resting her arms on the railing and fluttering her eyes shut, she marvels at how—more than a thousand years after her departure—the memory of the most important woman in her life remains intact and as vivid as ever.
It's always been on cold, windy nights like these, where if she closed her eyes and concentrated on hearing the whispers of the breeze, she could swear she heard the soothing sound of her Min'da's laughter, followed by the soft singing of sparrows. And even when that could be very much a product of her own imagination, she can swear she feels the arms of her mother encircling her, brushing the hair out of her shoulders, through the embrace of the wind.
The comforting sensation doesn't last for long, though, because in the next minute—or hour, Mylenne can't say for certain—a nimble, warm hand brushes her arm, dropping upon one of her shoulders, the figure of a silver-haired woman entering her line of sight.
Maiev Shadowsong rests her free hand above her own on the railing, returning the shy smile Mylenne gives her. "Welcome back to the world of the living," Maiev says with a hint of teasing, slightly tightening her grip on her when Mylenne unconsciously leans her head on her shoulder. "Are you alright, Myl?"
"Yeah. I am now, at least. It's only…" Mylenne exhales deeply, arms and body leaning closer to her, looking forward to the comfort only her friend can give, "I just couldn't find it within myself to pray tonight, that's all."
"And when were you then, if not praying? Up in the clouds again?" Maiev attempts a light joke, leaning her cheek on top of Mylenne's head, pulling her closer to her embrace. "It's okay, though. The way of the Priestess is certainly not an easy one…"
"After all this time, I can't seem to picture myself as one." The girl confesses with a small self-deprecating snort, "And believe me, Mai, I've truly tried."
"I know, dear. I know…" Maiev reassures her, and if there's someone in her life who would truly know her struggles, it would most definitely be her best friend.
After all, Maiev and her brother had been the ones that'd witnessed firsthand her tragic fallout from her Astromancy career, and the rather abrupt dismissal by her Shan'do of her apprenticeship—an event that prompted Mylenne's father to force her into the Priestess Order in search of a proper name to make their family proud and respected once again among the nobility.
The women go silent for a while, only listening to the agitated rising of the wind and looking at the clouded sky, waiting for the inevitable arrival of the storm the violent gale was bringing upon Suramar in any moment—just bypassing Val'sharah for now. Even though they still had some time before looking for shelter against the rain, both girls tighten their hold on one another instead, finding the much needed warmth in their embrace.
Maiev is the first one to break the silence, voice tinted with concern as she says, "What's going on in that thick head of yours?"
She sighs deeply, unsure where to start or even what to say to her best friend. What could she truly say, that hasn't been said before? Should she tell Maiev how stressful and frustrating it is to spend her eternal years like this, forever acting and trying to live up to someone else's expectations?
And still, how could she be certain this isn't truly what she wants for her life? She's spent so many centuries submitting to either her father or other people's requests and wishes upon her, it's getting harder and harder for her to remember the last time she did anything because she wanted to and not because it was asked of her.
Not to mention the last thing she mostly enjoyed doing and felt passionate towards—studying the stars, and recording sightings and constellations—was swiftly and all so suddenly taken away from her; barely without a proper explanation from her Shan'do's part.
So, where can she truly draw the line between her own wants and wishes, and those of her An'da?
Her friend's hand keeps brushing her arm though, encouraging her to at least try voicing her thoughts. And so Mylenne tries—at least for Maiev's sake. "There's father, mother, my training as a Sister, Jarod and you… this ridiculous small dress I bought." She scoffs, knowing it's too much to even begin with, pulling at her choker once again now that the mere mention brings back the uncomfortable feeling of it. "Ugh, it's… a lot. Take your pick." She finishes, voice weak and small.
Luckily, Maiev recognizes that tone of hers all too well, clutching her friend further into her and making Mylenne all the more grateful of having one of her dearest friends comforting her at the moment. "All right, let's return to the present, then. Maybe I can distract you by giving you the latest news about me and my brother…" Maiev hesitates slightly in the middle of her sentence, brows furrowing tightly for a bare moment, "... and your father."
That prompts Mylenne to disentangle a bit off her, silver eyes traveling up to meet her friend's face. "Father? What has he done this time?" She wonders, voice partially demanding, growing wide-eyed and suddenly alarmed. "Is it about Jarod? I should—"
Lifting her free hand, Maiev interrupts her sentence. "You should do nothing, Myl. Jarod's already dealing with him." She says with a scowl. "He only tried, and not for the last time, to get my brother into his lines, but there's no need for either of us to worry about that." Maiev's face softens a little, "Lord Ravencrest certainly won't give up one of his best Lieutenants to him, rest assured of that."
"Father's been so insistent about that for so many years, though. I should try to make him see reason, at the very least." Mylenne insists, lilac lips pursing into a thin line, barely able to contain her growing annoyance. "He can't keep spending his moons trying to seize control over everyone else's lives, Maiev. It's—"
"—It's insufferable, unethical. I know." Maiev shrugs, knowing the answer to that. "Call it however you want, but still, it is how it is. Probably none of us are going to change that, so why keep wasting our breaths over it?"
At that, Mylenne can't help dropping her head and sighing frustratingly, giving up—if not reluctantly—on the subject, at least for tonight. While she agrees with her friend and admits she has a point, that certainly doesn't ease her disgust and discrepancy towards her father's actions.
Is he always going to be like this? Even if Jarod and I submit to his insane ideas and get betrothed?
Regardless, that's a topic Mylenne doesn't wish at all to bring up at the moment, very much less so to just think of it.
The gust rises up more violently, and both girls take their time to adjust their silver cloaks over their heads and shoulders, sheltering themselves from the weather. Curiosity gets the better of Mylenne, though, asking, "Why are you here for, though? Wasn't expecting you tonight…"
Maiev leans on the frame of the door's entrance to the balcony, hands hidden behind her back. "I'm waiting for my audience with Dejahna. The High Priestess requested me to discuss my new assignment." Mylenne's eyes blow wide at that, piercing her with a surprised stare. "Remember our dinner talk, nearly a month ago? It appears Mother Moon listened to my prayers…" A deeply satisfied smirk crosses her features, fully aware of the meaning behind her words.
"Does it mean—?" Mylenne breathes, not daring to say it out loud in fear of somehow jinxing it.
Her friend grins fiercely, though. "Yeah. It seems I'm going to be settled on the Hajiri Temple!"
Mylenne brings her hands to her mouth in shock and surprise, barely restraining getting emotional. "By Elune, that's wonderful news!" She exclaims, rushing to Maiev's side and crushing her into a hug, all previous thoughts and concerns suddenly forgotten. "Goddess, I'm so happy for you!"
While Maiev's noticeably taller and heavier than her, in the midst of happiness and excitement, it gets easier to grab her and spin her around, the pair's happy laughter echoing across the balcony, inside and outside the Temple's walls.
Mirthful tears narrow Maiev's eyes once she stops spinning her around, yet for the sake of her doesn't let them spill off her eyes—being such a proud and composed dorei as she is. "Does Jarod know already?" Mylenne can't help wondering, looking up at her, feeling her safe and comfortable in her arms.
That gets Maiev to hesitate a little, gaze shyly glancing elsewhere, and she lets her down. "He's… supposed to come over once the audience concludes." Her friend explains, hand going to rub the back of her neck in a sheepish manner, somehow avoiding her gaze. "I just want to be really sure this is happening before telling him, you know?" Maiev shrugs it off, but she certainly understands what she means.
Tonight might be the very night where Maiev Shadowsong's dream—the critical step she'd been waiting for more than two hundred years to take on her career as a Sentinel—might come true. Her future was about to be decided in a single audience with the High Priestess, and her life was about to change drastically in a matter of hours and a couple of words.
And where Mylenne would be unconvinced about everything, if there's something in her life she'd never be doubtful about, that was her unwavering belief and trust in the Shadowsong siblings's abilities, and goals they've set for themselves. She definitely understands Maiev's slight hesitance about announcing her imminent departure to her brother, and can even relate to it.
It's no small news to deliver, after all. And would certainly change everything.
Coming down from their high, the two girls return to their previous spot at the balcony, bracing their arms over the railing and turning their backs on the landscape now, focusing on one another. Without helping it, Mylenne's thoughts drift to the second dorei she loves the most in the entire world.
If Maiev's about to be transferred to the Hajiri Temple—and she would, that's a certainty, and there's not a single doubt about it whatsoever—that would mark the first time in fifteen hundred years where Jarod and Mylenne would be forced to spend their moons without her. And not simply nearby as it had been so far, but miles away, nearing the capital, no less.
Would Jarod be as scared as her with the thought of being so far away from his sister when he finally gets the news? What are the two of them going to do without her by their side?
The potent and nearly violent gust of the wind rushes further into Suramar, some clouds in Val'sharah slowly dispersing, and thankfully, the rain keeps on resisting to fall upon them. Through the corner of her eye, Mylenne notices some shy silver-white rays peeking through the dark gray clouds—feeling like the Mother Moon attempting to make herself known even with a heavy storm about to pour down on Her children just nearby.
It's when those weak yet persistent rays reach the crown of Maiev's silver hair when she speaks again, her thoughts and resolve somewhat renewed—as if Elune's clarity had just fallen upon her. "You know, maybe you should come to Hajiri with me…" She says nonchalantly, shoulders down and arms relaxed over the railing, calm as ever, as if blabbering about the weather and not a life changing choice in her friend's life.
Her violet brows quirk in sheer curiosity. "Should I? What are you suggesting?" Mylenne wonders, resting an elbow at the railing and tilting her head, meeting her friend's gaze.
Maiev only gives her a casual shrug. "You've always been more inclined to the work of Sentinels rather than the one of a Priestess. Hunting has always suited you better than praying, after all." She says matter-of-factly, grabbing her closest free hand in hers, "Have you thought about it, Myl? Training at the Hajiri Temple, the two of us and our moonglaives, side by side making a name for ourselves?"
A deep thoughtful hum escapes Mylenne at that, allowing herself to envision it, if only for a moment. Although she doesn't quite remember the last time she held a moonglaive, she does recall the powerful feeling of it—and the bare picture of the two of them, dressed up in Sentinel leather armor, running through the forest up on their saber's backs, with only the moon as their witness—certainly feels nothing short of wonderful to her. Almost like a dream come true.
When was the last time she did something because she solely wanted to and not because she was requested of her, again?
"That does sound amazing, Mai. It truly does," Mylenne admits with a wide grin. And yet, she thinks it's better to be fully honest, and adds, "Although Jarod might hate us for leaving him out and losing all the fun…"
The genuine laugh coming from Maiev echoes through the marble rooms of the Temple, setting the quietness of the place alive, the whispers of the wind adding up to it. Utterly unable to resist it, Mylenne joins in on the laughs, both girls relaxing and leaning further on the balcony's railing.
"Will he only, though?" Maiev ponders teasingly between cackles. Yet, in between her mirth, Mylenne senses her small hesitation as her friend removes some strands of her silver hair off her face. "Or is… someone else who wouldn't be happy to know of your leaving?"
Mylenne's forehead wrinkles into a frown, making her wonder what in Elune's name is her friend talking about. It's a very subtle tilt of Maiev's head to the side that prompts her gaze off and into the streets, now brightened by the—if brief—moonlight above what gives her an answer, glancing at it with deep curiosity.
The shimmering rays of the moon are not nearly strong enough to blind her, and not recognize the pair of golden eyes staring at her from below—eyes oh so bright, but with a strength of its own—down the stairs of the Temple.
It's anything but dazzling, the way Illidan Stormrage looks at her, how his gaze doesn't falter in the slightest whenever she's in his sights—feeling both like prey and hunter at the same time, so vulnerable yet so powerful with a mere look. It is now, with that unwavering stare of his, when she feels as if he's only focusing on the single thing worth looking at.
And… wow, she's lost for words for how that truly feels.
To say the least, it's hypnotizing, to feel those stunning golden eyes on her and making her mouth go dry and her heart leap and go wild inside her chest. If there's one thing Mylenne can say for certain, is that no one ever had looked at her the way Illidan does.
Not in her whole near two thousand years, anybody ever had made her feel the way he does just now; admired, revered… worshiped.
It has to be something regarding his magic. It has to be a spell, a charm, otherwise…
Something pokes one of her shoulders and, all in a sudden, the captivating moment is gone, making her flinch and look away, breaking eye contact with the dorei below. Mylenne's about to reprimand her friend for startling her, but hesitates once she notices the amused stare Maiev directs at her.
"If I didn't know you any better, I'd say you saw a ghost," Maiev snickers, barely containing the smirk creeping up her face. It looks tense and somewhat fabricated, though, the typical smile one would give to simply drop off any second guesses someone might have about.
"Why, sure, because you startled me—!" Mylenne protests in a small voice, doing her best not to be overheard. Curiosity gets the better of her, though, and her eyes dare steal another glance at the twin brothers walking the street, closing in on the Temple.
It seems the men are into a serious discussion, judging by the deep frown from the bright green-haired man, and his sibling grimacing in response. Regardless, their dispute doesn't last for too long, for in the next moment both of them appear to set aside whatever differences they might have, turning their eyes to the balcony and waving in Mylenne and Maiev's direction.
The women return their greetings, drawing the symbol of Elune above their heads in courtesy. Yet Mylenne can't seem to help herself and be somewhat entranced at the sight of the Stormrage brothers.
For when their kinship is blatantly obvious, there's something about the twins' expressions that are so, so very different for everyone to see. Where Malfurion's silver gaze is comforting, soothing and familiar, washing over her like the ever gentle waves of a river, Ilidan's golden eyes are electric, kindled, intense.
It's certainly quite strange to her. They might be twins, with the same nose and curve on their jaws, but when it comes to their spirits, when Malfurion is like water, Illidan is like fire.
Maiev's the first to turn away from the street, brushing her friend's arm in a silent gesture to recall her attention. Resting their backs on the balcony's railing, away from prying ears and mouths, she says, "I must admit I can't find either of them… appealing."
"Oh? How so?" Mylenne wonders, crossing her arms over her chest, brushing her long violet mane off and out of her shoulders.
"I do know what most women think about the Stormrage brothers, I'm not that blind." Her friend emphasizes with a quirk of her brows. "Maybe, to me, it just is what I've heard of them." Maiev shrugs, "And Malfurion seems so… boring to me."
Mylenne chuckles heartily at her confession. "I don't truly believe Priestess Tyrande would fully agree with you, Mai."
"I know. Neither would Sylenna, if she ever hears me." Maiev's tone gets wary, and even with mentioning another of their fellow Sisters, her eyes are fixed on Mylenne's face. "To be honest, who concerns me the most is Malfurion's brother. And don't give me that look." She warns, narrowing her eyes, "I can see the way you look at him, Myl."
She rolls her eyes, mostly in her most natural reaction to such a comment. "Fine. Go on then, enlighten me." She challenges her friend, deadpanning with a slight hint of annoyance in her voice. "What's so wrong about Illidan, in your opinion?"
The taller dorei crosses her arms in a defensive—yet resolute—posture. "I believe you're rather unaware of his true nature." Maiev explains herself with caution at first, but her voice shifts and softens as she goes on, "He seems brash, arrogant. Pretty much of a beguiler to anyone." She doesn't seem to reveal any juicy detail Mylenne wasn't aware of beforehand, prompting her to simply shrug in response, not surprised. "I've also heard of his initiation into the Moon Guard Order, and you know my feelings towards his kind."
Mylenne hums in thought while rubbing the bridge of her nose, half-heartedly attempting to ease her distress on that particular subject. She remains silent, though, because there's not much to truly say against that—at least, not when the same thoughts concerning Illidan's nature have already crossed her mind, after her last encounter with him.
And anyways, even when her friend is widely justified in her opinion and judgment, Mylenne could never bring herself to despise so fiercely that 'kind' of dorei like Maiev does. However, going on a rant about her friend's prejudices and how people shouldn't be defined by their born abilities feels like a pretty bad idea—at least that night.
Maiev sighs at her lack of reply, shaking her head softly, her striking silver hair waving softly. "I don't intend to judge you, Myl. You clearly see something at least nice in him that I don't." She clarifies, dropping a comforting hand on her shoulder, giving it a friendly squeeze. "I was just trying to warn you a bit. Just a reminder that he's a sorcerer and sorcerers—"
"—Are not to be trusted. I know." Mylenne finishes in a monotone voice, nodding and thankfully succeeding in not rolling her eyes—she's heard the very same speech so many times along the centuries, it gets somewhat tiring. "He'd already shown his curiosity towards my, er… abilities, though."
Her friend quirks a brow at that, "Did he?" She nods in answer, "Are you saying your… inner magic is the only reason why you caught his eye?" Maiev ponders, lips frowning in a thin, thoughtful line.
"Maybe? No?... I don't know." Mylenne admits with a shake of her head, unable to keep a slight shudder coursing through her at the mere mention of her inheritance. "It's confusing, to say the least. But he's been anything but very kind to me, so I can't say for certain what he's looking for. If he's even looking for something, though."
With her statement, Maiev shrugs. "I wouldn't be surprised if he's trying to slither his way into getting a place among the quel'dorei." She adds matter-of-factly.
Silver eyes open wide at that, feeling shocked with her friend's presumption. Her heart begins to race inside her chest, hands tightening her grip on the balcony's metal railing, repeating Maiev's words inside her head, trying to make it make sense.
I hadn't thought of that… Why haven't I?
Yet, could it be possible it was only her social status the reason why Illidan seemed drawn to her? It's pretty sick and appalling to even think of him that way… but it's even worse to think Maiev's assumptions might be accurate somehow.
And she can't discard that theory, no matter what.
Out of impulse, her mind drifts to the memory of him, barely three weeks ago, after spotting him in the Main Square of Suramar, impeccably dressed up in his Moon Guard robes and talking with Priestess Tyrande. She perfectly recalls the confidence he exuded, seemingly so proud to be where he was then. And while she somewhat admired such self-assurance, now she can't help feeling disappointed at that picture of him.
How hadn't she considered he might have been simply… acting? Just pretending, as so many dorei in those circles do every so often?
I did believe him, though. Am I such a fool to think he was being genuine? Am I too naive to think not all sorcerers are as dangerously ambitious and volatile as Maiev so likes to paint them?
Regardless, she's brought off her reverie as a Priestess initiate appears by the balcony, searching for Maiev in means to bring her to the High Priestess's chambers.
The woman turns to her one last time, tenderly taking Mylenne's hands in hers after adjusting the hood of her cloak over her head—ever attentive of her appearance. "Will you wait for me?" Maiev partially pleads, anxiety evident in her voice.
"Of course, dear." Mylenne reassures her with a wide smile, tightening her grip on her just for a moment, trying to calm her nerves. "Now go, you shouldn't keep the High Priestess waiting."
It's past the middle of the night, the Moon already having reached her peak and clouds more dispersed in the sky, and yet Mylenne had no wishes whatsoever to return to her nightly activities. She'd been waiting for her friend for more than an hour, and the growing anxiety had been getting the better of her, trying her best to distract herself by spotting the nearest constellation the immense sky had to offer, to little to no avail.
Even with a clearer sky than at the evening, no clue or answer seems to be found on the skies that night. No Path pointing to the Moon, no Mother's Gaze, and certainly no Hunter to reassure her of anything.
The best was to leave the Temple for the night—or rather, that's what she's most sure of.
However, a thought makes her stop in her tracks: What about the Stormrage brothers? Are they still outside? Or is it, perhaps, they've only passed through?
She hadn't crossed Priestess Tyrande that night to presume Malfurion and Illidan had come with the usual purpose of meeting their friend in common. Although, it certainly is still early for Tyrande's activities to be over, and with the High Priestess's arrival it's safe to presume the obvious reasons for the absence of Priestesses strolling by the place.
With a not-so-elegant move, she removes the silver cloak wrapped around her shoulders, massaging her temple exasperatedly. Goddess! I'm acting like such a stupid child. They're not snakes, just a couple of men, it can't be that hard to go past them!
Taking three long and deep breaths, and readjusting the ridiculous small dress—pulling the silk up to better cover her chest, as well as unlatching a harness that keeps on pressing the side of her ribs in such an uncomfortable way—Mylenne finally forces her mind and thoughts to shut up, at least for a little bit.
The main chambers are ever so quiet, nearly in a creepy way, when she walks to the entrance. It's quite convenient that all the attention appears to be focused on the arrival of their leader, allowing her to slither away from the Temple without any witnesses. Her nervousness remains somewhat evident, though, fingers fidgeting with her silver metallic bracelet on her way out.
A breeze waving from Suramar City caressing her face and toying with her violet hair is the first thing she feels once she places her feet outside the Temple of Elune—as if welcoming her to her freedom. She can't help sighing deeply in relief at the sensation, most especially as she dares steal a glance to the marble stairs leading to the street, finding them devoid of people.
Thank you, Mother Moon, she inwardly sends her prayer with a grateful smile. As she descends the stairs, she feels her stress diminishing within each step down she takes, shoulders and arms more relaxed, air somewhat clearer; leaving all her troubles behind and inside the Temple's doors.
But then, her relief gets so short-lived as in the middle of her way, the scent of a very particular sour smell reaches her nose, mixed with a stronger smell of oak trees, her anxiety spiking up near instantly. Her senses recognize such scents—mostly, the unique smell of magic in the air.
Her gaze goes up and ahead of the marble steps, and Mylenne's heart misses a beat at the unexpected sight of the Stormrage twins, rounding the bottom end of the Temple's stairs. They weren't hidden, simply out of the way.
Startled, she freezes in the spot once she's spotted, gaping like a fish out of the water as her eyes find Illidan's so striking golden ones pretty much beaming at her, a wide smile plastered all over his dark skinned face. And there's nothing she can truly do, tongue rebellious and heart racing as Illidan takes a step forward, the moonlight caressing his long cobalt hair, tied up into a ponytail.
Mylenne's sure she must be looking so ridiculous right then, speechless and blushing at the mere sight of such a handsome man eagerly climbing up the stairs to meet her halfway—and it's certainly her he's approaching to, being the only dorei around—and no matter how much she turns the wheels in her mind and searches for something to say, comes up with nothing.
Should she, though? How couldn't she be left so speechless, with so little air in her lungs, with those intense golden eyes boring into her, making her feel as if she's the most beautiful creature he's ever seen?
Her eyes travel sheepishly to the green-haired man left below, perhaps searching for some help, a sign, something. However, Malfurion also appears quite confused by his twin's unexpected attitude—if she can judge by the furrowing of his brows and strange tilt of his head. Regardless, her attention shifts to Illidan all too easily, only with the sound of his baritone voice, already raising goosebumps over her skin.
"Ishnu-alah, Mylenne. It's so good to see you…" Illidan greets her with that usual dazzling, so charming smile of his, her blush creeping all over her cheeks and neck. And after hearing such a deep voice, only one thought crosses her mind.
This ridiculous dress is too tight.
