ONE
It was dark in the abbey, though the light had begun to shine over the mountains. Another sleepless night watching the vineyards burn, wondering who would come home injured, and who wouldn't come home at all.
Danail Wolfslayer's various suits of armour, the metal contraptions of Stormwind and the leather makings of the local vendors, lay on the table in my room, high in the towers. As I looked at them, the sun shone through the tiny stone window and glinted off of the Stormwind crest. With a sigh, I stood.
"Wil!" A small bundle tackled me from my right, wrapping two arms around my waiste like vices. "Mama told me to deliver you a message, just like a Stormwind Sentinel! Breakfast is ready," the boy's blue eyes, much like my own, shone with excitement. How he got to be such a morning person, I would never know.
"Alright, Danny," I, Willowpania Wolfslayer said, a chuckle in my voice, "lets get downstairs before the soliders steal all the strawberry jam." Danny scowled at this, looking quite fearsome. As fearesome as an eleven year old boy could be, that is.
"I'll race you!" He shouted, before bolting down the stairs that were only wide enough to fit one person. "You win!" I shouted, following at a more leisurely pace. All these sleepless nights were getting to me, I couldn't even imagine what my dark circles looked like under my bright, blue eyes. As I rounded the corner into the tiny kitchen, I ran a hand over my black hair and down my short, simple tunic. The scent of boar bacon and eggs wafted through my nostrils and my mouth watered.
"Good morning, dear," a tall woman said from the window, poking her head through from the outside into the kitchen, "I thought I'd feed Flue for you this morning. He was whining at the door all night, I felt bad for leaving him in the garden. This is my way of making it up to him."
As if on cue, my mother gasped as the huge Prowler head poked itself through the window next to her. His canines jutted out slightly over his top lip, and the sight of me his jaw dropped in a silly, wolfy grin. Flue let out a puppyish bark and hoisted his huge frame farther into the window, flicking out his tongue as I reached forward to pat him. "But you still left him out there, I heard him howling," I said, slightly begrudgingly. Mother always let Flue sleep in my room with me when I was younger, but perhaps that was because Flue was the size of only a large dog when he was a pup. Now, a full grown Prowler Wolf, his head came to the middle of my abdomen. A huge, hulking, terrifying beast that was afraid of the dark. Flue's mottled gray head pushed itself further into the window, followed by two hulking, calwed paws. He rasped his huge tongue over my cheek once, before ducking back out the window to eat.
I sat down next to Danny at the tiny wooden table. I ran my hands over the surface, feeling the soft pricks of the splinters as they brushed lightly against my skin. The bells were ringing.
Living in they abbey had its perks. The bells, being one. They were beautiful, and the sound was my favorite music. I looked forward to them every morning. When I was younger, my father and I would sit in the huge, busted out stained glass window and watch the sun rising, listening to the bells. I never sat in the window anymore. It wasn't the same without him.
Danail Wolfslayer had been the very top of King Varian Wrynn's Royal Army. And then, when the King had disappeared, Danail was in talks to take his place. Varian, however, returned before the decision was finally made, bringing along his counterpart, the fearsom Lo'gosh. Danail had been one of the few to get into the King's better side, and stop him from allowing the creature inside of him to take over. What the Orcs did to him, we will never know.
Life was happy, for a while. When the woman Jaina Proudmoore had managed a tense truce between us and the Orcs, the whole of Azeroth shook with shock. Since there were no raids, no skirmishes, my father never had to leave home. He stayed with us at our home in the eastern part of Northshire Abbey, playing games with Danny and I, taking us riding. It was he who saved Flue from the raging forest fire in the mountains and brought the pup home to me as a gift. Things got even better when my mother announced that she was carrying another child. Then, everything fell apart.
fell apart. The Cataclysm hit and our roads split, the earth crying out in pain and torture. It struck everywhere; Elwynn, Northrend, even the cities across the Great Sea such as the Dwarves and Night Elves. The tremors were terrifying, and Mother pulled Danny and I into the stone basement. My father followed soon after, finding that there was nothing they could do but wait.
When the beam fell it happened suddenly, and Mother only had time to push us out of the way before it it her, square in the chest, shattering her ribs and breaking her leg. Still, after a year, she walks with a limp. My little sibling was lost.
Mere weeks before this, my father had been contemplating ending his time with the Royal Army, for he quite enjoyed his time here at home with us. But the loss of the baby and the near death of his family pushed him into leaving with the fist Guard that went out. Traitorous Orcs had moved into our homesteads, silently, killing at random and burning towns. The small Guard never had a chance.
The bodies were found abandoned, the horses scattered or stolen for meat by the Orcs. The only horse that remained was my father's, Samson the Great, nosing the lifeless bodies and whickering sadly.
We were at a loss, then, when the bodies were brought back to the town. No, I was not the only one to lose a father. My mother was not the only one to lose a husband. Although Varian had allowed us to keep our house, tax free, we chose to live in the abbey, in the small rooms in the additions that the preists gave to us. We could not stand to live in the house, it held too much of my father. The streets were filled with greif for weeks. But life did not allow much time for greiving, anymore, and something had to be done. Now, skirmishes ravaged our countrysides, wars dominating our outlands. People died each day. And yet I sat here, eating breakfast, wishing I was fighting the very creatures who took my father from me.
"Willowpania? Hello? I've been speaking to you!" My mother's voice broke through my reverie, and I shook myself, forcing my ears to listen. "I'm sorry, mother," I said,doing my best to sound sheepish when, really, I wasn't ."What is it you were saying?"
She glared at me, her brown eyes sparking angrily. "I said to feed the horses this morning before you wash," she sniffed, turning her gaze back to Danny, "and that's enough jam, Danail! Save some for the soldiers." She shoo'd his hands away with her wooden spoon, turning back to the fire to stir the stew that would be served for lunch and dinner. When she wasn't looking, I scooped Danny an extra spoonful of the jam, sliding it to him under the table. The twinkle in his eyes showed his appreciation.
I finished off the last of my toast and bacon, not feeling very hungry. Sighing, I got up from the table. "I'm going to feed the horses," I called over my shoulder, pulling a cloak from the nail by the door and starting outside.
The wind blew the scent of charred wood and blood. I shivered, though I was now accustomed to it. It felt as if the city would never be the same again. Flue spotted me from across the garden and let out a joyful bark, bounding over to me and covering my hands and face in wet, sloppy licks. "Ugh! Stop it, boy," I cried in glee, doing my best to push the two-hundred pound creature off of me. He obeyed and contented himself with chasing the chickens back into their coop and torturing them as they cowered inside.
I stepped over the rows of dying pumpkins and squash, making my way toward the simple, open stables. The two bay horses pricked their ears as I came forth, nickering greetings. The stallion, Ore, pressed his nose to my hand while the mare, Elendil, contented herself with nibbling the grasses that grew behind the bar holding them in. I picked up a few armfuls of hay from the corner of the garden, pushing it under the bar. Immediately, the two docile horses began to feed, whickering their thanks.
Satisfied, I turned to the larger stall. The magnificent creature inside stared at me, ears forward, eyes like glowing pits of black fire. Samson whinnied at me, demanding my attention. I stepped toward him, running my hands under his chin. He nuzzled my ears appreciatively, lipping my hair. I picked up as much hay as I could carry and brought it to him, and he ducked his head immediately and began to eat. Samson's black coat shone in the sun. his white socks and feathered feet impeccably clean. His mane had grown out of his signature war horse cut, and now hung to his shoulders in a wild tangle. What a joy it would be to ride him, I thought, but Samson never let anyone on his back anymore. He'd put up such a fight for anyone that wasn't my father. I knew Samson missed him too. But not as much as I.
Suddenly, Samson lifted his head and let out a terrifying whinny.
I turned immediately to see a hulking black creature slinking out of the trees beyond the fence, eyes glaring hungrily at me. It raised its sharp nose and sniffed the air, licking its lips over pointed, slavering canines. Panicking, I picked up a pitchfork laying by the entrance to the stables, pointing it in front of me, waiting. Attack, I thought, come get me, cretin. As if it read my mind, the black worgen crept toward me, his body low to the ground, ready to leap.
As it did, Flue burst out from behind the stables, catching the worgen in midair and taking it heavily down to earth. Gasping in terror, I watched as Flue sank his teeth into the fur behind the worgen's ear, yanking roughly. It whined and then snarled, raking its claws over Flue's shoulders. I leaped into the battle then, striking and spinning, stabbing at every inch of the creature I could reach, making sure to avoid the flashes of gray fur. The fight was leaving the worgen and, suddenly, it fell, the growls drowning in its throat with a horrible gurgle. Flue spat out the remains of the dog's throat and nudged me, as if making sure I was okay. "I'm fine," I assured him, "just a few scratches. You look okay,too." Samson was letting out loud, angry screams, rearing against the bar, eager to join the fight. He pranced back and forth, his head held high and proud. Once a warhorse, always a warhorse.
"Wil!"
I turned just as my mother came bounding from the house, a knife in hand. She had left her cane behind in her haste to help. Now, she limped heavily and as fast as she could. "Are you alright?" She shouted in fear, her eyes wild, "I heard the snarls and thought the worst! Damn those Orcs from Hell!" Her hands roamed over my body, checking for dire injuries. "I'm fine," I assured her as Danny rushed out to calm Samson, who was probably waking up the entire town. Even now I heard the shouts of concerned neighbors and Guards.
"What happened?"
"A rogue worgen! And so close!"
"Is she alright! Who killed it!"
"Wil killed the worgen?"
I shook off my mother's hands and headed for the house, dropping the bloodied pitchfork in the garden. Flue followed somberly after me, shaking his head to rid his mouth of the taste of the worgen's blood. I entered my room and pulled out the first leggings and vest I saw, heading straight for the bath.
I walked to the small pool in the bathhouse. Flue tried to follow me inside, but I swatted him away, preferring to be alone. He whined softly but took up his post outside the crude wooden door, snarling at anyone who walked by.
My shoulders sagging, I pulled the rough leather tie out of my hair, letting it fall down my back. It was mostly straight, with some strange waves appearing at the ends, and it was kinked where the tie had held it together for so long. I scratched my skull, pulling my fingers through the tangles. The rock pool in the ground was bubbling hot, steam rising into the air and curling into strange shapes. I fantasized seeing a wolf with snapping jaws, and a soldier, storming into battle. I lay my clothes on one of the rocks near the pool, making sure not to splash as I lowered myself into the mist. Almost immediately I could feel the steamy water loosening my muscles, which were tense and sore from sitting still so long. I sat on one of the jutted rocks inside the pool (I wasn't worried for hygeine, as this was our own personal perk of living in the abbey) and leaned my head back, wetting my hair. It stuck uncomfortably to my neck and shoulders and I reached hastily for the crudely made soaps Mother had bought from the local vendors, to brighten up the place.
I picked one that was stained purple and smelled of lilacs and crushed grapes. Green flecks shone out from the mottled purple; peices of the flower's stems still intact. I rubbed my hands over the soap, forcing it into a thick lather, and rubbed it through my hair and body, washing away the stained dirt and blood from my battle with the worgen.
I finished my wash, taking longer than necessary. After my morning, I deserved a little extra relaxation time. I stood and climbed from the pool, my body uncovered. I never worried about dressing in the bath house, with Flue watching the door, no one would enter.
Just as I thought this, though, the old wooden door banged open. I screamed, covering myself with my tunic and leggings. A sheepish face greeted me, big, calloused hands flying up to cover his eyes.
"I'm sorry! I didn't know you were in here, Wil, honest!"
"Rhidian!" I shouted, adjusting my tunic to cover me more fully. Rhidian Rowenbreeze clasped his hands harder against his eyes, sheilding all vision. The Rowenbreeze family lived just off the road to the east of us, and shared half a farmstead with us. Mother sometimes let them use one of the smaller pools in the bath house for their wash, when the cold stream near their cottage ran dry.
Rhidian's father, Teronis, had been one of Danail's best friends. Though considerably younger than my father, Teronis and Danail had bonded one night that they spent in the Stormwind tower together, watching over the city. It was a coincidence that my mother and Teronis' significant had conceived at the same time. The scandal following Marian Reese's pregnancy shook the whole town. Teronis and Marian were not yet married when Rhidian, their only son, was conceived, though they were promised to eachother. Immediately, they were forced to wed. The preists and Shaman's even suggested to have the baby killed upon birth, so that the "bastard son" would not smear the good children's reputations with his spiritual muck. They both refused.
I agreed, though, that Rhidian's life had never been easy. The Elders scorned him and refused to let him into the public school with the other children. Marian had homeschooled him all his life, and because of that, Rhidian had grown up with little to no friends. I had saved him from a group of older boys in the woods, who were bullying and hitting him. Ever since then, Rhidian seemed to have formed an attachment to me, and ever since that day I regretted helping him.
"Well, get out!" I finally screamed, leaping forward and trying to shove him out the door. At my touch, removed his hands. His chocolate eyes raked over me, taking in my tangled, drying hair and angry expression. His body, large and muscular due to his training as a soldier, barely moved an inch. He swept a strand of white-blond hair from his eyes before relenting, raising his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright!" He cried, allowing me to shove him out the door, "I'll see you later, Wil."
I slammed the door, muttering, "Not a chance."
"Are you sure you're alright to go to the Gathering, Wil?"
It was the third time Mother had asked this within the last fifteen minutes. Needless to say, she was starting to grind on my last nerve.
"Yes, I'm fine," I said, my teeth clenched slightly. It was all I could do not to shake her. Since the worgen had attacked, she'd fawned over me the entire day. Now, it was duskfall. Her voice was grating on my ears.
Finally, Mother sighed and turned away. "I don't know what I would have done if I...if I had lost you, too," she whispered, her voice weak, like a breeze in summer. I pressed my hand to her shoulder, but said nothing. I was never good with feelings.
"Danny!" I called, louder than I needed, to break the tension. "I'm getting ready to go, if you want to ride with me!" There were a few loud pounds and a little shaking of the walls and Danny flew into the kitchen, his clothes askew. "Is this okay to wear?" He asked, fingering the hem of his simple, black shirt and leather leggings. I reached out and mussed his black hair fondly. "You look like a strapping young man, " I said, and meant it. It seemed like yesterday Danny had been following me around the small courtyard of the school on his first day, scared out of his wits of the bigger children. "I won't let them hurt you, Danny," I had said, and I meant it, to this day.
We kissed Mother goodbye and strode out the door. Tonight was the night of the Gathering, the congregation of the younger people in Elwynn to show off their various talents. Recruiters from the Stormwind Army would be there, selecting their next prophets. I didn't know how I felt about this.
When I was young, it had been my dream to fight alongside my father, ending the tyrrany of the Horde once and for all. Often, I rolled around the yard, swinging my wooden toy sword at invisible enemies. Ore was my warhorse, though now he was much too old to break anything but a quick trot. I had dreamed of riding into battle, my armor silver and glinting in the sun, the lion of Stormwind golden on my tabard. In my mind, I saw blood spraying in the air, hitting my face, and I relished in it...
Now, though, I was cautious. Was I ready? This year, I contemplated not showing up at all to the Gathering. The recruiters most-likely knew who I was; more like who my father was. Varian Wrynn wanted me, and he wanted me badly. In one year, I was eligible to sign for the army. Is this truly, really what I wanted? To end up like my father, slain silently in the night and left, cold, on the road?
I shuddered, shaking my head. You're acting stupid, I told myself, gripping Ore's mane and pulling myself into the saddle. He turned his big, bay head an whickered kindly, nosing my hand. Of course this is what I wanted.
Danny trotted up next to me on Elendil. He gripped his reins tightly, his knuckles white. This was the first year he was allowed to compete at the Gathering. The recruiters would choose a boy and a girl from each class as champion. The ages spanned from eleven to seventeen; at eighteen, considered legally an adult, you either signed up for the platoon or moved on with your life. It was simple. Or, maybe it was, before the cataclysm hit. Now a days, soldiers that would once return home from Stormwind as they pleased, were confined there until set dates that allowed them time to come back and see their families. The battlefields were constantly filled with dying men, and the skirmishes were relentless. What used to be a calm, safe life had turned into an all around bloodbath.
"Wil?" Danny said, waving a hand in front of my face. I jerked back to life, turning to face him. His eyes were wide, blue pools of fear. "What is it, Danny?" I asked, my brow creasing in concern. "What if...what if they all make fun of me? I'm not as good as you are, or Rhidian." Danny had formed an odd camraderie with the bane of my existence as of late, which irked me to no end. That gave Rhidian an excuse to see me every day, but it also gave me an excuse to tease him relentlessy that his only friend was an eleven year old. It was a lose-lose situation.
I tugged lightly on Ore's reins, turning him toward the break in the fence. "You'll be fine, honey," I said, and his faced wrinkled; he hated when I got all sweet on him, "now lets get going or we'll be late!"
This seemed to renew his spirit, and I kicked Ore into the fastest trot he could manage without wheezing. Elendil, though considerably younger than the graying stallion, happily kept the slow pace with us. As we left the stone arch that led into Northshire, several others joined us. It wasn't until I heard the voice I despised that my mood darkened.
"Wil! Hey, Wil, wait up!"
Rhidian galloped up beside me on his gray mare, his smile as bright as the sunlight. I scowled at him openly. "Who invited you?" I asked rather rudely, but it didn't deter his mood. "Are you excited for the Gathering?" he asked me, reining his mare so she and Ore nearly touched shoulders. The two horses reached out their noses in greeting. Atleast they could be friends.
When I didn't answer, Danny piped up. "I surely am," he said, his voice rising a few octaves. Elendil could sense it, and tossed her head excitedly. Rhidian smiled at his friend, raising his pale brows. "Oh right, Dan, this is your first time! You're going to love it," he gushed, and I nearly gagged.
I nudged Ore's sides, and he faithfully picked up the pace a bit. I nosed ahead of the two boys, who now had their heads bent together, whispering excitedly. Ahead of me, I saw the auburn hair of Felicia Simmons, my closest friend. "Felicia!" I called, waving one of my hands above my head. She turned (she was on foot, for her family refused to buy horses) and waved, jumping up and down. "Hey, Wil!" She called, jogging up to me. Immediately Ore slowed to a stop and allowed her to hop on behind me in the saddle. She leaned back, rubbing her hands along his whithers.
"I saw you talking to Rhidian back there," were the first words out of her mouth. Her accent was spicy and high pitched. It reminded me of mead.
I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, just what I wanted," I said sarcastically, grinning. Felicia knew how I felt about Rhidian, andyet still suggested we become a couple. "He likes you, Wil," she said, her voice pleading, "you two would be such a match. Your mother would be pleased." Felicia raised her eyebrows expectantly; it was no secret how my mother felt about me and Rhidian becoming a couple.
I turned my head to the side and poked a finger to the back of my throat, making gagging noises. Felicia laughed and swatted at me. "You'll change your mind, one day," she said, grinning mischeviously. Felicia thought herself a soothsayer; our days as children had been spent lounging beneath the apple trees, attempting to conjour up our futures. Felicia always teased that she saw me going to war and coming home a hero.
As the first slate of a blue roof came into view, Felicia leapt off of Ore's back, mid-stride. "I'll see you there, Wil! My two feet are faster than your beast!" She teased, weaving in between a crowd of teenagers. I rolled my eyes and patted Ore's neck, which was slightly bathed with sweat. Maybe he was getting too old to ride.
I pulled away to the side, sliding out of the saddle. I heard Elendil's excited whinny and watched as she cantered to me, Danny hanging onto her back for dear life. He hated horses.
I took the reins from his white knuckles and he all but fell out of the saddle, landing squarely on his backside. I stifled a giggle; he was already flustered enough. I tied the horses reins to the post in front of the inn and ran the back of my hand over Danny's bare arm. "You'll be fine," I whispered reassuringly, and then stepped away before he could berate me for being "too mushy".
"Willowpania Wolfslayer?"
The voice was deep and gravelly, as if the speaker had gone days without a drink. I turned, annoyed, to see who was hailing me, and gasped.
"King Varian Wrynn?"