The Romancer Greatfather Winter
Episode Four:
"Come in." Opalbane said, but didn't bother looking away from the window. Her gaze was fixed on the cheerful orphans running about in Cathedral Square a few stories below her. They screamed with delight as they played tag. Some of the kids had been fighting or teasing each other and were now crying. However, unlike her, the little boys and girls had someone to run to, the Matron who held them tight when their world seemed near an end. Opalbane felt terrible watching them share a love that she did not know, but found it hard to look away.
"Priestess Opalbane, are we glum again today?"
"I'd hardly call it 'glum', Priest Benactus. It's like a disease that drags at my soul, pulls at the corners of my eyes, my mouth… it is impossible for me to live with the only life I've ever known stolen from me. Do you know what that is like, Benactus?"
Priest Benactus sighed heavily. The enchanting Night Elf priestess was always like this, after Silithus and well before. When he first met her some months ago, the tragic sadness was almost beautiful. But now, the reality of Opalbane's pale beauty clashed heavily with her dark words and thoughts, and the result was jarring and well… rather pathetic.
"It is Winter's Veil, Opalbane—"
"Ah yes! Another day for me to dread."
"I only meant that it is a time for celebration, to consider your blessings."
"My blessings are but few—"
"Woman!" Priest Benactus lost his temper, and had to clear his throat to calm himself.
This caused Opalbane to turn from the window, surprise on her melancholy face.
"Your insistence that the world is ever on your shoulders is tiring, isn't it? Don't you get exhausted by being so sad all the time?"
Opalbane played with her long white braid thoughtfully and lowered her eyes. "I miss Zar'teaus."
"Ah yes, the old god. You know, I don't think it's fair for you to consider him an ex lover… he wasn't even your race."
"Female Night Elves date men and dwarves all the time, Benactus!" Opalbane pleaded.
"But not decrepit, near-disembodied entities! My dear, surely lines must be drawn."
"All my life, all I knew was Zar'teaus. It was but a word when I was a girl, but then it grew… he became an idea, then a voice. And always, he spoke to me, saying Come to me Opalbane. Come and worship Zar'teaus. Zarteaus is an Old God. Zar'teaus is powerful. Zar'teaus deserves to be worshipped." Opalbane's glowing white eyes muted, her expression became distant. Then she said, "Zarteaus deserves to be loved." It came out sounding like a sacrilegious hymn, something she'd repeated many times before the cultists in Silithus.
Priest Benactus entered the room and stood by the bed. He knew that Opalbane was weak and could not get up from the bed to be near him.
"Priestess Opalbane, those may sound like pretty words, but they mean little. What did they do for you, except cause you to come into conflict with the courts of Stormwind? And now, you are here, at the Cathedral of Light, hardly living… all that ordeal made you sick. Can't you see that?"
Opalbane nodded.
"You have no parents. They were murdered in Felwood. You have no family. Priestess Feathershine thinks only of herself, and the rogue Wisthera has taken your brother from you. Where is the human mage Willypearl? She is with a new family, a powerful family that does not need you near their notoriety. You have absolutely no one but the shadow priests here in the Cathedral of Light, and even among those, there are very few." Like any shadowpriest, Benactus did not seek to soothe others with pandering or sweet words. The shadow was the truth behind the light, and why should penitents be spared the cold truth if they needed to face it eventually?
"Among those…" Opalbane surmised, "I have only you."
Priest Benactus nodded. "I am your only hope. I am the only one who knows how to draw the demonic rune that heals you," he gestured under Opalbane's bed where the cobalt chalk-drawn rune glowed and hummed. "I am the one who has the authority to use these dangerous mana draining candles. He nodded at the tiny blue candles lit all around the dark room. There is no door to recovery except through me. Do you accept this?"
Opalbane managed a weak "Yes."
"Good then. I've come to tell you that you will be alone tonight."
"Of course, I would be alone tonight of all nights."
"Unfortunately, that is the way of things. The other priests have left to be with their families and friends tonight, and I have things to attend to as well. Will you manage alone?"
"I always have." Opalbane sounded mournful.
"Opalbane," Priest Benactus put a hand on the thin Night Elf's shoulder and handed her a package. "There is hope for you yet. This came for you in the mail." Opalbane stared at the paper brown envelope in disbelief. Who would think of her? "Also, there is something more I would say about Zar'teaus. Do not think of this as your first Winter's Veil without him. That was not a romantic bond you see. I've… studied these things. You are more like a worshipper without her god, lost the way Tyrande might be if Elune were to part—"
"Don't say such a horrible thing!" Opalbane hid her face in her hands. Which was worse, the idea of losing Zar'teaus in such a final way, or the goddess Elune herself leaving all her children on Azeroth? That was when Opalbane realized that Zar'teaus had the same presence in her heart as Elune.
"If you miss him in that way… you will see how powerful you truly are. You have the strength of a high priestess within you. Did you know that?"
Opalbane flinched. Just whose side was Priest Benactus on?
"Think of how powerful you could be if you stopped struggling and simply embraced your fate. You were meant for so much more than doing petty favors for Elune, or the Light. Why not take control of your destiny… master those forces that claw at you. Please, take this lonely time and think. Goodnight."
With that, Priest Benactus turned to leave. Just before the door, he withdrew a large bottle of rum from his long robes and placed it on the table. "I know that this is forbidden, but… happy Winter's Veil." He said and smiled. Opalbane eyed the bottle hungrily and listened as he pulled the heavy door to her room shut and slid the deadbolt into place from outside. Perhaps it was meant to be kind, but Opalbane knew she had to resist the sweet contents of the dark bottle Benactus left. Drink was the one thing that gave her the courage to run to Silithus when it seemed her world was falling apart three months ago. Since then, all her friends and family insisted she had a drinking problem. But even these people had abandoned her.
"Power… I only felt safe in the embrace of the Twilight Cultists, and I was only strong when I knew Zar'teaus would be with me." Opalbane glanced at the window as she opened the package Priest Benactus left her. "No matter what, I cannot walk this world by myself. If the cultists are all I have left… would it be so horrible to return to Silithus, when no one here cares for me?"
Then Opalbane read the letter:
Dearest Friend,
Thanks so much for the hat! I love it! I'm so sorry I didn't have time to meet with you or talk, but getting ready for this wedding is so tiring! Elec's family is also driving me crazy. But, enough of that honey. How are you? Say hi to everyone for me this Winter's Veil. I made a cloak for you in exchange for the gift and the beautiful letter you sent. Please know that I could never hate you. I forgive you for attacking us in Silithus. You weren't yourself then, and I understand that. I'm just glad that you're safe now.
Since it's in style these days, I won't sign my name, but I'm sure you know who this is.
Happy Holidays!
"Wow, I have soo many friends, it's going to be hard narrowing down just who would be so nice to me this Winter's Veil." Opalbane raised her eyebrows, and forced the cheeriest sarcastic voice she could fake. Of course it was Willypearl, and of course Opalbane had been a complete failure as a friend, yet again. She hadn't sent the girl a thing… but it must have been a certain overbearing priestess in Darnassus who did. Priestess Feathershine always meddled in Opalbane's life. Three months before, Priestess Feathershine admonished Opalbane for studying the shadow. Priestess Feathershine felt it was a disgrace for a priestess of Elune and forbade Opalbane from going to Stormwind to meet Benactus and become a shadowpriestess. After, Priestess Feathershine lead an expedition halfway across the world to retrieve her from Silithus. Now, Opalbane wasn't even good enough for her own friends, and Priestess Feathershine was doing her favors.
Perhaps, Opalbane should not have taken it all so seriously. That Priestess Feathershine remembered Willypearl when Opalbane herself had not wasn't so terrible, and hardly demanded a dramatic reaction. But, Opalbane gazed at the honey bottle of rum an arm's reach away, and thought that it would be just the thing to take the edge off her problems.
"Just one little drink… and then I'll put it back." Opalbane said, her hands shaking as she forced the bottle open and tossed her head back.
Opalbane floated in and out of coherence, but at some point, she found a stylus in her hand and a half-finished letter. It was addressed to Priestess Feathershine, and all it needed was a good ending.
…and you're so self-centered and self-righteous, you think all of Azeroth condones your actions. But do you know what I think? I think you're disgusting. The way you carry on teasing men… How do I know you didn't tempt my brother all those years ago? I don't think he made an ass out of himself courting you on the ship for nothing. You stay away from him, you stay away from me, you stay away from all of us, and stop meddling in my life! I hate you, Feathershine… don't tell me where I can go to recover from Silithus, or what kind of priestess I can be, or what kind of god I can worship. Don't even reply to this letter!
Don't even--
Opalbane had to take another swig to get out the rest.
Don't even pray for me. Tell Elune I can take care of myself!
Opalbane
Crying, Opalbane sealed the letter and brought the bottle to her lips again.
Outside, in Cathedral Square, Alessandre was startled to see a man crouch, inches from where he was hiding in a tree and pull out an ornate spyglass. Then, just like Alessandre had many times, the priest counted up two stories of the west wing of the Cathedral of Light, and then over four windows to Opalbane's room. The curtains were still open and the man observed Opalbane for a few moments.
What a bastard, Alessandre thought to himself as he watched the guy from where he was stealthed. Then, Alessandre took out his own spyglass and counted. He could see Opalbane very clearly, and she didn't look happy. But wasn't this Priest Benactus in charge of watching her...and just what was the priestess drinking... why would someone be so irresponsible as to tempt a delicate alcoholic?
"Yes, that's it," Priest Benactus muttered to himself and smiled, "Drink my girl. Wash them all away on this special night and by tomorrow your heart will be changed. You will have only me to guide you. And then you will ask, 'Where shall I go, Benactus?' And I will say, 'Come with me to Silithus and I can make you one of us again. And this time, since you will truly be willing and not just drunk, you can take the rites and it will be impossible to leave.'"
Then, Priest Benactus swathed his cloak about his shoulders and walked away.
Alessandre waited a few moments and then let out a low whistle. "She really hasn't got any friends, has she? Perhaps, if I act now I can help… but wouldn't Shadowstep be more pleased if I just sit back and take notes?"
That was quite the question indeed. Alessandre pulled his pipe out of his breast pocket and began to smoke it.
Of course, smoking while stealthed is a dead giveaway. And if for a kaldorei, smoking at all was a bad habit, a kaldorei rogue who smoked was worse.
"Ho ho ho there!" a merry voice called up to where Alessandre was hiding. Slowly, anxiously, Alessandre forced himself to look below.
"Greatfather Winter!" he exclaimed.
The jolly pudgy dwarf in the red suit waggled his finger at Alessandre. "Tsk tsk. Spying on naked priestesses are we? Someone is being very naughty this year, and from what I know about you Alessandre, you've been a bad little boy for far to long. Perhaps the worst person in all of Azeroth."
Alessandre tried to convince himself that he was just seeing things, or that the stuff his pipe was filled with was not what the vendor in the Dwarven District told him it was.
But sure enough, Greatfather Winter sat comfortably atop his red nosed reindeer and a league of jolly gnomes in red and green outfits flanked him on either side. Not a tricksy goblin in sight.
"Oh yes, I'm talking to you sir. And you have hell to pay this year!" Greatfather Winter bellowed. Alessandre yelped in surprise and fell from his perch.