Straydog Saga

Flea 16: Darkside of the Moon

Hanariel's breath caught in his throat. He stood there as if frozen. The chattering crowd walking about the upper trunk seemed to blur around him as a figure stood, conversing with her admirers. She turned, indigo hair slightly falling over her shoulder. The face in his branch-induced visions had only a few more wrinkles in his waking sight. The simple smile on her face caused a spark within in his chest. The red, clawing feeling began climbing its way into every sense. He could not control what had taken hold as old wounds met new outrages. His feet propelled him forward and with his single hand, Hanariel parted the crowd like a sharp sword. When he was within speaking distance, Iona Sagesmoke felt a hot whip against her face. Her eyes turned to meet unfamiliar blue orbs swirling with anger.

"H-How DARE you!" She spoke with a hollow threat in her trembling voice, hand reaching to cool the burning sensation on her cheek.

"Iona Sagesmoke…" Han spoke, voice trembling with pain and anger. The action caused a confused look to instantly spark in Iona's features. Those supplicants who worshiped their elder moved to strike back but something in the air seemed to slow their steps, if not their intent. The aura that surrounded the fuming high elf seemed to mirror in the branches that surrounded them. The white appendages quivered and shook with his anger.

"W-Who are you?"

"Though these girls worship you, do they know who you truly are, what you DID!" With the last word spoken, the small group of priestess cowered as a cracking sound came from the branches above. But the anger that broke like a tidal wave slowly receded and the branches slowly returned to their usual relaxed position. It was then Iona noticed small tears pooling in his eyes.

"What are you accusing me of, boy?" She sneered, eyes still wide from the audacity of the young priest. Hanariel couldn't speak, though his outrage was more than capable of answering.

"Time may bury your transgressions, priestess. But those who have been hurt by your carelessness will not stay out of sight simply because you want them to." Han gave a concluding nod and turned away. His feet carried him as quickly as a walking pace would allow. Iona was left trembling in the wake of Hanariel's fury. Her mind raced with the words, the power behind them and what truths they may carry. No soothing words from her younger colleagues could ebb the chill that lingered as dark memories began to surface despite her mind's willful plea.

Hanariel's mind seemed to spin. He couldn't remember a time he'd grown so cross, especially at someone he'd never technically met. He felt a wave of relief as he approached the portal to the lower trunk. As the energy transported him down, he felt the anger replaced with something else. A cool sadness flooded his features as he exited into the busy corridor. Nightlife in the lower trunk was always a colorful and noisy experience. Restaurants, shops, and other distractions often proved too much for those who thought themselves pillars of morality. It was a place that rarely saw the presence of holy folk after sunset. But Hanariel was quickly becoming a welcome oddity, receiving polite and often friendly hellos from those who dwelled there. But that night all the lights simply blurred around like ribbons. The people were out of focus and the sound was muffled. It wasn't until he felt the familiar hand of Keesha Hazzad grace his single shoulder did everything snap back into focus.

"H-Han? You ok?" She sounded out of breath. Hanariel turned and anything he was feeling sank into nothingness; the sight of each raw scrape, bruise, and vicious cut on Keesha's form pooled into genuine concern within the ailing priest. The look caused her smile with swollen lips.

"Don't look at me like that, Mr. Peach fuzz." She laughed, gently tugging on significantly more hair than when last they met. Hanariel reached to stop the action. "What's wrong, you look pale."

"Its not important, what happened to you?"

"…lessons ran a bit late tonight. I was on my way to pick up some bandages when I saw you stomping around."

"Bandages? You need to see a healer." Han insisted, but Keesha shook her head.

"I don't want to deal with them and I know it takes every bit of "charity" in their hearts to deal with me, especially this late at night."

"You could have found me."

"What do you think I just did?"

"Right, come on then." He sighed and guided her to one of the public sitting areas. She smiled as he concentrated and her wounds began to shrink and heal as if they were never inflicted upon her in the first place. "It would take less time of you swallow your pride and see a proper healer."

"Hey, you do a damn good job you know. I should have a lot more scars than I do…is something bothering you. I've never seen the king of calm so riled up." Her question made his shoulder tense. He tightly closed his eyes and when he opened them again Keesha could see the swirling sickness within.

"I slapped a woman I've never met before in the face."

"Whoa-hoho! Now that sounds like a story. When we're done lets head over to the ribs place and you can tell me all about it." Keesha spoke with renewed energy. Han shook his head.

"No, not there. I don't want people overhearing."

"Alright, have a better place in mind?" Keesha asked. Han thought for a moment as he began healing a particularly nasty slash on her outer thigh. She winced a little but like the rest of her wounds, Han's light-touch made it as if the mark was never there.

"It's cool out tonight. There wouldn't be too many people on the outer decks. If you don't have a warm cloak I can fetch you one of mine."

"The outer deck is fine, if we can still get service this time of night. And don't worry about it; I have a warm coat I can throw on. Why don't we get changed and meet at East Deck Star-Shine in 20 minutes? They have great sweets. I'm in the mood for some Star-Shine Pie." Keesha mused. Hanariel agreed and once warmer garb was donned the pair met at the sparsely populated East Deck. The winds whipped with a slight chill but they were warmly greeted, seated, and handed two menus. Keesha looked around at the few other patrons before leaning in and speaking with a strained hush.

"So, you slapped a bitch. Tell me all about that!" Keesha spoke with a glee-filled smile. Han's look grew stony which made her smile falter. One of the servers came and took their drink and food orders and when the young man was out of earshot Hanariel cleared his throat.

"You know my visions? The ones with "Tori" in them?" Han asked. He deliberately changed Shandori's name each time he spoke about his visions to protect the sanctity of her past.

"Yeah, you mentioned you'd been getting a lot of them lately."

"Well, I just slapped her mother in the face."

"Wh-what? No way! She works here? Why would you do that?" Keesha stammered, lowering her tone when Hanariel motioned for her to do so.

"She does, she's one of the priestesses in the upper bough. I was so shocked I didn't really realize what I was doing until after I did it. I'm sure I'll have a fun time explaining myself to Lady Whitedeer…"

"So why'd you slap her?" Keesha half asked, half demanded as she took a sip of her drink. With a long sigh and a heavy heart, Hanariel began to speak of his latest vision…

Hanariel found himself in a women's changing room. He felt a slight heat in his cheeks and though his eyes shot to the dirty floor, they occasionally rose to steal a quick image of a mostly nude Elvin form. The night elf students, covered in the day's toils changed out of their standard issue armor and into throw-away clothes until they were able to return to their barracks to bathe. Many traveled far from their homes in Darnassus to the school, which was built in the relatively safe eastern part of Ashenvale. The banter was mostly light, words about what they planned to do that evening and other girlish gossip. One of the girls, a tall silver-haired warrior he'd come to know as "Falina" cast one of her fellow students a childish sneer.

"You were a little slow out there during drills, Sagesmoke. I saw a freshman get a easy strike in on you."

"Can it, Catwhisper."

"I'm sorry, I don't speak dwarf." Falina snorted; the action earned her a few eye rolls and more than a few approving sniggers from the younger girls. Shandori put her head down as she pulled up her soft leather boots allowing her long indigo hair to cover her flushed cheeks. Hanariel frowned at the snide comments that were often spoken in whispers. Shandori was years older than the other girls, yet several stages behind in her progress and received ample comment from her peers. It was something the weak bodied and often feminine-seeming Hanariel also experienced in his youth but unlike Shandori he had four well-respected brothers and a prestigious father as his constant defense. Hanariel's attention shifted as another sentinel entered the room. The sight of her elaborate armor and wise face caused the group to stand at attention. Even the normally rebellious Shandori stood with only one boot on.

"At ease…" Shandris Feathermoon spoke with her usual even tone. But something in her eyes made the girls hesitate. She motioned for them to sit and they slowly complied. Shandris was conducting an inspection of several outposts near the Barrens border and decided to visit the campus and get to know her future fellow soldiers against the enemies of the Night Elves. The general who lead the school greeted her warmly and informed her of the day's tasks. One task on the list was marked in red and it was one no soldier, no matter how steadfast and brave, would choose over a battle with the enemy. When she read the name on the dreaded paper, Shandris insisted she carry out the duty and collected the items she would need. Shandris stepped into the room with two sentinels at her side. She made an attempt to speak but she could not find any easy words to soften what was to come. The air was eerily silent as she reached into her side bag, pulling out a few affects and a note. A few of the girls who sat closer to where Shandris stood gasped at the sight of the pure white paper with a single red ribbon adorning it. Shandris scanned it twice, and made sure the name on the paper was correct. The person attached to the name was one she knew and proudly fought with in her battles against the horde. She once thought him invincible but the broken necklace and bloodstained relic in her hand told a different tale. Shandris had met the young daughter of her fallen friend many times, and knew her face well. She looked to the group, doing her best to remain calm and steady. Some of the girls felt their blood freeze in their bodies; others thought their hearts would leap from their mouths. Hanariel felt his own heart sink when Shandris took a step forward. The sound of each footstep added to the tension as the girls started moving out of her path, hoping and some even praying that the letter was not meant for them. She stopped in front of two girls, each leaning away. Shandris slowly extended the letter, which bore the name of Shandori's beloved father.

"I'm so sorry." Shandris whispered. Shandori took the note and shook her head, tears of denial flooding her vision as the eloquently inked letter stung her already fragile heart. She moved a hand to push the note away but the reality of what had happened would not be tossed aside. She uttered weak "no's" and closed her eyes. Perhaps when she opened them she'd be in her bed, her father scolding her for sleeping in. She could no longer hold back the choked sob as Shandris pulled her in for a hug. Hanariel took a step closer to the crying elf but felt himself pulled away. He barely had time to digest what he had just seen when the world around him went gray again but the sound of shouting quickly ushered him into another place. This time it was a lavishly decorated villa. The room was adored with the affects common to someone of Iona Sagesmoke's station. Hanariel saw Shandori, a look of utter disgust on her face, and Iona dressed in her finest traveling clothes.

"This is not up for discussion." Iona sighed, placing several salves and remedies in her medicine bag. Shandori's look barely scrapped the surface of the fuming rage within.

"It's the last thing you can do for him and you're leaving? You can't delay your trip just one day?" Shandori demanded, knowing that in one day's time she would be saying her final goodbye to her father's corpse.

"I'm needed in Icecrown. He would have understood." Iona coolly spoke. All emotion she may have been feeling was well hidden behind a mask of indifference. Hanariel was not quick to judge the action as Shandori did. He himself did not shed a single tear at his father's funeral, nor did others see him with anything but a pleasant smile in the days after he learned of his brothers' grim ends. But in his private moments he did find himself in the arms of grief.

"Of course he would have, he always put us first. For once, FOR ONCE, put us first too." Shandori half yelled half pleaded. Iona cast a snide, nearly scolding look.

"Selfish as ever, aren't we? Why are you, the high and mighty dropout lecturing me? Your sister is-"

"Elunis is here. She arrived yesterday or were you too busy with your own life to notice." Shandori interrupted. Hanariel winced at Iona's blatant jab. He pleaded, though in vein, for Iona to seize the opportunity she had to end the argument and try to make her hurting daughter understand. But instead, the wise words went unheard. No mothering words left her poisonous lips.

"Elunis is a fine druid. And since it was one of her own, let alone her father, that died she was more than likely granted a reprieve. I was not. You would understand all this if you actually made something of yourself." Iona coldly spoke. The icy tone only served to embolden the fire within Shandori as words blasted from her heat filled cheeks.

"This is just like you! Father loved me no matter what. He always told me I'd find my own path in life and never gave up on me. You, YOU dropped the mommy act as soon as they told you I wasn't cut out to be what you wanted me to be. Funny how our dinner dates and outings just sort of fell off or were you just too embarrassed to show me off anymore, like an old pet!" Shandori raged. Hanariel pleaded, as if his words might get through to the mother with lightning behind her eyes. Shandori's words were obviously more filled with pain than malice. She appeared to be the lost child in desperate need of a mother's guidance. But the past recorded could not be swayed by his noble intent and what happened next nearly caused his heart to stop. With a hateful sneer Iona delivered a crushing blow.

"Such strong words in the name of a man whose blood doesn't even run in your veins." The words seemed unreal. Shandori was taken off guard, mouth unable to form a response. "You've been a thorn in my side since birth. And while I tried to mold you into something more than a hapless accident, the ignorant fool coddled you. He made you into a lazy, self-content little idiot with no want to improve or become more than the nothing you've become. I have sacrificed much for you, Shandori. And you could not bear to see my own grief, my suffering in all this? There is a lot you don't know about the man that raised you but since you don't believe a word that comes from my mouth, ask your sister. She speaks no lies." Iona hissed. Hanariel stood, horrified at what had just transpired. He felt whatever understanding and compassion for Iona's position drain from his heart. Whether true or false the statements were meant as a fine crafted arrow, to destroy her own flesh. Shandori broke out of the stupor long enough to grab one of Iona's prized porcelain statues of Elune and throw it at her mother's head. Iona quickly ducked, wincing as the stature hit the wall with a chink and shattered on the floor. There were no words after that, just the fury of Shandori's rock hard fists striking her mother's dignified form. The priestess did not have time to react, barely getting her hands up in time to shield her face from the tidal assault.

When Shandori's rage abated, the teary-eyed daughter stood with blood on her knuckles. She stole her mother's medicine bag along with several bags of money and fled into the woods without a path before her. Hanariel wanted to run after her, to speak soothing words of comfort but something made him stay. The scene that he was to witness in the bedroom was still to come. He looked to the bruised and bloodied priestess with nothing but contempt in his heart. His memories and experiences with his youngest brother, Narlyn, and the tragedy that was his brief life clawed away any priestly bond for the woman. It was not long after Iona's beating did her younger daughter and her husband arrive at the home, to find her lying there, battered and crying.

"M-Mother? By Elune what happened?" Elunis asked as her husband, Morion helped the elder to her feet. Hanriel's anger and revulsion grew with every word that came from Iona's mouth. As Iona spun her tale, her children seemed caught in the fabric. Her retelling of the tale was surely based on truth but several key details were omitted. No mention of her vicious attack came, only the hint of an argument and an unstable girl's wrath. Honest looks of horror and dismay came to her daughter and son-in-law's faces. Morion shook his head.

"She can't be allowed to get away with hurting you like this. Especially with all that's happened. I will retrieve her!" Morion declared as he left to retrieve his trusty saber, Babygirl, and begin his hunt. Elunis stayed with her mother, face so confused and lost over the situation that her eyes seemed to grasp for any reason her sister would hurt their own mother. Hanariel found himself shouting at the girl but once again the vision began to fade. The gray world gave way to the real one and Hanariel did not find himself surprised to find a streaming wetness on his cheeks.

"Wow, what a bitch. Let me know what she looks like so I can slap 'er too." Keesha rolled her eyes as she took a savored bite of her favorite Star-Sine pie. Her keen brown eyes picked up something unspoken as she hastened to swallow. "But something tells me there's more to this than that. Anything you need to talk about?" Keesha offered. Hanariel could not meet her gaze but gave a little sigh before responding.

"I should not have struck her as I did because I let my own experiences color my judgment."

"Well you're alive. Stuff affects you. How could you not? Maybe it's 'the fates' way of making she gets hers, or something." Keesha smiled when her words brought his eyes up from the floor and to her own.

"I hope that's what it is. I sort of feel bad about not feeling worse about it, if that makes sense. It's just…I just lost it when I saw her act that way to her own child. I don't know if what she said was true or not but either way it was down right malicious and cruel. I've seen similar things happen before in my own family and it…" Hanariel couldn't finish the sentence. Bile in his throat and a choking feeling overtook any more words. Keesha was more than eager to fill the silence.

"People are cruel. I've seen things that'd turn your hair white. But you should feel any guilt over what you did. No one is really innocent. And if Whitedeer says anything to you, tell her what you told me. I'm sure she'd understand if she's as wise as you say she is." Keesha soothed, taking another bite of pie. Han picked up the complimentary second fork that came with Keesha's order and twirled it a little in his fingers.

"I just hope wherever Tori is, she's ok…I just wish I could see her, talk to her. Tell her that she IS what her father told her she is." Han sighed, reaching for Keesha's plate. He took a small corner, with a bit more crust than actual pie. "And I hope I never see that woman again…" Han popped the small piece of pie in his mouth and couldn't help but smile. "Its good."

"Told you. And hey, if being up there with the stuffies gets to be too much just come down here…I like it better in the trunk anyway. The roots can get a bit too dark at times."

"Oh?" Han asked, ears and curiosity perking up. Keesha shook her head.

"It's just really cold and dank down there. Everyone's mood is about the same. It's nice getting a break from that once in a while or twice in a while if I can."

"Yes, it's really the only place we can meet. It's a shame, I'd like to visit the roots sometime and I'm sure you'd love the branches, if you can ignore the people among them long enough." Han smiled and reached for another bite of pie. Keesha smirked.

"That could be fun. I could sneak you down there one day after lessons. From what I can tell Nightgaze goes into his room and locks himself in there 'til morning. He'd never know." Keesha whispered. Han smiled at the mischievous look on the warlock's face. She didn't seem too worried about jeopardizing her lessons despite the enhancements she'd made in the strength of her spells. Han leaned in a bit to reply.

"I'm afraid it would be more complicated to get you to the bough. Lady Whitedeer does night rounds every evening. But she's rarely ever off schedule. I'm sure we can pace ourselves to be where she isn't." Han nodded.

"Alright then. Meet me here at sunset tomorrow. We'll do the roots first and we can hit the bough afterwards, sound good?" Keesha offered, moving the plate with one last bite of delicious pie to her table-mate. Han scooped up the morsel without hesitation and devoured it.

"Sounds wonderful."

"An interesting development…" Orifiel smiled and handed her lover a glass of wine. "I'll have to skip my rounds that day, give them a bit more time up there."

"Do you suppose we should wrap up their lessons?" Seth mused aloud, taking the glass and enjoying a fine taste of red liquid. Orifiel shook her head.

"Not yet. They still have a lot to learn." Orifiel answered, taking a seat beside the highborn and resting her head on his shoulder. "But I think we have reason to be optimistic." She smiled moving her glass to gently clink against his. Seth moved his glass to bridge the gap before taking another sip.

"That is good. What about the shamans? Are they progressing on schedule?"

"Yes, I can not BELIEVE they sent Thrall, THE Thrall to help us." Orifiel blushed, and did her best not to giggle and kick her feet. Seth rolled his eyes.

"Fangirl…"

"Oh I am not! Thrall's just that awesome. And with his help we'll be done here in no time. No more hiding, no more sneaking." Orifiel sighed, checking the time. "Damn, I've got 10 minutes until I have to get back to my rounds…"

"Well then, let's make it count." Seth declared, putting down his wine glass in favor of something far more satisfying.