"Did you see? It's a Blood Elf, I'm sure it's a Blood Elf!"
"Yes, an elf. So what? You're acting like it's the first time you see one of the long-ears."
The whispers had been following Celysiel ever since she had entered the library of Dalaran that morning. It was not a grand building, though the woman whom had instructed her had claimed it to be one of the many houses of knowledge in the city of mages. The apprentice was not bothered by the fact that access would not be granted in anything greater just yet. To start small would be to rule out options early in her journey of knowledge.
Welcomed by a spacious chamber, she had soon realised her error. Even if the library seemed smaller than others, that did not change the fact that it was still enormous for one individual to explore alone in one evening. Golden sunlight would make its way through the glass of the large windows to illuminate the area. The rays were bright, creating pathways of warm light into the atmosphere, before reaching the middle. There, one would find two narrow, yet long tables that cut the room in two. To each side, bookcases joined the walls, though everything was coated in books. There was no space for the woodwork decorating the walls to breathe. In the distance, three steps led to an upper section, which was secluded from the rest by marble railing. If the knowledge hosted there was more eminent than the rest, the girl could not know, but she had first wandered there, aiming to find out.
Other than herself, there was only an elderly Kirin Tor mage behind a counter at the entrance who gave Celysiel nothing more than a nod and a smile, before hiding behind her long, crooked hat. Two men also occupied a tiny part of the table at the right, while another was wandering among the bookcases near them. Their characteristics remained unknown to her, since she did not care to really observe them, though little could she have known at the time that the sentiment was not mutual. It was only minutes after a book had been selected that their frantic whispers reached her. They thought that they were being quiet, that she would not listen. They had underestimated an elf's ears.
"Don't be so daft, Percy! It's not just any elf, it's a Blood Elf!"
"So she has green eyes, what's the big deal?"
"She's from the Horde, she might know about V-"
"Damn straight, she might know about your girlfriend!"
One of them must have hit the other with something as heavy as a tome, for the sound was not kind. The victim whined lowly, eager to soothe the aching spot on his head, most likely, by rubbing it gently.
"She is not my girlfriend! She is just a friend. Not that you would know, you pee yourself whenever a girl even looks at you."
"Are you sure that we're not talking about you here?"
"Very funny."
"I thought it was funny."
"And I think you're an idiot." the other replied. It must have been the end of their conversation there, for their voices were not heard again. Instead, the other sound to be detected next was a chair being dragged across the floor - no, it was two. The steps of heavy steps, heavier than any elf's, then hit the polished stone and just for a moment, one wonderful moment, Celysiel hoped that the two annoying individuals would collect their books and leave the library in order to enjoy their treacherous city's warm sun. It was louder that their steps would sound however, not fainter. No matter how much the young elf wished the two away, the sounds that their clumsy bodies were making were ringing closer. And closer.
It was not much later than that when she could spot, even if not directly, two bodied at the other end of the table by which she was sitting. The urge to release a sigh was great, but the apprentice managed to hold back as she slowly looked up at the two. One need not be overly familiar with the race of Humans in order to tell that they were both young, perhaps younger than Celysiel, though still near her age. They could not be more different. The only characteristic which they had in common was that both of them had brown hair. Their cuts were short and messy, as if someone could not get enough of ruffling their tufts. They were also both wearing violet robes with Dalaran's golden eye.
The one to the right was somewhat short, though taller than Celysiel. One could barely spot his neck, due to the amount of fat hanging from his chin. He was quite chubby, hiding his chestnut eyes behind a large pair of circular spectacles, though curls of dark brown were getting in the way. A book was held in his large hand, while the other was rubbing the side of his head; he was the one to have possibly been hit earlier.
As for the culprit, he was tall and lean, without any muscle to boast about. His features were well-proportioned, though somewhat round and childish. A brown belt kept the robe secured around his body -it was too large for him- while a glint shined in his green eyes. He was confident, a trouble-maker and about to speak. Celysiel did not want to hear.
"Hi." was all he said, in the common tongue. It was all that the young elf needed to hear in order to turn back to her book, no matter how pointless further search in it seemed. She could almost taste the surprise of the two boys towering above her, see them with the eyes of her imagination look at each other in confusion.
"Maybe she doesn't understand us." the chubby one whispered to his friend.
"Shut up, Percy." mumbled the other. Celysiel could still feel their eyes locked on her.
"Maybe she can't speak." suggested the other again. That made the apprentice twitch.
"She can speak and she can understand." muttered the elf in her mother tongue, one which they were not likely to comprehend. "It might just be that she wishes not to speak to a lesser, selfish race."
"So far, it is not us who are acting in a selfish and arrogant manner, that way proving our race to be lesser." came the reply from the taller of the two young men. His words were a beautiful melody as he addressed Celysiel in Thalassian, his accent flawless. Was it magic? The caress of arcane was nowhere to be found. This was his own feat.
That drew the girl's gaze up to meet that of the other. Surprise, disbelief, they all painted her expression as she looked into these emerald eyes of the Kirin Tor youth. "You... You speak..." Her voice possessed nothing of its earlier sharpness. For once more, speech came in Thalassian.
The reply of the boy was a nod. He placed his palms onto the polished surface of the long table, leaning closer. The sunlight falling on his back gave his brown hair a slight copper tint at the ends, making the Human's appearance a little more pleasant. Just a little. "I do." he uttered in the elven language. "It is no trick, I promise. My father was a Crusader, he served by the side of your kin. They were eager to teach."
It was not only the fact that he spoke in Thalassian, or that his father, if all said were true, had been a valiant defender of the living against the Scourge, but also that shadow of sorrow in his bright eyes when he spoke of that part of his family which softened the heart of the girl, making her relent. She knew that expression, certain that another could see it on her face when she spoke of her own parents. The young man's father was dead.
"I apologise for my manners." she said eventually, abandoning the beauty of her own tongue to speak in the commonly known one. It was not as gentle or melodic, but Celysiel could tell that the one with the spectacles could not speak Thalassian, like his friend. He was staring at her somewhat frozen, perhaps because he just realised that all said earlier was understood. An apology did not come from him though.
"We were just... We were wondering..." he said, but the taller one shook his hand and then gestured to himself.
"I am Evander. Evander Johnson. This is Percival Foster, but you can call him Percy." He then offered a hand towards Celysiel, as if he expected her to introduce herself, but that never happened. As he stared, she battled against a thousand words.
"What of your titles?" she finally asked.
Evander titled his head to the side, while Percy turned to look at him. "Titles?"
"Titles." the girl nodded, gesturing towards the two. "You must surely possess some. Titles are required, for if I were to call you by name alone, it would imply... Familiarity." How many times had that sentence been repeated? Yet Celysiel never grew tired of repeating it, as if she had accepted her place as the one who would instill decorum in the world.
"Well... How about mages?" suggested Evander tentatively.
"Archmages." whistled Percy in awe.
That let a shine appear in the taller boy's green eyes. "How about Lords?"
"Dukes!"
"Admirals!"
"Commanders!"
"Rulers of the cos-"
"I am afraid that all they are is apprentices." interjected a third voice behind the two, putting an end to their childish fantasies. A hand was planted on one of their shoulders as behind the two rose the figure of yet another man. He too was dressed in the robe of the Kirin Tor, though his own was somewhat more refined. In spite of being older than them, he remained young, perhaps a year older than the elf, if not the exact same age. Unlike the two though, he was not someone who could be easily forgotten easily. Even if he was not the fairest of them all, his appearance was quite pleasant.
He was tall, though not in the same way that made Evander seem like he had not eaten for days, even if he lacked a muscular built. His hair too was brown and messy, though brigher, carryinng a golden tint as it was caressed by the sunlight. Kind, sea-blue eyes looked at the girl and the troublemakers as the young man smiled. He could be a charmer if he so wished, but he appeared to prefer a life of academic knowledge and proper manners.
"Apprentices Johnson and Foster, to be specific." he clarified, ignoring Percy's whining.
A nod of gratitude followed Celysiel as she looked at the stranger, her saviour, with gratitude. "Thank you." she whispered, meaning every word of it. "Who may you be?"
The stranger raised a hand to brush away an unruly tuft, but all in vain. It returned between his eyes, making his smile slightly apologetic. "James William Lemar, Arcanist."
"Newly appointed arcanist." Evander pointed out, as if she expected Celysiel to congratulate him.
"Assistant of Master Maharis." Percy popped in.
"Our mentor."
"But he's our friend, you can call him James."
"You can call him anything."
"You can call him sweethea-"
"I think you two have been helpful enough." James stopped them for once more, though his tone was gentle. He turned back to Celysiel, bowing his head. "You may call him Arcanist Lemar. Now, may I ask who you are in return?"
A firm nod came from the apprentice, one that shook the alabaster locks ornamenting her shoulders. "Apprentice Ashfury. Celysiel Ashfury."
"Well, it is nice to meet you, apprentice Ashfury." James smiled. "Student of the arcane arts, I assume? Is that why you are in Dalaran?" His expression was kind, something unexpected, since the Kirin Tor were meant to be demons in the girl's mind, a tool of the Alliance.
"Student of the dark arts." she replied, lowering her tone. It was impossible to utter these words without turning to look around, as if she expected the sunlight to materialize in Whitestep's Dawnstones. It never came to be so though, for the soft rays remained nothing but a path of warm, welcoming light on the cherry wood that coated the walls. Celysiel heaved a sigh, while above her, the news offered mixed reactions. Percy took a step back, James drowned, but Evander raised an eyebrow and smirked.
It was the oldest of the tree who spoke, while the two apprentices behind him remained silent, lost in their thoughts. "I... See. Interesting. I cannot say it is a common thing to see individuals with such interests in our libraries... Fel?" he asked, though failed to make it clear if he was asking what she was specifically studying, or interested in finding. "Demons?"
"I..."
"No, no, don't get me wrong." he hurried to say. "It is just that you will not find detail about these matters here."
"It is not what I am interested in." the elf admitted, while her left hand passed beneath the book on the table in front of her, in order to lift the pages resting on the leatherbound cover and force the tome shut. The impact gave birth to a low sound, followed by the rise of thousands of motes of dust dancing under the sunlight, though most remained blind to the naked eye. "No, I am looking for an individual."
The frown of confusion remained on the young arcanist's features, but he nodded regardless. "That... That is fair." he responded, though his tone betrayed that he could not understand why search for a person would require the floating city's tomes. "Is the one you are looking for alive?"
"I hope he is."
"That won't help you in that case." Evander chimed in, pointing at the tome resting in front of Celysiel. "But good ol' asking..."
"... Asking people like us..." added Percy, whose reluctance had begun to fade.
"Who is that person?" asked James with unabated curiosity.
She could answer. Say the name and hope for the best. There was no reason to be deluded though and expect that fate would smile at her, perhaps pity the poor apprentice who had lost her locket, succumbing to weakness for once more. At best, the three youngsters would be unable to offer an answer, but the worst case? Would they notify someone, let them know that a Blood Elf was seeking knowledge which she was not meant to on -for now at least- neutral ground? But what other choice was there? Every attempt made was constantly resulting in failure; what else could she do other than shoot blindly and hope for something good to come out of it?
Celysiel took a deep breath, knowing that as soon that came, she would not be able to preserve the silence for too long. Until the very last minute, billions of thoughts crossed her mind, thoughts of caution, thoughts of damnation, thoughts of consequences, none of them truly helpful. It was too late though. Her actions could not be changed.
"I am looking for a man who has served in the army of the Alliance." she replied calmly, though her hands sought the rim of the table, holding onto it tightly. "With the war against the Burning Legion raging and the part Dalaran played for both factions, I thought this would be a good place to start."
"Books will certainly not help you there." Evander mumbled behind James' back, crossing his arms against his chest, but the newly appointed arcanist raised a hand, as if to tell him to remain silent. His eyes did not lose their warmth, nor did his stance become hostile, though caution was suddenly marking his behaviour.
"The Horde and the Alliance may be at war, but to take part in it is not our place." James calmly said, raising his chin in a slightly authoritative manner. He could be a leader one day, a grand Archmage and understanding commanding figure, but those days would be far away. "We cannot offer any aid to matters regarding a feud between enemies."
It was not an unexpected response, so why did fuel Celysiel's rage? Suddenly, the desire to accomplish her goal came second to reminding the three Kirin Tor of their people's tolerance towards the slaughter and imprisonment of Blood Elves at least twice in the past, the fact that they were not always willing to remain neutral, not if that aided the Alliance which they secretly revered. To hold her tongue was not easy, but she managed to do so by pressing her lips tightly and shaking her head. Clarity found her. It was like a breeze of cold air caressing her cheek before slipping in her mind, building a wall between logic and emotion. For once more, it was hers.
"It regards no feud, for I do not wish to harm the one I am looking for." the apprentice replied calmly. Under the table, her hands relinquished their hold of it, falling on her lap. Without the locket hanging from her neck though, it was impossible to find a fitting place for them to rest. "I seek his aid and wish to aid, since I suspect he might be the only one holding information regarding my... Research."
It was dificult to convince the three Kirin Tor, though was it surprising at times where war was about to erupt and consume all? Percy was fidgeting uncomfortably, while James retained his frown. Only Evander looked at Celysiel in an encouraging manner, as if he had no doubt that she was speaking the truth.
"What is your research about?" James finally asked. His form fell forward as he lifted a leg to set it on the bench by the long table, arms placed on his knee, leaning against it. Following his example, the two apprentices behind him adopted a stance of relaxation as well. To his left, Percy took a seat, while to his right, Evander started ruffling his own hair. It was as if the one in the middle was their leader, elected in silence and trusted without question.
If their stances spoke of confidence and the intention to listen though, the girl's was one of tension. Every minute that went by, it became clear that it was impossible to hold certain matters for herself. She would have to spin the tale. Or at least a tale.
"My research... My research regards spawns of the Void." she replied, taking a deep breath. "Ever since an encounter with one of them."
All it took was the last sentence for a shift in the tides. No longer was there any reluctance from the three to trust the citizen of Silvermoon. The arcanist in the middle widened his eyes, even if just a little, in which a peculiar shine had made its appearance. Curiosity? No, it was far more than that. Expectation, recognition? The two at his side turned to look at him, though Evander was sending glances towards her every now and then, as if tempted to speak. He left that for the eldest. "What kind of spawns of the Void?" he asked, his tone encouraging, urging. Perhaps even somewhat demanding.
"Faceless-"
"Fuck yeah!" Evander could not hide his smirk anymore. He snapped his fingers before closing his hand into a fist, shooting it upwards triumphantly.
"Language." mumbled Celysiel and James in unison, before exchanging a glance. For a moment, it encouraged her.
Undeterred, Evander lowered his arm in order to wrap it around James' shoulders tightly, slightly pulling him close. The young arcanist did not complain, though he slouched, twitching lightly. His companion did not notice. He was over the moon, as if he had just won a dozen of bags filled with gold. "Ah, you see here Ashfury, you've come to the right place. Yes, we'll help you!"
"Evander, cut-"
"Isn't that right James?"
"If you could just-"
"For you see" the boy continued, smirking relentlessly. "James here is also conducting his own research ever since his own encounter with one of these beasts a year ago..."
"A year and two months-"
Evander wafted his free hand, as if time truly did not matter. "By the side of your people no less. One of which iss a very dear friend of mine."
"His girlfriend." Percy interjected, a thumb shot at Evander, who shook his head calmly, rather than hitting his friend with a tome again.
"Not my girlfriend. However, I sense we can all be friends here and come to an agreement."
"Evan, will you just stop it?" James protested, to no avail. The only thing that he managed to earn was to be released from the youngster's grasp, all in front of the eyes of the confused Celysiel.
"You... You have aided my people before?" she asked the arcanist, learning a little closer to him. His response was but a nod as he tried to reclaim his balance. A hand brushed his hair as the apprentice held onto the chance to assail him with further questions. "You encountered one of them? During the war against the Burning Legion? But how? Where? What happened?"
James raised a hand, motioning down, as if asking her to calm down, while he was clearly trying to do the same. "Look, yes... Yes, I did. I'll explain and you may then tell me about your research. Then, we will see if I can help you. I will ask the masters regarding the individual you are looking for. Secrecy maintained. I can make absolutely no promises though, for if they know nothing, I can also offer nothing."
"And you can also help my friend." added Evander, unwilling to yield.
Was there any other better choice? Celysiel doubted, though she did not intend to share the truth with the trio of the Kirin Tor. Reluctantly, she nodded, while her mind was already divising schemes and lies. It was gently that she nodded. placing her hopes on Arcanist Lemar. "Is it possible to find out today? I am returning to Silvermoon this afternoon."
Slowly, James shook his head. "I am afraid not. You will have to give me more time to that and come back to our city another day." he replied, flashing a confident, though somewhat apologetic smirk. "All good things to those who wait."
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