Elune Above

The New Quest August 6, 2010

It had been months since the dream, yet it still constantly plagued her mind.  Myssidia sat silently on the cool, polished marble of the benches within the Temple of the Moon, waiting patiently for an audience with the High Priestess.  Acolytes quietly shuffled around her, talking quietly and gaping open mouthed at the priestess waiting patiently for Lady Tyrande.  Myssidia Silverbloom, the only daughter to a rich merchant killed centuries ago during the first incursion of the Burning Legion, had become one of the untold heroes of the current wars.  She had, however, not been seen in the Temple of the Moon for many years now.  She was one of the few night elves most outspoken of Malfurion’s poor decision to allow the World Tree’s destruction, and had not been seen in the Temple since the end of the Third War.  Lost in thought, she didn’t notice Shandris’ arrival until hearing the the captain quietly clearing her throat.

“Oh, forgive me, Shandris.  I was lost in thought,” She stood slowly, smoothing out the wrinkles in her ceremonial robes before smiling at the captain.

“No harm done, Lady Silverbloom,” Shandris’ tone was cold and calculating. “The High Priestess will see you now,”  Unlike the others, she was not impressed by Myssidia’s sudden appearance, nor did she endorse the fact that her Mistress would soon be entertaining one of the most vocal dissenters of Malfurion Stormrage.  Myssidia smiled at her gently and nodded, waiting for her escort to begin the stroll to the High Priestess’ audience chambers.  The way was short, but lined with eager acolytes straining their ears to possibly hear the purpose of the strange visit.  At times Myssidia would raise one hand toward an acolyte in blessing.  These acts, however, simply caused Shandris’ mood to sour even more.  The Sentinel captain began to walk with a quicker gait, one that the priestess trailing behind her had trouble keeping up with.

As the audience chamber came into view, a feeling of peace fell over them all.  Tyrande was surely Elune’s strongest and most devout follower.  This was evident in the pure holy energy that flowed from the High Priestess.  Shandris stopped and turned to Myssidia.  When the High Priestess was in this state, she knew better than to interrupt.  Myssidia understood and bowed deeply to the captain.  She wished Krikket was there.  Her friend always kept her sane in tense situations such as these.  She knew, however, that this would be strenuous, and, though the Night Elves were the closest allies the Draenei had, the high-ranking shaman’s presence would not be appreciated within the Temple of the Moon.

She entered the audience chamber and sank to her knees under the holy weight of the High Priestess’ meditations.  Unlike Shandris, though, Tyrande bore no ill will towards Myssidia.  She simply opened her eyes and as the golden light that had been cascading from them faded into their typical sharp, silver color, the visiting priestess felt the power to stand back up.

“Ishnu-alah, priestess,” Tyrande practically whispered in a soft, yet strong voice.

“Ishnu-dal-dieb, High Priestess,” Myssidia choked out, “I come to you, guided by the hand of our Mother.  She told me to come, and so I come to this corruption of a tree to find what work Elune needs of me.”

Tyrande smiled and walked swiftly over to Myssidia where she embraced her warmly.  Myssidia returned the embrace and laughed lightly.  Maybe the situation would not devolve like she had assumed it would.  Tyrande pulled away from her and looked into her eyes.

“Thero’shan, you have become a most wonderful priestess.  I was worried for you after not having seen nor heard from you for many years.  That’s not to say I didn’t hear of you.  Your work and diligence among the humans of the alliance is noteworthy.  Your assistance in the purge of Karazhan is specifically the reason I believe the Mother Moon has led you home.” Myssidia chafed at her teacher’s words, but understood the sentiment.  Teldrassil would never be her home, but where the High Priestess resided would always be a place of refuge.  Tyrande smiled and began to walk slowly towards a small fountain at the western edge of the chamber, and Myssidia followed merely a few steps behind.

“I listen, High Priestess”

“Thero’shan, I fear there are dark things happening across the sea.  And no, not in Northrend.  Elune is sending me dreams… visions of the Swamp of Sorrows.  It hasn’t been revealed what the problem is; however, I know something there requires immediate attention.  The choice is yours,” Tyrande sat on the cold, marble fountain and looked up at her student and smiled once more, “should you decide to go, I have an escort ready for you.  A bright young warrior named Shermaan Oakrunner.”

“I will do it.  If I learned anything from you, shan’do, it is that Elune takes us where we are needed most,”