Retribution - One

One

First Steps

          It’s so strange, how different this city is from our hometown, when the two are so closely related. Back home, in Auberdine, when I stand in the square and look up, I’m greeted by the blue open sky above me. The air is cool and crisp and fresh, scented with the sweet earthy smell of the forest and the salt of the sea that happily claps against the shore. Here, as I tilt my head upward, the only thing I see is a thick canopy of trees, basked in the indigo glow of the lights that dot the walkways, the rays of the mid-day sun only able to penetrate through in scattered spots amongst the leaves. I frown, averting my gaze from above and glancing to my brother at my side. He too looks around, wonder in his eyes and the hint of a smile on his lips.
          Though we are both 12 years old, this is our first time in Darnassus, and now it’s going to be our home for the foreseeable future.


          With a start, I realize that we’ve both lagged behind our parents; I punch my brother in the arm and then sprint to catch up with them. Our mother looks down at me and smiles, her round youthful face lighting up with an odd mixture of pride and sadness that her children will be leaving home to study their individual vocations of choice here in Darnassus. I take her hand, just as I did when I was younger, in an attempt to ease her pain. Secretly, on the inside, I feel just as nervous and sad as she does. Though my home of Auberdine is not far from here, I know that I’m going to miss seeing my parents each day.
          “Here’s Fredd’s stop,” my father says suddenly, halting at the end of a pale stone bridge that crosses over the shallow rivers winding through Darnassus and leading to the pillared temple on the other side. Freddwynn, my twin brother with hair as white as mine and a taller frame, stops in his footsteps and stares down the walkway, appearing both scared and excited at the same time. He chose to become a Priest years ago, spending the time since learning what it meant to be a healer, yet with the first step towards his training ahead of him, he freezes. “Come on,” our father urges, patting him on the shoulder and encouraging him forward. “I’ll bring you to the temple while your mother brings Ala to the Arch Druid.”
          My heart leaps into my throat; instantly, tears begin to form in my eyes. I’ve never been apart from Freddy before. I make to run towards him and fling my arms around him and cry that I don’t want to be parted, but my mother squeezes my hand reassuringly and holds me back.
          “Remember what we talked about, Ala?” she asks in a soft voice.
          Reluctantly, I nod, and swipe away the tears. I promised her that I would be brave, and that I would remember that, though we will now be living apart, Freddy and I will be just across the city from each other. My free hand goes to the small metal token strung around my neck by thinly braided leather. It’s the symbol of Priests, a tiny white and blue staff with a wing on either side of it and a small sparkling gem set into the middle. He turns towards me and when he sees my fingers around the pendant, he smiles and brings his hand to the one around his own neck: a tiny glimmering bear’s paw, painted brown and encircled by a line of vibrant emerald. Last night, when I had crawled into his bed and the two of us had sat awake riddled by anxiety about today, we had exchanged the necklaces that had been given to each of us on our last birthday. “Now, even though we’ll be apart,” he had said as he tied the necklace around my neck, “we’ll always have a piece of each other.”
          Presently, I pull myself free of my mother’s grasp and lunge forward, embracing him tightly around the middle. I blink hard to push back the tears; I won’t break a promise to my mother by crying. We don’t let go of each other until our parents tell us that it’s time to stop stalling and move on to our new respective homes. Regrettably, I pry my arms away from him, give him one last longing look, and then turn away to be lead across town by my mother.
          “Look, Ala,” she says, pointing upwards as we pass by the front of the bank. I follow her finger up to the tree to find that the enormous trunk, hollowed out to accommodate the bank, has been carved into the shape of a bear. Tree limbs grow from its’ back, expanding into the shape of an eagle; the tree branches reach out over the city as the bird’s wings. I stop and stare at it in awe. “Isn’t it beautiful?” Quickly, I nod in agreement, and then fall back into step behind my mother.
          My new home turns out to be tucked away into a corner of the city, worked into the hollow middles of a group of trees in a fashion similar to the bank. The trunks have been stripped of branches and the bark smoothed to a polished appearance, with windows carved out periodically up the length. As we approach, we pass a small pen of tigers and my mother nods politely to the Night Elf standing by the fence. I gaze at the tigers longingly; one of my greatest wishes is to someday have a tiger of my own.
          There is no door that closes over the opening of the largest tree, and once we step aside, we are surrounded by the faint smell of sharp incense and fresh wood. Stairs wind up into the trunk in a dizzying manner, crafted from the inside of the tree and solid as though it were made of stone. A Druid standing near the bottom of the stairs greets us with a nod.
          “How may I help you?” he asks, his voice thick with a Darnassian accent. I absorb the sight of him - his lithe and prideful posture; his grass-coloured hair pulled back from his face and braided neatly down his back; the leather gear worn tight around his form; the staff at his back and dagger at his side that label him as a Druid. A smile grows on my face; I want to, someday, be as strong of a Druid as he appears to be.
          “I’m here to deliver my daughter to Fandral,” my mother explains, earning a momentary look of disapproval from the Druid for using the Arch Druid’s name so casually. Neither of my parents have ever been the type to speak as properly and formally as other Night Elves would like them to. In Auberdine, not many seem to mind, but I have a feeling that here in Darnassus, it would be wise to properly form my words before opening my mouth.
          I shrug. I can’t imagine that I’ll ever make much of an effort to edit myself like that.
          The Druid, having recovered from his moment of disapproval, asks us to follow and guides us up the stairs. We come to what I had assume is the topmost point in the tree, my head spinning from the curled staircase, and I’m surprised to find that there is another doorway leading out to a second long flight of stairs. This one winds around the exterior of the tree and from this height, I can see nearly all of Darnassus spread out beneath us. Though the city is overshadowed by trees and dim cool tones, it is quite breathtaking when you can see the entirety of it.
          We stop at a closed door at the top of the tree and the Druid knocks, waiting for an answer from within before opening it. The room beyond the door is circular, following the line of the tree trunk, and modestly furnished with a few side tables and chairs placed strategically about the floor. Windows line the walls, separated by lit lanterns hung between them. Standing by one of the windows along the far wall, staring out into the city, is who I assume to be Arch Druid Fandral Staghelm. Even with his back turned to us, his stature and the regal feathered gear he wears shouts volumes for the pride he carries with him. When he turns to us, a stolid stern look on his face, I realize that I’m holding my breath and slowly exhale, immediately straightening my back and squaring my shoulders in an attempt to not disappointment him with my tiny form.
          This man of magnificence is to be my teacher.
          “Another student?” he asks of the Druid, not greeting me or my mother, but instead addressing the Night Elf as though neither of us are here.
          The Druid nods. “Alatariel Silversky.”
          My heart leaps into my throat as the Arch Druid’s eyes fall on me. They’re yellow, so alike how I expect a panther’s would be, and they trail up the length of me with strict inspection. “She seems...young.”
          “She’s twleve,” my mother offers, her hand on my back pushing me forward for reviewal. My legs, like lead, somehow take a few steps towards the Arch Druid.
          “Yes,” he says after a few moments of silence. “Young.” He turns from us and for a heart-stopping moment, I think that he is denying me entry into his tutelage. But then he speaks, his back to us once again, and I feel my spirits rise. “She appears to be eager, however, and strong.” Though I try to remain stoic in an attempt to live up to his summary of me, my lips pull into a wide childish smile at his words. I’ve been accepted. I’m going to become a Druid.
          My mother nods her thanks before taking me by the shoulders and looking down at me with a serious expression; the look doesn’t suit her round youthful face. “You’re to go with him now,” she says, motioning towards the Druid who stands nearby, waiting to guide me to my new home. “I have a few things I need to speak to the Arch Druid about.”
          I nod, though the knot in my throat stops me from being able to say anything. I want to hug my mother and tell her that I’ll miss being at home, but the thought of appearing as the weak child that I am stops me. I want to be strong. I want to become a proud Druid that can hold her chin high.
          With one last glance at my mother, I leave the room being the Druid and though the sound of the closing door put a pang of longing in my chest, I suppress it and follow him once again down the winding stairs and back out into the city. We don’t go far, however, turning into another nearby hollowed out tree with matching twisting staircases. Wordlessly, he leads me up the stairs to the first door that branches off into a room, where we’re greeted by several other young Night Elves that have been plucked from their families and sent here to learn the ways of the Druids. I quickly count them as we step into the room; there’s five others, two females and three males, and each one of them looks to be older than me. They all sit around the room, some on the bunks that will serve as our beds, others at a small table tucked into the corner. Their faces flick over to me as we enter and I feel my cheeks flush.
          “This is Alatariel,” the Druids says to them. “She will be the last to join your ranks.”
          Several of my fellow students nod to me, and one issues a “good morning” as a greeting. I smile and try to seem as confident as possible, when in reality I’m shaken by how much larger they all are; I’m easily the youngest and smallest in the bunch. I’m suddenly struck with the mystery of how I managed to secure a spot amongst them.
          “Tomorrow,” the Druid continues, “you will be summoned to the Arch Druid.” He steps out of the room and stands in the doorway looking in on us. “Until then, I suggest you familiarize yourselves with the city and catch up on any reading on which you may be behind.” He nods, closes the door, and is gone.
          The room goes silent and I feel the eyes of the others on me. I could not feel more awkward than I do right now.
          A wave of gratefulness washes over me when one of the two girls stands up from her seat and approaches me with her hand offered, which I shake. “My name is Miril,” she says, her voice even-toned and smooth. The angular cut of her face with almond-shaped eyes that gleam a piercing ice blue tell me that she has already passed into her teen years – I guess around fourteen or fifteen – and were it not for the smile on her face, her appearance would not read as friendly. As it is, with her navy hair pulled taut into a long straight ponytail and her figure swathed in a simple tailored dark tunic and pair of pants, she comes across as rather stern and introverted. Yet she gestures to the bunk furthest from the door with an air of social grace. “That is your bed.”
          “Thanks,” I say, nodding my head and then crossing the room towards the bed. At the foot of the mattress stands a chest made of heavy wood, with a latch of silver and a matching handle on either side. I open it and inside find an assortment of plain clothing, one outfit of which matches Miril’s current ensemble, and am inwardly heartbroken that, by all appearances, I won’t be allowed to wear my own clothing. I now understand the reason that my mother had told me to pack very little, and the small bag of possessions strung across my shoulder suddenly feels depressingly light. Trying to suppress my disappointment, I kneel down in front of the chest and reach inside, flipping through the clothing with a growing sense of foreboding. Nearly all of the articles I’m meant to wear seem too large for me.
          “They are not the most fashionable of clothing,” comes a voice to my left. I look up to find the other girl standing next to me, her round grey eyes reflecting the smile on her face. “But we will just have to make due.” I push myself to my feet and shake her hand; she stands much taller than me and must be at least sixteen. “Kahyr,” she introduces herself, bowing her head slightly in a greeting, causing her sky coloured hair to fall in her face; she impatiently tucks the front of it back. “I am happy that our last classmate is female.” She glances at Miril, who has joined us. “We were not happy to be outnumbered.” From behind me, the boys chuckle amongst each other, yet say nothing.
          Miril, shaking her head and smiling at the folly of the male section of our class, gestures for Kahyr and me to follow. “Come on,” she says, crossing the room with both of us in tow. “We should familiarize ourselves with Darnassus, just as was suggested.”
          I nod in agreement. As I follow my two new-found friends out of our quarters and the door closes behind me, I can’t stop my mind from wandering to Freddwynn. Where is he now? What is he doing? I smile.
          I wonder if he’s getting along as well as I am.