Eye of the Beholder

Four.

Ominous clouds, tinged with cool shades of grey, rolled in from the distance. With them, came the sinister rumble of thunder, and blinding flashes of lightning. Kalimdor's weather varied, depending on where one was on the continent, but Suramar's climate was generally pleasant. It was the reason so many of the night elven population lived in the capital. As of late however, the weather had been vastly different.

Eliana could not remember the last time that it had been so disagreeable. Decades ago, perhaps? She stood on the veranda of the Temple of the Moon, shielded by the eaves above her, watching the overly large drops of rain patter on the stone plaza below. The moisture darkened the surface of the rock, turning her surroundings into a bleak, gloomy place, and she found that it looked much like how she felt.

Since the Festival of the Moon, some weeks past, she had not spoken to, nor seen Cytheas, a single time.

A room in the initiate wing had finally become available, and so she'd moved her things from her father's house and now resided at the Temple. However, she couldn't imagine that her father would not have informed her friend of the new development, and yet still, he had not come by. Granted, she had been the one to deny his advances and abandoned him there, on the edge of the forest that night. But she could not find fault in her anger, and so she did not apologize.

Then again, one had to see the person in order to do so.

"Eliana? We are starting our lessons now," a voice called out to her, and Eliana turned to see one of her fellow sisters beckoning for her to come back inside.

She nodded in response and pushed off of the column she had been leaning on, trailing behind the other female as they made their way into the classroom.

When she took her seat next to Tyrande, the navy-haired female smiled at her and Eliana tried to return the gesture, though it fell flat in comparison. Tyrande frowned when she noticed Eliana's uncharacteristic demeanor and opened her mouth to speak, but the High Priestess entered the room to begin their lesson.

Both girls faced forward again and over the course of the next few hours, Eliana kept her eyes focused on her notes and the High Priestess. As much as she tried to concentrate on the High Priestess' lecture, thoughts of Cytheas and what had happened between them at the festival kept haunting her, and she sighed in frustration as her pencil scribbled across the paper in front of her.

She knew how Cytheas felt, of course. He had made his emotions blatantly obvious ever since he'd confessed to her. What she couldn't understand however, was how it was so impossible for him to understand the concept of giving her time. They had known each other since they were young and because of that, he knew her better than anyone else, save her father. Or so she had thought.

When she was pressured into action, she tended to turn tail and run the other way--Cytheas knew this. He'd seen it happen first hand, multiple times throughout their younger years. She needed to be able to reach a decision on her own, in her own time. Why Cytheas thought it was a good idea to pressure her into admitting feelings for him, when he knew that she harbored feelings for Illidan, was what frustrated her the most.

Some time later, though it had felt like only minutes to Eliana, the High Priestess closed her enormous tome with a loud thud and said, "That is all for the day. I will see you girls tomorrow. May Elune be with you," and drifted out of the room.

Eliana gathered her things quickly and followed the High Priestess' path. When she was halfway down the hall, quick footsteps sounded on the marble floor behind her and a hand touched her upper arm. She turned and saw Tyrande who looked at her with concern, her eyebrows bunched together.

"Eliana, what is the matter?" Tyrande asked in a soft voice, ever the empathetic friend.

"It is nothing," Eliana responded as she went to turn away, which caused Tyrande to pull more insistently on her arm.