Above the Stars and under the Flames

2. Memories

(( Hey again, sorry to interrupt your reading, I promise I'll be brief! In this chapter are the lyrics to a lullaby of my own creation. I'd like everyone to know that it's completely fine if you want to use it for your own purposes! I'm not saying that I'm Beethoven and that you're going to immediately fall head over heels for the song, but I like it, and I hope you do as well. If you do plan on using it, feel free to do so, but please make sure you're not claiming it as your own work. Thank you! ))

Winds whipped about, causing sand to rise into the air all around. Barren wasteland stretched for as far as the eye could see in all directions, aside from a single grove in the center, where life flourished and ponds twinkled with reflected moonlight.

A night elven woman gazed around, observing her surroundings. She was of average height, with deep teal-colored hair sweeping down past her shoulders. This hair was naturally curly; it twisted in ringlets around her pale blue-skinned face. Leaf-shaped tattoos were inked over her cheeks, forehead, and eyes, which were bright amber, indicating her druidic ability.

That is, it would have, if it weren't for the fact that her skills were made so very obvious by her choice of garb. Greens and browns covered her entire body; a tabard of the Guardians of Hyjal rested on her chest. Her feet were bare, and she dug them into the sand as she looked around quietly.

"Desolace," she murmured softly. Her gaze reached the lively grove, and she brightened for a moment. The inclination to visit the grove on her way southward was appealing.
She shook her head suddenly and frowned. "No," she told herself. "The sooner I reach Silithus, the better. No time to stop." She pursed her lips in determination and reached up to pat a hippogryph that was at her side. "Dear friend, are you ready to continue? Have you had a pleasant rest?" she crooned, stroking its feathers affectionately. It chirped in response, and she allowed a weak smile to flit across her lips. Slowly, she climbed atop her mount and gripped the reins. "Onward!"

She urged her hippogryph into the sky, and it took off, spreading its majestic wings. The woman held on tight and leaned in, and her thoughts began to drift elsewhere...

"Sister," a white-haired night elf man started. "The Moonblade is worried about your learning. I have heard that Brother Eshel has been rather busy as of late, and he has not been attentive in his duty to help you progress as a druid."

The teal-haired woman nodded in response. "Yes, Brother Galondel, this much is true. I am afraid he has not shown the most interest in my studies."

Galondel heaved a sigh and tapped his staff on the ground a couple of times as he thought. "As a Cenarion of the Moonblade unit, I have the responsibility to provide practice and guidance to young druids of our order. Seeing as you are a part of the Moonblade as well, and you are for the most part without a mentor, you would fall under that category of 'young druids.' Say, sister.. would you be opposed to me taking up your training? Matron Melyria has contacted me about Eshel's lack of concern for your education. I would gladly take you up as my thero'shan, if you would accept me as your shan'do."

The woman blinked slowly, then furrowed her brows. "Well.. I appreciate the offer, truly. But of course, you must understand that I mean no disrespect when I say that I need to consult Eshel first. I cannot make the decision right now, without speaking with him."

"Of course, sister. I would not expect an answer straight away. Please, take your time, and contact me when you
can give me the verdict."

The scene in her head faded to black, and a new memory took its place.

"Sister, I am so very glad you could accept my offer," Galondel said with a smile. "It is my honor to train you as my thero'shan. Please, follow me. We will begin with the crafting of your staff, here in the Stormrage Barrow Dens..."