A Raven's Tale

37. THE CRATER

Music: LEAVING EARTH by Seven Lions

A gust of wind startled me from my sleep, causing me to scramble upon the boulder as I tried to maintain my balance.

Raindrops splatted on the pebbles and rocks in front of me, their stains spreading, reaching out to each other. 

The rain was light, but it would still drain my energy if I flew through it for too long. My best option was to find suitable shelter and wait it out.

I took to the wing and climbed against the rain to clear the mountains. Thankfully, the range was indeed small, and the ground soon opened to green meadows and small grassy tors.

Static rippled through my feathers again, jarring my flight. This time it was more vigorous, less intermittent.

I had no choice but to descend and hopefully find shelter. The uncompromising pull of this mysterious force was persistent.

I coasted down, gliding over the countryside. My body sensed a deep thrumming reaching out to me; I felt I was being summoned by something ancient and steeped in power.

Then, I saw it. Instantly, I recognised what had been drawing me all this time. It was the site where I had spent a good deal of my youth learning the disciplines of the arcane and other magics.

Now, it was just a vast crater, bordering the Alterac Mountains and sitting at the edge of Lordamere Lake. But this was once home to the city of Dalaran, long before it was uprooted to Northrend offering aid to those brave individuals who stood against the Lich King - yet another servant of the Burning Legion.

The crater nonetheless was still home to the very source which made the human magi construct Dalaran in this locality in the first place. Leylines.

Landform alignments from all across Azeroth threaded their way underground and converged to make one of the most potent sites for those with an affinity for magic. 

In due course, it became the most prominent community of like-minded individuals and home to the Kirin Tor with its Council of Six.

I can only allegorise what happened to me next, as a stone plummeting through the air at an alarming rate. 

My flight came to an abrupt end, and my body thundered down the last few yards before skidding to a halt in the crater. All around me, channels of energy, purple and silver, hummed and vibrated.

Typically, such a collision would have either rendered me unconscious or at best, momentarily stunned, but instead, I was alert, unharmed and infused with the power of the leylines. My body remained motionless, pinned to the earth with wings outstretched, my tail, chest and neck flat against the ground.

The deep-bedded oscillation intensified. In its wake, memories, long since locked away, stirred and tumbled to the fore. I was reliving my youth.

I revisited the moment my parents handed me over to the Magi in Dalaran. It was considered a great honour for one to enter into the custody of these men and women of power.

To a boy of six, however, I interpreted it as a punishment. Quite what I'd done to deserve this sentence I knew not, and although my mother tried to reassure me I had done no wrong, I still felt a sting of rejection as I watched my parents turn and walk away.

That was a feeling I had locked away in the darkest reaches of my mind; I had not wanted to feel that again.

I saw my first few weeks in Dalaran unfold. I was rebellious, to begin with, refusing to do as I was told, demanding to be returned home. But, being one of seven children from a poor family had sealed my fate.

My older siblings were making a path for themselves in the world. Those younger than me had already become a handful, draining my parents' resources and energy. I had seemed aimless, lost, having no particular skill enabling me to contribute to the family purse. I could only entertain with a few magic tricks, as I saw them.

A harsh reality, but I believed I was surplus to requirement, and this was a punishment - the real reason I had been brought to Dalaran. 

Over the next four months, however, seeing no other option than to follow the way of the Magi, I started abiding by their rules. Amazingly, within a few short years, I had become attentive, focused, and hungry for knowledge in the magical arts.

I was named Guardian Novitiate at the tender age of eleven, the immensity of said title, a prelude to the most significant responsibility of all – Guardian of Azeroth. I was being trained to succeed Medivh; the man himself not officially introduced to me at that point.

As time progressed, I decided I did not possess the appropriate appetence for such a lofty role. I started to feel limited in the teachings at the Kirin Tor. I was disgruntled with their ordinances, restrictions, and, in my opinion, their lack of vision. 

So, at the age of seventeen, I left to make my own way in the world.