Arielen Bloodwrought

Time does not care about pain. The world around you aches and you feel the echo in your bones. You can count the fragile symphony of an old orchestra that cries in agony. You feel each bruise on your soul like a punch to the gut. You swallow, you scream. But no tears are falling. Maybe you collect scars because you want the proof of all the pain that is raw inside of you.

Time does not care about healing. You can‘t remember the last time you have been whole. Now it feels as if the wind scourges through your holes and all your muscles and sinews are stitched up in the wrong places. Sometimes you wonder how long you have to endure. You don‘t know, but the price for eternity leaves ichor on your tongue.

Time does not care about history. Years from now someone will ask what you have done. There are whispers between the ruins and the soft wind of change playing tune to your name. But your scars are all forgotten. Your bones buried in the ground. No one will tell your story when your time is up. No one dares.

“You can keep the glory. I’m just here for the blood.”

These are just headcanons, not me putting out a demand list for all Sin’dorei rpers to follow. I’m curious as to what you think!

1. The Name of the Betrayer

The name Dar’khan Drathir, or Dar’khan, carries the same emotional and grave weight in Sin’dorei society that the name Judas carries in all of the Christian world. 

A Sin’dorei would never call even their most hated enemy ‘another Dar’khan Drathir’ unless the situation was the utmost dire. 

This also means betrayal is one of the worst sins/crimes in Sin’dorei society, for the weight it carries. The Void Elves/Ren’dorei situation was likely enraging for the Sin’dorei, and allusions to Dar’khan, especially as it was his work that Umbric was studying, have been made. Especially if the Void Elves help the Alliance destroy Quel’Thalas.

Alleria to many Sin’dorei now may be the second Dar’khan.

2. All Roads Lead To Silvermoon

In my home country of Italy, a neat little tidbit is that wherever you are in the country, there is always a street sign telling you where Rome is.

I like to think that Silvermoon itself is considered, if not the Heart like Quel’Danas, then the soul of the Sin’dorei. It represents their lost home, and the fact they, the Sin’dorei, rebuilt it from the ashes the Scourge left.

I would think that at every signpost you see in Quel’Thalas, a sign points you to Silvermoon. All roads.

3. Sin’dorei Diet

You would not see many well, livestock farms around Quel’Thalas. Vineyards, orchards and the like - Absolutely. Most of the land, not burned by the Scourge, is woodland. Few plains exist.

I don’t think meat is a big staple in Quel’Thalas therefore. You know what is? Quel’Thalas is a peninsula. Surrounded by the ocean, fish are likely a huge part of Sin’dorei diet, and Sin’dorei fishmongers take a lot of pride in their work.

4. Thalassian as a Language

I’ve been thinking about this one for awhile, and for some reason, certain matching words and the lyrical way that Thalassian as a language and how it sounds, reminds me of Arabic.

I’m not an expert, but from what I know, Arabic as a language is based a lot around the faith of Islam itself, such as the word Allah. 

I like to think that, as Thalassian broke off from Darnassian as a separate language, a lot of its evolution as a native tongue came from its revolving around the words ‘Alah’ as in Light, and ‘Belore’, the Sun - Considering their cultural, spiritual and religious connotations to the Sin’dorei.

I also find it neat that Alah refers to the Light, and the actual word Allah refers to God. Probably not planned, but, you know.

Aheon seemed so vulnerable there, skin and scars bare, their limbs forming a latticework hampered by sheets. Warmth and hope filled what could have been emptiness between them, eclipsing the negative space that often kept twin souls from each-other.

He had seen her in shadowed shame, in surrender. In doubt. Destiny had pushed them here and stripped them bare, had invited her to share her name, to strip her face and to offer what warmth she could in exchange for a moment of peace.

She held him, and he held her. And what peace it was -- what bliss; his fingers knotted in her hair and her own pressed into his flesh. Tranquility urged them to sleep, to love and to forgive, to join in harmony and nurse serenity. To sleep, to sleep.