#azriah

An Elder Scrolls Online commission of @azriah ‘s Telvanni Sorceress, Sovaliah.

She has not spoken a word to Bricini.

Not since she vacated the field with the remnants of Goldenshade doubled on the horses of Crows and Fury Company. They had rode into the campground of what was once a symbiosis of armies, gathering what was quickly transportable: the medical personnel, the sacks of hard-rations prepared weeks ago in Autumnvale, the reserve horses.

The Honourguard were all in the ground like Emberheart.

The Crows didn’t ask questions.

Bricini, as the only member of Fury Company (as barely official as her presence was) with enough courage to approach the Phoenix Guard in the midst of her storm of action, questioned:

“What happened?”

Thanidiel had used this moment to drum up what was left of her thunder, and the last of her words. She did not look at the other, then; a primordial terror nestled in her breast that sensed that she would not see black hair and dark skin, but instead, red, that would awash into blood and more blood.

“The stars burned out. Didn’t you see?”

🌈 I have never found a person so willing to be so invested in the things that we share together. Not only do you support my hobbies you are my hobby. You inspire me to push forward, to write more, to be creative, to follow my dreams. No other person in my life has ever been like that.

🌈 I can’t wait for us to make a home together. We’re slowly building our nest after putting off being adults for so long, and while at times it’s scary to realize that we’re growing older, I only get more excited to see what kind of people we’ll become together.

“I will squash you like the worm you are.”

I believe that’s what she’d probably be saying in this pic. This is an art trade with @azriah of her demon hunter Kaltaia. 

What a babe.

(Note: I had to repost this again because of tumblr’s stupid thing)

Grand Arcanist,

I hope this letter has found its way to you with little issue. I am contacting you because I have had something on my mind for a well as well as a general curiosity about a few different noble families within Quel’thalas. I know I come to you having never spoken to you before, and I was hesitant for a long while to ask. But since becoming a more permanent member of the Sunguard, I thought it fit to ask for your assistance in this matter.

I hope to hear from you soon.

Yours truly,

Commission for the always lovely @azriah !

The letter had arrived by courier, which by all accounts may as well herald the heavy words within. It was much alike when they had first met, how their words were formal, terse, yet yearning. Then he wrote with an eager pen, putting to paper words he had experienced for the first time. When she was mysterious, dangerous, and when by all accounts he was content as a paramour. But that was many years ago, different letters and a different author.

“My lord,” began the servant, a woman of fine breeding, who by all accounts would have been a handmaiden for his betrothed should she have resided with him in the Netherholde. Now she was a woman, dedicated to a foreign mistress whom she had never met. “Would you wish me to read you the letter?”

Izulde had half a heart to deny her, to leave the letter on the table, or if he was in a greater penchant of melancholy to toss it into the flames. They were connected, Azriah and he, by a link more significant than anyone could ever know. Yet in their absence, there was not even a single pull at the tether. He had wished her to come after him, yet that was not her way. Her way began with formality. “Dearest Lord Izulde Netherstar,” began the servant, speaking for his beloved, which sounded more strange than his heart could bare.

As she continued, to read the letter aloud, Izulde sank deeper into his leather chair. His thoughts had begun to drown out her words. He yearned to analyze, to put away feelings and weigh considerations. Yet there was something deeper within him that subdued reason and gave heart to emotion. The feeling was not that of love, for he knew well enough the sharp and bitter twang of Azriah’s love, but something else. He heard the words read aloud, knowing deep down there was part of him missing, that was so close he could reach it.

“If you do not attend me, I will assume you have settled in your decision … and we will part ways … though it pains me to face that reality.” There was a pause, a hanging moment in the air as the servant wishes for her lord’s response. “My Lord, shall I prepare your departure to Dalaran?” The pause continued and the silence hung like the heavy mist of the Emberlight. A silence too dark for someone to see.

“My lord, what will you respond? My lord?”