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The estate was nestled comfortably in the woods, just far away enough from the city to lend some privacy, but not so distant as to be isolated from civilized society. It was a tall, white building with a Sin'dorei red roof and sparse windows and often acted as the nerve center for some of Silvermoon society's grandest parties. Today, though, the white building with its red roof and few windows stood very quiet.
Lounging in a patio chair was Caloneth Sorrelon--the younger, of course. Young Caloneth Sorrelon, heroic paladin of Silvermoon. Caloneth, the handsome Lord and socialite for whom women swoon in the streets. Caloneth who slew dozens of Scourge the day Silvermoon fell in a valiant attempt to save his younger brother's life. That Caloneth, of course.
Cal watched as a young gardener tended to the property, wrestling stubborn weeds from the ground. Lucky boy, though Caloneth, the gardener lead such a simple life. What did he have to worry about? The only war the young man had to think about was the one he waged against weeds and insects. The knight heaved a great sigh and read over the scroll that had been delivered that morning.
Part of him had thought, foolishly, that he would be able to avoid involvement in this latest war. He was an esteemed veteran, after all! But he accepted that by tomorrow, he would be aboard a Horde vessel making its way to this continent now called Pandaria. There he would fight for the glory of the Horde and the honor of the Sin'dorei. He was positive that if Lor'themar was so invested in this, there had to be something in it for their people.
Bored with overseeing his workers, Caloneth marched inside, calling for a servant.
"When will the Lady be getting home?" He demanded when the servant appeared.
The girl, already petite for a Sin'dorei, had to tilt her head all the way back to make eye contact with her employer. "The Lady planned to be home by dinner, sir, but sent word that she will be delayed."
Cal frowned and glanced down at his boots, thinking. "Well then...have someone begin packing my things, I leave at first light. And be sure roast is on the menu if it shall just be me this evening."
Late into the night, Dessandra arrived home. The Magistrix did this often, and typically Caloneth ignored it. Tonight, though, he was furious.
"Where have you been?!" He demanded the moment Dess waltzed in the door.
The red head arched a thin brow and her lips curled into a sly smile. "Now, dear, I don't ask that of you when you stumble in at all hours of the night."
Cal faltered at that, but regained his composure an instant later. "I need to talk to you. When you say you will be home for dinner, you should be home for dinner."
Dess laughed and pushed by him. "Is that all? If not, I want to make some tea first. Would you like any?"
"Not like you to extend such courtesies," grumbled Cal as he followed his wife through the dark home and into the kitchen.
"Well, darling, I am in too fine of a mood to let you ruin it with your sour puss attitude. So I am placating you with tea. Be quiet and sit down."
Cal did as he was asked, waiting in silence for Dess to prepare her tea and finally settle down across from him at the servant's dining table.
"Now, what is so important that you need to keep me up after a long day at work?" She peered at him over the rim of her tea cup, lips poised to drink while Cal spoke.
He showed his wife the letter, explaining how he would leave in but a few hour's time for Pandaria to represent the Sin'dorei for Lor'themar. Dess paid the piece of paper little mind, simply listening with as much interest as she cared to spare anything at this hour. Finally, Cal finished his verbose tale of receiving the orders and how it had affected his day and she was able to speak up.
"Are you asking me to get you out of it? I could probably talk to someone in the morning, if I actually got a wink of sleep tonight."
Cal was appalled. "No I am not asking you to get me out of my commission! I'll fight with honor for the Sin'dorei."
Dess was oddly amused by this, but Cal knew better than to inquire why it was she giggled so gleefully at his response. She liked to ruffle his feathers and it usually worked. "Well then," she began, trailing her finger tip around the rim of her tea cup, "I'll make sure all your things are in order and will accompany you to the ship in the morning. Is this acceptable?" She rose from the table, making it clear in her voice that there was no other answer but 'Yes'.
Slowly, Cal nodded and his wife nodded in kind, turning to leave. A thought, however, gave her pause. She looked back over her shoulder, a curious smile on her lips. "Who did it say was going to be your commanding officer?"
"Someone named Firewing." He thrust the paper up for her to see the name written under who he was to report to. "A Ranger, can you believe that? Putting me under the command of a ranger." He scoffed and rolled the letter back up.
"Mm...unbelievable indeed." Dess smile and wiggled her fingers at her husband. "Try not to wake me when you do finally come to bed, hm?"
