My mother has been killed. My daughter Cyra is currently at Ardathiel with Lyrinel Daybreak. You are to retrieve her at once and keep her until I return home, whenever that may be.
Please.
- Essalie
Zosine lofted a brow at the note, hastily written and still smelling faintly of fel and ash. How Essalie had even gotten the news of her child’s whereabouts, he had no idea, but it seemed that things now fell to him.
Wonderful.
It wasn’t as if the ranch was at max capacity, especially with Vistara, Ell, and the Fleetfoot sisters scheduled to be on duty for a few more weeks yet. Another child running around only somewhat supervised would just be another day at the ranch, really.
If not for what she’d done for him, and the urgency that could only be conveyed by a truly panicked parent, Zosine would have scoffed at the note. But the fact that he was able to walk to the stable and mount his irritable hawkstrider entirely unassisted, without aid of his cane or another person, was entirely Essalie’s doing, and for that he was eternally in her debt.
So he found himself, riding through the Ghostlands, moving almost by instinct towards Ardathiel, following the current of magic that was constantly being sucked toward the grounds to keep them rejuvenated among the otherwise magically withered wood.Â
He hadn’t been back since he paid a visit to Lyrinel while she was pregnant. She’d frightened him, in truth, with how deeply entranced she was in her own dream, completely disconnected from reality, especially where Thradia was concerned.Â
But he could tell something had changed, if only because the wrought iron gates leading to the property were now shut, where they used to be open almost all the time.
A pulse of arcane seemed to examine him, find him worthy, and animate the gates to open, creaking ever so slightly with the motion. Zosine urged his strider through, feeling his anxiety get the better of him.Â
He knocked on the golden lynx head knocker and waited. The aura around the grounds had changed. It was quieter, more aware somehow. The dreamlike quality was still there, but now it felt like a lucid dream rather than one so deep that you may never wake from it.Â
Lyrinel answered the door, and she was the most different thing of all. She bounced Hanniel on her hip, clinging to him. She didn’t smile when she saw Zosine, not at first. She looked him over critically, and as she did so, he caught sight of the blade she wore at her hip.
“Expecting someone... else?” he dared to ask.
She finally smiled, but it was not the lazy, languid smile of the dreamer she used to be. Her eyes were bright and alert, catching his every move and intonation. “You could say that. How can I help you, Zosine?”
Her words were crisp and curt, lilting as always, but they reminded him of her clerical days at the Academy. Whatever had broken her spell, he was glad for it.Â
“I’m here to fetch Cyra, actually,” he replied, offering the note as way of explanation. “It seems her grandmother has... passed away.”Â
Lyrinel looked the note over, a shadow passing briefly over her face. “Asanna. Horribly sad. She was always so kind to me.” She handed the note over, turning to call over her shoulder. “Thradia? Could you bring Cyra here? Someone’s here to pick her up.”
Zosine found it odd that she referred to him as “someone” to his own adopted daughter, but with all the strange signals passing around him, he didn’t want to push it. They waited in tense silence, which Zosine broke by conjuring a butterfly of flame to dance about for Hanniel to watch and laugh at. It was a favorite trick among all of the children at home.
Cyra soon appeared, Thradia lurking behind her. She came obediently to Lyrinel’s side, but Thradia lingered in the shadows, unwilling to come fully to the door. Zosine peered at her over Lyrinel’s shoulder, but she turned away and retreated back into the house. Zosine was puzzled.
“Did something happen?” he finally asked, something he probably should have asked sooner.
“Rhaelia’s dead. Thradia and Alorinus are not speaking at the moment.”
“Oh.”
“I killed her.”
Zosine’s eyes went again to the blade at her hip, the vice-like way she held Hanniel to her side. “Oh.” He looked down at Cyra, forcing himself to smile. “Hello, Cyra. I’m a good friend of your mother’s. She’s asked me to come and take you home with me. There’s lots of other children to play with there. Would you like to go meet them?”
Cyra nodded, a cautious smile slowly brightening her features. She offered a hand up to Zosine, which he carefully took. He looked back to Lyrinel, who was receding back into her fortress, getting ready to shut the door.
“Good job, Nel,” was all he had to say.
The smile she gave him in return sent a chill down his spine, even as he lead Cyra to his waiting strider.Â
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"But god, I look at you and know.
Hell is just another place I guess I’ll go
to keep you warm.”
- and with bloody knuckles, you’d follow me anywhere | p.d
Lyrinel was in the nursery more often than she was in her own bedroom.
She spent all day doting upon her son, reading to him, watching over him while he napped. Whenever Thradia passed by the room she would often poke her head in, watch the charming maternal display, and bury that suffocating pressure that would build up in her chest at the sight of it.
She was made to be a mother, Thradia would always muse to herself. You have to tell her soon.
Thradia, much like she did many things, was avoiding it.
Thinariel had reacted fairly well, but even with her perpetually dreamy state Lyrinel would react with nothing short of an explosion.
You have to climb this mountain, Thradia, she thought to herself one day, standing in the doorway of the nursery and watching Lyrinel bent over Hanniel’s cradle. She worried at her lower lip, her nostrils flaring as she forced her body forward and closed the door behind her.
“Nel,” she started slowly. “We need to talk about something.”
She had just laid Hanniel down to sleep when she heard Thradia slip into the room and shut the door behind her.
Lyrinel looked up, her thickly curled hair bouncing. It had gotten so much longer and thicker during her pregnancy, it was like a golden mane now. She tilted her head, glanced down at Hanniel, and gestured for them to leave the room. Whatever it was, it wasn't worth him waking up from his nap over.
They walked wordlessly down the hall to the sunroom, where fresh flowers had been placed on every open surface just that morning. Their heady, fragrant perfumes wafted around them in a cloud as they entered and Thradia once again shut the door behind them.
Lyrinel wasn't stupid. She focused only on the good in her life to keep herself grounded, to keep from spiraling into a depression. She had to be this way, she told herself. If she let herself fall back into her sadness, she couldn't care for her son and keep the house up and running. This was fine. But even in her numb, bubble-like state, she knew whatever Thradia was going to say wasn't going to be good.
She's leaving again, or she's going to assassinate the head of the Magistry, or some other awful thing, Lyrinel thought as she carefully perched on a chaise. No one, not even Thradia, will let me simply have things the way I need them for long.
She didn't miss the glint of a ring on Thradia's left hand. She told herself it was a trick of the light.
Thradia swallowed as she took her seat beside her. She continued to chew on her lip, trying to tear it to shreds in an effort to keep herself grounded. She took Lyrinel’s hand in hers, squeezing it tightly.
“You know that I love you more than anyone else in the world, and you know that nothing will ever change that,” she began slowly. She paused, her eyes fluttering shut as her belly twisted nervously. “...I can’t stay here. I can’t...be here.”
Not because I don’t want to, it’s all I want, even though I can feel the ghosts of my family boring holes into me with their dead eyes.
“I did things in Draenor, Nel. Awful things that were very nearly seen as treason in the eyes of the Magistry,” her voice caught in her throat. Just say it, you stupid girl. “And I...I’m to be married.”
She knew something like this would happen. Thradia hated Quel'Thalas, or at least being stuck in it. She had known this, and she'd been telling herself, very quietly, that it meant she could no longer factor her best friend into her image of happiness. That she was no longer a constant but instead a variable, bound to come and go as she pleased.
I know this. And yet I still hate it.
"That's fine," she said blithely. "I can take care of the house myself, me and Mother can. Do what you will."
You always do, you always leave me anyway. And I care about you too much to make you stay and be miserable.
She tilted her head slightly. She said married. She's getting married. There was a time when I would jump up and down over such news. Now it just makes me tired. "Who is your intended?"
“I still intend to come and stay here some days of the week,” Thradia added quickly, noting how Lyrinel seemed to wilt even as she deflected the weight of her friend’s words. “I will not be gone forever, it would just be...easier for me to stay in Silvermoon. For my work and for...him.”
She bit her lip. Tell her. Just tell her, damnit.
“That’s...part of the reason I can’t stay here. Because I know you will suffer with him in your presence,” she swallowed the bile rising in her throat. “...Alorinus. It’s Alorinus...Daybreak.”
Lyrinel shot off the couch as if she'd been zapped. She backed away from Thradia, posture rigid, eyes blazing coldly. She shook her head a bit, then collected herself, stopping where she was and raising her chin firmly.
"You hate me."
She felt cold inside, like someone had just snapped their fingers and her insides had disappeared, leaving her hollow. First my grandparents, and now you. None of you care. None of you care about anyone but yourselves.
Her mind was already leaping to the worst conclusions without having heard anything else about the situation. Thradia opened her mouth to hush her, to reassure her, but Lyrinel raised a hand to cut her off.
"No, you do, you must, there's absolutely no other explanation for why you would do this. I know my grandparents didn't bait you into it; they'd be swarming around here to secure you if they had. You did this. I can see it. Don't lie to me!" she all but screamed when Thradia tried to speak again.
She was shaking. She ignored it. Had the smell of flowers always been so choking to her? She felt like they were bleeding. Â Was she bleeding too, somewhere unseen? "You chose this. I know you did. You chose this, after seeing what I went through while married to that family. You got to chose, Thradia! And you threw it away, just like you're throwing me away!"
Her voice broke. Tears started pooling over, and all because of a single name with no other explanation attached. "That marriage almost killed me, Thradia. I almost died. Is this what you want?" She spat, wreching open her robe and tugging up her undershirt to reveal her belly. It was still discolored and slightly distended from carrying Hanniel, and her stretch marks were still red and angry scars, running up and down skin that had once been smooth as marble.
She threw her hands up, not bothering to retie her robe. "You hate me. You got to choose, and you chose wrong. I... I suppose Mother and I will gather our things. I'm sure your husband will want every inch of property he can wring out of you, since that's all we are to them. Just breeders and money. Just... fodder."
Thradia winced, taking every verbal blow. She deserved it, she deserved that much. Her eyes were locked on Lyrinel as she darted around the room, snarling and mad. She calculated her next move, and made sure to be extremely careful with her choice of words.
“I know exactly what they did to you,” Thradia said loudly when Lyrinel took a breath to speak. “I know every wrong they have done because I watched you suffer for months, Nel, months. Don’t you dare pack your things because I am doing this for you.”
She pushed herself out of her sleep, prowling towards Lyrinel with a blank face. She grabbed her arms, forced her to stand still and stare into her eyes. She lifted her hands, cupping them around Lyrinel’s face, their noses mere inches from each other.
“Rhaelia lied to you. Rhaelia saw you - sees you - as nothing more than a broodmare. Sees us as pawns. You and I both know that we are not,” she said slowly, carefully. “Rhaelia lied to you because Amphion is not the first in line for anything. Rhaelia failed to mention that she has an older brother, and with her downfall he has maneuvered himself to take every coin that she lost with her treason. He wants to take everything from us. Everything you put into this place, everything that you want for your son. I’m doing this to ensure that he does not.”
Before Lyrinel could wriggle away from her Thradia let her go, pacing to the edge of the room and giving Lyrinel the space that she needed. Thradia looked wounded, felt wounded, but she knew it was nothing like the pain that she had just inflicted to her own friend. The person that she loved most in this world.
“I’m doing this because I intend to cripple them from within and make them suffer for every wrong they have inflicted upon you, upon me, upon Vistara and Thinariel and Zosine and hell, even Amphion. I am going to destroy every single one of them if it kills me, as long as I take Rhaelia down with me first.”
Thradia's talking sense. She always does. Lyrinel knew this, in the back of her mind, but she still hated it. She wrenched away from Thradia as soon as she loosened her grip, striding over to stare out the window, wrapping her arms around herself to keep from falling apart at the seams.
"I didn't ask you to do this."
You're just one person.
"If you're already in trouble with the Magistry, you think this is a good thing to be doing right now? They can have the house, Thradia. I don't care about it. I'll live penniless, I'll live with the Goldmysts, I'll live with my grandparents, I don't care. If it were me, I'd let them have all of it and just get away from them. They'll kill each other in time, they hate each other enough. You don't have to do this."
She does, though, because after they've got the house and the money and the inheritances, they'll be coming after Hanniel. Your only son.
She'd only heard vague tales of Draenor, but suddenly she found that she never wanted to be on another planet so badly as this.
Something moved in the foliage outside the window. Her eyes went to follow it, but it was gone. Another trick of the light.
“And I didn’t ask you to marry Amphion in the first place,” Thradia said softly, staring at Lyrinel’s back. “I saw your marriage contract. I know that Serayn and Irinore offered me up in your place if you refused to marry him.”
She began to slowly make her way towards Lyrinel, the only sound in her room were her footfalls and the whisper of her robes against the stone floors. She treated her as she would a manic, injured animal.
“This isn’t going to stop unless we make it stop, Nel,” she said as she reached her side. Lyrinel was as tense as a drawn bowstring. She made no move to touch her. “And I intend to put an end to it once and for all.”
Thradia stared at her desperately, but Lyrinel would not even look at her. That’s okay. I don’t deserve to be in her presence, let alone her sight right now.
“Once it is done he will have no access to this house. He will not be allowed on this property and I will not be adding him to the deed as an owner. This place will be a safe place for us, and more importantly for Hanniel. You will never even lay eyes upon him. It will take time but I will dig a canyon between you and that horrid family, and when it’s done?”
Thradia smiled grimly at Lyrinel, her head tilting.
“I’ll kill Rhaelia myself, and Alorinus too if he stands in my way. Then we’ll be free.”
Lyrinel couldn't hide her wince when Thradia called her long-held bluff about her marriage. She wanted to tell her that she didn't have to protect her, didn't have to pay her back, but she knew it was pointless. A small part her was grateful, even, knowing she would be doing this and that Lyrinel no longer had to.
She turned, heaving a sigh. She was tired. She had been more tired this past year than she had been her entire life. She was still conflicted, still wanted to simply cut and run, but she wouldn't let herself. Not when Thradia was throwing herself headlong into the fire for her benefit and for Hanniel's safety.
She cracked a smirk. "Let him come over. I insist. I've asked Ellathedar to find me a nice pair of hunting lynx to keep watch over the property for me."
She actually earned a tiny smile from Thradia then. She took her hand - her ring hand, the one that bound her the same way it had Lyrinel - and held it in both of hers. "Should you find Amphion on your bloody path, don't kill him. Get him out of your way if you must but... he didn't ask to be her son, anymore than he asked to be married to me. And when you get down to it, don't kill Rhaelia."
Thradia blinked, and Lyrinel smiled, even though her soul felt as heavy as Mount Hyjal itself.
APOTHECARY'S PERSONAL LOG
BEGIN AUDIO PLAYBACK
I hardly know where to start at the moment. I suppose with people who are not me.
Raiyden is coming along well enough in his fosterage ... but I am not putting him forward for Naming yet. While one does not have to have the Flames to pass one's fosterage, that ... is not why I don't think he's ready to be Named. Confidence is one thing; overconfidence is another. I think he expected everything to come easily, and when learning to channel the Flames the way I do did not ... it struck him deeply. If there is one thing that I know about being Marran, it is that things seldom if ever come easy. I think he needs to work past that frustration with himself at least a little before being Named. I don't expect him to expect to fail - just that it is not a reflection on him if he does not succeed without struggle within the first five minutes. I don't imagine it will be long, but ... not yet.
Ozakif ... I have not seen him since he left for 'someplace more comfortable'. He has been on comms, but apparently 'someplace comforting' turned into Nar Shaddaa. There have been so many conversations about what to do about Ozakif in terms of him having asked to be my padawan, and the longer he stays away, the more I think he is not ... he does not really want to be Jedi. He is a marine. There is nothing wrong with that. He says he wants to learn to be a Jedi because he has this gift and owes it to the galaxy or similar. But Sedryn said the same thing and in the end ... the Order did not make him happy. Perhaps that's a conversation I will have with him when he comes back. ...If he does.
Despite all this, Arbiter Nyomi says that I seem to be a good teacher. Or maybe because of it. Honestly, I don't know. I would have to ask Kell and Mae. Though Mae might be biased.
Actually, so might Kell. I believe his exact words were, "You have done so much for my family today". That was about two days ago now, and that day was ... nerf, that is not a day I wish to repeat. Mostly because I ended up infiltrating a Hapanii palace - the Hapani system, where they truly dislike Force-users and aliens and my species is both, more or less by evolutionary necessity. Apparently some of those lessons on bluffing in sabacc actually stuck with me, at least. Then, of course, there was dealing with the one problematic element (I was a little busy with patient care at the time but it seemed to have been about someone who was passed over as unimportant even by the standards of Hapani males because he, like Raiyden, prefers the romantic company of his own gender) and ... on a world where they do not like Force-users, I used the Force to heal one of their royals, who had been being slowly poisoned for months. Poor woman. As it stands, perhaps this will be a tentative olive branch towards Force-users, particularly considering Lyrinel and Anirel's family background. The Marran, at least, are considered allies to that particular royal family.
Then we returned to the Talon and Lyrinel went into labour. I was in the immediate vicinity, so I oversaw childbirth for the first time. With twins, no less. Hence Kell saying that I had done so much for his family. I would have done the same for anyone, and I think he knows that, but ... well, in any case.
I also think I may have made Rilus a little nervous when mentioning just on a theoretical level the issue with my own ability to bear children ... well, lack thereof, anyway. Oddly, Master Sortek kept saying that there may be ways to overcome the damage the nutritional deficiency I apparently suffered in my formative years did to my capacity to conceive a child, and then in nearly the same breath told me I should not consider it. Because, of course, I am a Jedi. I am also too young to consider such a thing, but sometimes looking at it on the theoretical level is not precisely a bad thing.
Besides ... having heard Sedryn's view on it - that he wants to be there to protect his family, and not potentially deprive his son of a father in his formative years through endless campaigns and potential death - I don't think the two are necessarily mutually exclusive. Being Jedi - or at least Marran - and having children, that is. For me, I think it would be more ... trying to make a galaxy in which my child could grow up safe and happy. This is not that galaxy; not yet. I would do my best to make it so, just as I do now. Just ... for a less abstract purpose.
Still, too young, too Jedi and far too soon. Rilus and I have only just begun cohabiting. Actually speaking of children beyond the theoretical would be silly. I do hope he knows my tendency to consider things in the abstract just for the sake of it. There was a definite thread of 'panic' when he left medbay after the twins were born.
The infirmary was quiet at this hour of the night. The single medic glanced up at the sound of footsteps, then looked away. Â
A sliver of light widened under the door at the end of the hall. The linen curtain surrounding Lyrinel’s cot was heavy and white.Â
It looks like a shroud.
Shift change came and went while Talandriel kept her silent vigil. “I expect she’ll wake soon,” observed the medic when he came by on his early rounds.Â
She dipped her head and brushed the back of her hand across her cheek. “I have to go,” she whispered to the girl with the golden curls. “My orders will come any day.”
Her fingers curled over the limp white hand. “I’ll find them, Nel. I promise. I’ll look for her first on the other side.”
Guardian Sunchaser presents this note to a courier with instructions that it be delivered into the hands of Executive Assistant Lyrinel Morningflame at the Celestial Dawn estate.
Lyrinel,
In the bottom right drawer of my desk is a folder marked with the Celestial Dawn emblem.Â
If I were - for any reason - unable to continue as head of the defense division within Celestial Dawn, I trust you would see to it this folder finds its way into the hands of my replacement. The instructions within contain all the information needed to ensure a smooth transition with no disruption to our security processes.Â
Please do not be alarmed. I relate this to you for informational purposes only and do not anticipate any change in our leadership structure at the present time.Â
I will be away from the capital this evening and will check in with you upon my return - most likely tomorrow.
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When our towers shimmer from end to end in the morning sunlight, when the paths are paved and the sun sets over the rippling waves near the docks, I hope you take the time to reflect on things and realize that you are a part of this - all of this - and have left your mark on those around you.Â
As the first golden rays of dawn stretched across the eastern horizon Talandriel stood in quiet reflection. The words of Headmaster Tarcanus Frostbourne echoed in her thoughts as she surveyed the slumbering grounds of the Celestial Dawn Estate.Â
Today the residents would wake to the melody of birdsong rather than the shouts and hammers of the work crew. Foreman Brightwhistle and his crew had departed over the weekend, their pockets bulging with well earned reward for their months of hard labor.
Melada's workshop stood empty, the talented engineer having recently completed her work on the Celestial Dawn contract. The guardian had developed a deep respect and fond regard for the woman and left her workshop undisturbed, privately hoping the busy engineer would find her way back to work with them again soon.Â
She knelt on the wooden pier, brushing back the loose strands of coppery hair that fell across her forehead as she rummaging in her bag for quill and notebook. Settling back against a post, she drew her knees up to her chest. The gentle lap of waves against the dock washed over her spirit as she watched the sun rise over the rippling waves. With a soft exhale of pleasure she propped the notebook against her knees and began to write.
 Headmaster Frostbourne,
The directives you issued some months ago in conjunction with the "Sunchaser Initiative" project are now complete.
Engineer Melada Sunstriker's efficiency exceeded expectation and the communication, security and transport enhancements you requested are ready for implementation.
The hearthstone communication devices have been tested and distribution will begin this week under Lyrinel Morningflame's supervision.
The automated sentinels are fully operational and activated for sentry duty.
Teleportation units are in place to facilitate large parcel transit between the estate, outposts and Order member places of business.
The medical wing is fully operational and the Triage Unit flourishes under the capable administration of Amannette Hardy with the assistance of our Pandaren ally, Jaedan Snowdrift.
The Reconnaissance Unit has expanded in recent months to encompasses a network of agents extending from Silvermoon to Pandaria all reporting under the watchful leadership of Guardian Rook Tangram and his capable partner, Guardian Ameriya "First" Nyteshade.Â
Zurilod Dawnreaver, head of the Arms Unit and Chief of Security, has expanded his class offerings to include personalized training in fighting styles and self defense. This unit has also seen the recent addition of the Blood Knight Jadoth Bloodreign.Â
I am proud of what we have accomplished together over the past few months and am grateful for the opportunity to play a role in this organization.
