Stargazing pt 1

The evening sky above Stormwind was the deep blue-black of scholar’s ink, stars scattered across its expanse; like tiny gems flung over a roll of dark velvet. The moon hung so low in the sky, indolent and bloated, as if the White Lady herself had indulged in the Winter’s Veil excesses. Despite it being midwinter, the temperature was relatively mild; Stormwind had enjoyed the warming breezes that had blown their way up from balmy Stranglethorn. It was not the season for southern winds, but the event commonly referred to as the Cataclysm had thrown the elements themselves into disarray. Snow was melting earlier than was usual, certain animals were waking up from hibernation and wandering the woods in confusion, looking for absent prey.

Just outside the city walls, sloping plains gave way to the cliffs that flanked the harbour. Farmers had given up on this tangled scrub-land, where the grass grew to knee-height and beyond unhindered. There were no guard patrols in this isolated woodland, no stone-marked pathways or wrought iron lamps. No light save for the lazy moon tinged the uniform darkness of the undulating plain. It was hard to believe that only ten minutes away lay one of the busiest and noisiest districts in Stormwind; any wanderer venturing beyond the safe yellow light of the lanterns would feel as if he had stumbled through some mage portal and ended up in the midst of the Highlands. It was also the perfect place for privacy; especially for a couple who shared a very small cottage with a belligerent grandmother and four squalling babies.

Ashamal was used to lying hidden amongst long grasses; though most times he was flat on his belly, rifle in hand relying on his hawk-like vision to gauge the aim as he prepared to take a shot. This time he was on his back on the flattened turf, the evening dew dampening his leathers, rifle within easy reach. He was murmuring lowly to his reclining mate, the quietness of his tone stealing the gruff bass from his voice. One arm was raised, a tapered finger tracing the shapes of the constellations.

“This is the most well-known star pattern, Elune’s Seat; which is also known as the Bear. It is only visible when the Blue Child is in the ascendency.”

Leafsong squinted up at the stars, her head resting against his shoulder. Her legs were bent, the knees covered in grass stains. She stared at the sky, closing an eye, following the line of his finger. After a moment of dubious squinting, she shook her head.

“Ain’t there.”

He swivelled his eyes to the top of her curly head, nonplussed.


She looked up at him, her earnest gaze meeting his venerable one.

“It. Ain’t. There.”

“You mean to say, that a constellation studied by scholars for millenia, the focus of entire theories and books and studies, the subject of poems and song cycles, isn’t actually there?”

She nodded, stubbornly. He stroked the top of his hand over her head, snorting to himself as she muttered to herself, darkly.

“Alright then, my darling. What do you see then, when you look up at our Holy Mother’s home?”

Leafsong tapped her fingers against her lips, studying the vast heavens above with intense concentration, her brow furrowed. The long grasses around them shifted; Ashamal reached for his rifle instinctively, but it was merely the wind blowing through the rushes. After a few moments, Leafsong raised her own finger to trace out a shape in the sky.

“I see a demon.”


She persisted, infuriatingly. “A demon. One of them.. ah, horned ones. Felguard.”

Ashamal hissed softly in her ear. “Are you mad? Why would Elune raise up a cursed demon to immortalise in the stars?”

She shrugged, already losing interest. “I don’t know. Maybe he were an hero of his people and She wanted to honour him?”

An hero,” he repeated, astounded. “You are..a most peculiar girl.”


1 Response so far »

  1. 1

    Aphel said,

    Hahaha. Cute, but the ending was especially funny =P ❤ Good job babe.

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