Well, Sar wanted to know more about Medel... so I started writing. Still a HUGE work in progress as I am also currently working on an Alliance Fan Fiction (might post that later...), but here is the first part. ^^---------------------------------------------------------------------
The Dead Scar. It was a streak of barren land that stretched from Silvermoon all the way down to the Ghostlands, a painful reminder of when the Scourge attacked Quel’Thalas during the Third War. Although he wasn’t there to remember that terrible time, the White haired Blood Elf stood at the center of it where the ruins of Silvermoon and its newly rebuilt structures were divided. His Dark robes were lavishly designed by some of the finest Tailors that the Horde had, and he wore it proudly, knowing it. Though, at this moment, he did not feel very proud.
There was pain in this strip of land, still. As one of his gifts as a Priest of the Light, he was blessed with the ability to feel it. He possessed the ability to feel the emotion of those that had not crossed over to the Twisting Nether or the Emerald Dream, and, at this moment, he wished he didn’t… Suddenly dropping to the ground, the young Blood Elf started to weep with his head in his hands. “I… I need you, Master…” he cried. “Please… I need you.”
Ten Years earlier, that same spot of land was a totally different sight. Two beautiful red, white, and gold towers reached high into the Azerothian sky. Crafted in the tradition of their forefathers before them, The High Elves came to these spires as a place of worship of the Sunwell. But it was also much more than that. Within their upper levels, there was a school for those who were blessed with the abilities of Priests. Both Light and Shadow was taught within it’s walls and a respect for each was always maintained.
“It is glorious, Mommy.” Said a small White haired High Elf. “Will I be going to school here now, like you and father?”
“Yes, my Dear. Here, you will learn the exact art of the Shadow like your father and I.” The High Elven woman beemed a smile at her young son as his face filled with excitement. Her sun-kissed skin seemed to shimmer in the afternoon Sunlight. However, that was one thing that Silvermoon City was rather well known for. Within its walls, everyone seemed to look like a god or goddess. “Now, let us go in. I am sure your new Master will be awaiting your arrival.”
The two made their way through the public area of the spire to a twisting staircase at the far end. It was guarded by two Silvermoon Soldiers who, gracefully, stepped aside to allow the woman and her son through. It seemed that the stairs went on forever to the boy. His legs started to ache terribly but his mother continued to pull him along, as she showed no sign of pain at all. “This is one thing you will learn, my son. There is no time for pain while controlling the Shadow.” She explained. “Now, come. We must get you to class.”
Then, in what seemed like another eternity later to him, he and his mother finally arrived at what would be his classroom. His mother went to knock on the door, only to be interrupted by a booming voice from inside. “Come.” Slightly startled by it, the young High Elf latched onto his mothers Cloak as she pushed the door open.
“Master Dar'Khan Drathir?” The boy’s mother asked in a plesant tone. “I have a new student for you. This is my Son, Medel Ishnu'lati.”
Subject: Inner Light 
Tue Aug 28, 2007 1:26 am
