Character Full Name: Salsh'alei Silverthread
Character In-Game Name: Salshalei (Sahl-Sha-Lay)
Nickname(s): Sal, Salsh
Hair: Blue mane, which spills out the side of her hood when she is wearing it. She grooms it constantly, more as a habit then caring.
Eyes: Silver mist.
Usual Garments/Armor: She wears a Cerulean robe. When traveling, or with bad weather, she'll wear a matching hood. She has a large staff, which has a owl feather sprouting from the end.
Other: Her skin is littered with elegant tattoos. She has a copy of Haidene, levitating two moons before her outstretched arms, on her front, a tree with a stag and saber on her back. She has two moons, one on each shoulder, with waves moving away from them and down her arms. On her right thigh, she has her two parents, her saber sleeping at their feet. Then, lower on her right leg, she has her staff. On her left thigh is a bow, a moonglaive and a crescent moon, in that order, from top to bottom.
She has a saber named Lei'rala. He's a dull gray and covered in light armor for protection.
She is deeply attached to two things; her staff and her saber, Lei'rala. She's not very used to getting gifts, and would best be classified as shy. Although, when she knows people, she's perfectly fine being chatty around them. She's nice but finds it hard to forgive people.
Although, when anyone mentions anything about the War of the Ancients, she gets mad. She also gets mad when threats are made to her or negative comments are made on her tattoos or her body. This includes flirting, which she takes as an insult for the majority of the time.
Salsh'alei only has two interests: herself and anything that happens in the Night Elven lands. What happens in Stormwind to a Draenei, or in Bloodmyst to a Human is none of her concern, in her mind.
Salsh'alei was born in a poorer area of Zin'Azshari. Her beginning life was peaceful, her parents obtaining her a saber named Lei'rala for her to play with. The War of the Ancients came, and, instead of being slaughtered, her parents got her out of town safely.
She, once reaching friendly civilization, was adopted by a Priestess of the Moon. She was intrigued by Elune, and, through her adopted mother's teachings, she became nearly fanatic with her love of Elune. Once the war had settled down, her recently widowed adopted mother and her moved to Hyjal, where Salsh'alei was formally taught to be a Priestess.
At the end of her Priesthood, she was given a staff, which ended in an owl feather. Her life went by easily, until she was sent to work with a squad of Sentinels by a Sentinel named Shei. This deployment evolved into being sent into the War of the Shifting Sands. Here, she met a Warrior by the name of Kalore.
She returned to Ashenvale, where she kept up a relationship with Kalore via mail. When she was released from service, she went to his house. Their relationship progressed. Although, peace would not last, and Kalore died from a few vicious wounds given to him by a starving saber. Salsh'alei attempted to resurrect him, yet failed and fell into a depression, blaming Elune.
She discovered she was pregnant from Kalore, and gave birth to a healthy baby boy named Tarah. She raised Tarah throughout her depression, although, eventually, Tarah left her for a more adventurous life. Still with Lei'rala, her saber, she continued her life. One day, Shei came to her house and convinced Salsh'alei that Elune had no quarrel with Salsh. Salsh'alei, rejuvenated, continued her worship of Elune with new figures, even getting a series of tattoos to show her faith in her goddess. In an effort of forgiveness, she blessed her late mate and gave him a more formal burial, other then leaving him to rot.
Again, Shei came to her house, convincing her to fight the Orcs that had invaded Ashenvale. Once the war had calmed down enough, they went to Northrend. At the end of Northrend, they split their ways, Salsh'alei returning to Astranaar in a mere want for peace.
Salsh was born in one of the poorer places of Zin'Azshari. Her first years were peaceful enough, albeit tough for the barely getting by family. At the beginning of her sixth Night Elven year she got an abandoned saber cub. She'd promptly named the saber Lei'rala, and cooed, cuddled and played with it all day. She knew her family's condition wasn't the best, and was happy to have somebody else to play with.
Then, the War of the Ancients started. Before anybody had any clue what was going, there were screams of agony slicing the air. Salsh'alei's parents snapped their heads up, before pulling their only daughter inside. As her father hurried around, prepping their house for something Salsh'alei did not know, her mother kneeled before her.
"Daughter, you have to run." The father came by, giving their daughter a bag of food as Lei'rala only mewed next to Salsh, rubbing her ankle against the daughter's ankle. Her mother blinked back tears, "Just keep running until you're away from town... We... We'll catch up." She turned away, hurrying upstairs.
Salsh stood there, shell shocked, until her father gave her back an encouraging push, "Go!" Without another word, she got the signal and sprint out the back door into an alley. She followed the maze of alleys out of the sprawling metropolis, horrified by the visions of slaughter that she had seen at nearly every opening. She hadn't even said goodbye.
Lei'rala purred beside her, and Salsh'alei picked up the small cub, holding her and the sack as she trudged away from the town. She only looked over her shoulder once, to see a meteor, covered in felflame, crash into the place where her home had been near. She trudged for mile after mile with the food and kitten, generally untouched by the wildlife and eating only when she thought necessary.
She eventually spied a small setting up of tents in the distance, and ran there. The camp was leery of the unaccompanied child, but after listening to her story and seeing her tattered dress and lack of food, they deemed her safe and welcomed her with open arms. She was taken in by a Priestess of Elune and her mate.
She hadn't heard much about Elune previously, and the youngling quickly devoured the history lessons given to her by the Priestess. She came to believe that it was by Elune's grace that she came upon the camp, and she, inspired by the revelation, began training as a Priestess under her adoptive mother. The Sundering came as they continued their training, and her adoptive mother automatically suspected the worst, as her adoptive father had gone off with the war effort.
Slowly, the two waited by the coast, waiting and waiting for a boat, a plank, anything containing theirs truly would come back. Planks did come, but none of them carried the father. A family friend informed them of his fate, and Salsh'alei was the one forced to give the crying shoulder for the grief-distressed mother. As cheers of victory and love rang through the air, they stayed inside their small tent, mourning the death of him. Even Lei'rala had gone out to party.
Her training halted for the next few years as they moved to the town of Hyjal. After settling in, her adoptive mother set her up with formal teaching, and once again Salsh'alei was whisked away from her house. Lei'rala followed her peacefully, and she grew quite attached to him, the growing cub being the only thing to be with her forever.
By grace of luck, or, in her mind Elune, the teachers allowed her to keep Lei'rala as she trained. The Sentinels taught her many things, including, but not limited to: how to use Elune's favor to strike down your foes, how to heal your allies using Elune's favor, and how to sew. Salsh'alei was enticed by the last, primarily due to the simplicity and steadiness of it.
Her training continued for another 100 years within Hyjal. She got to see her foster mother occasionally, although not as much as she got to see her cub, who had grown quicker then it's owner. Nonetheless, the two still played around in their free time, although the playing had definitely calmed since their younger ages.
Salsh in general had calmed. The beginnings of womanhood were beginning to slowly change her physical appearance, and the training as a Priestess had changed her mentally, as well. She'd learned more about culture, about Priestess history, about Elune and the massive figures that had helped them win. With the size depicted in their learning, Salsh was surprised she hadn't seen them from her small camp.
Her training continued as her life did. Things had gotten into a routine for Salsh'alei, and she had stopped growing, mostly. Nothing about her was very eye-catching. She was an average size for female Kaldorei, and she wasn't very busty, or attractive, really. She, of course, was fine with this, as not courting with the remaining men gave her more time to her sewing. And, of course, Lei'rala had fully grown. Through all the time the two had spent together, they were quite comfortable with each other. Lei'rala often let his master use him as a pillow, or a seat, or any demeaning thing that could be really changed. Fel, Salsh'alei rarely used her saber as a mount, any more. More as a mute companion.
Salsh'alei enjoyed her simple life, but everything has to come to an end. In this case, it was her becoming a full fledged Priestess of the Moon. Of course, her adoptive mother was there, as well as a few younger Priestesses-to-be, a few Priestesses and the person to officially make her a Priestess.
On her 300th birthday, they met in the Temple. The woman to make her a Priestess stood on the steps of the Moonwell, Salsh before her, head bowed in utter humbleness. Her breathing stuck out painfully in the hushed room. "Salsh'alei Flamebanner..." The elder paused dramatically, "Today, we are here to officially initiate you into Elune's service." She rose a hand, and Salsh'alei's breathing slowed, quieted.
"I think I speak for all of us," the Priestess held out her arms, "When we say that we are -honored- to have you amongst us." She sighed, her arms folding back inwards and laying on her chest, "Now, may we only hope that you do not revert to the Shadow." A small, shallow giggle rippled through the crowd, and Salsh'alei allowed herself a small smile, her mouth still unable to create the words she felt like she needed to say.
The young woman heard a small rustle above her, and stole a glance upward. The home woven hood fell back, her hair bouncing as her mouth fell open. The elder Priestess grinned at her, arms outstretched. Clutched in her palms was a staff. Not a particularly eyecatching staff, although a simple staff fit her well. Not very special, other then the owl feather sprouting from the end. "A parting gift... From us all... May Elune's grace shine upon you, Salsh'alei, and may Nature always impart her wisdom on you."
Salsh'alei only managed a smile as she walked forward and placed a hand on the hilt of the staff. The gifter let go, withdrawing her hands. Salsh'alei withdrew her own outstretched hand, clutching the staff to her breast. The world swayed within her eyes, and she got out a choked "Thank youÃ¢â‚¬Â. Then, the world went black, and she crumpled to the ground.
Things had settled into a routine for Salsh'alei, again. She had passed her first thousand years of life, was soon approaching on her 1200th, and had started her own tailoring business within the outskirts of Hyjal. Life was good and relaxed, although the same could not be said for Lei'rala. The poor saber had nothing better to do all day then act as his mistress' chair. Salsh'alei had been contemplating moving, possibly to Ashenvale, where her companion could roam free for the day.
However, today, those plans would have to wait. A beggar came by, his social status easy to tell by his clothes. Salsh'alei nodded briefly, setting down her current sweater and pulling him by the arms. A few measures later, she gave him a sweater and pants, with a loaf of bread and a heal for a scratch on his elbow, and smiled as he walked away. She picked up her half-done sweater, humming pleasantly.
"Salsh'alei Silverthread?" The Priestess looked up from her project, a half smile indicating pleasure, "Yes?" The Sentinel clipped her Moonglaive to her belt, "Mind coming with me?" She gestured to behind Salsh's little tent. Salsh nodded, a bit confused yet nonetheless obedient.
The Sentinel cocked her head at Salsh'alei, "Are you so sure that no one will steal from you, as to leave your post unattended?" The Priestess meekly shrugged as the Sentinel's head snapped back into place, "People know that if they need something, then they can receive it for free." She smiled, tilting her head to the side, "I live only to help, of course. It is Elune's will."
The Sentinel nodded in agreement, "Regardless, you may have to leave your post for a bit longer." Salsh'alei's head returned to normal stance, and an eyebrow was raised, "Hm?" The Sentinel smiled, "My squad's last Priestess died in an attack on a Satyr Colony. We came looking for another, and they directed me to you." Salsh'alei's eyebrow settled, "And?" "Well, we were hoping you could come. A healer is essential to any good Sentinel squad."
Salsh'alei nodded. She exchanged a few more words, before returning to her stands. She set her bread outside, along with the leftover clothes, and returned home, Sentinel and Lei'rala in tow. She picked up the staff which she had let sit dormant for so long, and nodded at the Sentinel, "Alright. Where to?"
One week later, she was in Ashenvale. Lei'rala pranced about as if he were a kitten again, and Salsh'alei couldn't help but giggle as he nearly crashed into Shei, the Sentinel. Shei merely shook her head, only smirking as he pranced off again, purring loudly. Sounds of battle reached the Priestess' ears, and her eyebrow rose, pace quickening. Although, before she got far, a hand gently fell on her shoulder, holding her back. "Don't worry, they're just practicing." Salsh'alei calmed herself with a breath, before nodding and falling back into pace with Shei.
Soon enough, a break in the woods came, and with it came a series of lodges. Amongst them were Night Elf women, all dressed in the same attire, slashed mercilessly at each other with Moonglaives. With the ferocity traded between there attacks, many would believe that they were at full on war. Shei's grin told otherwise, though. She withdrew her hand from Salsh'alei's shoulder as Lei'rala returned to his Mistress's side.
"Come with me." The Sentinel motioned a hand, weaving the shocked Priestess through the crowd. The occasional fight would break up for the trainees to salute them, for which they would receive a slow nod from the Priestess. Slowly, they weaved their way through the group, and only when the crowd began to part for them did Salsh'alei realize the reassuring clank of metal on metal had stop.
The still shocked Priestess took a glance around, noticing a multitude of silver orbs on herself. She blinked, blushed, and returned her face forward, biting her lower lips in an attempt to get the heat away from her cheeks. Slowly, they got through the crowd and into a spacious lodge. The women inside, all wearing similar robes, looked at Salsh'alei simultaneously.
Slowly, they got up, to a grin from Shei, "She's all yours." One stepped forward, hand to her lip in concentration. She looked at Shei, hand falling to rest against her other arm, which was crossed over her gut, "Salsh'alei, correct?" A nod from both made her grin, and tilted her head to the side, hand rising to half-cradle her arm, "Well, Salsh'alei, welcome." She smiled, holding out a hand.
Only a few years had passed, but it had been enough for Salsh'alei to get accustomed to the culture within their squad. Sure, a few things had been surprising, but time healed all wounds, and her life had fallen into a routine. She'd have it no other way; she was helping people and was generally left alone for her day. The few that came by her were generally quick to leave, and this gave her lots of time for herself and Lei'rala. Although, as of late, even her saber had been neglecting her his presence, much preferring to prance about in the vast forest. sewing, of course, was still important in her life. What else would she do in her free time?
The Night Elf hummed. She set down her project, her humming ceasing as she sighed and looked around. Another pair approached her, one supporting the other as she limped to the Priestess. The Priestess pushed herself up, humming restarting as she made her way to the pair. Eyes darting to the intact one, a small smile found her mouth. Although, the smile was shattered as she spoke, "How long has she been like this?" Salsh'alei looked at the gash on her arm, "Just a few minutes."
Salsh'alei nodded, taking one of the dazed Sentinel's arms and leading her to a seat. She looked for Shei, who had sped off somewhere and sighed. Then, she gently laid her arms upon the wound, muttering a small prayer. A silver light flowed between her hands and the wound, and, after a few seconds of concentration, she pulled her hands away.
The Sentinel pulled her arm away, surveying the now unscarred skin happily. "Thank youÃ¢â‚¬Â. Salsh'alei shook her head, "Thank Elune, for it is her that healed you." The Sentinel nodded, turning away and trudging back to the training grounds. She'd barely turned a corner when Shei's shout rang above the faint sounds of blade on blade. "Assemble." Naturally, with her placing, Salsh'alei was one of the first there, along with a few other off-duty Sentinels and Priestesses. Shei waited patiently until all were there, before speaking.
"I have just been informed," She gestured to a figure in the door, "That all available Sentinels are to immediately report to Silithus." An excited murmur ran through the crowd, which as quieted by a raise of a hand. Shei turned around, striding to the figure and whispering in it's ear. The figure nodded, and stepped outwards. Another excited murmur ran through the crowd, and the Druid waited patiently. When the murmurs stopped, the Druid spoke, his voice booming over the quieted crowd, "As you may have noticed, I am a Male. As you also may have noticed, there are not many Males left around in the world." He smiled, "Now, if you see one, something important must be happening, correct?" A collective nod satisfied him, and he continued, "Well, something is happening. And it's very important."
He paused for the dramatic effect, "How many of you know of the Qiraji?" No hands rose to meet his call, and he nodded grimly, "That's the problem. The Qiraji are a race of insectoid men..." He paused, a grasshopper hopping onto an outstretched palm, "Must like a mix between this Grasshopper and us." This time, a nod greeted him.
"Anyway, onto business. Recently, the Silithid, minions of Qiraji, have caught our attention. Much similar to the Legion, they want to kill us and take over the world. We did an initial strike, which failed, and now, once more with the help of Dragons, we charge them." A collective gasp took them, "Of course, reinforcements are required. So, we Druids fanned out across the world, and I came upon your camp. Now, however, we need to get back." Shei stepped forward, the Druid falling back, "We leave tomorrow."
An excited murmur ran through the crowd as the two departed into their lounge, and, within minutes, the crowd had dispersed. Slowly, Salsh'alei began packing her things into Lei'rala's saddlebags, then sat back down and continued on with her sewing. Her mind was racing with thoughts, and by the time she realized what she was doing, the sweater was long enough to classify as a short dress. She stayed up until Lei'rala came back, then drifted to sleep, using her saber's stomach as a pillow.
The next day brought a flurry of activity amongst the camp. Sharpening moonglaives, saddling Sabers, dislodging lodges. By the time they left, nothing was visible of their time in the clearing.
Salsh'alei had been prepared, Lei'rala saddled and ready before most others woke up. Of course, she rarely rode on her mount. He was more of a mule then a saber, and he was okay with it, as it allowed him to prance. By noon, the group had set out, cutting through Stonetalon within the day. The rest of the trip followed without a hitch or distraction.
A few weeks later, the group had reached their destination. The impromptu camp had been bustling with activity when they got there, and the activity did not stop at all for the visitors. Salsh'alei was directed to the Healer's section, and she hurried there, surprised to see almost as many Males as Females in the mix. Hastily, she sat down and watched them prepare the bandages and other non-magical healing devices.
A male, dressed in little more then a robe, plopped down next to her, "Hey" It took her a second to register that he had greeted her, and not somebody else. She bit her lower lip, muttering a hushed "Hello" in response. They stayed like this for a few moments, their meeting a haven of quiet in the bustle of the War of the Shifting Sands war effort.
Finally, he decided to speak again, "So, you're not very social, eh?" The effort gave him another half smile and a mild shake of her head. He sighed, and they lapsed into silence again. A few minutes later, he tried again, "May I know your name?"
Salsh'alei was a bit taken aback by this question, but nonetheless was able to answer. "It's... It's Salsh'alei..." The Elf nodded, "Kalora. And you are? A Priestess, by the looks of it." He smiled and she nodded, "Are you a Druid?" The male shook his head, "Oh, no, just a warrior. They needed help lugging in the supplies." She nodded, "Ah"
They lapsed into silence again. After a while, the Male peaked his head outside. His face was beset by a frown, and he sighed, getting up. "Well, it's been lovely, but I have to go." He picked himself up, and walked outside. She watched him go.
The war effort continued, resources continuously pouring in. Then came the actual fighting. Combined with Dragons, the Night Elves pushed through Un'goro and into Silithus, fighting their insect adversaries all the way. Salsh'alei stood in the back lines, healing those that managed to get back.
A series of men ran to her tent, carrying a limp man between them. Slowly, they looked around for an open Priestess/Druid, and ran to Salsh'alei, placing the limp one in front of her. She looked at them, placing her hands on her knees to wipe them free of the accumulated dirt and sand. However, they were already off running to the battlefield.
She looked down, and gasped. It was the man from earlier! Tearing her eyes from his face, she surveyed his wounds, grimacing. A large gash had his blood trickling from a shoulder wound, and a cut in his jerkin was easily spied. She grappled at the clothing, tearing open the wound and shaking her head. A gargantuan piercing was in the heart of his chest, large enough for her fist to be shoved in. She whimpered weakly, placing her hands over the wound and muttering a simple prayer. The Light sparked on her shaking hands, yet did nothing.
This wasn't going to work. She couldn't heal this scared. So, she calmed herself, deep breaths slowly calming the shaking rocking throughout her. She bent her head down, placing her hands in a cup that completely covered the grievous wound from her sight. She took one last sight of his wounds, including the way strands of hair that mingled with his bits of flesh and the various purple blood veins that were noticeable below the skin. Then, she closed her eyes, and began to chant.
The low drone of her voice and his shallow, unconscious breathing became the only thing in her ears as she recited the chant her adopted mother had taught her the day she became a Priestess. Her own breath deepened from the exertion of Elune's will passing through her, and, as she opened her eyes, a warm heat spread through her hands. Slowly, the purple color returned to his skin, and she sighed gratefully, mentally thanking Elune.
Only then did she lean over and puke.
More and more days passed. So many passed that the tips of her fingers had become numb from the power running through them constantly. She had tied her hair back into a lank ponytail to keep it from the oozing sores and blood that still flowed. Kalore, when he'd come back to awareness, had demanded to be let back onto the field. Salsh'alei had disagreed, and they fought, which ended with Kalore sulking in a corner as Lei'rala watched him from his mistress' feet.
One male entered the camp calling with the good news of their victory. Then, the survivors came back, far fewer than originally charged with fighting the Silithid. The Medics erupted into cheers, and Lei'rala even allowed Kalore to get up to join the Medics in celebration. The two found themselves next to each other, and, whirling around, Salsh'alei threw her arms under his and embraced him tightly, weeping tears of joy.
Slowly, the now-weakened group of Sentinels returned to Ashenvale. Their leader Shei had been sent to watch to Scarab Wall. Without Shei and her discipline, the Sentinels were hopelessly confused and lost to their purpose. So, they called it quits. The majority of them returned to Hyjal, although Salsh'alei had something else in mind.
She went past Astranaar, nearly trespassing into Darkshore before going off the trail. Her eyes darted between a scrap of a paper and the lightly worn trail, before a house prevailed into view. In front of the house was a Night Elf male, silver eyes with purple hair and skin. A large scar dominated his right shoulder, and Salsh'alei grinned with recognition, "Hello, Kalore. It happened."
The Night Elf merely grinned, getting up from his chair, "I still haven't forgiven you for making me sit in that corner." Salsh'alei smirked, shrugging. He tilted his head to the side, "Where's Lei?" Salsh'alei shrugged again, and the two went in for food.
Now, one would be hasty to call their relationship as a 'Love on first sight' relationship. It had blossomed over the time via a series of meetings and letters. Fel, they weren't even in love yet. It was just more a close friendship that did not include kissing, or anything more serious then a hug. Although, things had been in their favor as of late. The Sentinels hadn't been watching Salsh'alei as closely, and Kalore had nothing better to do.
He sat her down at a table, going outside. When he returned, he handed her a slab of venison, holding another, slightly larger in his hands. She looked at him expectantly, while he tore into his. Slowly, he realized her stare, and looked up, speaking through a mouthful of half-chewed meat, "Yea?" She tapped the places where, if she had a plate, the fork and knife would be.
He sighed, shaking his head and getting up. He walked over to a drawer and pulled out a large box, before placing it in front of her. Curious, she pulled open a lower drawer and yelped. A rat climbed out and scurried to the top of the drawer, peeing peacefully as the two stared at it in disbelief.
Kalore batted at it with a hand, shaking his head, "Yea.. sorry 'bout that." The rat scurried off and into the distance. Slowly, Salsh peered into the drawer. From within the droppings and wet hay, she pulled out a knife, before dropping it. . . onto her venison. Then, she clutched her stomach and shook her head, "Sorry, not hungry." The Male grinned, "Fine by me," before continuing his assault on the venison. She crossed her arms over her chest, eyebrow cocked at him and head bowed slightly.
He looked up again, slightly annoyed, Ã¢â‚¬Å“What?Ã¢â‚¬Â She asked, "How long have you lived like this?" He shrugged, swallowing before speaking, "I 'unno. Few years?" Her eyebrow settled, "and.. a few years is a few thousand, correct?" He nodded, and she frowned, not responding. They stayed in utter silence for a few minutes, while he ate his venison and she thought. However, his venison could only last for a few minutes, and slowly, he finished.
"You eat like a Druid." He grinned at her, "I've had worse. Anyways," he nodded to the door, "Going for a walk. Want to come?" She nodded, getting up and grinning as Lei'rala pranced in at the exactly right time. Kalore reached down, scratching under her chin and striding off, away from the path. Lei'rala pranced happily after him, and Salsh'alei, seeing no other choice, followed.
They cut far into the forest, swinging around trees and giggling madly. At more then a few times, Lei'rala crashed into them, and one of them fell to the ground. Slowly, they converged onto the beach, and Salsh'alei slid her hand into his. He grinned, squeezing and leading her to the edge, where they sat down. She leaned her head on his chest, sighing contentedly as he pulled his hand from hers and lightly stroked her hair. Slowly, they fell into a utopia-like sleep, none of the world's bothers bothering them on a lightly populated stretch of heaven.
However, as all things, it could not last forever. However, it did last a hell of a long time. 1,778 years, to be exact. Of course, their relationship got farther then cuddling in that time. Their little slice of heaven persisted, albeit not much else was happening since the War of the Shifting Sands. Lei'rala and Kalore would often go off in the mornings on a hunt, leaving Salsh'alei to her own tailoring. They would come back and cook the food, while Salsh'alei and Lei'rala then spent the time together. Then, as the evening came, Lei'rala would prance off and the two would spend the rest of the night with eachother.
Although, sometimes Salsh'alei would accompany them on their walks, sometimes they would come back empty handed, and sometimes Lei'rala didn't run off. On these days, they'd usually go for a walk, or just talk. In the last case, they'd probably just continue their usual activities.
One day, at Salsh'alei's age rounding at 5,000, they came home with nothing, so the two decided to come on a walk. Lei'rala joined them happily, weaving in and out of sight as they picked their way over and under branches and roots. A wild Lei'rala jumped and slammed into his mistress' legs, which sent her toppling head-over-heels into the mud. Sighing, she picked herself up and looking over her mud-splatted clothes with distaste.
Kalore grinned at her, gesturing back with his head, "Want to go back, or continue?" He only got a simple shake of the head, "You keep going... I'll meet you at home." She placed a simple peck on his cheeks, before turning off and striding, with what dignity she had left, the other way.
She reached home simply enough, automatically going for one of the dressers. She undressed, redressed and began to hang her clothes to dry when she realized that her mate was not back yet. Worried, she gripped the staff that had hung dormant in a corner, running her fingers across the feather once in a reassuring pattern. Then, she trudged off into the woods after them.
Only the usual chirps of birds were in the forest, along with the casual snap of a twig underfoot. Eventually, a low purr, almost sounding like someone mourning, reached her ears, and she picked up her dress, hurrying forward. Lei'rala had a paw gently placed on Kalore's chest, the low purring coming from the saber's closed mouth. The saber was untouched, and yet Kalore's body was covered in gashes obviously created by a saber. Her eyes quickly scanned the area as she ran forward and widened as she saw a mutilated saber nearby. She fell to her knees beside Kalore's cold corpse. Lei'rala moved away, allowing the mate her mourning as she picked up the nearby saber corpse and carried it away, out of Salsh's line of sight.
The Priestess moaned pitifully after she checked for a pulse, falling onto the still chest in a series of wails and cries. Slowly, she collapsed around the body, clutching one of the thin arms uncertainly. Lei'rala returned, licked Salsh'alei's ear and grabbed the corpse's body, tugging on a sleeve uncertainly. Deeming it hopeless, the saber laid down and waited for the grief to pass.
It had passed by the next morning. Well, partially. But it had passed enough for Salsh'alei to be able to stand. Slowly, the Lady and the Saber lugged the corpse through the forest and back to their house. Salsh'alei continued her mourning and Lei'rala, ever patient, waited more.
Then, Salsh'alei had an idea. Why not resurrect him? So, she prepared everything. Ritualistic candles, garb, timing. Everything was ready for her to try. The corpse lay, bare naked, on the cold earth, 5 candles making a star around him. Then, she began. The Priestess' voice droned on and on and on throughout the night, and, with the fingers of morning stretching to her little altar, she finished and waited. Only after she waited for five minutes, did she give up. She left the corpse to burn, stomping back into her house and slipping away.
She changed from her former self. Elune was now an emotionless bastard, her staff was a useless piece of shit. When Lei'rala would come by, head bowed in submissive favor and deer in mouth, Salsh'alei would charge after her in a blind rage, cursing at the saber as he ran off. She survived off the saber's gifts, although barely. Only after a few weeks of this self-neglect did she realize she had missed her period.
She knew what this meant from her training. So, she fed herself more. A lot more. The barely developed fetus gladly took her food, and life returned into somewhat more of a schedule. Breakfast, sewing, lunch, cook more food, brunch, sewing, dinner and bed. Lei'rala usually, now that he was accepted again, usually spent the days curled at his mistress' feet, until he went hunting. The fetus developed comfortably in her growing stomach.
Then, her water broke. I'm not going to go into detail, but I can assure you it was unpleasant, but they both lived.
Mother, baby and saber grew up happily. Lei'rala provided enough food for them to survive comfortably, and Salsh'alei settled down, beginning to sew clothes for the new child while he was cradled in an arm. Naturally, the two became very connected, and once again Lei'rala was the outsider. However, he knew this wasn't going to last. Surely this miniature Night Elf with simple silver eyes wouldn't take his position as her sole protector.
The three grew together, their lives intertwined with each other and separate from all else. Although, having someone to talk to other then a cat did well for her sanity. As her child, newly named Tarah who surprisingly looked like his father, approached the age of 100, he asked her a question. "Mom, where are all the other Children of the Stars?" This question caught her off guard; she hadn't been thinking of the rest of their people in a while. She answered him appropriately and took one of Kalore's old map, taking it with them. She saddled Lei'rala up and dressed the two up in spiffy clothes, taking a few of the older Kaldorei currency from her days as a tailor.
They set out, the child riding the saber as the mother strode beside the saber. The journey went by uneventfully, and, soon enough, the town of Astranaar prevailed into view. They wandered in, Salsh'alei with an eyebrow raised and Tarah with his mouth opened. He hadn't expected this many of them to exist, after all. They lollygagged in the middle of a road, before a Sentinel approached them, "Ma'am, I'm going to have to a--" The hood betrayed Salsh'alei and fell back, Shei's jaw falling with it, "Salsh!"
The Former Priestess let the Sentinel lead her and her son from the hustle and bustle of the road. She led them to the edge of the lake, where Tarah decided it was a good place to take a nap. Lei'rala lay down between the two, amidst many ear scratches and coos as the two talked.
Shei was first, "I thought you were dead!" She received a shake of the head from the Former Priestess, "Oh, no. I was just having a child, and all." She smirked, "Same difference." Shei grinned at her, "Ah. Well, it's great to see that my fear was disproved. So," Shei gestured to the sleeping child with a lazy hand, "What's his name?" Salsh'alei followed her gesture, "Tarah." "Ah. And is his father Kalore?"
Salsh'alei bit her lower lip, eyes falling to the ground, like a rock. Shei, having no clue what happened, laid a hand on Salsh'alei's shoulder, "Is everything okay?" They stayed in silence for a few seconds, before the Former Priestess shook her head, "Yea, it's fine." Their conversation lapped into silence, the dull voices of merchants peddling their wears and other common city conversations the only voice.
After a bit of this, Salsh'alei got up, "Well, I'd best return home." Lei'rala followed her, Shei staying put as the three left civilization again. Once more, things fell into a routine. Salsh'alei, honestly, would have it no other way. It kept her life drama and hassle free. After all, who would purposefully want drama in their lives? Salsh'alei was perfectly fine in her family of three, even if her son did remind her painfully of her old mate at times. She would live.
However, it was beginning to seem as if no one wanted her to live in peace. One day, as she was knitting Tarah a new pair of slippers, her offspring approached, "Mother, I want to leave."
This, of course, caught her off guard. She sprung to her feet, the saber laying on her feet looking at her, quite disgruntled, before going back to bed. She shook her head, calming herself and sitting back down, "Okay... It's my fault, isn't it? Did I not make the house exciting enough?" She stood back up, Lei'rala growling and moving to a separate corner. He shook his head, but she continued, "Is it the lack of fun things to do? Is Lei not as playful? Am I not as fun to talk with?"
He shook his head, "No, no." He pinched the bridge of his nose, before taking his hands and laying them on her shoulders, "It's just that... Remember the time we went to Astranaar, and there were all those people? Well, I decided that I... need more people to be around. Mother, you can't keep hoarding me forever." He wrapped his arms around her and hugged his mother, "I'm sorry, but I need to do this, mother."
She bit her lower lip, holding back the feelings of anger and betrayal stirring in her and nodding slowly. He smiled, jingling a pouch, "I took a few silver and a map. I hope you don't care." She shook her head this time, and he squeezed her, "Sorry." He pulled his arms away, and strode out of the only home that he had known.
Slowly, she sat herself down and Lei'rala, in a better mood now, came and laid his head on her lap, "Looks like you're the only man in my life again, Lei." She bit her lower lip, biting back tears and kissing the top of the saber's head.
Millenia passed, Salsh'alei's age just past 8,000, with her staying in that little house. When she ran out of supplies, she'd go to Astranaar, sell her current not-used clothes, and buy more then a few years worth of supplies for her beloved sewing. Her and Shei talked constantly on these trips, and, one day, Shei asked if the Sentinel could follow the ex-priestess home.
Salsh'alei, surprised, agreed, and the two ventured off. The miles long hike went uneventfully, some would even consider boring. The house was just as she had left it, AKA quite dirty. Blushing, Salsh'alei threw some of the more private garments into a corner, which she covered with a rug. Shei just chuckled and sat herself down on a lounging chair, raising one arm with a limp wrist and stroking her own hair, "So, Kalore died. Tell me about it."
Salsh'alei dropped the glasses she was carrying over, "What?" She then regained herself and began sweeping up the china with a hand, "Oh, nothing. It's fine. And aren't you a bit... late?"
The Sentinel got off the couch, walking to Salsh'alei in less then a few steps. She tipped the Ex-Priestess' chin up with a gentle hand, "Love never waits." She bit her lower lip, relinquishing her grip on the Priestess and moving back to her chair, "So, explain." Her eyes glazed over the house, "I see you don't have any of Elune's relics up..." She tapped her chin, "Hm... He got a grievous wound and you couldn't heal it."
Salsh'alei meekly shook her head, turning around. She dropped the glass over a ledge, to where a few mice scurried and took it to their nests. She turned back to Shei, pushing herself up onto the ledge, "That's not what happened at all." Halfway through the story, her voice cracked, and Shei grinned.
"Salsh'alei, I've spent more then enough time with you to know you," she rose a hand to the roof, lightly caressing an overhang, "Salsh... Let me guess... A piece of the roof fell on him?" Salsh'alei shook her head, "Lei'rala didn't get fed enough?" The Cat perked his head up at his name, and resettled to another head shake, "Hm... Bear?"
The answer to this was postponed, and Shei smiled warmly, "Ah... and you blamed Elune? Did she not bring him back?" Salsh'alei gave up, and nodded. Shei sighed, "So, you blame the whole death thing on Elune..." The Sentinel got to her feet in a graceful movement, and sighed again, "Salsh'alei, you must have forgotten something. It is not Elune's choice whether someone comes back or not, it's the person's and yours." She stroked a nearby pillar, "Most likely you weren't powerful enough, considering how you two loved each other enough to use a saber as a messenger." She grinned, "It's not Elune's fault."
It hit Salsh'alei like Agamaggan at full speed. Elune had never done her any wrong. She merely wasn't powerful enough to harness the power needed in a resurrection. Enlightened, she wrapped her arms around Shei, "Thank you!" The Sentinel merely grinned, hugging the rejuvenated Priestess in return.
"Now," the Sentinel held the Priestess at arms length, "I'd best be going back to town. Have fun, Salsh'alei Silverstring." She gave the Priestess one more hug, and walked out. Lei'rala, excited by all the joy, pranced over to Salsh'alei and licked her hand. Salsh'alei rubbed under his chin with the hand, still smiling widely.
At early Night, she went to where she had attempted to resurrect her mate. One moon ray fell on herself, another on the small, unadorned grave. Bathed in the light of her goddess, she began to chant a simple prayer. No, not one for resurrection, but one simply to ensure that her mate would have a good life with her Mistress, and that they would forgive her for her sins.
As she finished, a large ray of moonlight completely covered her and the grave. The widow batherin the serene light, swore she saw Kalore's spirit float up to the moon.
Rejuvenated, she began her fanatic worship of Elune again. She deemed her mere worship not enough to forgive herself, so she, through an elaborate ritual concerning planning, multiple cuts and ink, Shei gave her a series of tattoos that covered her entire body. The tattooing and the worship would continue for the next 2,000 years. The thousands of years of seclusion affected her personality as she became more withdrawn and shy. Her body remained the same strong, supple, untouched by aging or any scars except for the ritualistic tattooing scar.
One day, a few years ago, Shei came to her house. A green skinned race had began to attack Ashenvale, and Salsh'alei was called for war again. So, she got redressed in the Cerulean Robe and Hood that had accompanied her for years, covered Lei'rala in a light mesh and got her staff, then followed Shei to war. The Orcs amazed her, yet their attempts to cut down her forest enraged her. She, once again, was sent to healing and, when absolutely necessary, fighting with Elune's grace.
She was sent to Hyjal, where both her and Shei lived and fought. Afterwards, they agreed to go their own ways and see what they could do for themselves. Salsh'alei returned to the war, and fought Orcs as a healer and fighter. Of course, when she fought, she stayed in the back, with Lei'rala protecting her from any Orcs that managed to get through the front lines. She stayed away from the Burning Crusade, and yet, when the call to fight the Lich King came, she went with them.
She stayed in Dragonblight with the 7th Legion, and, when the Lich King died, she automatically returned home. She stayed there, sewing peacefully with the occasional visit from Shei. Before long, however, she decided that she would be more useful for Elune fighting instead of sewing. Still harboring her deep hatred for everything nearly demonic, her and her long time companion, Lei'rala, set out.