Celera's Story

[Celera]

This is not quite a biography, just the beginning of my story. I will add to it as I can.


Celera had always loved being in the water. Whether it was the bracing chill of Lake Darrowmere or the soft warmth of Booty Bay, in the water she felt a sense of tranquility that eluded her elsewhere. Even the murky, unhealthy waters of the Plaguelands were less troubling than its fetid air.

Of course, dangers lurked in the water too, but dangers lurked everywhere. Here in Teldrassil, most of the creatures that used to be dangerous somehow knew that she was no longer so vulnerable, and they generally left her alone.

From her bags, she took a package. As she saw the druid’s handwriting, addressing the package to her, she felt the old sadness rippling through her. But the ripples were not the engulfing waves that they had been months ago. She let the feeling subside, then tore open the package, finding several bottles of various colored liquids. She took one of the bottles in her hand, and put the rest away.

She took off her heavy armor and weapons, dove into the lake, swam out a distance from the dock and floated on her back for a moment. She opened the bottle, and drank down the few drops of blue liquid it contained. A sense of lightness went through her, and she dove under the water, knowing that the potion would make it possible for her to stay there for many more minutes than usual.

Hovering near the bottom of the lake, she cleared her mind, her eyes observing the lazy motion of the weeds and the flickering of light on the smallfish that darted about. She let her mind rest on these things, not analyzing or evaluating, just observing them. She had learned that resting the mind, letting it take in the sights, sounds and smells of the world, often opens the mind to insights from the unseen world as well.

A memory came back to her, as clear as if it had happened that day. She and her father were swimming in the lake, racing from one side to the other. It was only years later she realized that he had let her win to encourage her. Later, she and Larae would dive again and again, trying to catch smallfish in their hands. When Celera caught one, she ran over to her parents, who were sitting close together, conversing quietly. Her mother smiled at Celera’s pride in the wiggling fish. “Can you catch enough for dinner?” she asked. “Will you help?” the little girl responded, knowing what that would mean. Her mother stood, walked into the water a ways, and then dove in, transforming as she did so into a strange and wonderful water creature able to dive and swim faster even than her father. Celera and Larae laughed, dove, raced and romped in the water with their mother, and soon their father would join in the fun. Finally, late in the day, they would go home to rest, feeling tired, happy and safe.

So much happened later, so many troubles, disappointments and sorrows. Childhood had been so short. These days, Celera rarely felt happy, and almost never felt safe. But it was a comfort to recall that these things had once been possible. Perhaps one day they would be possible again.

[Windfoot]

((Off to a great start! Nice to have another strong writer amongst us . I look forward to watching the story as it unfolds.))

[Kalmorith]

((Yes, well done! Took me right there, you did.))

[Celera]

Well, here is the next bit of the story. I've always wanted to write a book but didn't know what it should be about. Now that I've started, I can't hardly stop.

Celera stood in the reeds, Tim at her side. As always, she waited until the right moment came, then aimed carefully and brought down the nearest murloc with a single shot. As Tim ran into the group, Celera ran backwards, taking out another murloc or two with arrows.

One day Celera’s father, Anishar, said they would be going on a trip. They had often been to Darnassus, which was near their home, but this time they were going to ride a boat on the ocean to a place called Auberdine and from there to Moonglade, where their mother had studied to become a druid. As they waited for the boat, Celera’s parents seemed to be discussing something serious. “I’m just going to talk to them, Narianna,” her father said. “And then we will come back home and everything will be fine.” But her mother looked sad and turned away without answering.

While Anishar went about his business in town, Larae played on the beach, collecting rocks and shells. Celera sat near her mother, taking in the strange surroundings. Narianna stared off at the horizon, seeming to be in another world.

When a tide crawler came by, Larae ran after it. The crawler moved faster, and before anyone noticed she was quite far down the beach. Celera began to run after her, trying to call her back, but it was too late. A strange fishlike creature, walking on two legs and not much bigger than the girls, grabbed Larae and wrestled her to the ground. From the edge of the water, several more of the awful creatures appeared, making gurgling growling noises. They seemed strong for their size and carried weapons as well.

Narianna was right behind them, shooting moonfire and starfire spells into the group. But there were so many murlocs, and Narianna was not skilled in fighting. In moments she was knocked down and seemed unconscious. Suddenly the largest of the creatures turned and looked Celera in the eye, and without thinking Celera pulled out the small dagger her father had given her and hurled it into the creature’s hateful, slimy face. The creature fell to the ground, and others came running toward Celera making their horrible noises.

Just then she saw rapid glints of light off metal, and her father appeared in the midst of the creatures, daggers in each hand. Just behind him came two dwarves, grimly swinging their heavy axes. Between the three of them, the creatures were quickly defeated. Only one or two escaped to the safety of the water.

“Bloody murlocs,” one of the dwarves said, putting his axe back in its sheath. “That’s the advantage of livin’ in the snow and ice, my friend. None of these wretched creatures can be found in Dun Morogh.”

Anishar thanked the dwarves, and they waved off his words with a “’Twas nothin’ lad” and walked away. Anishar picked up his wife, and carried her over to the grass. He held her tenderly, whispered something in her ear, and gave her a few drops of red liquid from a vial. This began to revive her, and after a moment she was sitting up. Anishar began to walk over to the girls, but stopped when he noticed the large murloc with the dagger in its head. “Celera,” he said, “isn’t this your dagger?”

“Yes, I threw it at the big creature,” she said.

“From over there?” her father asked. She nodded.

Her father gave her a curious look. The dagger had landed squarely between the murloc’s eyes. Anishar pulled it out, wiped it off, and brought it back to his daughter.

“Celera, you must promise me two things,” he said, kneeling down to look her in the eye. “First, you must always look after your sister. And second, you must always keep your weapon with you.”

“I promise,” the little girl said solemnly.

The last few murlocs were finished off by Celera’s dagger and Tim’s sharp teeth. When it was over, Celera cleaned off her weapons, retrieved most of her arrows and walked away. The druids had taught her that life should never be taken unnecessarily, and she lived by that principle. But she made an exception when it came to murlocs.

[Celera]

Signs of Trouble

Life on Teldrassil was peaceful and pleasant. Celera and her sister learned to read and write in the elven and common tongues. They learned to fish, and to gather herbs and berries for meals. No other elven children lived near by, but the girls often played with the young furbolgs, for in those days the furbolg were still gentle and friendly.

A few weeks after the trip to Auberdine, some dwarves came to visit Celera’s father Anishar. Over dinner, they spoke together of far away places, strange people, and a brewing war. The girls were sent to bed after dinner, but Celera stayed awake and listened to the talk until the guests finally left.

The next day, Anishar packed up a few things, and told the girls that he was going away for a few days. “Are you going with those dwarves?” Celera asked.

“Yes,” Anishar said. “They need my help.”

”So do we.” Narienna began, but he frowned at her. “You will all be fine,” he said. “I will only be gone for a few days, and when I return everything will be as it has always been.” He kissed them all good-bye and left. Narienna began to weep, and hardly stopped for two days.

Eventually it seemed she could cry no more, but she still behaved strangely. She lay in her bed until late in the morning, then walked aimlessly around the nearby woods until it was dark. She sat up staring at the fire until far into the night. Narienna was a bowyer, but her work sat in a corner collecting dust. Celera did as much as she could to help around the house, and to keep Larae entertained, for Larae was a lively child and the noise seemed to make their mother angry. Sometimes Celera would try to talk with her mother, hoping to get her to smile or take an interest in something, but it rarely worked and never for long.

Things were not quite right with the furbolg either, it seemed. Celera noticed that more and more often the furbolgs seemed to be taking turns acting as sentries around their camp. She thought it must be because of the war talk, although it seemed strange that they should be so suspicious of their own neighbors in the isolation of Teldrassil. One day as she approached the camp, one of the furbolg stopped her. “What is your business here?” he asked gruffly. Surprised, she said, “I came to see if Togtin wants to help me look for peacebloom.” The furbolg looked at her quite strangely for a moment – Celera was suddenly rather afraid of him – but then he smiled. “Of course,” he said. “Togtin is in the hut with his mother.”

After a month or so, Anishar returned. He brought small gifts for the girls and their mother, and everyone seemed happy again for a day or two. But it didn’t last long, and again Celera lay awake listening to her parents talk.

“You don’t seem to understand how important this is,” her father said. “There are horde encampments even in Ashenvale, and Nigel’s Point is nearly the only safe place in Desolace.”

“Why do you care what happens in that desert?” her mother answered. “Why is that more important than taking care of your family?”

”What care do you require here in Teldrassil?” her father demanded. “Everything you need grows or lives within an hour’s walk. Your brother and his family are nearby, and I have left you with extra gold in case your bowcrafting is not sufficient.”

“What if you never return, Anishar?” Narienna whispered, near tears again. “If anyone realizes who you are, you would be killed, and I would never even know what had become of you.”

“Actually, I have thought about that and I have a plan. I intend to bring Celera with me.”

There was silence, during which Celera could hardly breathe. When Narienna spoke again, she was angry. “You cannot be serious,” she said. “She would be in constant danger!”

”I would keep her safe, Narienna, you know that,” her father answered. “And I would be safer as well. A craftsman, traveling with his daughter as his apprentice, would draw much less suspicion. Besides, she is not a small child anymore, and she would be able to see all of Kalimdor. Think of what she would learn!”

“What will I do here without either of you,” her mother wept. “Larae is such a mischievous child, I never have a moment’s peace as it is. You cannot do this to me.”

”You could move closer to Dolanaar, where others could help with the child.” Anishar suggested, impatiently. “These are not difficult problems, Narienna, compared to the trouble that threatens our whole people and our homelands.”

Their talk went on like this until far into the night, but Celera could no longer listen, as she thought about the idea of traveling the world. The idea that such travel might be dangerous did not occur to her, for after all, she would be with her father.

Celera’s travels

Celera and her father left the next day, taking the boat to Auberdine again. They traveled together for many weeks, all over Kalimdor. Anishar was a skilled leatherworker, and he worked in the various towns and villages mending clothing and armor, selling new garments, and trading leather, hides, and other items. He taught Celera how to cure hides and how to make simple items like patches to strengthen armor that had begun to wear. She liked working the leather, and she loved riding with her father on the nightsaber.

There were many wonderful and strange things to see. Riding into the glorious colors of Ashenvale for the first time took her breath away. The ancient ruins scattered around left her amazed, sad, and proud of her ancestors who once had done such extraordinary things. She saw other kinds of people too – dwarves like the ones who had visited her home, and humans riding their beautiful high-spirited horses. Once she even saw a human riding a horse whose hooves were on fire, although her father said they weren’t really burning. In Astranaar her father introduced her to a small party of gnomes. They were shorter even than dwarves, with odd high voices and very quick ways. They were rather startling to watch, and even more so when one of them rode away on the strangest horse. It seemed like a suit of armor made into a horse-shape, and it made a much worse smell from under its tail than any other creature she had ever seen.

When they reached the farthest end of Ashenvale, her father told her they were now going to a new place. “Tomorrow,” he said, “we will ride out into the Barrens. This is not elven territory, so we must be careful. Remember everything I have told you. We cannot make any mistakes.”

In the morning they set out, past the edge of the pink and green forest, and into a vast flat land surrounded by steep hills. It was so different from anything Celera had seen, and the creatures who lived there were different too. They rode on for days, seeing only the animals, staying away from the main roads, until they reached a town by the ocean called Ratchet.

Ratchet was more interesting than any of the other places had been. The town was filled with people of all different types. There were the goblins, which looked rather like turtles that had lost their shells. There were Orcs, rough, powerful people who laughed and argued even louder than dwarves. Celera had seen Tauren before, when she went to Moonglade with her mother, but the Tauren here had a fierce look about them.

As Anishar spoke with one of the goblins about trading skins, Celera saw two very odd looking elves. They were stooped over, as if they had long carried heavy packs. They had long, pointed teeth, and they were the strangest color. “Father,” she asked quietly (not wanting to be rude), “what is wrong with those elves?”

”Those are not elves at all, “ her father answered gruffly. “They are trolls, and they are completely different from elves. They are part of the Horde, they are cruel and violent and not like us at all.” Celera nodded solemnly, not wanting her father to be angry, but for the first time in her life she was not sure her father was entirely correct.

During the day they worked as usual, and in the evenings they went to a local pub where Anishar ate and drank with several of the goblins and other visitors to the strange town. The goblin who owned the pub often visited with them far into the night, even after the other guests had left for the evening. One such night, the goblin and Anishar were having such a conversation.

“Your mug is empty, my friend,” Anishar said. “Let me go fill it for you.” The goblin started to protest that a customer shouldn’t be doing the work, but Anishar ignored him and after a moment brought back two fresh mugs of ale. The two of them drained the mugs, and Anishar stood up. “I’m afraid I must be going,” he said, rather briskly. “Celera, come along.” As she came to her father’s side, he took her hand and whispered, “Just follow me and don’t look back.”

As her father led her hastily toward the door, Celera heard a strange gurgling sound. She turned around just in time to see the goblin turn a deep shade of purple and fall to the floor. Anishar pulled her along and as soon as they were out of the pub, they ran for the nightsaber, which had already been prepared for travel. In the distance she saw one of her father’s dwarf friends wave to them and then head out of town in another direction.

“But father, I think that goblin was ill,” Celera said, somehow knowing it was worse than that. “He was a spy, and many of our allies have died because of him,” Anishar answered. He never said anything else about the incident, and Celera never asked.

Return to Teldrassil

After so many strange sights and experiences, Celera was happy when they were finally back in Darnassus. She and her father rode out through the city to the small family home. But something was wrong. The house was empty, and in disrepair. There was no sign of Narienna or Larae.

They walked over toward the furbolg camp, thinking to inquire where the rest of the family had gone. But something was wrong there too. The furbolg no longer just had a guard posted. They looked at Celera and Anishar with hateful eyes, and waved their weapons threateningly. Celera was startled to see that one of the angry furbolg was her old friend Togtinc.

”Togtinc, it’s me, Celera. We’re friends, don’t you remember?” She said to him, getting as close as she dared. He looked at her suspiciously. “We went to the lake and dove for stranglekelp. I scraped my knee and your mother bandaged it…” her voice trailed off. Togtinc looked at her for a moment, almost like his old self but very sad. Then his eyes went mad again and Celera and her father had to run for their lives, as they still did not wish to fight with their old friends.

Their concern for the furbolg had to be put aside, though, for their greater concern about Narienna and Larae. They rode back to Darnassus, and to the Cenarion Circle, where Narienna’s brother was one of the druid trainers.

“Fylerian, where is my wife,” Anishar asked. His worry made him sound angrier than perhaps he intended.

“Greetings, Anishar” Fylerian answered. “Hello, Celera.”

“Greetings,” Anishar answered impatiently. “Where are my wife and my child?”

“Your concern is overdue, Anishar. Narienna was not well,” Fylerian answered. “You should have been here.”

”She was well when I left. I thought you were going to look after her.”

”She was not well when you left, and she got worse. I did look after her, but a brother is not a husband, Anishar. It was you she needed. There was nothing more we could do for her.”

For a moment, Anishar flushed, and he looked afraid, which Celera had never seen before. “For Elune’s sake, tell me what has happened to her,” he said, in a softer tone.

“She is in Moonglade, with the child,” Fylerian said. “I took them there myself and left them in Dendrite’s care.”

Before Celera had time to say good-bye to her uncle, Anishar had taken her by the hand and they were back out on the boat, headed to Auberdine and from there to Moonglade. They traveled without stopping for food or rest until they arrived there.

[Windfoot]

((wow! amazing story!))

[Celera]

Moonglade

When they arrived in Moonglade, the sentinels took Anishar and Celera to see Dendrite Starblaze, the master of the druid’s sanctuary there. Anishar impatiently asked where his wife and daughter were, but the druid was not easily pressured. “Sit down a moment,” he said to them, “we will have some tea and talk a bit.”

As they drank their tea, the druid told them about Narienna and Larae’s arrival in Moonglade. “When Fylerion brought them here, they had scarcely eaten in days. Narienna seemed unable to do anything but stare off into the diKelynce. The child had no food but apples that she found in the forest near the house. The forests of Teldrassil are no place these days for a child of her age.”

“My children know how to take care of themselves in the woods,” Anishar said rather indignantly. “They know how to avoid the nightsabers and the spiders, or how to fight them off. But, something is wrong with the furbolg. They attacked us when we tried to speak with them,” Anishar said.

“I have heard reports of such trouble in many parts of Kalimdor,” the druid answered. “And you have taught your children well, but there are many years from being taught to being sure of safety. These skills must be practiced under a watchful eye for a long time before they are mastered.”

”I don’t need to be told how to raise my children,” Anishar answered, rising to his feet. “And now, if you will tell me where my wife is…”

Starblaze called over a sentinel and gave the necessary instructions. Celera and her father were led to one of the inns, and the family was reunited.

The next days were happy ones for Celera. She had always liked Moonglade. Narienna was glad to see her husband and daughter, and listened with interest for a while to the tales of their travels. But sometimes, in the midst of a conversation, the sad, faraway look returned to her eyes for a while.

Larae had grown older, and proven to be a clever student, when she could be made to sit still for any lessons. She spent much of her time exploring the woods and streams, and talking with the various residents of the enclave. Celera had always been rather shy, and she was amazed at how easy it was for her sister to talk with people, forever asking questions and laughing merrily.

As the days wore on, however, Anishar became increasingly restless. There was little for him to do in Moonglade. He made some fine leather armor, but although he was skilled in his craft it did not much interest him. Living under the authority of the druids also grated on him. He began to talk of leaving for a while. The more he talked of it, the more his wife relapsed into the strange, sad daze that had enveloped her before. The more sad and helpless she seemed, the more frustrated her husband became. Finally, he went to the druid leader and said that he would be leaving, and taking his children with him.

Starblaze encouraged him to leave the children in Moonglade, but Anishar would not agree. “I am perfectly able to look after my own children. Narienna seems to need your help, but I do not,” he declared.

The next day, the three of them set out from Moonglade toward Auberdine, where they stayed for a few days before taking a boat across the great sea to the Eastern Kingdoms.

Anishar and Celera traveled as they had before, except now Celera had the responsibility of looking after her sister, as well as helping with the leatherworking.

A Mistake

It was a warm humid night in Booty Bay, like most nights there. It is the kind of town where a fight could break out and people ten feet away wouldn’t even pay attention, unless they wanted to wager on the outcome.

Anishar and the girls had been traveling with a dwarf named Kelyn. Kelyn was an old friend of his, and the girls knew him well. They were in Booty Bay so Kelyn could meet up with his wife, Gleann, who had traveled all that way to see her husband. At least, that was why Anishar said they were there. Celera had learned that there was always another reason for the places they went, always other things her father had to do there. She had learned not to ask too many questions.

They met Kelyn’s wife at the boat, and together they ate dinner at the strange inn, which was inside of an old ship. Anishar was quiet and watchful at dinner. Kelyn, like most dwarves, ate and drank and laughed heartily. He was even cheerier than usual, being in the company of his wife. The two of them joked and told stories for a long time. The girls enjoyed the stories, and told some of their own. Anishar had little patience for childish conversation, but Kelyn and Gleann seemed to enjoy talking with them.

After the dinner was over, Anishar took the girls to a nearly empty room below one of the shops. “Wait here,” he said. Celera nodded as he repeated the instructions she had been given so many times. “Keep quiet, watch your sister, and don’t leave here until I come and get you. Be careful – no mistakes.”

Usually the warning weighed on her – no mistakes. But tonight she felt warm and happy after the meal and the company of the dwarven couple, and besides, this room was not completely empty. There were books. Celera loved books, and rarely had any to read. She thumbed through them and found that one talked of the history of trolls.

“I’m thirsty,” Larae said. “Let’s go get something to drink.”

“No, we have to stay here,” Celera said, distractedly. She was reading about two ancient tribes of trolls. One of them still lived near Booty Bay – she had glimpsed their settlement from the road.

“I’m going upstairs to see if they will give me some water,” Larae said. Celera grunted, absorbed in a new discovery. The writer told of a small, ancient group of trolls that had become elves. She had noticed how similar trolls were to elves, and here was an historian with an explanation. They had all come from the same ancestors! She put the book down, looking forward to telling her father about the discovery, when she realized Larae was gone.

Up the stairs she ran, just in time to see her father a short diKelynce away, apparently conducting some business with two orcs. There was a goblin who seemed to be mediating the transaction. Gleann was nearby, talking with the fish vendor. Kelyn was nowhere to be seen.

Larae was just a few feet ahead of Celera, but it was too late – Larae was already running toward her father. “Daddy, Celera won’t let me get a drink” she cried, hugging his leg. Anishar smiled with his lips but shot Celera an angry look that made her heart sink. “Hi Gleann,” the child called out, waving to the dwarf. “Where is Kelyn? Is he hiding?"

The goblin immediately became suspicious. “You said you didn’t bring that dwarf spy here,” he said to Anishar. The orcs apparently knew enough of the common speech to underKelynd the situation. Just as Celera caught up with her sister, the orcs and the goblin pulled out weapons. One of the orcs fell forward, a knife in his back and Kelyn right behind him. Anishar grabbed the girls and pushed them a few feet away. The two watched in terror as Anishar and Kelyn fought the other three. Blades flashed quickly, and the orc’s mace thudded heavily many times. When it was over, the orcs lay dead. The goblin was gone, and Anishar was kneeling over the body of his friend.

Gleann rushed over and the two of them called for a priest or a doctor, but there was none nearby. Kelyn had been killed by the orc’s huge mace. Gleann wept, and Anishar had a dark and ominous look as he turned toward the girls.

He picked Larae up in his arms, and looked at Celera. “This,” he said slowly, “was your fault. I told you we could not have any mistakes.”

Separate Ways

Decisions had to be made quickly. All of them needed to leave Booty Bay, so they traveled directly to Gleann’s home in Loch Modan. The whole trip Anishar never spoke to Celera. She hardly ate and was afraid to sleep – whenever she dozed off she woke up terrified from dreams she could not remember.

They stayed for several days in Loch Modan with Gleann. One night over dinner, Anishar said that it was time for him to move on, there was something he needed to do in a placed called Winterspring. “Will the girls be going with you?” Gleann asked.

“Celera will go home to her mother. She is nearly grown, it is time for her to take some responsibility. She can look after her mother and study with the druids. You still want to become a druid don’t you?” he said, without actually looking at her.

“Yes, father,” she replied quietly.

“I don’t know what to do with Larae,” he continued. “She cannot come with me, that much is clear. Her mother hasn’t the patience to deal with her, but …”

Gleann interrupted. “Leave her here with me,” she said. Anishar and Celera both looked at her in surprise. “Kelyn and I had no children,” she explained. “Larae likes me, she likes it here in Loch Modan. I need something to do, and her cheerful nature is a comfort to me. You can come and get her whenever you are ready, of course.”

The next morning, Celera and her father said good-by to Larae and Gleann. There was no weeping, for Larae was excited about visiting longer with the dwarves, Anishar seemed relieved, and Celera had learned it was best not to cry around her father. Anishar accompanied Celera to Ironforge, and made arrangements for her to return to Moonglade, traveling with an elven couple who were going there also. He put Celera on the gryphon and, for the first time since they left Booty Bay he looked her in the eye. He said goodbye, and it seemed that he was a little sad, but it had gotten hard to tell what he was feeling. As Celera watched him walk away, she knew it would be a long time before she saw him again.

[Emizael]

More! More! come on, write some more already!!! cheese!

[Celera]

((Well, Emizael, since you asked, here is what I believe is the last chapter of the biography. Now stop bugging me! ))

Celera sat under the tree in the soft green light of a Moonglade afternoon, diligently reading a book. She had read it before, several times, but there was something she was missing, and she hoped that she would find the answer if she looked just a little harder.

“The dream is different for everyone,” her teachers kept saying. “It is not something you do, exactly. There is no one correct method.” But clearly she was doing something wrong, because it just wasn’t working, and she had been trying for weeks. She had never tried harder at anything.

When Celera was a small child, she had wanted to be able to turn into a bear or a cat like her mother. But of course she had long since learned that being a druid was more than a magic trick. She had spent most of her life outdoors, and the voices of living things, even the trees and flowers, spoke to her in their own ways. She especially bonded with creatures – even as a child she often had rabbits or turtles or even spiders that followed her home. She had always loved the teaching of the druids, and becoming one had never been in question. But now it was just like a puzzle that she couldn’t quite solve.

She sighed as she came again to the end of the chapter on entering the Emerald Dream. She closed the book and set it aside, reciting from memory the “Five Easy Steps” that the text described. Closing her eyes, she followed the instructions, trying not to focus her mind on any particular thought. Soon it would be dinnertime, and she had forgotten to bring her mother some … stop! Deep breaths. Her leg itched. Maybe she should get some of that herbal paste for … damn! She shook her head, as if these random thoughts could somehow be tossed out into the air. Deep breaths again. Just focus on the air coming into your lungs … maybe it would work better if she tried to concentrate on something else. A leaf blew by, drifting along on a breeze. That’s what is should be like, she thought, like a leaf just fluttering by with no effort. Her eyes followed the leaf, as it ran into a tree trunk and fell to the ground. Yup, that’s me all right, she thought with a sigh.

It was time to go home anyway, and prepare the evening meal for herself and her mother. At least she could usually do that correctly, although her mother found fault with the choice of the food or the way it was prepared. Those were the good nights. On the bad nights she just stared into space and wouldn’t eat anything.

Celera had spent her whole life trying really hard to do things well. “No mistakes,” her father had said, so many times, and she had often seen the results of small errors. He would find crooked stitches in her leatherworking, and he would rip the garment apart at the seams to show her how it would tear when it was worn. Disappointed customers would not buy again, and would tell others, and if a tradesman did not have a good reputation he was ruined. Celera learned to make each stitch with care and precision, and she learned to do other things with the same measured caution. If errors were a problem in leatherworking, they were much worse in her father’s real profession. A glance or a frown could raise suspicion and suddenly an informant would walk away, or the two of them would once again have to leave town in the middle of the night.

Or worse things would happen. After many months, she still often woke from the same dream, with the same hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach. Even after she awoke, the dwarf’s face still hovered before her eyes. A dwarf alive moments ago but now dead. Larae and Gleann crying. And her father’s voice, saying “You should have done as I told you. This was your fault,” as he picked up the body of his friend. She didn’t really expect to ever stop feeling guilty about that. It was a mistake big enough for a whole lifetime.
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Finally a day came when she had accomplished all the tasks that were required to begin learning bear form. Of course, she did not admit that often she could not summon the spells that were expected, and substituted a few quick strokes with her dagger instead.

She climbed the stairs to the room where Dendrite Starblaze usually spent his days in study and contemplation. He looked at her thoughtfully as they discussed how her work was progressing, and she was afraid he was going to tell her that she was not ready. But after a pause, he told her to go, and as she walked away he closed his eyes and she knew he was communicating somehow with the Bear Spirit that she was going to see.

Having lived in Moonglade much of her life, she had seen the Great Bear Spirit many times. She had never heard him speak, although he looked at her with eyes as deep as the earth itself and seemed to know all about her. As she respectfully approached the Bear his gaze met hers, but this time he spoke. “Why are you here, child?” the rumbling voice said. Celera was confused. Surely the Bear knew why she was there – Dendrite would have told him, even if he had not known already. “I seek to learn about the ways of the bear,” she said hesitantly.

“I know what you seek, child,” the voice answered. “But why? Why are you walking down this path that is not yours to take?”

Celera was stunned. She knew what the Bear was supposed to say. She had heard the story often enough. “But, this has always been my path. I have the strength of heart and of body that is required,” she protested, as if prompting the Bear would cause it to say the usual things.

“Indeed, you have strength enough, and more. And you will need it,” the Bear said. “Your path is not easier, just different. You have known this for a long time.”

As soon as the Bear said this, Celera knew it was true. And yet it was also a shock. “I have dreamed of being a druid all my life. Is it never to be?” she asked.

“I see what is, not what will be,” the Bear replied. “And I see that there is work for you to do, and you must find it and set about doing it.”

The Bear said nothing more, and after a few more minutes Celera turned back to Nighthaven. She would have to talk to Dendrite, although he probably already knew what had transpired. And she would have to talk to her mother, and face her disappointment, or her apathy, depending on how Narienna felt that day. After that, she didn’t have any idea what she would do.

_____________________________________________________

A few days later, her uncle Fylerian came for a visit. Looking back, Dendrite had probably summoned him, but at the time it seemed a fortunate coincidence. “Celera, I’m glad you’re here!” he said cheerily. “I have something for you.” He handed her a small worg pup. “It is from far away, near Ironforge,” he explained. “I went there to assist some friends in a dangerous mission, and there were many orcs and ogres with huge worgs. We had to kill the worgs to defend ourselves, and then I found this pup, an orphan.”

Celera cradled the creature – small for a worg but still an armful – and looked into its eyes. The pup licked her and then snuggled into her arms, seeming to feel right at home. In the next few days it never left her side. It was a clever beast, and quickly learned what was expected of it. Soon, she and her uncle took it out hunting, and the worg chased after rabbits and squirrels, hold their attention while Celera fired off an arrow, maybe two if the prey was larger.

The night before he was to leave, her uncle asked her what she was going to do next. “I don’t know,” she said. “I’ve never thought of being anything else but a druid. I don’t know what else I can do. And, I don’t think I can leave my mother.”

“My dear girl,” her uncle interrupted. “You will find that you are able to do a great many things.” He paused, choosing his words carefully. “You have shouldered burdens that should not have been yours to carry. It is time for you to set them down. Come to Teldrassil when you are ready. I will introduce you to some of the teachers there, and you can begin to find your own destiny.”

It didn’t take long for Celera to make up her mind. Leaving her mother and the puppy in the care of the druids, she set out for Teldrassil, ready to try again.

[Kalmorith]

((Well-done, Celera. I like your writing style...reads smoothly! You have a careful and measured pace, that I like. Will there be more? Hint, hint...))

[Emizael]

(( takes notes, and steals ideas.....)) ;D

Good story!!

[Celera]

((Will there be more?

I don't have any plans to add more here to the bio itself, but who knows. At the moment I have some work to do with Thelanya, both in the game and in her story.))