Power and Possession – A Warlock’s story [Sharona]

[Ankhera]

The wind blew across the pale profile and caused a tickle at her cheek... a mixture of ebon spirals and delicate fingers attempting to catch and corral them quickly. They returned to the parchment before her; trembling with the vibrations of the magical quill as it began to scratch out her story.

"Not all that you see is easily understood or explained...”

How true I have found these words to be in my young lifetime. Young, you might ask? Aye... though more than a hundred years have passed through the lenses of mine eyes, I have youth to thank for being able to withstand all that I have seen.

I am Elvin... and I am old and yet young. I will attempt to explain... this is my story and my life.

"Do not hesitate nor lie, for the magic’s cast upon this quill will route you out and write the truth that you feel, hear or see. The quill will not lie for you.” He had simply left and closed the door quietly behind him; this teacher that she called friend, too. Although the closing of that heavy oaken portal seemed a death knell once the air in the room stilled again.

Born into nobility and money... Into the circles of power and those who hungered for more, I was deemed a lucky child. My esteemed Father and Mother were always entertaining guests and we children were only background noise. Petted and patted like a favored rabbit when these dazzling guests arrived. Made up with wicket barrettes of multifaceted gems and braids entwined to make silken sashes, gently laid upon the heads up the most beautiful; painfully so, Elvin women you could hope to see. Their dresses made of magical materials so gossamer as to be the wind and dance in it. The Men were just as mystical and majestic. They too would display their wealth, as the women, in their finery and fanfare. So many servants scrambled around them to accommodate. Finery that you did not dare to touch or remark upon… at least in mixed company.

There is diversity in any race and the Elvin are no different. We have young, the old, the poor and the rich. But here gathered the most powerful of all of them... to include a Prince and his consorts and the court that followed him like lambs sweetened for the slaughter. We, as a people, are not immune to the effects of evil and greed and have paid our prices; each, for the pain and suffering we have wrought upon others in our attempt for glory of our own.

But I was among them and favored. Considered beautiful of mind, body and face I was thrust into circles that were beyond the hope and reach of most. I struggled to maintain the image that my parents expected me to – beauty, brains, delicate and soft. Perhaps if I had been sickly like my Brother…

The quill vibrated and nearly sung as it stabbed into the paper and refused to move forward. She knew the next step would be her hand moving across the paper without her motivation. It would simply read her mind and write what it saw there. Intrusive magi’s!! She was certain the inanimate object it had once been could have laughed at her before their mystical talents made it a device of memory and mind.

I never wished to be what I was and always wanted to be someone or something different. My childhood dreams were of dashing rescues and swords clashing or of carefree running through the woods to discover fairies rings at the delight of my own childish heart. I wanted to be anywhere or anyone else than what I or who I was.

It was books and studying, countless parties and partitions of colored paper, dancing and dreams made by smoke and heavenly smiles. I was a Princess amongst peons and my Parents could not have been happier.

The quill paused and shivered slightly, singing softly into the moonlight filtering into the open window. She smiled and continued to write; inclined to do so instead of being forced to.

Countless years went by and I gained knowledge from the many books I read. There was power to be had at my fingertips and with each turning of the page. My friends began to be numbers at the bottom of parchment pages when my parents would have favored the many young men who called upon me, instead. I grew in stature...and in power. Secretly and behind the locked doors of my chambers… the calling took me over. I was helpless and hapless to the happening of it and willingly succumbed.

Dark arts are in the heart and nature of me.

On the outside, beauty and bliss and on the inside a cold and reckless storm brews. It never slumbers and I chased but dreams to think I could hide it from them all forever. To live in dresses made softer then the gossamer wings of fairies and servants to give me comforts that most can only dream of. Aye, I hungered for all of those things as young Elvin girls will… but secretly I yearned; hungered for more.

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I have read of all of our downfalls and doings. Of course, I lived it too. Our Prince, Kael’thas Sunstrider of Quel’Thalas, banished and exiled for his misdeeds and to the distant corners of the planet. A man, who was meant to be ruler of the Blood Elves, instead became Master of Tempest Keep. Meant to be the crowned King and ruler of Quel’Thalas, instead; became the servant of a most heinous demon – Kil’jaeden. These were people and places, I was advised, that I could never reach out and touch or understand.

And I could only focus on one thing. The power and daring of this demon... to tame such a power as Kael’thas?! How did he manage to do such an extraordinary thing?! I yearned nightly to understand these things as I flipped through the pages of my beloved tomes while my parents bemoaned my fate.

They soon learned to live with it and went on with their lives.

Now where my once childish chambers were warm and smelled of divine incense; where soft music filtered out to the cuspidate ear… now reverberated with heavy boot falls and books of war. My closets lined with unused gowns and dresses of lively color and decorum... as I favored a dark robe of serviceable fashion. The beautiful curls that were ironed and fashioned daily by my servants had become a hive of hideous knots in lengths growing down to my thighs.

I was becoming that which I was meant to be. Privileged and powerful! And it was power enough so that eventually my parents learned never to staunch it. Never do so! Making me angry called upon the darkest green violence in my gaze. It would at once take over the effervescent green eyes… once gentle and softly surrounded by ebony fan of lash. Now they turned mean and hungry… for power and possession and for suffering. And I did not know then who it was that should suffer. But they would suffer and well.

The Elvin kind that once called me friend abandoned me like a sinking vessel tossed in turbulent seas … and I do not blame them now. They suffered looks of malice and remarks of pure acid when they opened their airy hearts and place it upon their sleeves. When asked for my input on upcoming parties and magnificent gatherings I would spew my vilest curses upon them for their shallow and meaningless existences.

Could they not see their own ignorance?? Did they not understand that there was so much more outside of our beautiful forest borders into the wide, wild world? Their petty vices became my torture and my angst grew to boundaries untenable…misunderstood and also ignored.

Fine!

My heart closed to them and my lips sealed like a tome for the forlorn shelves above magnificent libraries. Aye… I wished revenge and hurt to them as they hurt me. They vilified me in soft voices behind my back. And so I would show them this villain they were creating.

To be continued…