7/14/2008

The Unwritten Prophesy

Anyah stood outside the ship compartment that served as the meager inn for the Blood Watch settlement, her eyes taking in every little detail of the place she had been serving for the past months. Every crack in the crash remnants that now acted as shelters stood out to her eye. Every fault, every weakness. The alloy was crumbling in many places, the crystals had shattered on impact.

Here and there she caught the eye of the inhabitants, the survivors of this place. They smiled; some lowered their eyes and bowed their heads, some cheered her openly as their hero. Everywhere, every one of them glowed now with hope.

Tears clouded her eyes, the structures and the Draenei about them blurring. She would see this place again, but something was different. It would never be the same. Now, here, she was a hero. She was someone bigger than Caregiver Topher, or Messenger Hermesius. No, she wasn't bigger nor was she any more important - but she was treated that way. She was only another Draenei, an Exiled One, fortunate enough to have survived the crashing of the Exodar upon Azeroth - no lesser, no greater than any other.

Prophet Velen's words echoed in her mind. Even the Stillpine spoke of much more to come for her, much more she would do for her people.

You will do many more great things before you pass. You must embrace your destiny and meet it head on!

And Exarch Admetius! His words had struck her deeply. Take our people home.


Home. Draenor. She could barely remember it; she could barely remember anything from before the crash. When she had awakened, they said she was unconscious for weeks, months. She was lucky to be alive at all, judging by the wreckage in Ammen Vale. She only knew her name because it is what they called her. Was that truly it? And her family, loved ones? Perhaps, judging by all she'd seen until now, it was best she did not know.

"Anyah. Ticharamir... come in from the rain, before you catch cold."

Anyah turned to the voice, blinking the raindrops from her lashes. She hadn't noticed the rain at all. It was Caregiver Topher.

"Come in from the rain." He beckoned to her.

"What did you call me?"

Caregiver Topher smiled, ushering her inside and handing her a threadbare towel. "Ticharamir." He straightened the signet ring on her finger and his shoulders at the same time, speaking proudly, "The Prophesied."

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