Aamien's Reinstallation

Chapter One

The Priest, having received the parchment from the young carrier, settles down and leans against the trunk of an old tree and begins to read.

"To the one known as Aamien the Walker, Aamien the Watcher, Elear Amandil Aamien Aur'Draythorn..."

She's going to wonder why I have so many names.

"We have received your request concerning the young Priestess Aroral, currently serving the area of Stormwind, Goldshire, and the surrounding countryside. Indeed, her training is official and her Elder, who I will not refer to by name here, is satisfied as to her progress."

Hmm. Just like the Temple. Tell me something else I don't know, maybe?

"We must comment that your request is most unorthodox. It is to be pointed out that you have been in retirement for two years now, not in small part due to your rather...unusual views on the nature and activities of Elune herself."

...

"After considerable discussion, we were able to reach a decision regarding your request. Aroral's Elder was vehemently opposed to this; be aware that you have made an enemy of a well-known family in Darnassus."

...

"We will allow the Priestess Aroral to decide her fate in this matter. She will be allowed to remain with her Elder, or, to begin training under you. If she chooses you as her new Elder, you shall be reinstated as a Senior Elder of the Temple of Darnassus, and you shall make any reports and inquiries to your former Elder and your namesake, Priestess Aur'Draythorn."

Alore won't be too happy about this. She was so happy that I entered into retirement. Now. I shall be reporting to her yet again. I can hear her now..."Amy, I'm geting too old for this!"

Chapter Two

Sitting across from the stoic Priestess, Aamien looks worn and weary. Having just come from a chaotic battle in which the Priest's spirit departed from his body several times, his normal appearance was not evident. His left eye is swollen, his hair is tangled, and a nasty gash which for some reason he has not tended to yet is evident, spanning from wrist to elbow (one would assume, as it has bled through his robe, which is torn on that sleeve).

Aamien pulls the parchment out and begins to read it to the Priest. Already figuring what her reaction might be, he doesen't stop much to guage it; instead, reading it slowly as if he is reading it for the first time.

"Well Priestess, what do you think?"

The Priestess displays that small, stoic smile that Aamien has seen before, and begins fidgetting with her beads that seem to always be present in her hands.

"You may speak freely. We are friends."

The Priestess, however, looks as if she is swimming in lava. Not a look of fear, or apprehension, but perhaps one of small shock, and a clearly confused look on her face.

"What has made you want to do this?" Aroral asks.

Aamien appears deep in thought for a moment.

"My heart told me to do this."

"And, Aamien, is this the same heart which you hesitate to follow concerning the other matter?"

Ohh, she's good. She would be an excellent student - an actual thinker.

"Yes, the same. With this matter, however...my heart and my brain are in agreement. With the other, the two are in conflict."

The Priestess nods, comprehendingly, still fidgetting with her beads. Aamien looks at them, remembering her promise to craft him a set.

A long space of silence passes. She is forumlating her next thoughts.

"If I were to say yes, you would have to change."

Aamien looks suddenly and sharply into Aroral's eyes, a scowl on his face. There is an inner, morbid satisfaction to seeing her flinch, even a little...but that is brief, and he realizes that it has no place here. He softens his expression and gives his best "grandfatherly" smile.

"In what way would I need to change, dear one?"

To call her previous expressions uncomfortable would render a disservice to the look on her face now. One would think that Aroral would rather wear a tunic of elf-skin than answer that question, but he persists.

"You must speak freely. You will not cause offense to me."

Long moments pass. Finally...

"If you were to be my Elder, then you must act as one befitting your station."

Aamien mentally whistles in surprise and admiration at the young Priestess, while displaying no change in expression on the outside. Another long, awkward silence...

"This is a reasonable request. You must realize however, that changing one as aged and as set in my ways as myself would be like drinking the ocean dry."

She gives him that look...the look that would almost put fear into his heart...the look of a zeal for her duties, a reverance for her goddess, and an unspoken sentence that said, "I would kill you if you crossed the line." Aamien decides to elaborate.

"However, as I said, your request is a reasonable one. I will accomodate it as I can."

Looking only a little satisfied, she blurts out her next question, obviously having already prepared it.

"How would our relationship change? What would it be like?"

Aamien smiles again. This is a good question. She is a perceptive elvess. Already having given Aamien advice which might save him much pain and suffering, he realizes what a good Elder-Student match this might be and smiles inwardly at his fortune. The time to impress her had finally arrived.

"Priestess Aroral, were I your Elder, I would teach you the most powerful Priestly Spells and Incantations...How to use them...When...Where... and most importantly, Why."

Even though weary and cold, Aamien slowly stands up and backs away a few feet. Calling upon Elune, he begins a powerful set of incantations that seem tailored more for show than function, but the effect is seen. The air around him visibly becomes agitated and the ground begins to sing, sounding like a low, ominous, deathly aria. Swirling lights began to move in an eerie dance that extend out from his body. His feet leave the ground, and his stature suddenly appears fearsome and threatening. At the moment of greatest intensity, a sudden, still quiet occurs, and one suddenly can hear the heartbeats of every being that had ever lived and died in that spot. Aamien resumes breathing and sits down.

Aroral, not blinking, stands up, backs away three paces, and sits again.

"My dear, concerning the matter of the Priestly arts, of the whens, and the whys, and the wheres, I would be your Elder, and I would train and guide you."

"Concerning the matter of life...and humans...and the heart...and the starlit sky, we would be students together, with Elune as our teacher."

This produces an expression that Aamien has not yet seen from Aroral. Perhaps as close to admiration as she has shown him. It was only two days prior that she was practically mocking him.

"Then, Elder Aamien, I accept your offer."

Chapter Three

"Priestess Aroral, I must now as your Elder gauge your healing ability."

She nods, taking a deep breath, inwardly preparing for Aamien's test.

"In order to properly judge your ability to heal, we need to find a person who is injured. Do you see anyone?"

She looks around the small island, seeming to ponder the obvious answer.

"No, Elder. We are alone."

"Then that leaves you, and me. I will not injure you."

She blinks at him, not yet comprehending the upcoming assumption.

"In order for you to be tested, you must inflict upon your Elder a serious injury, and then you must heal it."

An expression of shock and a muffled outburst escapes her. She shakes her head violently.

"I will do no such thing."

"Do you forget your place, Student Aroral?"

"Do you feel it neccessary to compel me to inflict pain for no reason?"

Aamien does not hesitate. "Ahh, but there is reason, and there is a greater good which is more important than your personal thoughts on the matter. You will injure me, student."

"I will do no such thing." She folds her arms and glares at him dangerously.

Aamien withdraws a small, sharp dagger from his belt.

"Priestess Aroral, either you will injure my arm, or I will injure my chest. The choice is yours, but your healing will be tested this night."

She stands as the great statue in Booty Bay, unwavering, unyielding, and unbelieving.

Without hesitating, Aamien turns his back on her. "I must do this before she can act to stop me. She needs to learn of the value and the reason for sacrifice." He plunges the knife into his shoulder, severing his life artery, and falls to the ground in pain.

"Elder!" She runs to his side, now crying, and furiously begins to work on his arm as he begins to process of bleeding to death.

"Heal this, student," he implores through clenched teeth, tears streaming down his face.

Her healing is exemplary, and his wounds are healed in no time. He flexxes his finger muscles, and stands up.

"Good work."

She appears ready to cross every line and break every law every written in Azeroth.

At the top of her normally meek voice, she screams "You...FOOL. You are a foolish old man! You are a..."

She takes out a wool bandage, throws it to the ground in front of him, and stalks off, trying to disguise the noise of her weeping.

Chapter Four

Aamien sits on the shore and motions for his student to join him. She approaches, turns her back on him, and takes 3 strides. She then turns around and sits.

Aamien sighs loudly. "Now is as good as time as ever," he thinks.

"Priestess Aroral?"

She looks up at him with her inquisitive eyes.

"Tell me, Priestess, am I mentally unstable?"

Her eyes widen and she quickly brings her hand to her mouth, trying to cover her laughter that manages to still escape.

"I beg your pardon?"

''"Answer the question. Am I mentally unstable?"

"No, Elder. You are different, but your mind is intact."''

Aamien continues, sounding like Thrall questioning some new warrior. "Am I spiteful? Am I...mean-natured?"

"No, Elder." She says nothing else, but her eyes begin to suspect some hidden purpose in these questions.

Aamien pauses, then continues. "Priestess Aroral, am I physically repulsive?"

She flinches at the question. His gaze penetrates into her eyes, and she is forced to answer.

"N...No...Elder, you are not."

She looks at the water, starting at it as if it is a dangerous creature.

"Am I greedy like the Goblins of Booty Bay?"

This question lightens her mood from the last question. She laughs...

"Why, yes, I believe so, Elder."

Ignoring the sarcastic answer, Aamien continues.

"Do I smell like a dead fish?"

This question is almost too much, as her hands fly to her mouth again. She seems so afraid to laugh, almost as if some as yet undefined boundary would be breached, and as if the Burning Legion would suddenly appear between them should she give in to the humor of the question.

''"Elder, why are you asking me these questions?"

"Priestess Aroral, am I a fool?"''

This question silences her completely.

Chapter Five

"I say again, Priestess. Am I a fool?"

She locks eyes with his. He inwardly again notices her unusual beauty. She has those eyes...the eyes which men have done both great and terrible things for.

"Elder, you do foolish things, but you are no fool."

Aamien nods, having expected some variation of that answer.

"Then tell me Priestess, Aroral. If I am not a fool, nor crazy, nor detestable, nor smelly...would you then sit closer to me?"

As the reason for the line of questions finally hits the Priestess, her eyes widen slightly.

"No, Elder. I would not."

He sighs. "This has to stop," he thinks to himself.

"Priestess Aroral, please. It is important."

Fidgetting with her beads, she repeats her answer.

"No."

"Priestess, if you do not, then I assume one of your answers was not the truth, and perhaps I will drown myself in the river."

She laughs and smiles.

"Elder, I cannot. It is not permitted."

Aamien sighs a deep, sad, inner sigh.

"You know, Elder, that it is not permitted. But do you know why?"

Aamien secretly relaxes within, the goal of his inquiry finally in sight.

"I do not, nor does it matter."

A moment of silence passes, and he elaborates, not wishing to be misunderstood.

"It does matter to me. I am just..."

She gives him an odd look.

"Elder Aamien, I must not become distracted from my studies. Physical contact with anyone, in any form, is prohibited for me. The only exception is when I am practicing my arts. Don't you understand?"

Truth be told, he does, a little. He was young...and full of... righteousness and compassion once. But he views that Aamien as an utter fool, one who was lucky to have ever grown at all. Despite the similarities, there is a world of difference between who Aamien was and who Aroral is.

"I respect your beliefs...your boundaries."

"That is not what I asked. Don't you understand? Or would you just mock me for what I believe?"

"She has no trust at all with me," he thinks. "I knew I shouldn't have told her about meeting Elune in the well. Lillies knew what she was doing; drawing that story out of me in the presence of my future student. I am not so sure Lillies would make a good priestess, despite what I said."

"I would never mock you for your beliefs, student."

"But, do you not hold these beliefs yourself? Do you not see and agree with the reason that I am...the way I am?"

Aamien mentally sighs. "Oh well, this is what I wanted. I have to have at least some partial understanding of this matter if we are to...have any sort of friendship at all."

"I will respect your boundaries, Priestess. I will even cause others to respect your boundaries."

She brings her gaze directly into his. "But you think them foolish, don't you?"

He looks up. "I guess that makes us even, then."

"What? I don't..." She trails off, catching the remark.

Another long moment passes. Finally, in a softer voice...

"I do not think you foolish, Elder."

"Oh? Did you not call me a great fool, a mad old man at the top of your voice mere hours ago? Did you not listen to my most sacred memory with a sneer and a smirk upon your face?

She pales slightly.

Chapter Six

"Elder...I was..."

She falters for the first time in front of Aamien. She is obviously fighting some internal struggle.

"Elder, I must apologize for my actions. It was not my intent to..."

"Hush," he says, cutting her off. "I do not bring the matter up to garner your apology or sympathy."

"You do not have my sympathy, Elder."

No wonder she confused the gnome. Aamien, with more education and training than a lifetime of a human, could barely keep up with her at times.

"As I said, Priestess, you may have your boundary and I will not cross it."

At that point, the most unusual of expressions comes onto Aroral's face. Her hands manipulate the beads in them so intently, it is a wonder that the strand does not break from the pressure. Her breathing intensifies, and while her face remains pointed on a fixxed point on the ground, her eyes dart back and forth wildly.

Then, she does something most unexpected.

Perhaps fate was not ready for what she did, that day. Perhaps the stars flung out of their orbits, and the wandering spirits of the Burning Legion were smashed in a great battle that day, just as they had been in laugh. It was all inconsequential, however, in light of the next action.

The Priestess stands up, takes a small step closer to the Elder, and sits down again, closing the gap to about a yard, instead of a yard and a step.