Prophecy's Child: Cold Winds

=Introduction= Author's Note: A year has passed since "Endless Horizons" and "Cold Winds". During this time, Gospel Lightfaith was quietly betrothed to an upstanding paladin named Rheyl Veracus. Yet, shortly after their engagement, Rheyl disappeared without so much as a word, leaving Gospel behind in bewilderment. The young paladin threw herself into her work, becoming more withdrawn, so recluse did she become that rumors of her death soon circulated on Stormwind's streets. Yet, there was one who held hope, one who stood waiting like a beacon to light the way through the Darkness...

=Chapter One: Guardian in the Night= Menethil Harbor: 2:00am

A ring.

Gospel lay in bed, staring at the hardwood ceiling of her room in Menethil, to her right, Rheyl was breathing slow and steadily, enveloped in his dreams. Had he really spent all this time, the better part of a year, simply to fetch her a ring? Part of her couldn't help but wonder. She ran a hand over her silvery hair, sitting up in bed, though making sure not to disturb Rheyl in his slumbers. She rose from the bed, moving to the window that overlooked the harbor. She placed her hand against it, looking out over the night-darkened sea as a heavy sigh escaped her.

A ring.

For two years, she'd wanted nothing more than a symbol of Rheyl's affection, some outward sign that he cared for her and truly did want to marry her. For nearly a year he was gone and upon his return, he came bearing the ring for no other reason than to 'return the favor'. Almost a year apart, and he'd shown her all the affection of a lamp-post. She pressed her forehead against the cold glass, closing her eyes tightly against the tears welling in her eyes. She shook her head, gathering her cloak from the back of her chair, she swept it around her as she walked out of the room and out of the inn.

The sea-born zephyrs played around her, whipping the cloak about her lithe form as she walked along the docks. Everything was silent, save the gentle creak of the wood as it was caressed by the waves. Her bare feet made hardly a sound as she walked to the end of the dock, where the ship from Auberdine was usually expected. She stood there a long while, simply letting herself be caressed by the wind and allowing the sounds of the sea to soothe her restless soul. She regarded the cold, round orb of the moon, her heart-shaped face pale as alabaster in its light.

"Is this what you want for me?" she murmured quietly, "This life of lonliness and sorrow?" She pushed back the cowl of her cloak, the moon's light shimmering through the silver strands of her hair, giving her an almost ethereal look, "I refuse to believe that, even of you. I deserve to be happy, don't I...?"

She gathered her cloak about her as she paced back along the dock, then continued along the shoreline. She closed her eyes, breathing in the salty sea air as she reached to a thin silver chain at her neck. Suspended from it was a small black gem with a crack down it's center. She caressed it gently with her fingertips as she raised her dark green eyes to the moon overhead. A single tear slipped unheeded down her cheek as she breathed a single word. A single name.

"Immortis..."

Gospel...?"

She looked over her shoulder, her cloak ebbing around her, her eyes wide in disbelief, even as her brows knit together in confusion. He stood there in his resplendent glory, the moonlight shimmering off his plate armor, his blue eyes regarding her with such love and concern. She compressed her lips into a thin line, half-turning even as she reached out to him with her right hand, "It can't be..." she whispered.

He took her hand in both of his own, his mail gauntlets strangely warm to the touch, "Yes, it can," his eyes fell to the Black Diamond at her throat, "You called me..."

"Immortis!" she said with a heartbroken sob, leaping forward to wrap her arms around the paladin. He eveloped her in his embrace, his arms around her tight and protective as he caressed her silver hair with his left hand.

"Oh Gospel..." he murmured, his voice touched with sorrow, "What has he done to you?" His lips grazed along her hairline as he spoke before he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. He closed his eyes, pressing his cheek to her head as he held her all the more tightly.

"Nothing..." Gospel replied, "I gave him my heart, my love, I even offered to marry him... and I've gotten nothing in return..." She kept her eyes closed, taking comfort in Immortis' strange warmth as it wrapped her in a coccoon of solace.

"Oh, my angel..." he breathed, reaching down, he touched his fingers to her chin, turning her tear-streaked face up to his, "How he doesn't deserve you..." With that, Immortis pulled her to him, pressing his lips to hers in a gently passionate kiss. Gospel blinked a moment in surprise, but in the next she melted against him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as she kissed him in return. It seemed as if the kiss would last a lifetime, but in a few heartbeats he pulled away, "My love..."

Gospel looked up at him, all the love she'd left unspoken shimmering in her pale green eyes, "My heart...?" Immortis reached down, caressing her silver hair, letting it slip slowly from his fingers, "Vivian needs your help first, dear one," he said, "And for that, I will lend you my strength." He kissed her forehead again, but this time it burned with an unnatural warmth sending a thread of fire thrilling through her veins. She looked up at him, her green eyes blazing with Power, "But..." she began.

He placed a finger to her lips, "Shh, we'll be together soon, but this you must do first. When you are ready, seek me in Northrend..." He stepped around her, looking back over his shoulder at her, "Remember that, Gospel. Northrend."

"Immortis...? Immortis, wait!" she cried, extending a hand toward him. She was suddenly blinded by the light of the rising sun glancing off the water as it rose over the horizon, "Immortis!"''

Menethil Harbor, 6:00am

Gospel sat up in bed, gasping against the aching pain in her heart, she looked around herself wildly a moment before slowly coming to the realization...

"A dream..." she murmured, "Nothing more than a dream..." She sighed, disheartened, as she hugged her knees to her chest, pressing her face against them. A knock sounded on the door, and the chamber maid called out, "Lady Gospel? Ye asked fer a wakin', I 'ope I'm not disturbin' ye..."

"No," she replied, glancing to the still-slumbering Rheyl, "Not at all." With that, she rose and began her day. She washed her face briefly in the tepid water in the wash basin, then dressed with the quick efficiency of an old campaigner. She pulled open the door to see the serving maid still standing there, so she glanced back to Rheyl on the bed, "See to it he's not disturbed, he's had a long, difficult journey, it seems..." The maid curtsied, "As you say, Lady Gospel."

Gathering her cloak once more, Gospel left Rheyl to his dreams and hailed the gryphonmaster for a ride to Stormwind.

=Chapter Two: Ray of Light= Stormwind City, 7:00pm

Her search in the library had been exhaustive; she'd spent hours upon hours poring over antiquated tomes with the librarian trying to find some clue, some small fragment that would tell her where they'd taken Vivian. She passed her hand over her light-wearied eyes, the pages of the book on the table blurring in her vision. A hand on her shoulder pulled her attention away as she looked up at the weary face of the librarian, "It's already well past sunset, Lady Gospel, I think it is time you rested your search for now." The man's demeanor and face were kindly enough, but Gospel realized she'd probably more than overstayed her welcome, if it were past sundown.

She rose to her feet, nodding, "Thank you, I'm sorry to have kept you," she picked up the book from the table, "I'll be taking this one, but I'll return it in the morning." The librarian nodded his ascent, noting her name in a large book near the doorway and which book she was removing. She bowed her head in gratitude again before departing, sighing a bit in weariness.

She'd been in Stormwind since that morning, but had yet to pay her respects at the Cathedral. As little comfort as the place brought her these days, she supposed she should at least keep up appearances. She mounted her warsteed as the stableboy held the reins, which he then passed up to her, "Pleasant evening, Lady Gospel," he said cheerfully.

A pleasant evening. How long had it been since she'd had one of those? She couldn't genuinely remember; only nights spent fighting for her life or healing those around her. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd truly laughed... Spirit flicked his ears backward upon hearing her forlorn sigh, the faithful battlecharger nickering as he nudged his mistress' knee with his nose. She smiled faintly, patting his proudly arched neck, "I know, boy, time changes all things," she mused aloud.

Her awareness was brought back to the present as Spirit stopped before the Cathedral. She looked up at the tall edifice, wondering when it had taken on such a feeling of emptiness, or perhaps it was her own emptiness she felt, whenever she walked its hallowed halls. Somehow, she didn't feel right here anymore, she hadn't for quite some time.

"Now there's a face I've not seen in a long time," a voice interrupted her reverie. It seemed familiar, something whispered, flitting at the edges of her consciousness. Familiar. She looked over her shoulder, her eyes alighting on the paladin behind her, resplendent in his gold and black enameled armor.

Corran. Memories surged through her; drinks at the Jester, idle conversation in the Trade District, many evenings spent in his company. Courteous, gallant, yet filled with a gentle warmth for those who could see beyond the battle-worn exterior.

Gospel smiled, nodding her head his direction, "A long time, indeed, Master Corran..."

His usually stoic countenance broke into a smile in return, "I'm glad to see that you are alive and well." He nudged his wartiger forward, the great beast padding forward, even as Gospel turned Spirit toward him, closing the gap between them.

"Likewise, to be sure," Gospel replied, "It is good to see a friendly face again, I see so few of them these days." This much was true, the past few times she'd been to the city, she'd found hardly anyone at all. Not even old enemies. Just hundreds of unfamiliar faces; it made coming home all the harder, to not even be welcomed with a single smile.

Corran nodded his agreement, "Yes, it is, especially a face as friendly and fair as yours, Lady Gospel."

She blushed pleasantly at his compliment before reaching out to place a hand on the gilded surface of his shoulderplate. The metal was strangely warm beneath her fingertips it made her feel oddly welcome and at ease, "Truly, it is good to see you, Corran..."

He looked to her hand on his shoulder, his hands tightening around the reins of his battlecat, "It makes me wonder where you've been all this time." He looked up at her, his eyes seeming to search her face for the answer. Gospel caught and held his gaze a moment before she lowered her own eyes.

"If you're ever bored some night, perhaps I'll regale you with the tale; I'm afraid it would be a long time in telling." A long and unbelievable story, indeed, not many understood her journey, and fewer still ever believed in it. She wasn't even sure she did anymore. It's like it happened a lifetime ago, to some other person.

Corran reached out, placing his gauntleted hand over hers on Spirit's reins, "Well, I have some time now, I'd like very much to hear about it all, perhaps over a drink?" She regarded his hand quietly a moment. ''I shouldn't. Rheyl wouldn't like it. I should go home...''

... but I'm so lonely.

She looked up at Corran, her eyes meeting his as a smile once again crossed her lips, "Well, if you have the time, I suppose I can tell you the tale."

He beamed at her, "Excellent!" With that, he pulled his hand away and they both steered their mounts toward The Park.

Stormwind City, The Park, 9:00pm

Corran and Gospel sat in Calithos' bar, though, amusingly, neither of them could recall if it had an actual name. Cal greeted them pleasantly enough between yelling and chasing a young rogue off his bartop. Gospel settled into a chair with a cold mug of cider in her hands as Corran unslung his greatsword to set it aside. She watched him in mild amusement as he settled comfortably into the chair in full plate armor, she shook her head, "I don't see how you do that, I never could."

"Years of practice," he grinned. He took a drink of the dark ale he'd gotten from Calithos, turning his eyes toward her, "So, drinks... now a story."

Gospel nodded, "I suppose it all started the night after I conducted the wedding of Dasri and Zylvia..."

With both Calithos and Corran listening, Gospel told them of her adventures in the Maelstrom, of the loss of the Prophecy, and later of the loss of Vivian. She hadn't meant for the subject to come up, but eventually, she found herself talking about her engagement with Rheyl. She spoke of how distant he was, how he'd always been, if she were honest with herself. To her, it seemed to take a lifetime, but the telling, in reality, only took an hour or so, "... I suppose it's not that long a tale, after all," she finished lamely.

"I'm sorry that you've been through so much, Lady Gospel," Corran said, setting his ale mug off to one side, "To treat one as you so coldly..." the paladin shook his head, "If it were done properly, you would still be reeling from the affects of his return home..."

Calithos burst into laughter behind the bar, Corran chuckled impishly. Gospel looked at them both, smiling wryly as she shook her head, "You are both incorrigible."

"I've known Rheyl for a long time," Calithos observed, "And yeah, he's always been kind of distant, untouchable... but his conduct with you is cold, even for him." The mage scratched at his chin, "Maybe I need to give him some lessons on how to properly treat a woman..." Gospel looked up in alarm, not really thinking Rheyl would take too kindly to attempts at being 'taught'. Fortunately, Calithos was distracted well enough by his own wife, Remia, walking behind the bar.

"Failing that," Corran interjected,"There are plenty of fish in the sea, Gospel. Some of them might even be paladins, like yourself," he took a drink of his ale with what sounded like a sigh, "Ah, to be twenty years younger..."

she smiled at Corran, "Well, I don't seem to have much luck with paladins; Immortis, Darthal, now Rheyl? It seems to be ill-fated," she absently turned her cider mug around between her hands, swirling the contents, "But you don't look a day over thirty, in any case!"

The discussion would have continued, were it not for a cat making some great racket down in the basement, which caused Calithos and Remia to run downstairs to set things to rights. Gospel took this as a sign to make good her escape, lest Calithos offer to give Rheyl some hands-on training or something just as out of the question. She rose to her feet, setting a few extra silvers beside the empty glass on the table. Corran looked up at her, "Turning in for the night?" he asked.

"Oh no," she replied, "I think I just need to go outside for some air." She smiled at him and waved her good-byes to Calithos and Remia, who bid her farewell and mentioned how much they'd like for her to return. Promising she would, Gospel turned and went out the door.

The night air was cool against her skin, the Park's green and growing things filling the air with their fragrance. She took a deep breath of the air, closing her eyes a moment as she let everything just fall away. No worries, no troubles... just for a moment.

"I was glad to have come across you, Gospel," Corran's voice came from behind her, even as he stepped up beside her, regarding the stars overhead, "Ever since the Dark Portal opened, I'd worried for you. No matter how hard I looked; no orders, no missions, no briefings even mentioned you."

Gospel turned her head, her silver hair falling to frame her face as she regarded the older paladin curiously, "Worried...? About me?" Her heart skipped a beat, but she quickly gave herself a mental shake.

Corran nodded simply, lowering his gaze to the grassy lawn beneath the ledge, "I'd lost so many people I cared about in the Outlands," he looked up at her, "I didn't want to lose you, too."

Her breath caught in her throat as she looked anywhere but at him, "Corran..." ''It's not what you think, don't overreact. It's just friendly concern...!'' Instead, she calmly replied, "Well, thank you..."

He arched a brow, "For...?"

She drew a deep breath, only to let it out in a sigh, "I'd almost forgotten what it felt like for someone to say they were worried about me... that they cared..."

The older paladin reached out with a gauntleted hand, placing it to her cheek. Again, the metal was strangely warm, "I've cared, Gospel, for a long time. The time just never felt right to tell you..."

She placed her hands over his, her green eyes meeting his, "And the time is right now?"

Corran sighed, lowering his hand as he clenched it into a fist, "No, not when I might cause a lover's quarrel, but I don't want to go the rest of my life without telling you how I've felt."

Gospel's fingertips brushed over her cheek where the night wind was already cooling the warmth left by his touch, "To cause a lover's quarrel, Corran, one would first have to be a lover, which I am not, and to quarrel would require the other party being present, which he rarely is."

Corran tugged at his gauntlets, regarding the grass yet again, "Then that leaves me no other real options," he mused, "except to fight him."

Stunned at this announcement, she could only momentarily stare at him in disbelief. In a matter of heartbeats, she found her voice, "Corran, no, I can't let you do that! What if he hurts you?"

The paladin shrugged his shoulders confidently, "If he does, he won't escape unscathed," he looked at her, his eyes filled with the strength of his feelings, "There are some things in this life worth fighting for... and you're one of them," he shifted the greatsword on his back, an amused grin crossing his features, "Besides, you'll be there to heal me."

Gospel placed a hand on his cheek, her eyes filled with concern, "I haven't even done anything to deserve such loyalty."

He reached out, tendering grasping her chin in his fingers, holding her gaze with his own, "You did," he said quietly, "You came back." The two of them stood together, heedless of the world around them, until Corran broke the silence again, "If Rheyl is as cold as he seems, he may not even care, so all this worry is for naught."

Gospel pulled her chin out of his touch, looking to the ground, an overwhelming sense of guilt filling her heart, "I don't know what he would do, to be honest..." But Corran was not easily dissuaded, he reached out, grasping her hand in his own, "Then we'll cross that bridge when it comes, Gospel."

Menethil Harbor, Midnight

Gospel entered her room in Menethil, firstly making sure that Rheyl was not in it. Assured that she was safe and alone, she bolted the door shut, pressing her back to it as she closed her eyes tightly. ''Light! Why do I always get caught in this venemous trap? Is my heart really so fickle?'' She let out a sigh that was half a sob, covering her eyes with a hand.

''Is it really so wrong to want to feel loved? Love that goes beyond mere words?'' she thought to herself as she paced across the room to the bureau. Absently, she picked up the brush, stroking it through her hair to release what few tangles had mussed it on the gryphon ride from Stormwind. She looked at her reflection in the mirror as she continued smoothing out her hair. ''I look tired, and I'm not even thirty yet. Eyes that have seen too much pain and anguish. A spirit that bears too many scars. I just want peace now and love, but it seems like I'm doomed never to have either.''

Immortis. Darthal. Rheyl. And now Corran. All paladins, all men of sworn faith to the Light, and, except for Corran, all men who had broken her heart in some form or fashion. Was she truly as ill-fated with them as it sometimes felt? She set the brush aside, placing her elbows on the bureau she buried her face in her hands.

"What do I do now...?" she whispered, feeling all the more lost and alone as ever. =Chapter Three: Prayers by Shadow=

Stormwind City, The Cathedral -- 8:00am

The soft, sibilant hiss of robes of a variety of materials swishing across the marbled floors were all that greeted the ears at this hour as the acolytes and brethren of the Cathedral of Light went about their morning business. The morning light shone in the many windows, sending scattered fragments of colored light dancing across the walls and floor. Many who came here this early were both comforted and cheered by this, but the effect was lost on one this morning. Off in a small, candle-lit prayer alcove a lone paladin knelt in the shadows. Her silver hair fell in a smooth line down to her shoulders, one side falling in a feathery curve down her right cheek. The flickering shadows cast by the candles playing about her face amidst the amber glow. Yet, her eyes were closed, her lips moving in a nearly inaudible prayer.

"Light, please, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference."

Serenity. Gospel opened her eyes, staring into the candleflames, searching the waving blue flicker at its very heart. Almost as if, within that blue-white flame, she could find the answers she needed from her own. She rested her hands on her upraised knee, one absently brushing the back of the other, almost as if she could feel the ghostly touch of Corran's lips on her skin again. She had very nearly resigned herself to the distant, almost professional, relationship she'd come to foster with Rheyl and in so doing, had nearly forgotten how pleasant real affection could be. It seeped into the cold and reserved places of her forlorn spirit, bringing a sense of warmth and comfort.

Courage. Gospel rested her forehead against her knee, her face hidden in the halo of her arms. Could she continue live this loveless existence with Rheyl? Was she willing to wait another series of years for him to finally open his heart to her? She'd fought marauding bands of the Scourge; battled for her life against a Prophecy that wanted to end it; hundreds of battles fought with her courage shining like a beacon to all those around her. Yet, when it came to the matter of her own heart... did she have that kind of courage?

She lifted her head again, once more regarding the flickering candlelight. The amber glow weaved in her vision, but she saw not the flame, instead she saw the golden hair and welcome eyes of Corran. He cared for her, that much was plain and something he took no efforts to hide. She held him in high regard, that much was true and she cared for him in return, but could she sacrifice two years of her life for him?

Two years of what? her conscience twinged, ''Two years of a love that was more dutiful than passionate? Two years of being held at arm's length, never getting any closer than to be held briefly in his arms before he walks away?''

She looked back upon the day of Rheyl's return, turning the memory of it over and over in her mind like a faceted crystal. She'd been shocked to see him standing there so calmly after having been gone for nearly a year, the day after Vivian's disappearance. Compounded with her grief and regret at her failure to protect the young priestess, Gospel admitted she'd reacted badly. Even in spite of that, however, he offered her little to no comfort, merely cold accusations that she was making it all up. That had left her feeling chilled to the very core of her soul.

Then he'd presented her with the engagement ring she'd waited two long years to receive, but the words that came with it spoke of how little love it actually came with. He spoke of it as if it were nothing more than something to barter with, as if he were doing nothing more than returning the favor. He'd said it was a token of his devotion, but never had words of devotion been so devoid of any actual warmth or feeling. When she could only stare at the ring in disbelief, Rheyl pocketed it saying that perhaps it had been a mistake to begin with. Had her will been weaker, Gospel might have collapsed right then from the anguish, but she was too proud for that, so she'd wept instead.

Even then, his comfort was dry, platonic like she were some stranger crying on a street corner. It just put more stress on the already fragmented crevices of her breaking heart. Yet, no matter how she tried to distance herself from him, he would not leave her. Even when they were alone in her room in Menethil, nothing. Nothing!

Gospel was suddenly aware that she was sobbing quietly in the prayer alcove, one of the Brethren standing off to one side behind her as he offered her a handkerchief, "I'm sorry, Lady Paladin, I could not help but overhear your weeping," he said politely, "You seem to bear a heavy burden."

She looked up at the kindly man, accepting his kerchief with a wavering smile. She dabbed at her eyes and cheeks before drawing a deep breath of composure. She passed the kerchief back to the priest as she rose to her feet, "I'm sorry if I disturbed you, Brother," she said, "But thank you."

"Perhaps, my lady, you could tell me what the matter is? I doubt I am as worlds-wise as you, but it may be that I could still give you an answer your noble spirit seems to crave," the priest offered.

Gospel blushed slightly, more discomfitted by the fact that she'd been so obviously read, than by the nature of the matter itself, "It is nothing, truly, Brother, merely a matter of the heart that is torn betwixt two good and noble men."

The brother smiles, "Ah, I see, well, it is understandable for so beautiful a lady to be so coveted. The only thing I can tell you, my lady, is that the heart won't lie.  It knows where it belongs and will tell you so; where it feels warm, welcome, and comforted.  Where it has no fear and no pain." He folded his kerchief, tucking it in a pocket of his robe, "Love, my lady, will always make your spirit soar," he looked to the alcove behind her, where the candles were guttering out one by one, "Not make you pray in shadows."