So I dreamed up this nelfman today, and he was wearing robes of cream yellow with orange highlights, and a single blue gem on his chest. He doesn’t have a name yet, and I’m going to take my time to decide.

I came up with a quick story for him immediately:

His life-changing encounter with the Light came in the form of a tribe of displaced Tauren in the Vale of Eternal Blossoms. Inspired by the will and ways of Sunwalker Dezco and his tribe, the Kaldorei set about searching himself and all he had previously thought of holy magic. Having found the humans’, dwarves’, and even the draenei’s approaches to holy magic too rigid for liking, he found something familiar in the way the Tauren approached the concept. Their respect for nature and acknowledgement of Elune opened him to hearing their beliefs, and he soon found that he was able to acknowledge An’she and the Earth Mother as well. He sees himself as a daywalker, still revering Elune as his goddess, but acting with a conviction that someone must nurture the day, since most of his kind revere the night.

He first learned from the Tauren priests, and slowly began his transition to paladin under their teachings, which he did find amusing at times. He enjoys studying religion, and exchanging stories with the Tauren from time to time. He wishes that more of his kind could find the same power that he has, although he is not particular whether they draw their power from An’she or Elune. 

The more proficient he became, the more his white hair and eyes took on a golden hue. He is said by his peers to shimmer in the sun – something they tease him about because of his “star elf” heritage.


And that’s why my dreams are so cool. 8]

the fruits of this afternoon’s emotional rollercoaster

Anduin isn’t 100% sure what romance is.

But he does know that whenever he sees Wrathion, he feels like his emotions are laid open for all to see. He knows that the first thing he does each morning is press an ear to Wrathion’s door, and smile as he hears snoring, because it means that Wrathion slept well. He knows that there’s nothing quite like the anticipation he feels when he hears the stairs creak.

He knows that it’s Wrathion he goes to when he’s afraid. When his leg hurts and his father sends letters and Jaina doesn’t. It’s Wrathion that he looks to, instinctively, reaching for a hand that always, always, clasps back.

He knows that he smiles more around Wrathion, laughs more, cries more. That there’s something about him that just makes Anduin emotional, responsive, impulsive to the nth degree. He can’t say what, but he knows that it makes him throw himself into every conversation as if it’s their last, as if one day he’ll wake up and it will all be taken away from him, because that’s what happens to things Anduin cares about.

He also knows that it’s Wrathion who makes him fear, sometimes. That he’ll go where Anduin can’t follow, or he’ll be hurt in ways Anduin can’t heal, or he’ll say something Anduin can’t take back; there’s a fear there of things Anduin can’t control, either by words or magic, since, after all, while they are equals, Wrathion still keeps secrets – he lies and he smiles and he cheats with the tiles laid out in front of them both, as if Anduin is too stupid or too blind or too wrapped up in Wrathion’s smile to notice. 

He knows that he wants to be the one Wrathion confides in.

He knows, even if he sometimes forgets, that Wrathion’s eyes crinkle when he smiles. That his eyes are warm when they look at him, that even when Wrathion snaps it’s never at Anduin. He knows that Wrathion respects him, more than he respects Tong, more than he respects Dezco, more than he respects Left and Right. It infuriates and flatters him in equal measure, but he can’t bring himself to want it to change.

He knows that Wrathion smiles when Anduin takes his hand. He knows that he smiles when Wrathion brushes his thumb across his knuckles.

He doesn’t know what romance is. But he does know that there’s no other feeling in the world like the one Wrathion stirs within him, and love is a four-letter word.