Chapter Text
Idun’na, a novice draenei priestess and survivor of the Exodar crash stood shaking in horror at the carnage before her.
A circle of freshly slain draenei lay around a single male blood elf standing with his back to her, momentarily unaware of her presence. Wheat-blonde hair fell in a wave down his shoulders, and each of his hands clutched jagged, crimson swords dripping with freshly drawn blood.
“He killed them all by himself?!” Idun’na thought, paralyzed with fear. “How?! He’s just one elf!”
The warrior slowly turned around, and when he beheld the terrified priestess, he sneered at her triumphantly. Vivid green eyes the color of poison gazed at her as he spoke. Upon his breastplate, he bore a tabard with the image of a cupped hand holding the Sun. The beautiful imagery was now splattered with the blood of his victims, several patches of scarlet distorting the sun rays.
“Are you scared, draenei ?” He stepped forward, brandishing his bloodied swords. “Good. You and all the rest of your people should fear the wrath of the blood elves and of his majesty Kael’thas Sunstrider!”
Idun’na’s fear morphed into seething hatred as the name “Sunstrider” dragged anxious memories up from the depths of her mind. So many of their elven assailants had shouted the name in worshipful praise as they murdered the draenei fleeing Outland.
“You…” Idun’na snarled, her hands clenching as dark energy manifested all over her body, “will pay. All of you will pay!”
The warrior lurched away instinctively upon seeing the priestess emit her threatening aura of malice. He scowled at Idun’na, flicked the last bits of blood off of his blades, and sheathed them. Idun’na glared at him as he continued to step back, wanting more than anything to rend him apart as he’d done to her compatriots.
“None of you can stop our ascension, our inevitable return to glory, witch!” the warrior spat. “Quel’Thalas will rise above the ashes of our people’s suffering, and we will tolerate no interference, especially from you wayward refugees! Stay out of our way or be obliterated along with all of Silvermoon’s enemies!”
With that, he turned and ran, his contempt-filled speech not-so-subtly laced with fear at what Idun’na could possibly do to him. When he’d passed out of her sight, she felt the surge of shadow energy dissipate, and in its place came the inevitable tears of grief for the dead before her.
“I’ll have to alert the others at Azure Watch. I can’t possibly take all of these bodies back by myself. So many murdered, once again in the name of ‘glorious ascension’…”
Idun’na looked up to the sky, seeing the Sun slowly but surely fading as it dipped below the horizon. The shadow of the coming night started to creep over the area, covering the bodies of the fallen like a shroud.
“Where was the Light when he attacked them? Where was the Light when we fled with our lives from world after world?
She turned and walked as briskly as she could back to the small town in the center of the island. As she passed by a small pool of water, Idun’na stopped to glance at her weary reflection among the ripples. Alabaster hair covered her left eye, contrasting delicately with her dark-purple features.
“I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in months now…and I don’t know how I can sleep any better after this…”
Idun’na stood staring mournfully at the freshly dug graves, remaining behind as the other grieving draenei slipped away back into Azurewatch. At the edge of the horizon, the first stars of the evening sky were glimmering softly as the last touch of sunlight faded away. Nightfall started to creep in full over Azuremyst Isle, the inevitable gloom matching perfectly with the gloom in their hearts.
“I wish I hadn’t hesitated to attack that wretch,” Idun’na thought, clenching her fists as she continued to gaze at the burial ground. “Even if it was just to frighten him…I hate feeling so helpless like that. I wish I could be strong enough to decimate him and all the other blood-elven scum who keep hunting us."
She heard soft footsteps from behind and turned wearily to see none other than the Prophet himself approaching. Prophet Velen looked utterly forlorn, millennia of grief weighing heavily on his shoulders. Idun’na felt a fresh pang of sorrow when she beheld the tears still drying on his face.
“Good evening, Prophet,” she said, her voice wavering as more tears started to well up in her own eyes.
“Hello, Idun’na.” Velen sighed heavily as he looked at the graves behind her. “How are you faring? I was told that you had the misfortune of stumbling upon their bodies and the elven murderer himself.”
Idun’na hesitated, considering giving her automatic response, a non-indicative “I’m ok.” But in front of the Prophet, there was no point in denying the raw emotion laid bare for him to see.
“I feel so weak, Prophet,” she at last confessed. Idun’na looked at the graves and whispered, “I couldn’t do anything. I was so afraid, so horrified to see so many dead draenei lying at his feet. That murderer mocked me for my fear, but all I could do was spit words of anger in response. If I’d only arrived sooner…”
“I fear that he would’ve murdered you as well, Idun’na,” Velen answered. “But even then, I understand your anguish. I still worry, 13,000 years later, that I didn’t do enough to help our people when we fled Argus.”
“What?” Idun’na said as she turned to gawk at him. “But, Prophet, you’ve done so much to help us! You’ve always seemed so confident and assured in the Light, too! You’ve told us all about the Light’s intervention, about how it showed you what monsters we would become if we fell for the Fallen Titan’s false promises.”
Though she had been a mere infant at the time of their people’s exodus from Argus, Idun’na still had horrific nightmares about what had happened to their beloved homeworld. Man’ari eredar , once-noble faces twisted with hatred, bloodlust, and demonically twisted visages, slaughtering whoever would dare to turn their backs on the power of Sargeras.
And at the edge of those nightmares, Idun’na could see the vague, blurred outline of the father she’d never known, standing alongside dozens of other brave souls sacrificing their lives so that the rest of their people could safely escape.
“You are right, Idun’na,” Velen answered gravely. “But even I have faced doubts over the Light’s role in our lives. If I were to give so much as a hint of those doubts to our people, I fear that I could unwittingly impact our relationship with the Light. That is a sin I could never forgive myself for.”
“Oh, Prophet…” Idun’na said, placing a hand on his mantle. “You have done so much for us and given endless grace, grace that I and many others would call undeserved, to many of our enemies. Shouldn’t you give yourself grace, too?”
He smiled gratefully at her and looked up at the glittering stars revealing themselves amid the approaching night sky. Idun’na followed Velen’s gaze as he placed a kind hand on her shoulder in turn.
“Know, Idun’na, that everything you feel about the Light is perfectly reasonable and that you should never feel shame for your questions. Even in all of my long-lived years across the stars, there are times when I’ve wished the Light would have been more present, had done more to prevent suffering.”
The Prophet raised his free hand to point at one particularly brilliant star shining among the others.
“I’ve learned that the Light, at times, is quite similar to a star shedding its radiance far away in the darkness. It’s a symbol of hope, giving inspiration to all who gaze upon it, but even then, we understandably ache to feel its presence by our side. This is truest in times of great anguish.”
Idun’na breathed deeply, feeling a much-needed sense of tranquility at Velen’s words. To have everything weighing on her heart be validated by their people’s most faithful individual was incredibly freeing.
“I can only surmise, Idun’na, about the Light’s true nature. Perhaps it can’t, or even won’t, prevent suffering. Perhaps, instead, it works to alleviate our suffering, even in the most subtle of ways.”
“How so, Prophet?” Idun’na asked eagerly.
He gazed around them at the lush scenery of Azuremyst as the island lay quiet underneath the shimmering firmament above. The White Lady started to rise at the other end of the horizon, the main moon of Azeroth venerated by the kal’dorei as the goddess Elune.
“Our people have endured tragedy after tragedy, searching for a home that constantly seems out of reach. But after the Exodar crashed here on Azuremyst, we came into contact with the gracious night elves, who welcomed us as neighbors. And now, the Alliance has offered us a permanent refuge as a member of their coalition.”
“You think the Light worked to guide us here to Azeroth after we fled from Outland?” Idun’na spoke the question in awe. “Even when we were escaping from the pursuit of those damned Sunfury elves?”
“I do, Idun’na.” Velen gazed at the Exodar in the distance, the purple crystals of the interstellar ship reflecting the celestial lights overhead. “I think the Light’s most prevalent, enduring action has been bringing hope out of the ashes of suffering.”
“‘Hope out of the ashes’, huh…”
“When the time is right, perhaps the Light will guide us, in turn, to bring hope to others trapped in anguish,” the Prophet mused. “I look forward to the day when you, myself, and the others can return to the sanctuary of Shattrath and reunite with our people still there. High Priestess Ishanah and the Aldor will no doubt be thrilled to meet you and all the other young draenei eager to help.”
He turned to Idun’na and said gently, “But be patient with yourself, my child. You will become strong enough to defeat many of our adversaries. For now, take your time as you learn the depths of your abilities. When you are ready, we will travel with the Alliance through the Dark Portal itself, march into Outland, and bring justice to that shattered world.”
“It will be my greatest honor, Prophet,” Idun’na said with a wide grin.
“And now, for the next step towards that journey, let us both retire for the night.” Velen chuckled as he stretched his exhausted frame. “We all deserve a long rest after today.”
They walked together back into Azurewatch, gazing up at the stars one more time, wishing silently for hope to guide their path forward.