Eleeria Silverwing

Not Yet

There is something about all this -- these changes. So many people asking me to let the past go. Be someone you weren't, become someone new. Change, Eleeria! That seems to be the theme of the new year, if anyone counts these years any more. Change.

Ethalarian told me I don't need to look back anymore. I am not an assassin any longer. I’m a proud Knight-Initiate. Hyrall told me the same thing -- prettier words, but the same meaning. I am released from this, from my past, from all of it. I am Chosen, I’m no longer a simple assassin, I am something different. Better. A predator. But it's not that simple. I can't release myself from several hundred years of training. Not all at once -- maybe not ever. I can call myself a blood knight over and over again, but I wouldn't be a blood knight now if I hadn't been an assassin then. If my footprints hadn't led me to him -- hadn't led me to Black Dawn. It is a path and I am walking it, and I can't remember everywhere I've been on it, but to assume the path simply starts here is ridiculous.

There is no turning back now. From Black Dawn, from the Blood Knight Order, from any of it. All I ever wanted in my life was to be free, Erinius, but now I realize freedom's a lie. I will never be free. If I want to meet people, want to grow -- I can't be free. Or at least not freedom the way I've always imagined it. I have aWlways thought people are just chains that bind you to something, to an idea or an organization. That's how I've always thought of them. That's why I killed you. Why I didn't have any friends, why I pushed people away -- still push people away, when I want so badly to be free.

But that is also why I lost my hand. Why I ended up in a dungeon in Lordaeron. Why I lost so much, watched everything slip through my fingers. I attached myself to nothing, and then I was surprised that nothing stayed. I made myself ephemeral when I wanted to be anything but.

Am I happy? About the Blood Knight Order, most certainly. The look of pride on Shannon Larry's face was nearly as good as his Winter's Veil present. I don't doubt that I can do this. It's different -- military strategy? Supply lines? Cavalry? -- but I was born to be a weapon. I was born for this, to learn this. There is nothing you cannot put in my hands that I couldn't learn to wield. That hasn't changed. I am the finest weapon that's ever been made. The Blood Knights want a soldier, and I'm very good at that, too. It is simply freeing me to follow orders from a different hand -- justification of bad deeds. Oh, we kill in the name of Quel'thalas now, Erinius. You know the State has ever been a band of common thugs.

This is why I burn these letters. Happiness is mandatory.

But the name comes with power. There is a prestige to it. A burden, to forever be set apart from others -- but power, yes. There are places in Sin'dorei society that only Blood Knights can tread. There are places now open to me that would have slammed their doors in common, poor Eleeria's face. I'm starting to make overtures towards the Crusade, as well. Perhaps in time, the Silver Hand-- yes, I want them all. I will play all of them to the greatest effect possible. A tabard and a nice set of armor accompanied with a smile will get me a lot of things.

About Black Dawn?

I almost said no, you know. I did think about it -- would it have been embarrassing? Yes, absolutely. To publicly turn down Hyrall in front of all those eyes on my back, searching for something meaningful out of this order...

I thought about Tellarian. About how one decision to help our allies led to disaster. How poorly we handled it. How poorly Ihandled it. Will I handle it better, next time? I don't know. I will try -- gods, I will try. It is hard, not to stare into the faces of commoners and see myself staring back. That isn’t me -- it isn’t my situation and gods, I know it to be true that they’re working with cultists, but there’s just something…

I thought about loneliness. I feel as if I am drifting -- I don’t have any friends, or those that I have are unreachable, distant. I am so lonely. I miss companionship -- I miss having someone to talk to every day, to sit with and chat with. Admittedly, watching everyone cozy up on the edge of the dias and chat last night made me jealous -- I miss that companionship. I miss it so much, and yet…

It’s just not safe. They are people, and I am not a person -- I am just a weapon, and it’s better for everyone if I’m not a companion. If I’m not a friend, if I am just Eldriana Fairlight, ephemeral and mysterious and where does she come from? Where does she disappear to? I’m just a weapon. That’s it -- that’s all I can ever be, to these people.

But...I thought about Cayeli. And Elystirra. And how proud they looked. Let me prove to you that we’re not all like Ahral. Cayeli’s words, or close enough; I do trust her. I trust Ely as well. Them, Amiarie, Lilliana -- hell, even Hyrall, I’d like to get closer to. Aldarra, even. I want friends, Erinius. That’s such a tentative, delicate word these days. I am not a tentative, delicate person.

I thought about power. Queen of Quel’thalas. Ruler of continents. Destroyer of worlds.

I want everything so badly. 

So I said yes.

I told Amiarie I believe in Black Dawn. That was not a lie.

But I am lying to everyone.

Part of me wonders if I should keep it up. The sensible part remembers the Sunguard and says yes. Yes! Let them think I am pleasant, a little stupid — hide everything bad and push it down until I am smiles and the warmth of an aura of light. There can be no consequences if the lie is never told, right? If I play the lie to its end, to my end. They won’t see the monster lying beneath the skin of the woman standing in front of them. She’s an animal — not even, a feral spirit. An element. I have hidden her away so thoroughly she does not exist, behind walls and artifice, smiles and lies.

The real Eleeria Silverwing is better off dead.

I remember her though. When Krishnan stripped away the walls I howled and everything came back. She is fire, she is uncontrollable rage and the burn of everything good and kind inside. I scared him, a little bit, I think. I remember now what I had repressed and forgotten with time and magic together. Eleeria had no friends because friends were an alien concept. She saw people as pawns — as tools. Everything was disposable. Everything is at my fingertips, and I could let all that go. I could let her go. It would be easy enough to settle permanently into Eldriana once more. She is...nice. Not kind. But nice. Funny. Spirited, full of life. She has a temper, but it doesn’t consume. It simmers, not burns. Her life would be safe; it would be the one Waraylon always wanted for us. He called me Eleeria, but he didn’t want Eleeria. He wanted Eldriana with a different name. The night I opened up and we fought over that stupid staff was enough to show me that.

I stared in the mirror when I got home and barely recognized myself. Blood streaked across my features, sharp eyes, sharp smile. It’s been a long, long time since I’ve seen that face. A lifetime ago — a hand ago, some sanity ago. I reached forward towards the mirror, towards my reflection, but I stopped myself before I touched the glass. There was something dangerous about it -- about me. Why do I hesitate? Am I not supposed to be metaphorically freed to do whatever I want? Don’t I want to be myself again?

Let me out.

No, not yet.

Let me out.

It’s too much anger, I’m not sure-- not yet. Not yet. Let the lies continue a little longer. It harms no one, if they don’t know it for a lie. I’ve been hurting myself for years; a few more months, a few more years in their totality won’t hurt me now.

That’s my decision and I stand by it.

Not. Yet.