“I’m here to see Bishop Lancaster, he sent for me.” Niviene said to the third priest she’d been directed to, her voice taking on an impatient edge. It had been ages since she’d been to the Stormwind Cathedral and longer still since anyone there had thought to ask for her specifically. Unable to determine what the summons was about, the priestess had agreed to make the journey to the capital, certain she would be home before the school day was over.
“He’s just through there.” the priest motioned vaguely toward a door, his expression harried and dour. Niviene opened her mouth to speak but the man glowered at her and walked away. With a sigh the priestess walked through the indicated door, startled to see a bustle of activity with agitated clergy rushing around.
“There you are. I’ve been waiting for you. Really, we don’t have time to dawdle. Here, take these through that portal.” a woman shoved a crate of bandages into Niviene’s arms and pushed her unceremoniously, toward the stream of people going through a shimmering magical gateway. She stumbled, trying to catch her balance without dropping the box, “Wait.. I think there’s been a mistake…” her words were lost in the noise of the crowd. She tried to stop, but the press of people surged around her, pulling her with them into the portal.
Niviene moved with the press, clutching the box of medical supplies tightly to her chest, her eyes as wide as saucers as she took in her surroundings. It appeared that they had emerged through the portal onto a platform that floated in the sky. The architecture of the building unlike any she’d seen before.
“Another one of those Azerothian heroes.” the being that spoke floated above the ground, ethereal and mysterious. Though it didn’t seem to have a face Niviene felt sure it was sneering at her.
“No. I’m… there’s been a mistake… I shouldn’t be here.” she said.
“None of you should be. But the honored voice has spoken and we must obey.”
Niviene planted her feet, dropping the box with an audible thud as she placed her hands on her hips, her chin lifting in defiance, “No. I’m not going a step further. I don’t belong here.”
Bishop Lancaster pushed his way through the crowd, a scowl darkening his weathered features, “What is this? You are creating a spectacle. I will not have this! Move on priestess.”
“No.” she answered, squaring her shoulders and standing straighter, “I will not another step unless it’s back to Azeroth. I have children, a home, a husband. They need me.”
The bishop laughed, though there was no mirth in it, “Do you not think your husband will take care of the children? For many battles the cathedral has chosen him above you. They have pulled him into combat when it was you we needed. The battle before us requires someone with you… talants… your... gray eyes.”
Niviene shrank within herself for a moment. They wanted her to return to the shadow. To become that which she had fought so hard against.
Lancaster saw the fear in the priestess’ eyes, his voice altering slightly, cajoling, soft, almost kind, “Your king needs you madam, he is enslaved, he needs the strongest of Azeroth’s heroes to free him. The Lady Proudmoore needs you. We all need you.”
She lowered her head, her gaze locked to the ground as her mind raced. Braghaman would surely see to the children, to the academy. In the past five years she had stayed behind while he went off to war, while he fought to save the kingdom. Perhaps it was time for her to take up that mantle. He assured her that it was not his wish to be in the thick of things. He was content to stay home with the children. To be a father. And a husband…
But she had said the same. She wanted nothing more than to care for her family and the children of Darkshire.
Niviene raised her head, her sky blue eyes leveled on the bishop, “How can a righteous man force someone to act against their will? Is this truly what the Light has become? Are we so desperate that we enslave our people to follow blindly into battle? This is your will bishop, it is not mine. Nor is it the will of the Light.”
“You’re a silly woman aren’t you? You blindly followed Farthing, never even sensing the darkness in his soul. And now, your king needs you. You will do as the crown wills headmistress. You do not want to be seen as a traitor after all.”