A soft melody mingled with the breeze flowing among the temple gardens of Darnassus. The haunting song was like the subtle hint of a pouring rain carried in on a windy spring day. Alasgida leaned her back into the tree behind her, arms folded across her chest, as she chewed idly at a stem of morrowgrain. Dark leathers, black hair and mahogany skin made it easy to remain unseen in the shadowed woods. A twinge of regret and loss tainted the briefest of smiles as she closed her eyes at another graceful lilt in the song.
Her head told her to leave, but her feet refused to budge, so she opened her eyes and watched as the priestess bent to garden tasks, working with earth and plants. Concealed in the shadow, Gida bit down on the impulse to approach the singer. The priestess pushed her long, silvery-white braid back over her shoulder, consumed by song and duty. Gida followed her movements, briefly closing her eyes to force away the threat of memories, regaining control of emotion. It would be different this time.
The melancholy hymn to the goddess, Elune, lifted, a soulful lilt, pleading for guidance…or company. Gida did not know enough of the kaldorei language to accurately translate the whole song. Attempting to resist the urge to ease the loneliness expressed in song, Gida shifted her weight against the tree, stiffening when she made a soft scraping noise. The song froze on the Kaldorei priestess’ lips and she stood up straight, one of her long, pointed ears twitching toward Gida.
I can’t… Against her own desire, Gida slipped silently around the trunk of the tree, using the shadows to remain hidden.
“Alah?” The priestess called in Darnassian.
Sorry Loomy…I can’t. Gida shut her eyes and shook her head before shifting quietly through shadows and out of Darnassus.
She stopped at the Rut’Theran docks, finally stepping out of shadow and into the light. There could be no rest, despite the lack of visible threat; hidden dangers struck harder.
“You shouldn’t be here.” The steps behind her were light, but Gida knew they were there.
“It’s not your business,” Gida said. She kept her eyes on the choppy dark sea and hazy outline of the mainland beyond.
“It is my business. Do not forget who you work for.” The soft alto voice behind her held the near-musical kaldorei accent.
Gida turned to face Shilara, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow. “I am human, and not one of your damned priestesses. I know who I work for.” Shilara opened her mouth but Gida cut her off quickly. “Shut your lectures, I needed a reminder. She didn’t see me, and I’m leaving now.”
Shilara openly glared but resorted to a simple nod. “See you do not return. We all know she cannot see you.”
Gida scoffed and turned her back. “Don’t pretend you know more about this than I do priestess.” The ship pulled in to port and Gida boarded, not looking back.