Wildfire Riders

It was a dark night in Israia's Stormwind Apartment, and worse in her courtyard than it was inside. Inside, all the lanterns were lit as they were needed, providing a cool blue glow over the smooth dark-woods that made up every floorboard and door threshold in the building. But outside, where she stayed tonight, the lanterns were not lit yet. They never were.

It is here that we find our heroine; Israia "Silverwind", surname forced upon her by it's suede touch of the tongue, when she sought her first apartment in the human city. To be registered under their census and own land, you had to have a surname. Silverwind was her choice.

Israia slept peacefully under the soft moonlight, in the softer grasses of her courtyard. She was one of the few in the city who could afford an actual courtyard to her apartment, though she did not choose it herself; That was Elanstowyn's doing. But while she had first hated the thought of another room between herself and her bed(though Elanstowyn never would hear the complaint), she had grown to love the smell and feel of the open, grassy area, with a fountain in the center that rarely did much more than look pretty, let alone circulate water. The last few weeks she had even decided to try and enrich the courtyard, filling it with all manner of flowers from Alishe Na'shaile's own hand. Though it had only been weeks, it already had begun to feel like home to her, more than even her room. And so she slept there.

Or, she would have hoped. For tonight, she remembered.


"You threaten me?", the loud, yet teasing voice of Air itself spoke to her. It wasn't as dark this night. Twilight dotted the sky, the stars so thick that even on this mountaintop, one could see plainly. Unlike the other mountains on the Isle, this one was not covered in grass or bush or tree, though signs of each were in it. This mountain was the final resting place of their vessel out of harm's way, the aptly-named Exodar.

"Of course not, Susurrus. Only a fool would dare threaten the wind itself. I only warn, for your sake, that you not know of the chance you take by not allowing me to carry your charge. This Island and the surrounding waters need cleansing, and you know only Shaman are able to cleanse the waters here. The Druids won't see this place for months." Israia was still dressed in entirely leathers. Most of them looked ragged, unkempt and barely in semblance of actual clothing. The leathers were of her greater youth, even if it was only two years ago.

"Mortals were never good at their subtleties. And you are even worse at lying." The gigantic form of the wind elemental, acting as avatar of the Air itself for the region, dispersed, and reappeared nearly on top of her. "You do not make demands, let alone requests, of the Elements. My brothers were fools to allow you the graces you already possess. I would have expected Fire to know better, not continue his petty squabble with Water, even in the face of such ignorance, and reckless disregard for what was requested of him." Susurrus was truly angry, now. Violet sparks of lightning shot out of his form, scorching the earth in any place unlucky enough to tempt it, and some even into Israia's leathers. The sparks were small and weak, perhaps only for show, but an apt view of his rage.

But, Israia would step further into the maelstrom. "Who is the fool, resisting help where they so direly need it? Earth may have had it's reservations, but you refuse on pride. You only ask for your own ending, now. An avatar of Air only makes agreements that benefits Air. But missing an opportunity to help restore the wind of Azuremyst-"

Susurrus boomed, drowning out her words. "THE MORTAL'S NAME FOR THIS PLACE IS BLASPHEMY ALONE. THE ELEMENTS ONLY KNOW THIS PLACE AS-"

Israia would have none of it. "AZUREMYST ISLE NEEDS THESE MORTALS!" Her own anger now rose, and though it could never threaten an Elemental like Susurrus, it forced him to pause, even as the storm began to take around her.

"Then take Air's blessing, and heal thy putrid sense of pride!" he roared back at her, with a blast of lightning and gust of air that felt not unlike a dozen hands, throwing her off of the mountain, while electricity drilled into her stomach. She fell for a long time, and landed in the water below.

But she was alive.


Israia would wake with a start, her body shaking from the last sight in her dream, that of Susurrus. He was still there, on that mountain, still angry at her. She knew it, she felt it- his blessing had left her right arm tender for years now, each moment the Air responding to her call, another chance to break her arm as she did in the early days. She could withstand it now, but it always hurt. Always.

She found herself sweating, and from it, dirtier than she remembered being when she lied down. The perspiration on the back of her neck brought grass and dirt with her as she sat up, and when she looked to the ground around her, the markings of her dragging her nails through the ground were obvious. One nail even bled, the sharp pain just now coming into mind.

Israia had made this garden, ignorant of her own disrespect to the Elements, but as she tried each week to grow in her healing powers, she always found a wall. It wasn't only with Air, but with all of them. Air may have been the weakest connection(or, sometimes, the strongest) to her, but the others never felt like her own. She never felt like she was their's, either.

Israia would run her other hand over the nail, the wound healing immediately, though blood was trapped underneath the nail, where only a bath could reach. She would pass her hand similarly over the ground, smoothing out the places her fingers dragged through, though they would still lay obvious for anyone caring to look. She wasn't a Druid, after all; Life was never her charge.

As she pushed herself up to her hooves, she would look down to her old orange and gold gown, with it's newest dirt marks and additions of grass. Slapping it off into reasonable cleanliness, she would move for the door to the rest of her home, stepping into that cool blue light provided by the lanterns, with their mana crystals. They won't let me do more, no matter my attempts to atone, no matter my desire to help, she thought for the hundredth time. It isn't fair. I finally do as they desire, and they keep me from that as well. Is their own pride so great that they refuse to help themselves, as I claimed before? Though she knew, that answered the question itself. She had claimed to help them, and while she had, she betrayed their trust equally. As much as she didn't trust them, they distrusted her even more, and with good reason.

Then perhaps I should apologize, and ask for forgiveness. Apologize, to Air.

Early the next day, in her room cool with the crispness of winter, Israia could be found packing her clothes into a small dragonhide bag, with the pullstring currently tucked somewhere around the edges of the bag's opening. Already it had held most of her armor and a few reagents, but Israia was hoping to find a way to stuff both of her axes in as well. As she twisted and pushed against the chainmail, loud clinks could be heard throughout the top floor of her apartment.

"No, Bourbon," Elanstowyn hissed as the cub attempted to ransack her belongings. The bear was becoming too large to handle properly and she had endured her share of nips and scratches. Lucky, then, that she was some type of healer. She was about to scold the dense beast when she heard the sounds from the other room. Pushing herself up off of her heels, she made her way to the door of her room, and looked out into the hall. "Israia?"

"Yes, Elan?" she yelled out, not letting her gaze stray for even a moment.

Shortly thereafter, Elanstowyn appeared at the threshold to Israia's room. Leaning against the frame, she looked over the room and noted the empty, gaping drawers. "I suppose you're off to somewhere?"

Israia nodded, looking up to her. "Taking a long trip back to Azuremyst," she said, her mouth still open to continue, before deciding against it and awkwardly going back to packing her things.
Elanstowyn quirked her brow. "To the Exodar? Visiting someone?"

"I'm going to see the Elements. It's time I... made things right." Israia shrugged.

Elanstowyn stepped into the room, offering a small, shallow smile to Israia. "Well, do you need help packing? Perhaps you should take some tea, and throw a party?" It was hard to keep the irritation out of her voice. "What do you need to visit the elements of Azuremyst for?"

Israia shook her head with a sigh. "I can't become a better healer without their help. And they won't help me without their blessing, so that... we can be ready for the Citadel." She would shrug off her thoughts, trying to not drag herself down. "Even if just to help some of the Ebon Blade hold the gates," she muttered, twisting to sit on her bed.

Elanstowyn nodded. "I have never dealt with elements so intimately, so I can't level with you. Why won't they help you? It seems... worthy."

"What I have with the Elements... is more like a business arrangement. I request their 'help' to defeat my foes and occasionally help myself, and they can use me as they see fit. Usually our goals are one and the same, but... we didn't come to the agreement amiably."

Elanstowyn moved to sit beside Israia on the bed, folding her hands over her lap and studying her bitten nails. "Not an amiable agreement? Strange. It wouldn't seem bad, to have a powerful tool such as yourself for disposal. What were their qualms?"

"I destroyed the first avatar of Earth that wouldn't grant me their blessing. The second was more intimidated." Israia said quickly and quietly.

"Oh. Not very ambassadorial, then. I can see the problems that would ensue." Elanstowyn grumbled as she shook her head. "They hold a grudge now?"

Israia nodded. "Earth has found it within itself to forgive me, but... Air, less so. None of them particularly like me, though Earth, Fire, and Water have yet to actually harm me."

"You'll have to forgive me, I've never been much in the society of elements. Why does the wind give such a damn? It's a thing of the past, and I'm sure you've repaid the debt double-fold."
"I might have threatened their Avatar." Israia said, biting her lip.

"Recently?"

Israia shook her head. "Years ago. But the Elements are eternal- to them, all of this is recent. Susurrus alone is probably tens of thousands of years old, if not more. And he has always been proud." Israia trailed off trailing off. She twisted to her bag, and pull the string tight around the top.

"Sounds like a ripe bastard to me. Are you going to consult this 'Susurrus' again? Is there only the one Avatar?"

"There are more, but they won't give me what I need unless I apologize to Susurrus. He'll be the first one I go to." Israia grinned slightly, looking down at her knees underneath her gown. "If he doesn't throw me off of the mountain again, at least."

Elanstowyn frowned with concern. "Threw you off the mountain? For threatening him? I suppose they are fickle entities, but..." Her voice hesitated for a moment. "This is ridiculous."

"Tossing me off the mountain also gave me what I wanted, back then. I'd pay it ten times over if it gave me what I wanted now." She said with a nervous swallow. "Though, if you don't get a letter from me a few days after I'm gone, come looking for me on the beach beneath the mountain the Exodar crashed into." Israia chuckled morbidly.

"What you're asking them doesn't seem like much, it almost even seems like you're doing them a favor." Elanstowyn scoffed. "Perhaps you should take a parachute?"

Israia grinned. "No, I'll be fine. Just have to hope I'm still conscious when I hit the water." Turning away from Elanstowyn, Israia stood and swung her bag onto her back. "This is your home while I'm gone. Use it as such. And..." Israia hesitated, looking around the room while taking a deep breath. "...if I don't come back, it's all yours. Every last bit." She stuck out her hand to Elanstowyn for a shake.

The night elf studied Israia for a long moment, before taking Israia's hand and squeezing softly. "I suppose letters wouldn't reach you, in return?"

Israia shook her head. "They will. Feel free to write- I'll need the support." She squeezed back, holding Elanstowyn's hand for a while and staring at her, with a slight smile curling at the edges of her lips. Then, on impulse, she pulled Elanstowyn up and into an embrace, dropping the bag behind her. "Thank you." Israia whispered into her ear.

Elanstowyn's surprise was quickly replaced by warmth as she hugged Israia back, grinning contently. "Thank you as well, Israia. Fortune find you, and may your journey be swift."
Israia would nod, pick her bag back up, and look to Elanstowyn. "Stay safe." She said with a smile, before walking out of the room toward the stairs. She would be outside in minutes, on her way to the harbor; she had a boat to catch.



Silvergale never was the most pleasant place to begin with. Long before the Exodar crash landed on its sister island to the south, debris from the ship was left piercing the ground from it's northernmost point to as far as it's southern bridge. It had long been a haven for all manner of demonic elements, but with the arcane energies of the ship's crystals littered throughout the island polluting the island itself, it only fit to be renamed Bloodmyst. The oceans that surrounded it retained the dark color, and thusly, the spirits themselves took on the pollution, many tainted to their core.

However, one spirit, the Avatar of water, did not succumb to the pollution. Instead, he kept himself to the greatest depths of the ocean, where the bloody water dissipated. This kept him from those spirits who lost their way, and from the countless demons that grew in number every day. However, it did not keep him from the Draenei he had become so indebted to, as they together fought to cleanse the island of it's decay.

Israia however, had done no such good deed. She had gone straight from the Spirit of Fire, his blessing fresh from her fingers, swallowing the water just enough to allow her breath. It was here, that Aqueous assaulted her mind. "You have no business in my presence, little Draenei. You are no shaman, and even less a proper draenei. Your own Gods have forsaken you, and your Master pities you. You are no more destined for my power than the Murlocs you slaughtered on your way to me."

She would open her mouth to speak, and regret it just as quickly, the water quickly forcing it's way in, until the Avatar granted her a reprieve. "But obviously both Earth and Fire see the potential in me. Do you doubt their wisdom?"

"Of course I do. Your last Avatar was not called Temper without reason."

"Then what if I reminded you that your own beloved Nobundo thought I was deserving? You might call it pity, but I doubt it could be referred to as pity since the last we spoke." She would have grinned, but at this point Israia was too scared of drowning to do much more than hold her breath and pray she did not anger the Avatar more than she could handle. She was, after all, four-hundred feet under water.

"I would say that pity goes a long way. You've shown no dedication to the Elements-"

She cut him off. "Beside the work I'm sure he told you that I performed on Azuremyst before I visited Fire, and more on Draenor itself. The Naaru may have 'forsaken' me, but that did not stop my work." She pushed herself closer to the spirit, and reached out a hand. "You have trusted the Draenei with so much. Why not trust the judgement of Fire, and perhaps show yourself to be more compassionate than fickle?"

Aqueous hesitated a long while, before moving forward without message and enveloping Israia. At first, the warmth she felt was oppressing, her lips and lungs failing under the pressure, until she gave in, and found herself alive, and the Avatar fading from his form. It was done; She had her third blessing.

Israia was already tiring of her time on the ship, barely a day into the voyage. She had never spent much time on the sea in her travels before, and was always more comfortable on the larger ships that went to Northrend- these smaller vessels constantly felt as if they were the weather's plaything, being taken wherever the winds would instead of actually trying to maintain a path. It didn't help that they lurched.

Her cabin was what used to be the Captain's quarters, but with enough gold on the table, she was easily parted with a decent bed for the night. The windows lining the room bathed the room in Elune's light, a pleasant glow that a lantern could never hope to reproduce. Israia had been hoping to sleep through most of the trip, but that plan faded away after she simply couldn't sleep. She would have found work to do, but it would seem regrettable considering how much she had paid the Captain. So, she was left to stew in her room, watching the water and the round reflection of her Goddess.


Israia's pack had been lost days before. The longer she spent on Azuremyst, the more she regretted her choice of not just continuing her training as a soldier, and perhaps going with the contingent that was now in Stormwind. The elders had not let much of anyone out until two weeks had gone by, a small party finding and making peace with the Night Elves in their 'giant tree', and confirming the world was more hospitable than they had been lead to believe.

Israia herself had been out for only five days now, and if not for her insistence, it would have been even longer. She had been led to the northern part of Azuremyst by an Elder in the hastily-built Azure Watch, to a place he referred to as the "Emberglade". What a beautiful name, she thought, for a burnt down forest.

Stepping over the third blackened tree husk yet, her hopes were dwindling more every minute. These were definitely the signs of the Elementals she sought, but the spirits themselves were nowhere to be found. Eventually, she would find a large, pit-like clearing, with still-standing trees on each side, strong despite what must have been the worst fire the island had seen in hundreds of years.

In the center of the pit was the smallest twig, still smoldering with a dim flame. Reaching down to pick it up, she would look it over, and slowly push herself back to standing, turning the twig over to watch as it burned, slowly. But as she did, she barely noticed the sudden warmth around her. However, the roar of flames would be hard to miss, moments later. Now, the forest around her itself was burning, hot and bright, in every direction. Flames leapt out at her from seemingly every direction, singing her clothes, hair and skin fairly quickly. Only when she dropped the twig from fear of being swallowed by the flame however, did she notice the sound... of laughter?

She twisted to find the sound, only to see an Elemental as large as the forest itself, staring down at her, its chest expanding with the continuous, booming laughter. However, as she stared up at him in awe, she would step back, and quickly realize that the flames themselves around her began to recede, and the spirit shrink in size, quickly, though the laughter never ceased, not until she heard the spirit speak.

"You take fear for your life so quickly! How cowardly the murderer of Obsidin is!" the Elemental flared out to her left, then seemed to disappear. The next voice would be behind her: "You truly thought the flames would take you! The look on your face, priceless, amazing, everything I could have hoped for!" She turned to see it, now a 'mere' shadow of its former self, but still as large as even the biggest Elekk. "To think he lost to you so easily, it, it- it's unbelievable!" the spirit exclaimed, as another round of laughter seemed to feed the flames around the clearing.

"Shut your-" Israia began, quickly realizing that the Element had no mouth to shut, and if it did, it was certainly not using it to talk. "How dare you mock me, I destroyed your brother, this island's caretaker for hundreds of years!" Her pride was certainly hurt by the laughter, though now, she truly could not summon the courage it had taken to do the deed.

"The island's caretaker? Girl, your 'caretaker' was but a babe. The strongest of the babes of his kind, but he was no true Avatar, yet. Merely a child to grow." He would seem to flare out again at her, but the flames would curl before they reached her skin. "Your audacity is most impressive, actually thinking you can take from us what you desire. And to succeed! What a wonderful tale to tell."

Israia swallowed, hoping some pride could accompany it. "I only take because they would not offer. I know my destiny, and it is with your powers at my side."

The Avatar did not respond to her for quite awhile. Instead, he seemed to fade away, his monstrous face appearing in the flames around her constantly. She had never seen it before so easily, but she was sure these flames were no different than the ones taken to her home.

"Then, girl, you will live up to my offer, should I make it?"

"Of course. You need only trust me."

"Trust you?" The flames laughed once more. "Trusting your Master was difficult. Trusting a murderer is impossible." The avatar would continue laughing, as it formed again before her. "But trust is not required to give you my blessing. However, compliance is." The voice would pause, the clearing growing quieter, before he continued.

"They call me Temper. Perhaps I hold the slightest of grudges, but I rarely lash out at those undeserving- is it so wrong, to burn those who would taint me with the Fel?" A gust of blisteringly-hot air swirled around her, and only then did she notice the other faces. This pit was not natural; No, this had been a clearing before. The faces of Satyr were all around her, burnt down to their blackened skulls, buried in the pit. "But most, I forgive. As long as they allow me a single pleasure, on their behalf."

"A pleasure?" Israia asked, her voice wary, now careful to not anger him.

"A pleasure! A joke, a trick, a prank, something small and annoying that might fill them with joy after the fact. That, my dear, is what you are now. What you are to me- You, you shall receieve my blessing, with a promise you give me."

"W-What's this promise?"

"Ever the lion." the Avatar said with another laugh. "The promise, is that you will become a Shaman my dear, and especially, gain the blessing of my dear friend, Aqueous. You'll find him on Bloodmyst- I'm sure you'll be happy to meet him. He is of Water, after all."

Israia hesitated. "What is the catch? What prank am I playing?"

"Only that he would align himself with a murderer, even if it was of his greatest enemy." Did the flames...grin?

"Greatest enemy? I thought that would be you." She asked with hesitation.

"No, no child. Have you ever seen the oceans swallowed by flame? Water and I, we may not like one another, but we stay out of each other's way as best we are able. And sometimes, sometimes, I warm his heart."

With this, Temper would again fade, but now, he faded with his inferno. In seconds, the forest would be clear and quiet again, the only sign of their conversation, the momentary sound of a tree falling, unable to carry itself as a burden any longer. The flames were gone.


Israia had not realized that she had fallen asleep, when she awoke next. The rattling of the door was accompanied with the rough voice of a woman who spent too much time drinking. "Up 'n Adam girl! You're in Auberdine, now get tha hell out of my room and off m'ship!"

Israia would rush to get up, grabbing her clothes and stuffing them into her pack, ignoring the sound of the fist against the door.

"D'ye hear me, ya daft girl? Get offa my-" She was about to bang against the door again, as the lock twisted open, and the door swung open to reveal Israia, who would quickly clasp the key into the dark human woman's hand, and disappear down the hall, then up the stairs overhead. Her Wintersaber, Dramora, was already on the dock, serene as always, now that the crew left her alone. When Israia got to her, she swung herself atop the beast and patted her softly, before taking the reins just in time for the cat to launch off, down the dock. From here, they would take the ferry to Azuremyst, the last leg of her trip.

It had been but a few hours that Israia was on the ferry to her people's island, but when she was done there, she did not visit the Exodar. By now, her anticipation, her absolute desire to see this through drove her to ride straight past the front gates on her way to the old mountain path she knew too well. The island hadn't aged much, and she had heard many reasons for this- the energies of the ship killing the flora, or perhaps the demonic taint of the Legion still affecting the entire island. Some surmised that perhaps even the spirits damned the Draenei. The last idea however, was more than wrong. The Draenei had the love of the spirits.

As Israia made her way up the summit, she saw two draenei girls, giggling and talking, on their way down. It had never been the most difficult climb, but the fear came from the risks involved. An air spirit atop a barren mountain only inspired the thought of falling from the side, though even then, one would land in water, and hopefully, live. She had, after all, and the spirit was after her. Others would be even luckier.

The day was overcast, though far to the east, likely over Auberdine itself, there were dark clouds of rain and thunder. It gave the skies a heavier feeling, one as if the sky itself would indeed fall, crushing the world beneath. However, it made it much warmer than she had been used to. Overall, it reminded her of the one she was about to meet. Susurrus. When he came near, you felt as if you knew something horrible was to come soon, yet the air was warm and crisp, just the same as before a storm. He certainly looked like what was on the horizon.


Israia had once been fresh and truly young. If not for it, she never would have become a Shaman, as she was destined to be. But because of it, it had always made the years harder. Especially considering she already found herself performing basic elemental magic at a young age, conjuring small whirlwinds, encouraging a fire to grow larger with nothing but her fingers, and even making a well where there was no water before.

Despite all of these abilities however, she was forbade from ever performing the magic. That rule however, was what was on discussion today.

"Every other child who can start a fire by rubbing two sticks together you encourage to take the path of the Elements, but you won't let me?" Israia's voice whined, stomping a hoof roughly over the stone floor.

"Every other child who can start a fire by rubbing two sticks together would not use those sticks to burn the next child, Israia. You are a warrior, not a Shaman. Peace is not of your heart." Nobundo's voice was quiet and even, a speech he had given her dozens, if not hundreds of times before. He was always kind to her, as he was the other children, and perhaps more; He had always admired her resolve, but her constant fights with the other children, her blasphemies and insults upon the Naaru, and her complete inability to be satisfied with what she was given had pushed many of the caretakers to the edge of their minds. It was hard enough raising orphans; Raising one who thought she was an adult was harder.

"You just hate me! You think of me as man'aritar, and have since I was a child!" Tears were in her eyes now. This had been the fourth time in three days that this argument had arose, and they always continued as this. Nobundo had always been closer to Israia than the other children, if only to take some of the burden off of the few caretakers they had aboard the ship. However, it put her around that which she wanted the most, though he hated the idea of her ever receiving it. A Shaman was a fearsome sight on a battlefield, and he knew that was where she was destined.

He would shake his head once more, trying to pay her emotions no heed. "I would not spend my time with a man'ari no more than Velen. However, I spend it with you, child. I've told you more than once, you are destined to be a fighter; Join the Vindicators, swear yourself to the-"

"To the Naaru? To those beasts who never once dared to treat me like the others? You know what they think of your Shaman, Nobundo. That we are only a step away from Eredar themselves!" Israia couldn't help herself but to spit, her voice trembling with anger.

"They see us as the other half to what we chose to be, Child. We Draenei did not stay for peace- and those of us that must fight, become Vindicators." He sighed. He knew what came next.

"Your own Shaman carry weapons of their own, many times even two. And you've said it yourself, 'Shaman are a fearsome sight on the Battlefield'", he mouthed his lips to her words. "Give me a chance. Now, more than ever, you know we need Shaman. We need me, Farseer. Both to heal this land, and protect our people."

His throat clenched. This, was not the old argument. "And the rage in your heart? Can you control it?" He asked, finally turning from his work to stare at the young woman.

"I'm sure. I can use the elements themselves to stew my anger." Her lips curled into a smile, as she stepped closer. "Will you? Please? Let me train with you?"

"No." he said, turning back, though a grin spread across his own face. "...but that is because I know you have disobeyed my rules so much. Leave the Exodar. It is time you find Obsidin, the keeper of the Eastern Island. He-" Nobundo was cut off by a sudden, tight hug around him, the taller girl squeezing him nearly off of the ground.

"Thank you Farseer. I promise, you won't regret this."


"Oh, but how you did." Israia whispered to herself, pushing herself up the steep face before her.

Israia's head hung low, as she continued up the summit. By now, the climb was more difficult, Israia often taking several minutes to make even the shortest distance up the side. It made her reconsider her thoughts of the two girls that had come up before her. So little did Shaman ever return to their Avatars, she thought, regretting her own inability to see them. But it would change, after this. They had to accept her apology.

Israia took a moment to catch her breath. She wasn't far from the top she knew, turning to look back at the path she had come by. The ocean now was hundreds of feet below her, where before she could have dove off for a swim. Israia shook her head- No, she thought, I could still dive from here. A grin would have to take the place of a chuckle here, as she turned, intent on finishing her journey.


When Israia had left the Exodar, she had packed only a few things: Some food, a blanket, and an axe. She doubted she would need the blanket or the axe, as one of the Vindicator camps would be not far from the Ammen Vale, where she was now, but it was always better to carry a blanket with you than wish you had it later. The axe, if not for the same reason, than because it made her feel safe.

She had found the signs of the Earth Elementals that were nearby, the scratchings of stone against stone one would find here. The rumble would soon accompany them, a low sound one could hear from hills away, as she rounded the walls of the valley built into the mountainside. But what she looked for wouldn't be far; As she found the first Elemental, scurrying about at only a foot tall, she would smile. Israia had only thought they were cute before, but now she knew they would have to be friends to her. Friends and more.

The one known as Obsidin would be easy to find amongst all of his brethren. Not only was he larger, but amongst the dozens of elementals rumbling about underfoot, he was the only one whose rock was black, and solid. His form shined in the bright fog of the morning, his burning eyes making much of his form almost look demonic. But one could never mistake the feeling of serenity he gave; He had been here for hundreds of years, she had been told, and was the youngest Avatar she would meet in the coming days. This serenity was why he was chosen, after all.

"Greetings, O Great Avatar." Israia announced loudly, stepping into his view. His eyes had seemed bright before, but they almost seemed to 'open', the flames growing larger and brighter immediately upon her speaking. "My name is-"

"Israia." he spoke, the Elementals around him all pausing, and seeming to turn from her. Only when they stopped, did she realize just how many there were. There had to be dozens, of all shapes and sizes, now staring at her. But, his voice would immediately call her attention back to him. "Why are you on my hallowed soil?"

"I seek your blessing, Obsidin. My Master, the Farseer, he-" She would be cut off again, the Elemental's reputation seeming to not be the case with her.

"Is a fool, if he sent you to me. You defile the grounds you walk here, girl. As he has spoken to you of me and my brethren, he has spoken to me of you. Your path is that of a Vindicator, of the Naaru, not that of the Elements. Rage has no place with our power." Some of the smaller Elementals, at this point, seemed to rise up off of the ground, and lose their own form, their bodies of pebbles beginning to swirl around him, threateningly.

"B-But, Obsidin, he thought I was ready! That I could control my anger!" She stepped closer, the last vestiges of courage making themselves known.

However, Obsidin was not impressed. "Leave this place. You will receive no blessing, child. You are no Shaman, and never shall you become one." His voice was louder, and as solid as the boulders of his body. He made no movements toward her, but his disapproval shown itself in the quickening of the pebbles that twisted about.

Israia herself, let her head fall, and her body turn to go. He is the first Avatar we are to seek. The first, the first real approval of what I need. I am to be a Shaman. He will see it.

Israia stopped walking. Though Obsidin behind her spoke no words, she could tell from the slight difference in the rhythm of the rumble, that he was watching her. He is young. He is wrong. It is my destiny. Mine. And he shall not take it from me. And so, she reached up, and to the handle on her back, pulling her axe from it's strap, and turned.

"You will give me my blessing." She said, the simple words sounding as a threat. The glow in her eyes flared, and her grip on the weapon tightened, as she stepped closer to him. "It is not your decision to defy my destiny. This is mine." She raised the axe, and pointed it out at him, gritting her teeth. This, however, impressed him no more than her earlier courage, as a rock rained down on the blade of the axe, slamming it into the dirt below.

"You do not make demands of the Elements, child. I will not stand for this insult." Still, she stepped toward him again, pulling the axe from the ground.

"Give me your blessing." She said again, simply.

"Never." Obsidin knew what was coming.

Israia swung the axe from it's position low, the blade catching into one of the largest boulders, only to make a scratch and otherwise glance away. As she reared another strike at the body of the spirit, a rock half the size of her body swung itself from Obsidin's right side, a quick dodge from the small girl saving her from a shattered ribcage. But she did not relent- the axe raised high, she brought it down into the being's 'chest', but to no avail: The blade merely deflected away. The next three strikes, however perilous from his attacks, did no better.

He was playing with her.

Just as another strike came for him, he finally knocked her away, her body hitting the ground hard enough to shake even the bones in her limbs. As she opened her eyes, her vision doubled from the concussion, she saw no bright fog. Instead, only black, with the smallest of sheen- another hit, coming to crush her.

Israia twisted on instinct, rolling right over her axe by pure luck. As she grabbed the handle and rolled onto her feet, the boulder slammed into the ground, kicking up sand and dirt at her. She would dash back at it, jumping up and pushing off into the air, as she twisted the handle in her hand, and brought down the back of the axe onto the 'head' of the spirit, slamming it into it's body below.

As she came down with it, her body would land on the same boulder Obsidin's head would slam into. Reaching down, she took the head, the rock searing hot, and the smell of her burnt skin quickly filling the air. But she didn't care; Israia took her axe, and slammed the back of the blade into the head again, and again, and again. When it refused to move anymore, she let go with the only hand left to it, to continue slamming it into the head, with all of her remaining strength. Only after several minutes of her furious strikes, did she finally begin to wain from exhaustion, the remains of the spirit broken into dozens of small pebbles, all around, and not a single one of them warm to the touch, still.

Israia would stand up, her body covered in dust, and her axe broken at the handle. She looked around. All around her were dozens of elementals, careful to be quiet, with fear that she might take her wrath to them. However, one was not so lucky. For in that instant, a pink beam of lightning shot at him from the sky, causing his form to glow for a moment, then leave him. He was marked, and his eyes changed to the color of fire before her.

She knew what it meant. "You are the new Avatar of this Island. What say you?" Her voice was weak, and cracked.

"Have your blessing, Draenei." And with that, Israia turned, and walked out of the valley.


Israia had lost herself to her climbing, now. It had felt like hours, even if she was so far up. When she saw the first torch, she didn't even notice it. But the second, as she walked by it, was just in her way as she was about to fall. She smiled to herself, a second wind filling her as she knew she was at the top.

Following the easy path up the final steps, she began to try and summon her courage once more. For some reason, this felt like more; Like more than what it took to go into Serpentshrine, or Tempest Keep. No, this felt like that first time she came to Obsidin. Except this, this was worse.

As she stepped over the final ridge, she saw him. He was just as he was before, almost seemingly unchanged. She could feel the change in the air around her as she walked closer to him, the 'eyes' of the spirit nowhere to be found. However, they would show themselves quickly, when she spoke.

"Hello, Susurrus."

"Hello, Susurrus."

It was cold on top of the mountain. The wind was appropriately harsh for the home of the island's Avatar of Wind, gusts pushing toward the cliff face behind Israia. Her loose chainmail felt almost as if it was actually freezing over, if not for Israia's own use of her elements to warm the frigid links.

The elemental being swirled before her, tall and strong with his storm raging as violently as ever. It probably didn't help that he wasn't particularly happy for her presence. "What're you doing here, child?" he asked almost quietly for his norm.

"I'm here to see you. To talk. To..." She swallowed, hesitating. As her mouth opened to finish, he would choose that exact moment to cut her off.

"To defile this place."

Israia would take a deep breath, to calm her stricken nerves. "No, Great Avatar. To apologize." Israia would dip her head in shame, her eyes not even daring hint at the base of his form, though one could barely tell with all of the pebbles nearby unable to hold still.

She would wait for his response, but receive nothing. He didn't chide her, nor did he support her. He simply let her unnerve herself, a feat she would have not thought possible until now.

"I seek forgiveness for the grave sins I committed against you and your brethren. Though I feel I have done good with the power you have each bestowed upon me, I still hold no rights to the power besides what I have taken, by improper means." Israia would open her mouth to continue, but decide in secondary, that was enough for that statement.

"...do you seek relief? Revocation of your ties, or penance?" he offered. His voice was monotone, though grew in volume from before. She could not decide whether he was teasing her, or being gracious.

"I seek forgiveness, by whatever you require. I'd... if you would be so willing, I would like to become a proper Shaman, by you and yours." Another nervous swallow. Israia's throat grew dry in seconds on this mountaintop, and not only from the winds.

Susurrus would not speak again for several minutes, the bright lightning that raged for his sight not bursting into view.

"Return to the city of humans, mortal. I will speak with the Avatars. Consider this just short of extinguishing your flame."



A month would go by.

Israia found that the walk down was much easier than the one up, as there were no cliff faces, no falling rocks, no endless paths. However, there was time, at the bottom. On the boat returning. In Stormwind.

She would find that she had moved on. She might not have been able to heal as well as she had hoped to, but they had not taken away her powers yet either. They only left her with a black hole in her stomach that remained for as long as she thought about the subject.

Or so she thought, until one day, mere weeks after the riots, there was a knock at her door. A young human man, barely thirteen by the looks of him, with messy, short, and bright red hair, stood on her porch with a telegram in hand. "Wouldn't say who he was ma'am, but he did say an extra ten gold to get it to you within the hour."

She would pull it open, and read over the letter, once, twice, then three times. As the fourth went through, she would pull out another ten gold, and hand it to the boy, before shooing him off with her fingers, without even looking up.

In the finest calligraphy she had ever seen, it was written:


Dear Israia,

My name is Isalthot Mirtlebottom. I've been contacted by someone close to you, to remind you of your need to pay dues. He also said that you would know him by his sign.

His seal shall be over the letter.

Please appear at my home, no later than two weeks hence. You will find it west of the sixth lightpost, south of Cenarion Hold, is Silithus. Please, have some courtesy and try to arrive in the morning, after dawn.

Sincerely,
Isalthot Mirtlebottom

Finding the 'home' that she thought to be in the Silithus Sands was proving to be a hassle, even for her. Eli's paws dug into the sand, always bringing up large clumps of mud instead. The entire desert here had been reduced to this dry mud, from the Silithid who still held a tight reign over the land. If you dug down far enough, you might even begin to find their caves once more.

The home she would instead find, was not man-made, but a cave, built high into the western mountains. The walk up the mountain would be easy enough, with a clear, wide path. Eli would be close behind her the entire way, and once at the mouth of the cave, he would stand guard, waiting for his companion's return.

It was a large cave, never diverting, only leading straight. But far enough into the cave, pages of notebooks, journals, and tomes were littered about. In what frequency would grow further and further as she crept further inside. Eventually, the howling winds of the numerous sandstorms outside would subside, and she would be left with silence, as well as a complete inability to mask the clack of her hooves. So, she continued, at a brisk pace.

Eventually however, her hooves would echo. And more than that... she could feel moisture in the air. Quite a bit of it. And as she turned a final corner, she understood why. There was a large pool before her, with an island in the center, absolutely covered in pages upon pages, piled what must have been four feet high. The water itself had more pages across the top, hiding what was beneath. It was simply impossible not to take a step upon paper, or wade through it. But, at the top of the pile, was a man in a suit. With long, dark brown hair, bright green eyes and a small goatee, all of which obscured by a thick monocle that seemed to dominate his face, he seemed to only notice in the furthest reaches of his mind that she was there. He would still shout for his audience.

"Come closer, my dear. Closer. And do your best to avoid the priceless works, I'll eventually have to bind them all together. Oh, oh- no no no. Not that one. Step right, before stepping forward. There you are. Now then, you are Israia, are you not?" His own words didn't seem to echo through the cave like her own. They seemed resolute, if still loud.

"I- I am." She said clearly, stepping forward to the edge of the pool. "Are you Isalthot-"

"Come, come closer, you'll need this." He cut her off, the man holding up a small piece of note paper, with scrawled upon it three lines, each in a different color ink. One black, one blue, and one red. "Susurrus visited me himself- something I never thought I would see an Avatar do. They prove desperate often enough, but to even leave his place of power to see me speaks to just how far he wanted to go for you."

Israia did her best to concentrate on his words, though she found walking through the pool difficult. Her hooves constantly slipped, as the bottom seemed to be covered in pages as well. "He came here, to you? What... what is it that he wanted you to do for me?"

"Oh, don't be so naive, child. He didn't want me to do anything for you, he wanted me to figure out what you could do for the others. For I'm the only one he's ever forgiven..." He said, with a short chuckle. "Before you. However, that is a story for your return. For now, take this-" He was close enough to hand it to her now, sliding off of the pile, as sure in his boots as she might have been anywhere else. He would hand the note to her, and before she could read it, he would close her hand around it. "Do not read the names of the items until you are out of here. Many of the... novels, I have read here, might take offense to their utterance. Feel free however to say them all you like once you're outside though. Also- do find these items with haste. I don't know how well I'll be able to keep track of the spells required to use your reagents."

Israia couldn't help but pause, and blink. Even just through the momentary touch, she could feel the taint of the arcane. But even then, it was powerful. She might not have wielded much of it herself, but she knew the feeling when it tingled her skin.

"Where will I find them?" she asked, finally trying to stand up straight, even in the pool.

"That will be self evident. However, I will warn you- the impact of your gift will be much less, should you be seen. Make haste, and carry with you stealth. And do not, under any circumstances, involve anyone else in the procuring of these items. It would carry negative consequences for you both."

With that, he would turn, and climb back onto his pile, before picking up three papers at random, and muttering "Right, so, where was I..." Israia would leave the cave, taking her time to pull pages from her hooves and robes as she neared the exit, and finally once outside, would read the newly crumpled note.

"Reagents of the Avatars:

Earth: One Runed Stone of Crust, the newest Avatar of Earth

Water: One Vile of Dew from Wyrmscar Island

Fire: One Flinted Ember from the Emberglade

Good luck."