The Stormwatcher

The snow and cold bit at his exposed skin, the winter wind snaked through his armor and tore at his core, stripping away his warmth. His hood flapped in the wind, for the storm would not permit it to stay over his head. His swords wer covered with ice, for the storm would not allow him to bear weapons. He carried on, shivering, feet plowing through the snow as lightning raged over his head; the Storm Peaks were known for inhospitality, and they spoke greatly of it this day, but he would not be deterred.

Her mind sensed his locale, but she did not say a word; even in her anger, he could feel her concern. It only drove him onward, moving towards the eye of the storm, following as the cold grew worse, and the lightning larger.

“Aessina, protect your follower,” he said through chattering teeth, moving into the eye of the storm.

The winds halted their violent march, but the cold ran fierce in the eye, yet Alorinis found the will to hold himself still. His vision focused admist the falling snow on the arcs of lightning dancing across blue fur, white fangs sharp enough to tear stone stood at his face’s height. The air from behind those teeth chilled him to the bone, the crackling fur rustled with thunder that shook the ground. Skoll, father of the stormwolves, Alpha of the northern storm, Titan-blessed son of Goldrinn stood before the mere Elf, and reminded Alorinis of his place in the world.

“So, you have finally come before me, Mate of She who is bonded to Mine,” the growling voice boomed at him.

“Yes, I have, Alpha of the northern storm.”

Alorinis remained standing, and leaned his neck backwards to display his unprotected neck to Skoll; this display acted as a sign of trust from Alorinis to Skoll, trust the great beast would not kill him. Skoll let forth a short growl and clenched his paws in the snow, but lifted his throat in kind, not that Alorinis had much chance of killing such a being to begin with.

“You may speak,” Skoll replied to let the Elf know he may relax himself.

Alorinis pulled his sniff neck back to its normal resting position, the cold still sapping away his strength and warmth. It appeared Skoll did not intend to share his cave, so Alorinis would have to make this quick.

“I come to seek your counsel,” Alorinis spoke hurridly but clearly as he could.

“Why does a dedicant of the Reclaimer need the counsel of the Stormborn?” Skoll asked the Elf mockingly, he knew why the Elf had come.

“I come before you not as a dedicant of the Reclaimer, but as the Mate of She who is bonder to Yours.”

“You come before a harsh judge.”

“I come to hear harsh words, so I may learn quickly.”

“You come to hear my counsel, yet you shake at my words, you shiver from my breath. How are you to hear from me, if you may not even stand near me?” Skoll barked out laughter, shaking his muzzle back and forth. “I counsel you to go and return when you no longer mind the cold.”

“I hear your counsel, Father of the stormwolves, but I seek greater counsel on matters more important.” Alorinis stammered, the cold biting at him harshly as if by Skoll’s whim, which it most likely was.

Skoll remained silent for a long moment, the behemoth wolf staring down at the Elf, and licking his tongue across his maw, the rows of glinting teeth shining like stars as they coursed with electric fury. A large paw lifted from the snow, drfting across it to crash back down in, gripping the ground beneath with its claws, and pulling the beast forward to leave the area in a speeding passion. Alorinis looked on in disbelief and sorrow as the stormwolf began to make his way away from him, locking his jaw as his mind raced to think of a new plan.

I can not track him in this storm, he will just make it worse when he smells me coming. I can beseech the Council of the Wilds, Goldrinn specifically, to call Skoll to a meeting with me. No, they will never accept such a thing, too petty of a concern. I could ask Eleneill, she does kno-

His thoughts were interrupted by words that filtered to his ear through the winds of the storm; the eye had moved with its summoner, leaving him in its harsher conditions.

“Coming, whelp?”

Alorinis took off without even nodding, still able to see the faint hint of blue light in the distance. No tracks could be seen in the snow, he had to move as quickly as his numb limbs could carry him just to keep the light in his field of vision. Blood pumped in his veins as he drove on, sense of determination fueling him forward and fighting against the cold death he breathed in every moment.

A long run, an hour or more he did not know, multiple sharp turns on a mountain side that nearly sent him to his death, but Alorinis had followed Skoll successfully and made it to his cave. Young stormwolves dotted the entrance, laying about the stone, and snarling at the newcomer. Alorinis kept his proximity as much as Skoll’s surging fur would permit, not wishing to come near the other beasts; his mind could already hear many of their thoughts, few favorable to him. He noted one or two other mortals among the stormwolves, others who had formed bonds with the family of beasts, one Dwarven male, possibly Thando’s family, and a Quel’dorei covered in furs, maybe one of his cousins by marriage.

Skoll lead them through the mouth and neck of the cave, down into the great belly of the natural structure, if it was natural and not carved by Skoll himself that is. Young pup stormwolves dashed around the room, mothers watching them on a ledge and keeping a watchful eye on the outsider, fathers fighting with eachother inside a cove on the other end; judging from the amount of stormwolves at the cave, Alorinis estimated that over half the pack had come in from the hunt to keep watch over the growing pups. Skoll paid little heed to the kin scattered around him and moved to a large bed of furs that rested in the back of the cave, turning on the furs and sitting to stare back at Alorinis, an older female stormwolf resting on the furs, nuzzling next to Skoll as he sat and looking at Alorinis with disinterest.

So then he does have his own mate, I suppose that makes sense. Can not just create his family as he was, I suppose.

“Well, Elf, speak. I bring you to my cave only in respect to She who is bonded to Mine, but I do not wish your scent lingering here longer than it need.” Skoll growled out at him, nodding to the Elf hurridly.

Alorinis shook as the warmth of the cave brushed against him, the static in the very air humming around his ears. His thoughts collected as his blood slowed, silenced the rush of the ocean in his ears. He had to ask the right questions, with the right words, or Skoll would likely give him vague answers and send him off with the pups at his heels. His eyes looked around the room once more, judging the amount of stormwolves around him, and set back on Skoll himself towering above.

“I seek counsel on my duties as Mate of the Alpha to Dellingr, son of Skoll, son of Goldrinn.”

“Am I to tell you all the duties of a mate? I would think an aged creature as yourself more than capable of such acts, or has that age ruined you for her?” Skoll returned mockingly.

“She finds herself caged by choices in her life, claiming I do not ask questions, but neither will she speak of her problems.”

“Sounds as if you just have excuses. Perhaps you should find one better suited to your mannerisms?”

“There is no better!” Alorinis hollered back at the behemoth, forgetting his place as anger poured through him. “I will not adhere to such ludicrous advice, and will beseech you to not speak of such!”

Skoll bristled at the increased volume, the fur on his back raising as a deep growl rumbled through his throat. Alorinis suddenly realized what he done, but knew he would never back away from what he had said, and resolved to stare back at Skoll and speakly in as humble a voice as he could muster.

“Forgive my disturbance of your cave’s peace, Alpha of the northern storm, but I refuse to accept the notion of leaving my Mate, and the suggestion turns the storm within me to a higher intensity,” he spoke slowly and in a low voice, hoping his safety in Aessina would let him live.

“Mind your tongue before me, whelp. I am no soldier in your little army, nor am I some child even to your age. I am born before storms of this world, and have seen the rise and doom of empires. You will show me the respect I deserve, especially in my hallowed cave.” Skoll spat back the words with lightning in the air, returning to his haunches to stare down at Alorinis.

“I seek your counsel concerning ways I may act and change my mannerisms, to better compliment the Alpha and guide her as she would have me do.” Alorinis said after taking a moment to reign his anger away.

She knew he had been angry, and she knew where he was, but she did not permit herself to ask of his safety. If he died in that situation, neither of them could blame anyone but Alorinis.

“You treat her as an infant in your arms, as if she has no clue what she is doing with herself, and yet she should.”

“It seems at many times she does not know.”

“She is not even upon her third century, whelp. Do you not remember your own third century and what you were like?”

“I remember my third century very well.”

“No. You remember what happened, what you did, and who did what to you. You forget how you thoughts. The ways your heart pulled at your mind, and how your very soul argued to who you were. You struggled to find your place in a world that you did not make sense of.” Skoll spoke back to him, slowly but with malice in his undertone. “You were just as she is, if not worse. She is only burdened in that she has you, always there trying to show her the errors she makes, and yet you were alone and with only yourself, a gift you do not realize.”

“Is it not in my duties as a mate to protect her from harm and wrongs?” He replied with a questioning voice.

“No. Your duties as a mate are to protect her from death, and help her learn. No one learns by doing the right thing every time, Elf. Mistakes and errors are the ink with which knowledge and wisdom are written. You let your heart get in the way of itself, and further your own damnation, and her own.”

“What am I to do then? Let her go off and make mistakes, bring tears upon her cheeks, and sorrow into her heart?”

“Yes. Just as you killed in wrongs, gave love to the wrong, and caused your own misery, you too must let her. Yes, at times she will be more volatile, but she is of the storm and it is her very nature.”

“But she is of the storm, how is she to ever calm down? She torments herself by calling for freedom, but knowing she does not wish for the lonliness it may bring. She tempers her heart by refusing to ask of me to run with her so she is not alone, and only further burdens herself by finding companionship in those who have freedom but leave her to lonliness still!” Alorinis shook at his words, shaking his head in his lack of understanding.

“Because she is of the storm, and her mistakes will be greater.” Skoll said, rising from his seat and turning down a tunnel in the belly of the cave. “Follow me, whelp.”

Alorinis nodded, moving to follow the stormwolf, but stopping upon hearing the growl of Skoll’s mate. Her deep blue eyes stared into his green pools, connecting unto his mind and speaking.

The storm can only take so many errors before it strikes the tree that seeks to block it.

The connection severed before Alorinis could retort, leaving him to only stumble towards Skoll, and continue to follow the beast, thinking on the words of the mate.

Skoll brought Alorinis upon a small cliff, looking out over the Storm Peaks and the raging storms that dotted the land by namesake. The wind did not bite at him as before, but still brushed against him with a cold to make Ragnaros himself shiver it seemed. His eyes scanned the skyline, looking for anything of difference, but could find nothing. Lost, he turned his gaze upon Skoll and waited.

“How many storms do you see?” Skoll spoke finally, looking down at the Elf.

“They all seem to be nearly as one from where I stand.”

“I know your eyes are better than that, look harder and do not try my patience with your stupidity.”

Alorinis nodded, casting his vision outward and to the birds of the landscape, looking down upon the storms from their point of view. He could see the varying circles that contained the biting winds and harsh lightning, as they moved about the landscape.

“Five.” Alorinis replied after bringing his sight back to himself.

“And how many storms were here yesterday?”

“I can not see the past.”

“There were seven. Where do you think the other two are now?”

“They are finished, they no longer exist.”

“Wrong.”

Alorinis blinked, looking up at Skoll curiously before speaking, “They have merged with the other storms?”

“Wrong.”

“Then what?”

“They are still out there. Waiting silently to start again their fury and display their power. The storms are tempered and awaiting the proper time, for they have played their first power out, and may not wait. They move about the land, silent and unbeknownst to the people who will walk it. Blending in with the air you all so enjoy.” Skoll said in answer, looking back down at Alorinis.

Alorinis remained silent, pondering over the words in his head, and staring forward at the storms as they raged across the skyline.

“She will calm one day.”

“Yes, she will. Just as her father, and her father’s father, and all of the line before her. You must recognize your part in her life, and where you are best to serve as mate.”

Alorinis looked up at the powerful creature, quirking his inquisitive brow. “I do not recognize it clearly then.”

“No, you do not, for you are foolish in your wisdom. Dellingr will stand by her and feed her storm, helping her manage her power and self until she is ready to bend the storm to silence. You must help her by watching.”

“Watching? I am to just watch her from the sides until she comes to a silent storm?”

“No. You are to watch her and keep her safe from death. As Dellingr feeds the storm, you must ensure the storm does not consume itself. By your existence, you must be patient, you must watch her make mistakes, and let her be foolish at times. With these failures she will learn and temper herself, and become as the silent storm. Then, and only then, will she be the woman you see in her. Then, and only when she finds it herself, will she be truly happy.”

“So, I am to watch and keep her from death, but guide no more?”

“Unless she seeks it of you. Just as you come before me for counsel for my greater understanding, so too will she come to you for counsel at times. Be ready and patient, Stormwatcher.”

“Stormwatcher?”

“It is the name of mates whose mates bear great power with the storm. They are loyal and fierce, watching their mate as they temper their power, but keeping any death far from them. She bears great power of the storm, from Dellingr and from within, and she must be watched. But take heed, Elf. You are not to curb or collar her, you must wait for her to come before you and seek more control. Until such a time, you must let her run as free as she wishes, or the storm within her will never learn its silence.”

Alorinis nodded, taking in the information and expanding it within his mind. He grew to understand his course, and hoped his stubborn mind would be able to accept it as it was. He wanted deeply to help Eleneill and be what she needed, and in turn hoped she would be what he needed. If anyone would know how to do that, it would be Skoll, of course.

“Thank you, Alpha of the northern storm. Your counsel shall guide me to a happiness we have not seen before.”

“Do not take my words to mean you to be her slave, Elf.” Skoll spoke quietly, glancing down at him.

“I am no slave, but nor am I to restrict her.”

“Just because she is free, does not mean she is wild by proper. At times a storm can grow too fierce and must be reigned in, a Stormwatcher must ensure the storm does not consume itself.”

“I do not follow.”

“Idiot,” Skoll sighed, shaking his muzzle. “Set some standards, but ones that are truly to the benefit of your family. Not just yourself or her future self.”

“I understand,” Alorinis spoke as he nodded, staring down at the ground in thought.

“Good,” Skoll said before letting out a great howl that split the night sky and shook the mountain on which they stood.

Alorinis looked up at the beast with curiosity, blinking in shock as he looked around quickly. Turning to the tunnel, Alorinis caught a glimpse of the blue arc that heralded a stormwolf’s approach. Skoll’s mate came forward, bearing something in its maw. As she came closer, Alorinis could begin to make out the item. It was large, mostly white but with strips of leather along the edge, a blue light surging in the center. As she came closer and sat before the two, Alorinis could see the item for what it was, a fang broken at its center. In confusion, a common expression for him this day it seemed, Alorinis looked up to Skoll and awaited explanation.

“When I was young, and the storm was just being born, I shattered one of my fangs striking against a mountain I could not match yet. Since then I have kept it as a reminder of the importance of knowing the extend of what I could do.” Skoll looked down to Alorinis, nudging him forward with a harsh shove of his paw. “You will now bear it, in my blessing, in order to remind your Mate of the same, and to protect her from herself. It will draw upon the same power she does, and can be used to handle it best.”

Alorinis nodded, reaching out slowly to grasp the roots bound by the leather strips, but stopped at the sound of Skoll’s voice again.

“But, take heed, Elf. If you ever use it against her without purpose of what I have said, I will personally ride the storms to you and consume you whole so you may burn within my stomach for days.”

Alorinis nodded in silence to Skoll, grasping his hand around the root-made hilt and lifting it from the female’s maw. He could feel the power of the raw lightning within it, coursing across the bone and through his arm, burning his senses to hold for too long. Looking back to Skoll to once again give thanks, Alorinis only found the speedy approach of the lupine tail, aimed directly at his chest. The fur and muscle crashed into him, thankful for his armor at the moment, and flying off the cliff to sail towards the ground.

“Your counsel is over, begone. I will send for your mate,” Skoll laughed as he watched Alorinis plummet into the snow below, before turning to enter back in his cave.

Alorinis flew to the ground, spreading himself out as best he could to lessen the impact, but his vision blurred as consciousness was stolen from him with each foot he fell. The cold, the thin air, and the impact of the tail waned his power to think, his hand still grasped around the Skollfang, but losing focus as he went down. The last impression he felt was the snow rushing up around him, covering his body in a wave of cold.

E-E-Ele…..E…