The Seeker Pt.I:II

This story follows the story of Sateal Emberheart following up to and during the Shattering
<-- Part I:I / Part I:III -->
==Chapter II==
Sateals leather boots padded against the puddle-ridden road of the Court of the Sun as it led down from the overshadowing presence of Sunfury Spire. The weather – some would argue – was perfect in Silvermoon, and all of northern Quel’thalas for that matter. As a result the city wasn’t built to filter the non-existent rainfall anywhere. Instead the water would be left to stagnate and drown the reeds wriggling through the cracks in the road for the remainder of the evening; only to be eventually evaporated by the sun as it rose early in the morning to warm the sterile-white stone city. Recently the weather had taken a turn for the worst; or, at least, the unpredictable. For now the elements blessed the disgruntled blood knight. There was a few minutes break in the torrential downpour. It seemed more than odd to him that the magisterium would deem such dismal weather appropriate for such a time of the year. He simply hoped that the homestead on Quel’danas did not suffer a flood.
''“Good evening Master Sunheart, may I have a moment of your time?” a woman garbed in marble-white robes folded her hands in front of herself and performed a polite bow. Sateal turned on his heels to face the woman, attempting to make it as clear on his face as possible that she may indeed have a moment of his time… although he won’t make it a pleasant experience for her. The woman had the dignified stance only a priestess could possess, and a warming, pleasant smile spread across her face. The glow of holy energies - unhinged and uncontrolled - emitting from her troubled the blood knight to the point of visible awkwardness and vocal abruptness.
''“Emberheart.” He grunted.
''“Emberheart?” She perked a pale eyebrow.
''“My name isn’t Sunheart.” He explained flatly. He knew all too well the plight of changing a last name after all these years, and made it clear with a furrow of the brow that he did not wish to proceed with the subject any further. She made no effort to conceal the crudity of Sateals conversational skills with her own diplomatic pleasantness. Her shoulders simply rose and fell as she let out a quiet sigh; there was a moment of silence.
'“I apologise if it is an inconvenience, but I have word from Mother Superior.”the priestess finally ended the silence. She dipped a small hand gracefully into her sleeve and presented a small rolled scroll bearing what Sateal recognised as the mark of the Aldor of Shattrath City; a small silver pendant lashed to the almost flawless parchment with leather bindings. Despite being faced with a large, somewhat unrefined and ill-tempered man she retained a neutral expression noticed by Sateal to be prominent in many Light-worshippers. Her face was plain, to put it simply, flawless as the stonework’s of Silvermoon, yet also just as unremarkable as a dull pebble or rock. She was likely an attractive woman in the eyes of some, this he knew, yet there was something more. The ashen hair, the almost-golden hued eyes which shone with almost fanatical devotion to her cause, they sang to him in remembrance of someone he once knew. He found it more than a little unnerving. The clouds above began to encroach upon the cold exchange of words passing between the two elves, making Sateal all the more adamant that he was going to make this as short a conversation as possible.
The priestess continued regardless “Mother superior welcomes you to Shattrath and she wanted me to inform you that any... past grievances will be no longer. A life is to be valued and not over looked by past transgressions. You are always welcome within Shattrath.” This brought an amused grin to the old blood knight’s lips. He initially didn’t intend to upset the Aldor around him whilst in Shattrath. Sadly, once they began asking him what his views on the Light were, his Sunfury blood knight training and conditioning got the better of him. Referring to the Light as a chained dog to be kicked and ordered about as he saw fit is understandably upsetting for any Light-worshipper who is willing to put themselves under the heels of alien creators resembling toys he used to buy for his juvenile children. He chortled at upon remembering how purple with rage some of the Dreanei became that day, and how many were used to ‘escort’ him from the premises swiftly and without hassle.
“She is quick to forgive, but I suppose she’s simply practicing what she preaches.” He arched an eyebrow at the priestess as she patted at the pale and sexless robes she swathed herself with in order to crudely iron out the wrinkles. It was typical for her and her kind to dress so. Far be it from the old veteran to comment on such a poor choice of clothing “I don’t care much for your priesthoods uniform” he stated, dryly.
The priestess simply stood there and stared at him, unable to rise to the comment, as her duty dictated. Her almost-golden eyes simply watched the mans features, which only served to make the old veteran more uncomfortable with the situation. He was always uncomfortable around Light-worshippers, and he could never quite put his finger upon why.
Her eyes weren’t particularly interesting in any way besides the hue. Her gaze wasn’t intense, nor was it unbearable. It was just incredibly unrelenting. She never broke eye contact, and blinked rarely. Sateal noticed such traits in the mana-drunken magisters dwelling within the spire now which loomed high and proud behind him. Yet she did not share the eccentric and erratic speech deterioration as the mana-drunkards, nor the hunched stance or drawn facial expression. No matter what she was, she continued to unnerve him, and continued to be blissfully unaware of the dark clouds looming overhead.
Sateal must have been staring at the woman in analytical silence for quite a rude amount of time, for he finally noticed she now bore a patient smile a mother bore to her dull-witted black-sheep of a child. A smile he was used to receiving from only one individual. He then flinched and snapped back into a straight-backed stance at the final realisation of who the woman reminded him of. Sadly, his epiphany was soon interrupted by the young woman “High Priestess Ishanah is a good woman” the priestess began “she hopes, and we all hope, that you will come to us when ever you are in need of a safe haven, and think of the Aldor rise as home.”
The dumb-founded blood knight blinked dully at the priestess “All of you?” She kept her patient smile and nodded “A budding child of the Light is always welcome within our company.”
“Tsh.” Sateal scoffed and clicked his tongue against the side of his cheek “I’m more of a Scryer, than anything, priestess. It’s unusual for any of the Aldor to take an interest in me, or any of us for that matter. Let alone the High Priestess herself. I was under the impression I was a lost cause in the eyes of the Light-worshippers. Never-the-less, thank you for the message.” He inclined his head towards the priestess “Safe travels.” As he passed her, offering her a firm pat upon the shoulder, a pat, perhaps, that was a mite too heavy for such a small woman, who buckled slightly under the unexpected gesture.
“Master Emberheart.” She looked over her shoulder at the blood knight, barely concealing a giggle, and held out the Aldor’s note bound in leather. In his haste to retreat from the scene he had neglected the purpose of the conversation, much to his chagrin.
"I have family in Tranquillien." she smiled, clearly reveling all-too-much in the Blood Knights embaressment "So perhaps we shall speak again before I return to Shattrath."
With that said, and Sateal finally retrieving his letter, they quickly parted way before they were caught in the storm.