The Runaway

It was her birthday.

Tazeria lay awake in the warm, small bed inside the Stormwind Orphanage,

having yet to open her eyes to the still dark, pre-dawn room.

A slight ruffle of movement from the bed next to hers slowly roused her

eyelids open. Her sister, Taneria, lay sleeping peacefully for the first time

in the six weeks since they had come to the Home.

A tinge of guilt washed over Tazeria with sharp clarity, instantly clearing away any sleepiness that remained in her brain. 

She sat up and reached to open the small drawer of the bedside stand where she had placed the seven sealed letters the night before. Each envelope bore a name penned in her hand; she thumbed through the short stack and found the one addressed to Taneria, removed it, and quietly leaned over to the adjourning bed to slip it beneath the sleeping elflings pillow.

As Tazeria gazed at her sleeping sister, hot tears burned at the back of her eyes and she fought them with all she could muster. “There will be no tears,” she thought…. her mind was made up. She leaned over and brushed a light kiss on Tan’s forehead and tucked the white flannel blanket snugly around her sleeping sibling.

Quietly, Tazeria made her way across the room to the armoire where she kept her things. She carefully opened the door to the cabinet minding that the small, metal hinges didn’t squeak. The elfling had always been good at sneaking around and often had breakfast made and ready for the family without ever waking a single person.

Her hand found her knapsack, which she had already packed full the night before, after everyone had gone to bed. She slide her feet into knee high black leather boots then pulled the black leather wrap from the last peg inside the wardrobe and slide her arms inside the cozy fur lining; then pulled the leather straps tight around her waist.

Arturok had made the wrap and matching boots for Tazeria as her birthday present, but gave them to her a week ago. Art had never been one to wait to give a gift, always seeming more excited and eager to see the response from the recipient than to bother with keeping to a date.

Taz closed the door soundlessly and crept from the room, silently stepping down the wide staircase, in to the Centeroom. Treading softly, she came to the thin wooden door that led to the kitchen. The kitchen was dark with the exception of a few smoldering, red embers peeking beneath some gray covered ash in the hearth.

There was a bowl of winter apples in the middle of the large butcher-block counter, of which she took four and stuffed them in a small-knotted sack. Half a dozen left over biscuits from dinner the previous night, followed the fruit in to the bag. She crossed a few steps to the icebox at the other side of the room and opened it. Peering inside she wrinkled her nose, “ Brie,” she thought, “what is it with these humans and cheese?”

Searching through the cheese Tazeria placed several hunks of Alterac Swiss into the bag, then turned to the pantry to remove some dried sagefish and placed that in the sack along with the other food items.

“ There- that should hold me for a day or two.” She thought with satisfaction, wiping her hands on a small kitchen rag that had been hung near the pantry. Taz stood and turned and as she did, a low POP! Made her jump back a step.

“Balyon!” she startled in a shocked, harsh whisper as her young warlock friend materialized before her, his blue robe swishing the floor.

Grinning at her with wicked in his eyes, with a barely audible chuckle, he whispered,

“The eye misses nothing Tazzy. I’ve been watching you for the last 10 minutes.’ Bal chuckled again. “Where, exactly, do you think you’re off to this early in the morning? Oh and Happy Birthday, this is for you.” He offered her a small blue-ribboned box held in his hands, which she eyed carefully, then accepted.

“Thanks Bal.” she said as she shook the box next to her pointy ear.” and. (her eyes shifted to the floor) -I’m going for a walk- since it seems you must know… and,’ she continued,

“You will most likely have that stupid eye thing following me about.’  She said indignantly as she flashed a small smile in Balyon’s direction.

Then, accusingly, Taz raised a thin eyebrow at him, “You must be a very bored stalker.” she teased with a light laugh.

“Really? Humm, well…” he eyed her suspiciously, “people who go for walks this early in the morning don’t take so much food or their belongings.” Bal said flatly, as he pointed at the knapsack near the door.

“OOOH” He suddenly mouthed excitedly, and with realization in his voice as his eyes found her stack of mail, “they also don’t leave a stack of letters on the counter.” He quickly snatched the pack of letters Tazeria had mistakenly set down on the countertop while she had been hunting for her food.

Taz panicked a little and felt the nerves under her skin come alert, Balyon’s face became serious and he pinned her with a glance. In a low whisper he stated

“If you don’t tell me where you’re going… I ..will… wake.. this.. house.”

He shoved the letters in his robe and quickly began to roll magic within his hands. There was a deep fire in his eyes that Taz knew meant that Balyon would unquestionably, carry out his threat.

At that precise moment another voice responded to that threat, “She’s running away Bal- can’t you see?” Startled, Taz spun to see Ito standing in the cellar doorway next to the hearth, his coat on his back, his fully stuffed knapsack slung low over his shoulder. His gaze, unreadable, raked her face

“What the blazes? Ito! Hush! I am NOT running away!” She menacingly growled in a low voice between gritted teeth. Tazeria’s face was hot with anger and shocked to find Ito standing before her.

Then at the very instant

“NO!’ Commanded another voice, in deep low whisper, from the doorway of the thin door behind Taz, that lead to the center room, Tazeria spun around yet again, to be met by the steady gaze of none other than Swill.

He locked his eyes to the nightelf’s, and stated the plain, simple truth, sinking his eyes into hers. “No” Swill repeated, lowly and calmly- taking one slow step toward her, ” I agree with you. You’re not running away, Tazeria….. You…. are running TO it.”

“Where, Tazeria”

–He spoke each word slowly-

“Where, exactly, are you planning to go?’  Swill’s piercing gaze never left Tazeria’s face.

Balyon didn’t know why that memory of that morning in the kitchen so very long ago came to his mind, just then, as he lowered his drake on the rock near the two commanders. He felt the air about him unsettle and shift, and a small, unidentifiable shiver coursed across his back.

Change was in the air, and his soul knew it, for the first time, Balyon thought he may perhaps, have to pray.