A Final Lesson

Rhianon was perched on the edge of the dock at Moa’ki Harbor, her hooves tucked neatly beneath her and her head bowed in thought. The docks at Moa’ki bustled with adventurers waiting for the arrival of the turtle ferry and local fishermen casting their traps. Ordinarily, the commotion would have distracted the young shaman, but today, Rhianon was silent, her face shadowed. She had spent the morning attempting to pen a letter to Dacianna – failing miserably each time, her words falling flat. The feeling of being unable to explain herself and convey her thoughts rested uncomfortably with the draenei. Only a year or two ago, she had been constantly getting into trouble over her overactive tongue…and now, she found herself unable to compose a single letter.

Part of the problem was, of course, that she wasn’t sure what she wanted to say. The last time she had seen Dacianna, the paladin had been upset over the growing divisions between the Horde and Alliance forces. She couldn’t argue with Dacianna from a military stand-point; the truth was that only way to really have any chance at victory against the Scourge was to band together and put up a united front. A schism could squelch any hope of victory.

Yet, the intense outpourings of fear and anger that she had witnessed from both Dacianna and others over the past week worried Rhianon. Whether or not anything ever came of Varian’s blustering, such internal chaos could prove destabilizing and make them even more vulnerable to the Scourge armies. The shaman sighed and raised her head, casting her gaze out over the horizon. Perhaps it was too much to ask, expecting people to remain calm when their world was falling about their ears.

She looked down at the water again and for a moment, she thought she saw the reflection of a familiar face glistening on the waves’ surface. “I need some of his wisdom now,” Rhianon whispered. “Sage Nastah would have known exactly what to say. He would have been able to speak out and remind everyone what’s important– and he could have written this letter to Dacianna.” She frowned and kicked at the waves. “He’s not here though, is he? He can’t say anything now.”

The wind picked up, the waves crashing vigorously against the shore, and Rhianon, discouraged, dusted her kilt off and picked herself up off the dock. As she stood up, a gust of air whistled past her and for a brief moment, Rhianon heard a voice, a creaky old Broken’s voice, whispering in her ear.

But that’s why I taught you

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