• Tranquillien. A town that almost lived up to its name, were it not for its proximity to the remaining scar of the blow dealt against Quel’Thalas, and the affluence of young, slightly inexperienced but highly valuable volunteers that wished to help on the fight against the Scourge that plague those lands.

    Shivus was one such volunteer, albeit not considering himself as such. He knew that there were rewards to reap for the “favours” he did.

    But the town right now, at these late hours of the night, really lived up to its name. the adventurers slept in makeshift beds inside the ruined inn, or returned to the warm luxury of Silvermoon for the night.

    Shivus sat at the upper floor of the inn, his legs dangling off the ledge, high above the ground as enjoyed the peace. Troubling thoughts plagued his mind. His best friend’s disappearance, Loreo, the righteous Blood Knight, the Scourge, his family, thorn apart by the lust for power and destroyed by the Scourge.

    Shivus’ ears perked up as he heard two Blood Elves down at the central square, holding each other, leaning against the golden stone statue. The young mage peered closer. The night had a clear full moon and one of them, a Warlock, held a light source in his hand, an orb, glowing an eerie purple. The other, if Shivus judged his attire correctly, was a Magister, whose name Shivus remembered as being Darenis. They were conversing, or so Shivus thought, until a kiss was shared. The action, although seemingly tender and loving, caused a great rage in the young Mage.

    His family had been divided like this. His father, a Warlock too, had sought power in the sinful company of a Magister, much like the young Warlock at the statue.

    Love wasn’t a part of these endeavours.

    Lust and power, the corruption of his people. Shivus remembered the devastation that overcame his mother when she found out she had been cheated. His father hadn’t even felt guilty. He had coldly packed and left their house in Fairbreeze Village to go live with his so called lover in Silvermoon. That had been 6 years ago. One year later, the Scourge came. Shivus, as he left the village with his mother, laughed when he saw his father being cut to pieces by a Nerubian, his Felguard lying dead a few meters in front of the Warlock’s fallen body, his Magister lover long dead, his body so thorn it was of no use to the Scourge. A proper faith for the unseen suffering they had caused Shivus’ mother… his beloved mother…

    Shivus’ thoughts trailed off. He couldn’t remember her, the horrible faith that had befallen her.

    Once more he came back to reality. The two Blood Elves had engaged in a thorough make out session, the purple orb now lit out to give them more privacy.

    Shivus let out a snarl as he got up, careful not to trip over his black and red apothecary robes. It was due time he went to sleep.

    That Magister would never see the manipulation. He was going to believe the Warlock’s love until the day the demon lover no longer needed him.

    Love is for the fools.