Calia continued to keep her eyes on the field as she spoke with Elsie. It
looked as though all those who remained were having positive
conversations with their loved ones. She heard laughter and saw
smiles. This is how it should be. The people of Lordaeron haven’t been
free to be who or what they wish to be. For this moment, they are.
There was Osric, talking to his friend Tomas. Over there, two sisters
were reunited. There was Ol’ Emma, whom Calia had healed, looking
ten years younger as she smiled at her children. And Parqual and
Philia were coming to join them. They spoke for a few moments; Calia
was too far away to hear what they said.
Parqual said something to his daughter, then headed alone toward
Calia. She felt a flicker of concern; he shouldn’t be approaching her
like this. No one was supposed to know that she and Parqual knew
each other. Loudly, he said, “Priestess…may this Forsaken have your
blessing?”
“Of course,” she replied.
He bent his head, whispering to her, “We need you now. It’s time.”
“Wh-what?”
“You’ll see. Be ready.”
Calia steadied herself and called for the Light’s blessing. It came,
bathing him in its warm, gold-white glow. Parqual grimaced; the Holy
Light healed Forsaken, but it was not pleasant for them. With a nod of
appreciation, he turned and rejoined the group. She watched them,
alert now. For a while, they simply chatted. And then, too casually,
Philia and Parqual walked away from the Felstones. After a moment,
the Felstone family, too, began to walk. Slowly and indirectly, so as not
to attract too much attention, they were moving from the center of the
field toward Stromgarde Keep.
Saa’ra’s words rushed back to Calia so swiftly that she staggered.
There are things you must do before that peace will be granted to
you. Things that you must understand, that you must integrate into
yourself. People who need your help. What one needs in order to heal
will always come one’s way, but sometimes it is hard to recognize it.
Sometimes, the most beautiful and important gifts come wrapped in
pain and blood.
Was this the moment she had been thinking of ever since she had
found her way to the Netherlight Temple and Archbishop Faol? So
much had fallen into place so perfectly: the Desolate Council, Anduin’s
noble call for this gathering. And now, spontaneously, human and
Forsaken had taken a step so courageous that Calia felt both inspired
and ashamed.
Yes. Parqual was right.
It was time.
She whirled toward Elsie, her hood falling off with her movement.
“Elsie, there’s something you must know. And I pray to the Light that
has sent me here this day that you will understand—and support it.”
She swallowed hard. “Support…me.”