Server:Moon Guard US/Saphairia
From WoWWiki
General Information
- Full Name: Saphairia Whitemoon
- Age: 3979
- Birthday: January 24th
- Birthplace: Astraanar
- Sex: Female
- Class: Druid (Feral)
- Family: Pelturas Whitemoon (Father), Reshana (Mother), Relara (Sister)
- Heritage: Half Kaldorei (father), half demon (mother)
- Affiliations: Cenarion Circle, Darnassus Sentinels
The Diary of Saphairia Whitemoon
January 24th
My 758th Birthday
Although I insisted that my birthday be kept quiet as it always used to be, much to my dismay, my sister Relara has alerted half the town. People have been knocking all day long with little treats and gifts. I can’t stand the attention and the whole house stinks of flowers from the decorations. I must admit Relara did do quite a good job. I’ll let her have her fun; she’s over 200 yet still a child. It’s hard to imagine her growing up. My Father, Pelturas, and Relara gave me this journal, Mother is nowhere in sight. She left with those warlocks last night and still hasn’t returned. I can’t be bothered to try and get myself to worry about her. I honestly do not care.
January 27th
Reshana, my Mother is back home. She brought those warlocks with her. They’re all dressed in black and red, with dark, greasy hair. Two males and a female, she’s the worst. Every time I look at her she grins at me as if teasing me about something. I have no idea what. She’s always staring at me, speaking to the others out of the corner of her mouth. Mother made me bring them food. As if it wasn’t bad enough that they were sitting in our kitchen! They didn’t even eat. Not one bite. They just stared at Relara as she rambled about nonsense and the nightsaber she saw in the woods the other day. That stupid little imp was growling in the corner and muttering. I could hardly stand it. I hate demons, disgusting creatures. No wonder Father is staying in his study.
November 15th
It has been many years since I have written in this journal. Relara has fallen ill, sick one day and practically comatose the next. Her eyes have closed and I fear for her life. Father is doing the best he can but soon we are going to have to call for a more experienced priest. I have taken time off my sentinel duties and they are becoming annoyed with me. I do not care.
November 18th
The priest isn’t helping. The Barren’s corruption is causing the sickness and supposedly some demons are wreaking havoc up the river. There isn’t much we can do but wait.
October 2nd
I have decided to take up alchemy. Perhaps it could aid in my sister’s disease. She awoke briefly the other day when a human brought her a potion. Elune’s tears were in it I believe. I have also visited the local druid. I asked him if he could cure her and of course his answer was no. I was thinking that maybe I could be a druid one day. I told him and, needless to say, he was furious, screaming about tradition and all that nonsense. I could barely hold back my laughter.
October 28th
I have been reading through my Father’s books on druidic magic. The runes are difficult and squirm when I read them, but Father trained me well. He once told me that when you are with a stronger book to be careful, because they may become the ones reading you. I know exactly what he means now and this one is trying extremely hard. The more I learn, the more I believe that this magic could help control the Barren’s corruption and save my sister. I am becoming more determined to master their magic.
October 31st
There is a strange man in town. Everyone has been talking. He’s a demon hunter I’ve heard. His eyes have been gouged out yet he still seems to see. It unnerves me greatly. Father and I were in the restaurant down the road when he came in. The whole room was instantly quiet and everyone stared. I almost felt sorry for him. I probably would have if he had not approached our table. He walked right up, looming over me, and drew his dagger, it was glowing red. I could hear my heart echoing in my ears and I didn’t understand why a glow would panic me so much. Before I knew what was happening I was thrown to the floor and my Father was facing the demon hunter, an energy field was flowing from his palms. I had never seen my Father in action before, let alone perform holy magic. Father had pushed me down as the demon hunter had lunged at me, I was shaking. A few of the sentinels dragged the hunter out; he was screaming about demons and glaring at me furiously the whole time. It was so strange.
November 1st
I am a demon. I cannot believe it. To find out what I hate the most is what I am. How could Father keep this from me for so long? Mother is a succubus. It certainly explains a lot about her. . . Disgusting! Father has assured me that everything will be fine but I am beginning to question myself.
November 2nd
The demon hunter has committed ‘suicide’. He punched and kicked himself then repeatedly stabbed himself in the stomach and tied himself to a rock on the bottom of the lake. Of course I know that Father has really committed murder, but that is the story he told me, with a huge grin on his face. I am still disgusted beyond belief at my demon blood. I don’t like to think about it.
January 30th
My birthday has come and gone like any other day with Relara still asleep. I miss her zeal. 1497-I’m getting older. . . I walked downstairs to talk to Father; he was studying his books again. Before I even said a word about druidic magic he said it would never work and that I shouldn’t bother trying. I hate it when he reads me like one of his books. I insisted that I do try, for Relara’s sake if nothing else. He got a bit mad and snapped that usual ‘tradition’ nonsense at me. I could tell he was ashamed of himself. But I’m going to Darnassus to learn. I’ll teach myself if I have to. I laid a sack on my bed and began stuffing it with as many mystical looking things as I possibly could. Herbs, idols, talismans, books, vials, anything that would make me look as if I had some kind of grasp of magical power, pathetic I know.
February 3rd
I left for Darnassus today with my sack and staff, it is technically my Father’s but I doubt he will notice its absence. I jumped out my window and started down the road, closing my eyes as the familiar cobblestones guided me through the thin soles of my sandals. Something slammed into me. My vision was blurred and I moaned. A man leaned over me, apologizing and asking if I was alright. He had light blue hair and his features were sharp, yet kind. He wore green druidic robes and a red snake was wrapped around his arm, Maurik he called it. We introduced ourselves. He was Tillian Softheart, druid of the Fang. He pulled me up and said he ought to return me to my male, that he would be missing my ‘beautiful eyes’. I could feel the blush creep up from my feet and my cheeks burned. I told him that I had no male and asked why he mocked me. He gave me a fake hurt look. “Mock you?” He said, “Never, I am merely pursuing your heart.” I asked if he always said things like that, he laughed and said I was the first. He kissed me on the cheek. He kissed me! I had hardly even met him! I should have probably slapped him but for some reason I didn’t. I told him I was going to Darnassus to try and become a druid. I expected him to burst into laughter but he didn’t. He said we could make an arrangement, in secret of course, and that I had everything the trainers looked for, he could see it in my eyes. “Eyes are windows to a person’s soul” he said. I have practically memorized our conversation. I returned home and acted as if nothing had happened. That night I snuck out and met Tillian at the moss cave, we simply meditated. I loved it, being right next to him, listening to his breathing. It was amazing. I have never felt like this before. I would lie down and die for him and I met him only a few hours ago.
April 15th
I am still continuing my lessons with Tillian and I am getting much better at the magic. I cannot turn into a snake like he can, the most I have managed is to produce scales upon my skin and turn my eyes to gold, but that’s after 15 minutes of meditation at the least. He’s started to teach me other transformation. Hopefully I will be able to turn into a cat soon if all goes to plan. He is an amazing teacher. I think I love him, he has told me he loves me and I can’t stop myself from feeling the same way. . .
September 20th
It has been over 200 years since I last wrote in this journal, but it only seems like a few weeks. Tillian and I have just returned from out trip to the Wailing Caverns to see Naralex, the leader of the druids of the Fang. Naralex and Tillian are old friends. Tillian was showing off all he taught me, even my scales, Naralex was amazed. Tillian and I shared a small room upstairs, he made me wear my clothes to bed, he’s very old-fashioned that way, though I suppose the kissing makes up for it. My parents believe I am in Darnassus and they are still unaware of my lessons and relationship with Tillian Softheart.
August 30th
My lessons are continuing with Tillian. I can now cover my whole body with scales in about five minutes but I still cannot change completely. Since I haven’t by now, I don’t think I ever will. Tillian has been staying outside my window on the roof, watching me as I sleep every night.
December 3rd
I had known Tillian for 506 years – not one fight. I should have known it was too good to be true. People like me don’t deserve such a good fate. I went to the cave as usual tonight and he greeted me with a passionate kiss, saying he had found a way for me to repay him for his services. I raised my eyebrows. He got down on one knee and raised a diamond ring to my finger, slipping it on and shouted “Marry me!”
I squealed “Yes,” elated, kissing him again, my lips following his wistfully.
My name was snapped at me by the voice I hated most. I stared at the silhouette at the entrance of the cave in horror, hissing, “Mother.”
“You want his heart is that it?” Reshana, my Mother growled, I can still hear her voice echoing in the cave, “You can have his heart. Right. Now.” An orb of demonic energy appeared in her hand and she hurled it at Tillian, hitting him in the chest and knocking him into the cool rock, instantly silencing his short gasp. His body slumped limply and lay still. I screamed and tried to run to his crumpled body but I was caught by my Mother’s hand at the back of my neck. She yanked me by my hair and threw me to the wet ground outside the cave.
“You want to be a druid? Is that it?!” She glared at me.
“I am a druid!” I snapped furiously.
She grabbed me by my throat and glared, “You think so? If they knew what you really were they would kill you.” She grinned, stroking my cheek with her hand in a demonic aura, gently at first, then more viciously, eventually digging a sharpened nail deep into my flesh, drawing blood. I could not control my howls of pain and anguish, my neck whipping back as my cries echoed through the forest. If she only would have killed me. . .
I heard my Father’s voice as if it was through cotton, the pain and heartbreak holding my mind, “Reshana! For Goddess’ sake stop it!” He pounced on top of her and pinned her to the ground, “Control yourself!”
The demonic aura around her faded and she grinned, “Get off me.”
My Father took a few steps back hesitantly and watched her leave, a serene look on her face. I pushed myself away from the tree, blood and tears on my face; I collapsed onto Tillian’s still chest. The cave was filled with strange wailing sounds and sobs; it took me a while to realize that it was me. Father rested his hand on my shoulder but I slapped it away, screaming at him that he should have, could have done something. He was too calm, explaining there was nothing he could do, even if he wanted to, he could not fight my Mother.
I screamed in frustration, “I’m going home and then I’m leaving. I don’t know where to. . . But I’ll make sure it’s far away from you!” I pulled a necklace from Tillian’s neck and pushed past my Father.
I gathered my belongings and snatched a letter from my bed, in my Mother’s handwriting, I muttered, “Returning home. What the hell is that supposed to mean?” A small ring fell out from it and I tucked it into my pocket, I don’t know why. It was my Mother’s demon band. I am leaving for the Eastern Kingdoms. Clutching my stomach as if literally trying to hold myself together, I feel like there is some massive hole within me. Tillian dragged my heart along with him when he died. I can barely stand without it. Now it’s too late to take it back.
January 6th
In the Arathi Highlands today I sighted a large raptor, too large for me to take on my own. Readying myself for battle, tensing my muscles and weapon-less hands. I took a step forward, then stopped, confused. Tillian was talking to me. Begging me to stop, then yelling at me, scolding me for being stupid as I lunged forward into the fight. His voice pleased me, even if it was furious, even if it was only in my mind. The next thing I knew the raptor was dead at my feet and my hands were covered in blood. I must have been pretty hurt judging by the looks people gave me but I did not care. As quickly as it had come, the voice was gone.
February
Silent. Trying to numb the pain. I have seen that snake, Maurik, following me.
May
Fighting recklessly, as many things as I can. Hoping maybe one of them will kill me. The voice stays by me although its owner it dead. Wondering if I’ve gone insane. Clinging to the numbness.
July 7th
Westfall. I stood at the top of a cliff at the end of a long hill. The wind caused my hair to whip against my face. Stared over the edge. Watched the waves pummel the rocks, a tempest was stirring. I waited patiently for the voice, but it did not come. I was not in any danger. I flung myself over the edge. The water stung me and I found myself instantly sinking. The waves pressed my body against the rocks, air escaped my lungs. The voice came, it told me not to give up, to fight. But I don’t. I didn’t even know which way was up anymore and the water had grown darker from the storm. Suddenly something slammed into my chest; it felt like a huge iron rod. It pulled on me and I clawed at it, it seemed to tighten around me, strangely cold. The waves and the bar pinned me down. Tillian seemed so close. He was still screaming at me to fight. I responded to him with my thoughts: Goodbye. I love you. A sharp pain caused me to scream silently as my head slammed into a rock. Everything went silent. Everything went black.
My eyes fluttered open; it was dark and had stopped raining. I wondered if I was dead until I tried to move and pain shot through my body. Dead would be an improvement. Dried blood covered my forehead, my hair was stained red. Bruises everywhere. I turned onto my side and coughed up a mixture of blood and water. A human came to my side, soaking wet, he scrutinized me and frowned, behind him another man and a woman sat by a fire, talking. The woman looked up and nodded, responding to an unspoken command. She approached me and pressed her fingers to my forehead,the nails were long and filthy, her eyes glowed a fierce orange, I was too weak to talk or object and I was forced into unconsciousness.
July 9th
The man that rescued me is called Hydras, the woman is Ellanya and the other man is Emmett. Ella and Emmett are, brother and sister I suppose, though not related by blood.All of them are members of the Scourge and the Cult of the Damned, but very kind. They have accepted me into their ranks. The ceremony was horrible. My whole life flashed before my eyes, all the pain I ever felt again. I was in tears for hours; Hydras and Emmett were at my side, comforting me the whole time, but Ella just rolled her eyes and left the room. The numbness has returned now and I am fine. The ceremony joined me to their minds and we can see each other’s thoughts. It’s a bit strange, having no secrets, but Hydras says I will get used to it. They go for days without a word, silently communicating in the havens of their minds. I have a new nickname: Lady Shadow. I like it, but Emmett insists on his calling me “cliff-jumper” he makes me laugh.
August 23rd
Hydras offered me a binding ceremony. That would mean when I. . . died, I would become one of them. Undead. Or I could become one now, and they could kill me. To be honest it scares me. Terrifies me. Ella says that I shouldn’t be trusted; she started screaming at me that I thought I was too good for them. Hydras was furious. He struck her across the face. Now she has a new name for me: Hydras’ Shadow. We all know she likes him, she is simply jealous and I won’t let it bother me. Anyways, I chickened out, I couldn’t do it. I’m the only one who isn’t either bound or undead and Hydras seems to be the only one who is fine with that.
February 8th
Something happened last night. Hydras is more than upset. Furious. He has told me to stay away from Ella. He said some unmentionable things about her.
February 9th
Hydras finally told me what happened. Ella tried to kill me in my sleep. I don’t understand. He says she is jealous, but I already knew that. He said 'her kind' doesn't tend to like demons very much. Hydras says he is going to be watching me now. A bit scary, an undead man watching me sleep, but I hardly notice he is there.
January 1st
I cannot stay here anymore. This Damned Cult is causing me to lose control. I killed Emmett today. . . He kissed me. Instead of getting angry and slapping him as I would have done, I kissed him back, eventually digging my nails into his throat and choking him to death. For the first time in my life I felt that I was truly a demon. He was bound so Hydras assured me that he would be fine once he woke up, undead but fine. Or perhaps they will be able to heal him. Hydras asked me to stay, but I can’t. This isn’t what I want to become. I’ve killed so many people in my time with them and all they do is encourage me. If I do not stop I fear I will lose myself completely. Not that it will make any difference in the judgment of my soul. I am damned because I am a demon. That is all I will ever be. I may try to fight it. But I still know the truth. It showed itself to me very clearly today. I leave for Goldshire tonight, I said my goodbyes and to tell Emmett I said sorry when he wakes up. It’s my last night at the sanctuary of the Damned Cult.
August 1st
I rented a room at the inn, it is small compared to the sanctuary, but it is warm, and that is good enough for me. I have been working my hardest and I have not killed a person yet. I am distracted, but not in the way I was hoping for. I came across a scent today, sweet and enticing, and nearly forgot everything I was here for. If I had known such a saccharine blood existed, I would have left hunting for it long ago. Like a fool, I followed it. It lead me downstairs to a chair by the bar. A paladin was sitting in it, the scent was almost unbearable, perhaps he looked up at me, but I could not see his eyes behind his helm, I could not see the veins in his neck either, and for that I was grateful. I sat in a chair on the opposite side of the room and watched him, digging my fingernails into my knees and drawing blood to try and distract myself. Nonetheless I thought of all the ways I could kill him, spill the blood, I no longer wanted to try and control myself, I just wanted to lose control. I found myself counting witnesses, mostly they were frail, they would not be hard to kill. I could kill the paladin first and then kill the rest as quickly as I could. It would be quick, he would barely have time to scream, the others would not know what was happening before it was too late. But his blood could get cold. Witnesses first then. I could swear he was grinning at me. Grinning madly. Mocking me. Perhaps he knew the effect he had on me. Perhaps he knew and was trying to demolish this façade of mine that I had so desperately tried to carve over the past weeks. Who was this man that he could destroy my one chance? He was not that special! He was just a man, a paladin, worse than a man. He was nothing. Nothing! I would not let him chase me out of this town. It was my one chance and he would not ruin it! The air shifted and more of the scent battered my senses. Perhaps I protested aloud, I felt people staring at me and quickly made my way out of the inn. I slept in the forest.
August 12th
I asked around about the paladin today, his name is Lethan; he is working as a guard here. No one that I have asked knows much about him, I wish they did, it might help me resist the urge to kill him, and just the name helps a bit. He is not some senseless being that has been put there to kill, he has a name. But he is a paladin, I hate paladins. I am trying my best, but I still must keep my distance and regulate my breathing.
August 14th
Today I believe I have finally found something to distract me. A man was in one of the rooms of the inn, rambling on to himself and pacing. I asked if something was the matter and he snapped at me to mind my own business. His eyes were black, like mine became when I lost control. There is a medallion around his neck and, I cannot place it now, but I really, really do not like it. Perhaps it is something for power, like my demon band. If this demon has learned to live among people then why not me? Maybe he will teach me.
August 16th
I am a bit disappointed. The boy I came across the other day is not a demon, merely a puppet to one. His name is Rethel. I know I could never possibly redeem myself but I don’t see what harm would come if I do a little good. I will help him, I think I can. I suppose I have experience with myself so why not with full demons?
December 29th
It has been a few months since I last wrote. Rethel’s demon, Luicus, is no longer using him as a puppet. Rethel has become a very good friend of mine. I laugh at my past entries about Lethan; perhaps I should rip them out. I have much more self control now. He has helped me so much and I do absolutely nothing to deserve it. He even removed the scar from my cheek, and that is the least of it. A half-demon in love with a paladin… ironic if you ask me. And Lethan actually tolerates me, does more than that even, he acts as if he enjoys my company. It worries me, I was in a horrid mood today and he did not leave my side as he should of. I must not forget that he is my singer. I am concerned that perhaps I have some effect on him, that my demon blood is somehow manipulating him. By the end of the day Lethan had calmed me as he always does, but still, a paladin should not be listening to a half-demon mutter that she is going to kill people because they are infuriating her and not do anything about it.
December 31st
The Rose Cadavers were fighting again in the inn today, Rethel got himself stabbed and once again, I was left to clean up the mess. However, Lethan was wounded. Of course it was my fault, someone brought up when Salty (the leader of the Roses) tortured Rethel and I got mad. Lethan was present for my rant and next thing I knew he was suddenly Mr. Righteous Paladin. I saw his blood and could do nothing but flee. The thoughts that went through my mind are too cruel and wretched for me to record. I bound myself in thorny roots to a tree and stayed there until my mind was cleared. Then I headed for Stormwind, hoping the scents would distract me. They did no such thing and I was forced to drain about three bottles of Crippling Poison. I awoke and there he was, by my side for no reason whatsoever. Sylestor, a demon hunter with whom I have had many mishaps, was also present, they were arguing about him killing me but I was barely listening. As I stood next to Lethan I thought about his neck, the jagged, striking contours of his face. I thought about his silken black hair in my fingers, I thought about how I could yank him forward to kill him. I thought about his perfect, profound eyes, fading as death took him. And most of all I thought about his blood, red and angelic, his heart, thrashing within the cage of ribs that imprisoned it. I thought about it, thought about him, being mine for the taking. I closed my eyes and shuddered, becoming enveloped in my thoughts and his dreamy scent. When I opened my eyes again much had changed, Sylestor has been under the control of the warlock Luicus, Rethel’s demon, and had been freed. He is a demon, full demon, unlike myself and made a deal with us. Luicus’ head for my life. Needless to say we agreed to it. It will be a bit of fun. Luicus is Rethel's uncle and the only family he has left, of course I would never kill him.
January 3rd
The things that that demon Sylestor said are beginning to grow on me. That Lethan is only using me, using me like some warlock. That I am nothing more than a demon to him and, more than anything else: that he believes that he could control me. He could never control me! Why the hell should he want to? I am so confused but I fear, in my deepest thoughts, that I know Sylestor is right.
January 4th
I am terrified that I am losing myself, if that happens I can be nowhere near Lethan. I must leave. Lie to him that I do not love him although I do with all my heart. I do not want to leave which is exactly why I must.
January 24th
I don’t know what to do with myself. Lethan is gone. It all happened so fast. His darker half engulfed him and he lost himself. I cannot bear it. I cannot think about it. I cannot hear his name without feeling an incredible pang of guilt and anguish. There is a time in every life where giving up seems like the only way. That time, for me, was today. I became a full demon. Luicus, of all people, preformed a summoning ritual after he killed me.
I long for the sweet words that once told me that this isn’t who I am, the ones that told me to fight this urge to kill, but none come. There is only silence.
Salty asked if I was so gloomy because of ‘issues’ with my male. I think it was the biggest understatement in all of the history of Azeroth. I would have been fine if Rethel had not pestered me about it, I hurt the poor boy… again.
I would do anything just to see Lethan again, to hear him again. His scent still lingers here but it has faded and every day the air shifts, carrying it further from me. I have tried so hard to make myself numb but the closest to it I have achieved is anger. At least it gets rid of my torment, temporarily. I’ve tried so hard to tell myself that he is gone but I still cannot accept it. I swear I can still feel him.
January 26th
Something strange happened with that rogue who I have been trying to kill over the past week. I could have sworn that I saw his eyes flash blue for just a second. If I am taking the plunge into insanity then so be it. I hope to embrace and enjoy it. If this is insanity it is worth it.
January 27th
Hah! So it is insanity! His voice seems to be triggered by pain. I have gouged a large cut down my arm that had better keep him talking! I plan to enjoy every single moment of it! I sat at our place by the river for a full three hours today. First I was crying but the next thing I knew I was laughing, cackling even.
February 1st
It is probably wrong for one to believe that there can be any limit to the pain of which the mind can experience. However it seems that as the darkness falls deeper and deeper, although I hate to admit it, eventually the mind supports the idea that when the nightmare grows black enough, pain spawns pain. One coincidental evoking of pain begets another which is often a more deliberate act until finally, blackness seems to cover everything. Perhaps the most terrifying question is just how much pain the mind can stand whilst maintaining sanity. At some point it all starts to seem rather funny. This is the point at which sanity either begins to save itself or completely collapse.
February 3rd
Suddenly things seem very clear to me. Since I cannot bring him back I must go to him, whether that be in death I do not know. I am going to seek counsel from my mother. Though I hate her she ought to help. A long time ago she promised she would help me in any way possible if I should ever chose to become a full demon and as I have become one she has no excuse not to aid me. I will take the plunge to the Dark Below as soon as it is possible.
February 16th
I finally arrived back home today although, thanks to my mother, it is a bit different. Lethan is here but he does not remember a thing about me. To be frank, I think he wants to strangle me. I was following him around all day and now I feel as if an elekk has run over me. I was already so exhausted from my week in the Dark Below with my mother’s ‘endurance training’ which basically consisted of torture. Since when is cutting someone’s finger open and tugging on the tendon and asking her not to scream endurance training?! I could not help myself, I kissed him but he pushed me away and yelled at me, he said he was through with that worthless emotion. Ah, so that damned sword is still in existence here. Although we traveled to the Scarlet Monastery later he was still in a horrible mood for the next few hours. Lethan called me a demon for the first time in my life. I must admit I was hurt. He is pushing me too far; I can’t take this from him. I would have preferred it if he had stabbed me.