Nestáron Dawnstrider
Nestáron’s thoughts and mind were in chaotic maelstrom; Fierce winds, wicked lightning and thunder, and large rock-sized rain pouring freely from the sky.
Pierced heart. Distant relations. Questions and Answers. Dark fueled red eyes. Joy. Comforting a priest but no connection. Passionate kisses. Contracting circle. Walls of Resistance. RAGE. Fading friends. Remorse.
Broken friendship, violated tenants. Futility of heart-felt words. Rejection. Pleasant sighs. Distance gap half-way bridged and then shattered. Dejection. One way energy discarded. Cries of terror. Gut -wrenching pain from a vice continually tightening. Despair.
Lost opportunities. Still like a child. Repeated mistakes. Embraces of comfort. Intimacy. Red filled skies. Tranquility. Erased memories. Broken man. Touch. Remembered consequences. Missed chances at redemption. Hidden feelings. Forgiveness.
Somehow this place.. Bloodhoof Village... and Mulgore for that matter...is his sanctuary. Somehow. It offers its own mystery and beauty to him. Its own connections to his past, its own connections to his inner self. It offers a beauty that Silvermoon and the elves can’t touch, can’t began to conjure up. His first song carried itself upon the wind here; The discovery and development of his inner Light happened here. It will always carry a special place in his heart. Always.
Upon a fallen tree trunk submerged partially by water, Nestáron sits in contemplation, his hair a bit disheveled and his eyes red with strain. Nes wears a stern and perturbed look on his face, along with a frown twisted with grief, pain and anger. He wears just his red-accented pants, content to let the chill of the water and wind blow across his bare chest.
His body radiates heat and anger; Still but quivering; Strong but fragile. His eyes accent the contradiction: eyes of anger and tears of grief. His brotherly connection to Kazeshini may have been broken, may have been shattered, but he didn’t want it to end this way. Not like this. He didn’t want this anger to continue to swell in him, continue to hold power over him. But it hurt..so very much.
Unbeknownst to Nes, a priest stood on the shore, watching him curiously with a bit a worry. In all of the priest’s previous encounters with Nes, he had never seen him like this. Never in tears uncontrollably, never with this anger in his eyes. He had only seen the happy and joyous Nes, always coy and playful around him. He stood there silently for a couple minutes, trying to figure out how best to approach his dear friend, Nes.
The priest approached Nes with something he knew that his friend needed: Food. The priest walked toward Nes with a bit of caution, hoping not to catch him off-guard. He entreated the paladin to eat some food to replenish his energy and Nes nodded thoughtfully to the suggestion, taking the food in hand. What happened next surprised the priest greatly; Nes ate and swallowed the food in a couple seconds flat. The priest blinked and chuckled at the sight, happy that he had followed his advice.
They spent an hour or two talking about what was bothering the paladin and what had gotten him into this state. The priest gave him some sagely advice, though it was easier said than followed. Even with this however, Nes figured out one way of trying to get rid of his anger and fury at his brother. The one thing that soothed him, the one thing that brought him peace and the one thing that brought him tranquility: Singing.
Although, Nestáron often shares his calling with others, the song changes a bit with those he trusts completely. His songs have new meaning with his walls down, his heart completely open, and his voice soaring across the wind. There are a select few, three in total, that he considers in such company: Liliania, Mayune, and the priest. Liliania is such for virtue of him having grown up with her, trust building stronger over time. Mayune is such for his spiritual and brotherly connection to her. The priest earned it by nature of forming a strong bond with Nes over quite a few months, being his hidden pillar of support, evolving and strengthening over time.
Nestáron begins to sing, voice full of emotion, full of anger. Parts of the anger began to dissipate as he sings, but only slightly. He lets his heartfelt emotion take over the song, letting it fully express his feelings at the time; One of anger but also one of wanting to let go.
As he reached the end of the song, his voice became determined, tender, and hopeful. He raised his arms, spanning wide in the air and tilted his head up to the stars. As his mouth pursed the last words of the song, he held each word of the last line for several minutes each, voice echoing through the hills and valleys of Mulgore, his body enveloped by his inner Light. He let his arms linger over the words for a few moments before slowly dropping his arms back to his sides. Nestáron lets out a deep and pleasant sigh as all of his anger and frustration was carried on the notes of his song, floating into the winds of his sanctuary.
