[Lomenár] Homecomming

Dusk. The time of day when the shadows lengthened and swept the last daylight aside, making way for the night's arrival. Lomenár stood at the bow of the large ship, watching the last rays of the sun disappear into the sea. The water that had been a crystalline blue and completely clear just a few moments ago, darkened quickly and suddenly seemed threatening and dense. She shuddered and pulled her cloak tighter around her. Shadows and darkness usually comforted her, but tonight they seemed ominous somehow. Lomenár turned away from watching the water and strode across the deck to speak with the captain.

"How long until we reach Stormwind?"
"Eager to leave the ship, are ya landlubber?" The captain, a woman in her late forties, smirked and raised an eyebrow.
"As a matter of fact, yes." Lomenár met the woman's gaze evenly, her face void of any expression.
"Not used to the sea, eh? You landlubbers get upset by the least little thing."
"It is not the ship that upsets me." Lomenár could not help but flicker her gaze towards the dark water again.
The captain rolled her eyes and laughed.
"We'll be there soon enough. Now quit botherin' me, or we'll never get there."
Lomenár clenched her fists and had to force herself to swallow her rage and feelings of anxiety. If she tossed the captain over board in a fit of rage she was sure to never reach her destination, and that would be worse than trying to stand the despicable woman's insults.

They reached Stormwind harbour well past midnight and Lomenár, who had expected to feel relieved that she was halfway home, felt her stomach tie itself into a hard knot instead. Something was wrong... very wrong. It was not the fact that she was in a place made entirely out of stone, mortar and high walls, since that always made her extremely uncomfortable and wary. No... this was something else. The ship for Kalimdor wouldn't leave until dawn, so she slung her pack and bow over her shoulder and begun climbing the steps up to the city.

The streets of Stormwind were dimly lit and the shadows cast were elongated and twisted. Lomenár walked swiftly through the winding streets, tense and every sense alert for danger. She jumped at every noise and after a while she abandoned every pretence of calm and started running. She ran as fast as she could, the wind brining tears to her eyes and almost blinding her. She heard a couple exclaim angrily as she almost barrelled into them, but she continued on without looking back until she finally skidded to a stop in front of her destination.

The archway in the wall looked almost the same and she could see the trunk of the tree through it. But the closer she got, the worse her feeling of wrongness became. She put a hand on the wall to steady herself and recoiled almost immediately. There, at the base of the wall, was a scorch mark. It was almost completely faded, but since she was looking for something, anything, out of the ordinary she noticed it. She closed her eyes for a brief moment before taking a deep breath and walked through the archway.

At first glance it looked like it had a year ago, the tree in the middle decorated with shells, beads and feathers, the table and chairs and the soft mat of green grass. But upon closer inspection Lomenár noticed the faded and scrubbed at scorch marks even here. She also noted the state of neglect that coated the whole place. The grass grew wild and untended and weeds and mushrooms contended with the grass for the small space. And the tree... the tree was much, much smaller than the one she remembered from a year ago. Lomenár stared around, completely dumbfounded. She had not expected this feeling of wrongness to have anything to do with the embassy, but it did... oh, it did. She had expected the place she remembered from a year ago, a small piece of home in an otherwise unwelcoming world, and what she found instead was this... a place that no longer felt safe or comforting. What in the name of Malorne had happened here?

Lomenár backed out of the embassy, still in a state of shock. It was clear that something dire had happened here, even though it might be a few months ago now judging by the faded marks and the tree... but the worry and fear lingered and she knew she had to get home... as soon as possible! What had happened to her friends? Had they been here when whatever had happened, happened? Had they been hurt? Were they still alive? The worry coiled around her heart and chilled her bones to ice. Stormfeather, Nightborne, Oakleaf... her Sentinels... She clutched the wall for support and had to fight a vicious battle with herself before she finally managed to push the fear down. She would get home and go to the bottom of this. She would.

Lomenár suddenly sniffed the air and looked up towards the sky. Dawn. She slung her bow and pack over her shoulder once again and headed back to the dock and the ship that would finally take her home.