Showanna's Choice

Author: Janna

The wooden door gave a muffled creak, followed by soft footsteps from the room next door. Her mother who had been alerted by the sound entered the living room and greeted her with a warm smile.

“Welcome home, child. Have you eaten yet?”

The small, low-ceilinged space was lit only by the glow of a milky glass sphere sitting in the middle of the table, and the elves' silver eyes. Showanna shook her head.

“Not since noon. Is father home?”

“He will be here shortly. He is intent on finishing yesterday's order before he will agree to rest.”

Showanna nodded. She knew her father as a stubborn and hard working man, one who had earned the respect of the village without ever trying. His craftsmanship was admirable indeed; yet no such contemplation of his qualities could turn her mood in his favour at the moment.

“I will leave Teldrassil, mother.”

She held her breath after she had uttered these words. Yet her mother only indicated a nod. The older woman poured a vial of moonwell water into the silver basin atop their home altar, then bowed her head in prayer for a few heartbeats. Finally, she turned around to face her daughter, who felt regret rising in her throat. A pained crease had appeared between her mother's eyebrows.

“I cannot stop you, but I beseech you to reconsider. You will not find what you desire, and you will come to understand that you are on a fool's errant.”

The door creaked again, and both of their heads turned to the man entering the room now. Even in the darkness, their elven eyes allowed them to clearly make out the many scars upon his arms and hands, the sawdust clinging to his workman's clothes and the fierce expression upon his face as his gaze fell upon his daughter.

“Again?”, his voice boomed. “I told you before, Showanna, I will hear no more of this. The druids at the Circle know your name, and have given me their word not to support your childish obsessions.”

“I am a child no more”, protested the young Kaldorei.

Her father sank into an upholstered wooden chair and exchanged a meaningful glance with his spouse, who had begun to set the table and now handed a chunk of fragrant pine nut bread to each of them.

“And the Circle has been allowing women for years now, father.” She knew it was pointless to stand up to him, and yet she would not, could not bend to his will this time.

“They will come to see their mistake soon enough. Mark my words.”

“Emlea is allowed to go.”

Her father raised his bushy brow. “So this is where all this comes from? You don't want to let go of your playmate?”

“Your father is right”, her mother chimed in before she could respond. “You are too young to make such an important life decision, and times change so rapidly these days, who can know what tomorrow will bring. You would do better for yourself if you listened to your elders.”

Her father nodded emphatically. “Pick up a weapon”, he said gruffly, jerking his head towards his own sword, hung upon the wall, dusty from years of disuse. “Learn to fight, as befits a young woman as yourself. Then later learn from the druids, if not you will have changed your mind.”

Showanna shook her head glumly. “I have no talent for battle.”

“You are a rather good shot with the bow”, her mother reminded her kindly.

“Perhaps, yet it hurts my arm and I abhor taking the animals' lives.”

Her father chuckled. “Taking lives is no small part of druidry, child.”

She glowered angrily at him. “That is different.” She pushed her chair back and jumped to her bare feet. “Whatever you may say, I will still go and they cannot refuse me.”

“They will”, he answered dryly, yet Showanna had already slammed the door behind her.

Outside, a warm wind was blowing and the songs of the late birds filled the air. She slowed her steps when she reached the edge of the woods, and sat on the mossy ground. Sighing up at the moon that hung pale over the houses of Dolanaar, she inwardly cursed not only her conservative parents, but also herself for disturbing the domestic peace as she had.

The moss swallowed the sound of footfalls, and Showanna jumped in surprise when suddenly somebody threw their arms around her and and breathed a kiss into her neck.

“How did it go?”, asked the lithe woman who was now seating herself beside her. Showanna shook her head silently, and the other woman's expression darkened.

“They only mean well”, Emlea spoke softly, “but they understand you so little.”

Showanna suddenly had to bite back tears. “I will go with you regardless, Em! I will go under a different name, disguise myself if I must.” She was surprised at how resolute her own voice sounded. Her lover considered her earnestly, the moonlight reflecting off her delicate features.

“No, Nannah, you can't. The druids at the Cenarion Circle know your father's name, and I know not what is true of the rumours about his deeds, but their respect for him is imperturbable. And should they find out, us both could be banned.”

This gave Showanna pause – she did not want Emlea to suffer because of her own stubborn disobedience. Gently, she placed her arm around the other's waist and pulled her closer.

“I would not want to stand in your way. Then I must find my own way to learn, or a teacher who gives nothing about the Circle's word.”

Emlea smiled roguishly. “Give it a decade or so, and perhaps I shall be able to teach you.”

“You overestimate my patience”, grinned Showanna, and they embraced, laughing quietly into each other's hair.