The Silvermoon Academy

Miss Lillian Moonwhisper was a slight elf with wavy mousy hair and perfectly manicured hands, carefully considering her world from behind sober black-rimmed spectacles.

Saying that her world was limited to the Silvermoon Academy would hardly be an overstatement, but within that limited orb, she brought order to chaos: she could proudly say (but she would have never said it) that everything in her hands always made perfect sense.

Her pride was, however, like her spectacles, very no-nonsense. She had been working for Mr Sunwither long enough to have become indispensable like that first cup of coffee, or the pristine sheet of paper with his daily schedule written down in her perfectly even hand. “Whatever would I do without you, Lillian?” he would often ask. “Probably miss the most boring half of your appointments and make coffee yourself, sir? Maybe burn it from time to time?” she would grin briefly and go on with her work.

That was Miss Moonwhisper. Everybody knew her without knowing her, and as with many discreet and kind people, everybody talked to her; and being a great listener she knew pretty much everything that happened on campus, and a lot of what happened outside. This, she would have never dreamt of using to her advantage except for the rare occasions where it would help her be more efficient at her job of organizing the world.

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It was lunchtime and like every day, Miss Moonwhisper sat on a bench outside with her lunchbox; like every day students and teachers and staff poured out of the classrooms and offices to have a bite before the start of the next period. Some nods and smiles went the Secretary’s way, and they were politely returned. But even the people who didn’t notice her were in a way reassuring, as familiar faces going about their daily business are to some people.

But were they all familiar faces? She was mildly surprised to notice a young female troll wandering, trying as it seemed to get a better look of someone else. Miss Moonwhisper couldn’t help but stare for a little longer than was proper; there were other trolls in the Academy, but this one looked so… wild; she had the terrible elegance of a tiger. Suddenly, the tiger turned around to meet the Secretary’s eye, flashed a huge grin and winked. The elf looked down immediately, her cheeks slightly flushed and her heart beating slightly faster, reproaching herself for having been so rude and rather taken aback at having been winked at. She tried to remember the last time that had happened to her, and she failed. Not even Mr Sunwither, who was quite the jester in his amiable way, had ever done so.

Her composure regained and ready to apologise properly, she looked up, but the stranger was gone. Instead, Miss Moonwhisper thought she saw something flying past her. She blinked a few times; it had been too fast to make out, but she was almost certain it had come from the general direction of the troll girl. The Secretary took out her glasses and wiped them with her handkerchief. She replaced them over her green eyes who were looking intently for some sign of the unknown troll or, Light forbid, of any trouble. The oblivious denizens of the Academy campus went about their normal business which given the time was still mostly lunch. But all the familiar faces were not reassuring to Miss Lillian Moonwhisper, whose usual noontime meal had suddenly turned sour.

Larciel Sunspell hugged her arms around herself as she and her bodyguard walked through the city. The mage had become somewhat reclusive since returning, and even with the death knight by her side, Larciel felt...uneasy. It felt as if she was always being watched, the stalker ready to jump out and attack her at any moment.

She gasped as her foot caught in the red carpet runner leading into the Spire. Thankfully, she caught herself before she went flying, and shot an embarrassed grin to Lady Alastania before continuing on the way.

As the pair reached the entrance to the Spire, where the Academy's administrative offices were found, she turned to her guard. "You can wait here if you want. I trust Renthal, so I'm sure nothing will happen in there." She gave what was meant to be a reassuring smile before stepping through the doors.

Immediately, she felt the loss of the cold, stoic elf. Taking a deep breath, she wound through the halls until she found Healer Renthal Windleaf's office. Another deep breath and her knuckles were rapping at the door.

Knock, knock, knock...

Renthal looked up when he heard the knock at the door. His brow furrowed as, for a brief instant, he wondered who wanted to speak with him. After that brief instant, though, he remembered that he had an appointment scheduled. He remembered who he was seeing and why, and one hand touched the pendant hidden beneath his robes as he recalled the last time they spoke.

As he stood up, he closed the file he had been reading and placed it inside his desk. He walked quickly to the door and opened it, smiling gently as he saw the student standing on the other side.

"Good morning, Larciel." Renthal stepped slightly to one side and gestured for her to step inside his office. "Please, come in."

The mage smiled at the polite greeting and was one foot inside the door when she felt an almost imperceptible weight between her shoulder blades. Figuring it was her hair shifting to settle against her back, she reached back and gathered the strands to pull them over her shoulder. Her other foot made it inside the door as a warmth spread throughout her being.

Furrowing her brows a little, she settled into one of the chairs in Renthal's office, turning to look at him as she did so. Immediately, she was surprised at what she saw. The platinum strands, the buff body beneath that robe he always wore, that handsome face peering at her even now...the sparkling smile...

He is HOT!

Larciel felt herself flushing as her mouth dropped open and she continued to stare.

As Renthal started to close the door, he felt a slight stinging sensation on his arm. He looked down, puzzled, but saw nothing unusual. After a few seconds, he closed the door, and did not notice the slight crunch that signaled his sandaled foot landing atop the small dart on the ground. He shivered slightly, as if cold, but quickly dismissed the sensation as he walked back to his desk.

He glanced over at Larciel, and had to fight the sudden urge to order her to leave. Why would he want to do something like that, anyway? She was there for an appointment, and it would be wrong of him to send her away without them finishing the meeting. And yet...Renthal didn't understand why he felt the way he did. Larciel had done nothing wrong, nor did he have any other reason to feel so antagonistic towards her, yet...why was she staring at him like that? Didn't she realize how irritating it was to be stared at like that, or how rude it was for her to do so?

Renthal shook his head as he sat down. No, he really didn't want anything to do with her at all. Even despite knowing why she was there and the importance of her visit, he wanted nothing more than for her to leave him in peace. The only thing keeping him from ordering her to go away was the reason for her visit, and Renthal resolved to get through the appointment as quickly as reasonably possible.

"Larciel." He looked across the desk, his expression as calm as ever, yet his voice was slightly sharper than normal despite his efforts to contain his emotions. "Shall we begin?"

That voice! It's the voice of angels!

Larciel continued to stare, open-mouthed, for another moment.

"Uh...I...what? Oh, um...yes, of course." She flushed a deeper shade of red, crossing her legs and fidgeting.

What could she do to get his attention? She chewed her lip as she thought. How did people flirt? She'd seen some girls flirting before, and she had tried it herself when she was younger, but she always felt embarrassed. She was never smooth the way the other girls were.

Bat my eyes, touch his arm, make him notice my chest and legs, look deeply into his eyes...

When she looked up, she was a little confused to see the ultra-serious expression on the healer's face. Rolling her eyes back in her head, she tried to bat her eyelashes at him seductively, but ended up looking more like she was having a seizure.

Concern warred with the ever-growing feeling of loathing and disgust for several seconds, as Renthal quietly watched Larciel. With an effort, he forced himself to stand up and quickly walk around the desk, and it was all he could do to keep from showing his antipathy towards Larciel as he looked down at her.

"Are you all right?"

Larciel stopped her eye-batting-seizure move. "Yes, why?" She asked with a grin, pressing her arms together coyly to show off what little cleavage she could muster.

Suddenly she burst out laughing and lightly touched Renthal's arm. "You're so funny!" She could feel her face burning. Is it working?

"You seemed to be in some distress. I am glad to see that is not the case."

Renthal's eyes narrowed ever-so-slightly as Larciel laid her hand on his arm. Biting back a sigh, he firmly grasped the offending hand and laid it back down on her own lap, before walking back to his chair and sitting down.

"I'm glad I could be of some amusement to you." He sat stiffly in his chair, struggling to keep his anger at bay, although it was becoming increasingly more difficult to do so. "With that said, however, we need to get down to business."

Whoops... He didn't seem to like that at all. Maybe he didn't want a pushy woman. Maybe someone more demure?

Pouting her lips in what she hoped was a seductive manner, Larciel glanced down at the floor. "Okay..." she said in a whiny voice, a couple of octaves higher than normal. She bunched her dress up in her fingers as if terribly nervous, biting her lip again.

Light, grant me patience.

Renthal couldn't say that he did not care about Larciel's sudden shifts in mood. Despite his current irritation at her and her advances, a small tendril of concern did fight to the surface. Were these abrupt shifts in mood a sign of her mental state? If that was the case, then what was supposed to be a routine evaluation could very easily turn into a not-so-routine one.

Please let this go smoothly so she can leave in a timely manner!

Renthal clasped his hands together as he gazed steadily at Larciel, and as he did so he tried to force himself to relax a bit. "You do know why you are here, yes?"

Larciel looked up at him from what she hoped were bedroom eyes. She nodded slowly. "My mother sent me a letter about it. Um, but I think I'm fine! You think I'm fine...right?"

She waited on the edge of her seat for his answer, her double meaning clear in her own mind if not in Renthal's. It would utterly devastate her if he answered in the negative...but that would just mean she would have to work harder!

Renthal nodded, slowly. "Yes, I did receive the request from your mother. She is concerned about you, about your well-being. As to whether or not you are fine..." His voice trailed off as he stared silently at Larciel for several seconds. "That is what we are here to determine."

Larciel stared at Renthal. What does he mean? Is the demure girl not working either? Am I being too subtle?

She pursed her lips a split second before she went flying across the desk, planting her lips on the Healer's in a sloppy, puckered kiss.

Renthal's eyes widened in alarm, but he didn't have time to react before the Magistry student wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

Enough of this!

Any lingering concern that Renthal might have felt for Larciel dissipated as he roughly yanked her arms away from his neck and pushed her away. As she slid back across the desk, he stood up and glared at her, any trace of compassion or empathy that was normally on his face replaced by one of pure anger.

"What do you think you are doing? Calm yourself, now! This is not the time nor the place for such nonsense!"

"Ow, ow, ow..." Larciel muttered as she slid back across the desk. She'd hit it a bit harder than she meant when she went flying over to her true love. She rubbed her left elbow and right knee as she looked up at him.

"What do you think you are doing? Calm yourself, now! This is not the time nor the place for such nonsense!"

Her jaw dropped open. Had she been reading his signals wrong?

"What do you mean? Renthal, we were obviously meant to be together! Don't you feel it?! There's so much sexual tension in this room, you could cut it with a dagger!" She stared at him with desperate, widened eyes.

"There is tension in this room; however, I strongly doubt it is of a sexual nature."

Renthal's voice was calm, but clipped. He crossed his arms over his chest as he stared across the desk at Larciel, without a trace of compassion or empathy in his bearing to temper his intimidating frame.

"You can either calm yourself now so we can get to business, or you can leave and come back after you have taken the time to calm yourself. The choice is yours."

With her best sad puppy face, Larciel crawled up on the desk and sat on her haunches in front of her love. She stared at up him, trying to look all intimidating and mean. It only made him more handsome.

"I don't understand! You were sending me all those signals and...and..." She paused, her lip trembling. "Is there someone else?"

"Signals? The only signals I sent were those that matched my words--that you were here for a reason, and we needed to attend to that reason. There was nothing else, and I do not know why you insist that there is."

The sad puppy face seemed to have the opposite effect than was intended, as it only caused Renthal to grow even more irritated at Larciel. He took a step forward and leaned down so that his face was mere inches from hers.

"Get off my desk, or I contact the Guard for assistance."

Larciel looked into the angry eyes, then down at the soft, pouty lips, then forced her eyes back up again.

"This isn't a signal?" she asked softly.