Wanderlust

Author’s note: WHEW! Well I am in such a good mood from being at BlizzCon the past 2 days, I decided I would post this up and get working on more! : D! Sort of a boring transitional chapter I know :C But hey, work is going on chapter 8, when we'll see a familiar face again >u< Anyway, enjoy!

Chapter 7

Dawn turned to day, the storm passed, and the crisply sunny weather returned to the emerald plains. The sun shone brave and golden down on the tiny village where a Troll cried and no ghost wolf tore through the center of town chased by an old Shaman master. Nature itself held its breath in mourning and stillness washed over the landscape. That alone was the sign of what had transpired that final dawn. That alone meant Aykwani could never be the same.

To the young man Inali left behind it all seemed a horrible blur. Living was empty, hollow; purposeless. There was no future he could see and his past felt as if it had suddenly vanished. There was no motion, no guidance, nothing to grasp at and hold on to, and for the first time in his life Enoki felt truly alone. Even with Cygnus’ kind care as he had promised Inali, as well as meals and words of comfort from scores of other worried villagers the cabin felt desolate and abandoned without his grandfather.

Making it through the days of preparation for the funeral was nothing short of torture as well. He could barely feed himself much less participate in the ceremonial wrapping and embalming of Inali’s body. Remembering his final words to him gave him the strength to knuckle down and organize his final rites, but it was arduous and agonizing beyond anything he had ever endured. When the day of the funeral finally arrived it was a guilty brand of reprieve.

As if in honor of him Mulgore was bright, warm and beautiful just as the day Inali passed away. The sound of the Tauren singing their mourning songs to the heavens carried crystal clear on coursing winds, the drums, chimes, and ritual rattles blended together in sweet, loving farewell, and the clomping of hooves against the Earth shook it awake. The verdant meadows came alive with glowing pollens and dancing golden rays of light, the clouds moved with timeless purpose across the never ending strata, and as Enoki followed dutifully behind the pallbearers hefting the ceremonial carriage he could feel a comforting presence all around him. A small smile worked its way onto his lips and he wiped the tears from his cheeks with a silent thanks to his grandfather as they spiraled up the long path to the funereal mesa.

There, among the high towers of platforms filled with the bodies of Tauren ancestry long passed and offered up to the Gods in the sky, Cygnus stood before his village as he bid his comrade goodbye and good journey in the afterlife. The old druid pontificated fondly about his friend before he finally gave over to the redheaded Troll listening with ears drooped and tears sliding down his face but smiling ever brighter.

Enoki spoke briefly but only out of duty as Inali’s only technical family. He had tried valiantly to write an epic, sweeping eulogy that would show his village and the Gods themselves what a hero Inali was. Nothing he said seemed to him to even honor his grandfather. No words his mind could conjure could encompass the feelings in his heart or the impact on his life the old bull selflessly offered him. Even still, his tears were kept at bay for his final ineloquent wishes of him, and he smiled crookedly all the while just for him. He was how Inali wanted to remember him, smiling, laughing, and even soliciting tearful chuckles from the crowd. That was how he honored the memory of his only guardian, and Enoki stepped down into Cygnus’s waiting embrace feeling slightly less alone.

Inali’s celebrated form was finally raised onto the highest platform closest to the sun and the village erupted into mourning song. Enoki danced and sang with them at the top of his lungs, even while flubbing the Taurahe lyrics Inali had taught him in futile. That mattered naught, his voice sang louder than all of them and was the only one to touch the clouds skirting the heavens. The ceremony ended, and the funeral made the long trek back to the village for the traditional feast that always followed. The day set with Enoki and the rest of them feeling strengthened by the old Shaman’s spiritual presence and protected with him among their blessed ancestors.

For Enoki, however, life after Inali’s final rites proved to be the tragically poetic embodiment of tedium. There were no more lessons to attend, no more grandfather to run errands for, and no spirit or will to practice even the moves that reminded him of Jyota. The Troll spent his days in the cabin sprawled across his bed or aimlessly wandering the outskirts of Aykwani to ensure Zynn got his meals. Each day melded into the next in a growing cycle of monotony and lonesomeness that opened a black void which threatened to swallow him in and stole the light of mischief and spirit from his emerald eyes.

Valiantly though he tried to hide it, smiling and laughing with whomever inquired as to his wellbeing, there was one denizen of the Tauren community astute enough to realize the Troll was not himself. So one blustery, cold afternoon, Cygnus stalked slowly just along the river that nourished their village, waiting for the redheaded Troll to return. The druid had not long to wait, for return he did, a drooping, sleepy Zynn in his arms and his wild-maned head hung in private sorrow. Cygnus smiled easily and held a hand out for the young man.

“Hail, Enoki…” he said.

Startled, the Troll’s head jerked up with a gasp and he squeezed his raptor a bit too tightly.

“Cygnus! Sir!” he yelped, “S-Sorry mon, didn’t see you dere!”

The Tauren laid a sturdy hand on his shoulder while he offered a comforting chuckle.

“It’s alright, I was just hoping to catch you out here so I could talk to you in private,” he answered.

Enoki’s long ears drooped and he looked pointedly at the ground. That very opening line was the precursor to the routine of reassurance he had become all too accustomed to.

“Ah, you don’t gotta check up on Enoki, sir,” he interjected, “He be fine, he be getting’ on jes fine. Jes doin’ what Grandda told me.”

Cygnus’s ears flicked and he cocked his head to the side.

“You may be fooling everyone else, but I can see you are suffering greatly,” he whispered, “I can see that the light that was Enoki is gone…”

Enoki turned wet, skittish eyes up to the leader of his home and just as swiftly ducked his head again with his arms tightening around Zynn.

“I tryin’ tah do what he said…” he finally admitted, “But it so hard. I-I dunno what tah do wit myself. Ain’ no up an ain’ no down witout Grandda. It like I jes walkin’ yanno? Walking forever an’ getting’ nowhere, an’ not even seein’ anywhere to turn… Everywhere de same.”

Enoki stooped down to set Zynn upon the ground and rose back up with his shoulders hunched and lanky arms coiled around his tiny waist.

“Ah… I see. Your Grandfather was indeed a guiding light in your life,” Cygnus began with a tiny smirk, “But he was right about you…”

Put on the alert then, Enoki’s head snapped to attention.

“Eh? Wh-What’d he say?”

Cygnus thumbed his braided beard as if deep in thought and far too preoccupied to hear the question.

“Come on! What’d he say? You gotta tell me Cygnus please! Dis my Grandda we talkin’ about, you ain’ DAT cruel! Spit it out!” Enoki begged, “Cygnus? Cygnus! Cygnus! COME ON MON!”

The white-furred bull took a few moments, looking up at the sky, swishing his tail and deliberately stalling before he finally turned his amused, affectionate gaze back down to Enoki.

“It’s frustrating isn’t it? When someone doesn’t listen,” he finally chided.

Enoki blinked, dumbfounded, and his jaw went slack.

“H-Huh…?”

“Heh, I said… It’s frustrating when someone doesn’t listen. Inali said your one flaw was you never listened to him. And it looks like he was right,” replied the druid.

He had hoped it might have a profound awakening effect, but his Troll companion’s face twisted with the offended grimace of someone who had just been informed the sky was blue.

“Well, duh! YAH he said dat, he said dat a lot! Sheesh an’ here I thought you had some touching, meaningful advice for me, t’anks fah nothin’!” he groused, snatching up the ruby raptor at his feet and stomping off to leave.

“I do, Enoki,” Cygnus added firmly, stopping the other with both of them facing opposite directions, “What was the last thing Inali said to you…? Do you remember?”

The wind gusted with force and whipped the long, thin streak of red that was his ponytail around Enoki’s body furiously, crimson bangs flashing over his eyes.

“H-He told me…” he began, screwing his eyes shut and letting Zynn down again, but faltering, grasping at his memories, “I-I don’ really remembah much. W-We jes said goodbye yanno?”

“That’s not it. Remember Enoki… You remember, I know you do…”

The day Inali died was still a streak of dark emptiness in his memory, and thinking of his grandfather so sick and small in the final hours of his life only brought tears rolling down his cheeks.

“H-He said… Stuff about bein’ a good Shaman! An’ totems an’ spirits an’ all kinda crap, I was sobbin’ my eyes out I don’ know!” he stammered frustratedly.

“Think back, you were listening, you’re just choosing not to now!”

The grasses hissed as they flattened, slapped and crashed under the gales and Enoki forced himself to remember. He knew all along what he had said, but it made no sense, held no meaning, not until he thought once again what the words truly meant. As if the kind voice were whispering in his ear he heard exactly what Inali had said once more.

“He said!” he called bravely to the winds as if it would carry his voice to him among the spirits, “He said I should live! He said I should do what I want! I should listen tah de Earth an’ follow my heart! He said-!”

A poignant gasp ended his stream of thought, and he turned back to face Cygnus once more; Cygnus who had already turned to face him again with a sagely smile.

“He told you… All you need to know. You know what you want to do, where you want to go, you’ve already chosen your path, you need only to follow it.”

Enoki fell silent. His emerald eyes darted from Cygnus, to the ground, to the sky to Cygnus again, and finally, once more to the horizon far in the distance just visible over the Tauren’s great stature. Long ears slowly swiveled back up, his brow lifted, and his vision cleared; taken by the call of the wild, of the unknown and a teasing flash of violet hair on a speeding raptor. The very same force tugged him toward the hazy horizon with the tantalizing visions of worlds and lands unexplored, feral and waiting. The Shaman gave Cygnus a final, steady gaze, and the first genuine ghost of a smile since Inali’s passing tugged the corners of his lips.

“Thanks,” he whispered earnestly.

Cygnus chuckled and bowed his heavy, horned head in respect for the young man before him.

“It is my duty and my pleasure to reach out to those in pain and help them find their way when all seems lost,” he replied, “To help them remember that nothing is ever truly lost, there is always another path, even if it seems the Gods have thrown obstacles in every clear way.”

Enoki nodded and picked up Zynn.

“Grandda said sometin’ like dat once,” he remarked with a coy grin, “See? I can listen when it realleh important.”

“Yes I can see that young one, I gained that very wisdom from him in fact, years ago. And he knew that about you too,” Cygnus added with a chuckle, “But enough of this, Inali wouldn’t want us standing out here in the cold. If you’re feeling up to it, I know dinner’s about to be served around the central fire. You’re more than welcome to join us.”

Enoki smiled a private, furtive smile and put a quick, light step filled with purpose forward.

“Oh, yeah dat sound good, I stop by an grab a bite mebbe,” was his only answer, “T’anks again Cygnus, sometimes, yeh realleh do jes gotta listen.”

Before the Tauren could answer, Enoki was gone; sprinting away fast as the winds on the plains back home. Cygnus smiled to himself, closed his eyes, and tapped the earth affectionately with his staff.

“You were right about your boy Inali,” he whispered, “I foresee a long journey for him, but someday, just as you said, he will find himself, and he will find where he belongs.”

He shifted his hooves heavily toward back home and as he had fully expected, Enoki was nowhere to be found at dinner that night.

The Troll was instead sealed inside his cabin, flurrying with boundless energy as he cleaned and straightened the place for its final rest. Where there had been nothing but endless plains of nothingness there was finally a path, a goal, a future. There was somewhere to go, anywhere to go, and someone to find. Grief no longer clouded his senses and crushed his spirit, instead he remembered even more vividly what his Grandfather had told him. His words rang in his heart as the only golden truth in the world. He had to live.

No sleep came for Enoki that night as the sun set and the double moons rose in their ancient path across the sky. They watched, silent and majestic as the windows of the cabin were sealed and boarded shut, the fire was put out, and the Shaman prepared his home like a sacred memorial monument. He tidied the kitchen, swept out the living room, threw all the stored food out for the animals and arranged everything in a neat and organized portrait of his life the way his grandfather liked to keep his home. The only thing he dared not touch was the old Tauren’s personal chambers.

Though he paused for quite some time with his three-fingered hand spread on the carved wooden door and his long ear pressed against it as if he could hear laughter, or snoring, or the quiet singing of old Tauren lullabies before Inali’s slumber, Enoki never mustered the will to open it. Inali’s room would stay a sacred chamber; an untouched and unaltered mausoleum. That final task would remain forever undone, and only once the rest of the house felt just as still and at peace did he finally gather his bravery and enter his own bedroom for the final time.

The redhead stood in the doorway, breathless, with emerald eyes surveying the carnage that had become of his chambers. It nearly brought his entire crusade to an end but the thought of stopping then was far more painful than the act of loading his worldly belongings into Inali’s old traveling pack. The moment he grasped a pair of black leather breeches to fold as neatly as he could, however, it felt right once again. The old mischievous grin graced his puckish, angular features and he laughed as he crammed a tunic right in after it.

Enoki loped about his bedroom in only the silvery light streaming through his window, snatching what clothes would fit into his bag and dressing himself in what would not, leaping over Zynn’s nest as not to disturb his sleep and filling the trunk at the foot of his bed with things that had to be left behind. He dressed himself in his thickest and most protective garb; laced black trousers with matching ankle wraps, a bright red, long sleeved tunic with simple leather shoulder pads, but most importantly he strapped a long dagger to one hip and the precious satchel of Inali’s totems to the other. When he had finished, the room was lit with a rosy golden hue of dawn and the only trace of someone having ever lived in it was the neatly made bed and the half burned candle on the dresser at its side.

It felt strange to the Troll, standing in the chambers where he had grown up and feeling as if he had never been there at all. Everything faded to the muted flaxen hues of misty memory as he watched and bid silent farewell to the ghosts of his younger self and the doting Grandfather who had tended to him. He found himself smiling crookedly, left with a feeling of an end leading to a new beginning and giving the room a jaunty, mock salute.

“Well house, guess dis it!” he chuckled as he turned his back toward his room and laid a hand on the doorframe, “Lots of good memories… But… It time fah ol’ Enoki tah find his own way.”

Teal fingertips glided over the smooth wood notched once a year to measure how tall Enoki had grown, though he was taller than the last mark. Nimble feet marched past the hearth where he had so often fallen asleep in Inali’s lap though the fire was out and the ashes swept. A sharp whistle echoed in the stillness of the cabin and the skittering of tiny eager raptor claws broke the silence as Zynn hurried after his master. The door opened, filling the dwelling with thick, hazy golden light and Enoki turned, wild red hair a fiery halo with the sun behind him and his long shadow bent across the floor.

“I’ll nevah forget dis place, I’ll nevah forget,” he whispered to no one in particular with a fond smile on his lips, “Thank you, Grandda, Cygnus, everyone…”

Enoki chuckled quietly and finally took the step backward off the threshold of the house.

“Thank you. An’ goodbye.”

Darkness closed like a curtain over the scene inside, the hinges of the old door squeaked affectionately in farewell, and Enoki shut it for the final time.

He failed to notice there were even tears in his eyes until they fell in two hot streaks down his cheeks, but he whistled unsteadily to Zynn again and turned to face the road leading out of town.

“Come on boy, lets go before anyone wakes up an’ makes a scene,” he chuckled as he dried his eyes, hefted his pack on his back and trotted briskly through the center of town.

Aykwani was indeed silent and still sleeping as the Troll and his raptor stole sneakily away in the early dawn leaving nothing in their wake but a trail of double toed and clawed footprints side by side. Enoki made certain to grace every building, every windmill and vendor stand with a silent goodbye and the same crooked, amused salute and all too soon the towering eagle-headed totem poles that guarded the main road into town rose over the hill swathed in shadow. His heart soared, his footsteps quickened, his escape was nearly clean and stolen, but as he crested the slope of the shallow knoll he found the proverbial gateway to freedom altogether blocked by a line of villagers awaiting him.

They held baskets of food and parting gifts, they were clad in their finest ceremonial garb as if sending a hero off to war, his friends, Inali’s friends, everyone in the village had gathered for him. Cygnus stood at the head of it all, leaning on his staff and smiling with white fur ablaze and glowing. He raised a hand in greeting to the shocked young man and beckoned him onward.

“Hail, Enoki!” he called with a chuckle, “Keep going! You didn’t really think we were going to let you slip off into the world without a proper goodbye did you?”

Enoki stood stark still, stunned, even as Zynn scampered off to the offering of a juicy hunk of raw meat to tide him over on the road tossed for him. He had stepped straight into a story again. He had long imagined the beginning of his journey in his head and it had always been filled with grand ceremony and epic farewells that would be handed down for centuries to come. He never imagined it would actually come to pass, and as he trotted toward Cygnus he felt more majestic and heroic than any of the tales he had ever heard. That, he realized, was what Inali meant to him in his final breaths, Inali who had always known his spirit was wild.

“H-How’d you know I was leavin’ today?” Enoki asked breathlessly as he reached the villagers on the road.

Cygnus chuckled and laid his firm hands on either of his shoulders.

“Enoki, boy, someday you’ll understand… That someone as unpredictable as you is the most predictable type of person there is…” he answered, shaking his head and gazing into his eyes solemnly, “Inali knew this day was coming, we all did, and I could see yesterday you finally understood. You were never meant to live out your days here. But know this always…”

With his words, Cygnus unveiled a long, bright crimson traveling cloak with a brightly feathered hood and trim which he draped over Enoki’s shoulders.

“Aykwani Village will always be your home…”

Enoki’s breath caught in his chest as the fine cloak settled around him and flared in the cool morning breeze. He tied it close to his chest with reverent hands and stood with a rakish grin up at the Elder.

“A’course Cygnus, dis always gonna be a safe place fah me, an’ you all always gonna be family,” he said with a note of stark pride in his voice.

Cygnus nodded, bowed in respect for the Shaman, and stepped aside to let the others bestow their gifts of sustenance. They joked and laughed with him as they stuffed his pack with jerky and wrapped seed cakes, teasing him about going off into the wild world with nothing to eat, and he easily chortled along with them at his own expense. He walked a grand processional through a dual line of Tauren, hugged his friends, Mokos and Etaha, and all the other young bulls ruffling his hair and punching his shoulders, green with envy but wishing their friend well, and finally reached the totem poles that marked the end of the village.

Cygnus stood proudly before them, commanding attention with his regal presence. He leaned forward on his staff, one hand raised to the heavens, and closed his eyes for a moment of silence before he lifted his great horned head and invoked the spirits with a haunting, gruff Taurahe chant to bless a traveler on his journey. The rest of the congregation answered the mystic verses, asking the Gods to watch over Enoki and guide him always in harmony. Cygnus ended it with a rap of his staff against the earth and turned his smiling countenance back down to the troll.

“We call upon the favor of the Spirits for you, Enoki, son of Aykwani, may the wind guide you, and may you walk with the Earthmother always,” he proclaimed.

Enoki grinned and gave a silent nod. Troll and Tauren alike pounded a fist to their chest and bowed, and Cygnus stepped aside to reveal the long and winding path disappearing far beyond the horizon.

“Follow the road out of Mulgore due East, there you will cross through the mountains and into the Barrens, it is a harsh land, but keep along the road and you will find a Tauren settlement called Camp Taurajo, there they can offer you a place to rest and some food. Then, North along the Gold Road is a place called The Crossroads. And from there… You may chose any of the four cardinal directions to take your journey, then it is entirely up to you,” Cygnus said, watching the excitement brimming in Enoki’s eyes with every word.

“Crossroads eh…? I like de sound’a dat…” he breathed.

The road before him lead to an infinite crossroads, boundless destinations, destiny. He stood between them, his village behind him and the unknown outstretched and waiting for him to take that first step; the first step outside the guardian totems since he had been whisked through as a child, injured and on the back of a speeding Kodo. Azeroth loomed before him a massive and incomprehensibly huge task, but as he sucked in a breath of fresh morning air, gripped the straps of his pack and lifted his foot, the old, trite saying Inali had loved proved ironically true. A journey of one thousand miles began with a single step.

Enoki passed through the protective barrier of the watchful eyes of the Eagle gods and stood, alone and victorious on the road at last. He turned however, to whistle for Zynn to come to his side as well as to give Cygnus one last mischievous grin with a crooked salute.

“Don’ get too bored witout me, ya hear?” he snorted.

“I’m afraid life will be rather quiet now… Without you. We will pray for you every day, and someday, may our fates cross once more. Goodbye, Enoki,” the old Druid replied, echoed by a score of heartfelt farewells.

The emboldened heart beating in the Shaman’s chest swelled, he smiled, and turned over his shoulder with a hand in the air and a flash of red hair.

“Goodbye.”

Enoki looked back no more at his village as he walked, he could feel it growing smaller and smaller in the distance, further and further away from his heart. He no longer belonged in the quiet, peaceful confines of provincial life, instead his head was filled with visions of military outposts of the Barrens, of soldiers and fortune and what he might find once he crossed through the mountain path. He journeyed not for the end, but for the journey itself, and with every step along the marked, worn dirt road his spirit became whole once more.