Faith Betrayed

A young Night Elf priestess comes face-to-face with the most difficult decision of her life, endangering the lives of all she holds dear.

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4. Murder in the Temple

“High Priestess, come quickly!”

 

Startled from her sleep, Siralen gasped and sat upright.

 

“What is it, Sister Firlande?”

 

The older priestess had tears in her eyes, and was shaking. “It’s Prelate Ceylana! She was found dead this afternoon in the gardens!”

 

Siralen sat stunned in disbelief. Although she had had a bitter row with her friend, the thought that something evil would befall her tore at her heart. Siralen began crying, but managed to get herself up and properly attired before following the distraught Firlande.

 

Although the sun was setting, Siralen had to blink several times as she stepped out into daylight. There on the ground, exactly where they had stood the previous night, was Ceylana’s body, strewn in a pool of blood. Siralen began to shake violently at the sight, cursing herself for what had happened.

 

“High Priestess Siralen.” The man’s voice was deep and soothing. High Ranger Relarion bowed before her. He stared at her solemnly. “We found the murder weapon in the nearby bushes. It was a priestess’s glaive.”

 

He held the object out for Siralen’s inspection. Her brow creased at the sight of it, for it bore the markings of High Priestess Dejahna’s own personal guard.

 

Before she could speak, Relarion voiced her concern himself. “We’ve sent out messengers to Suramar as well as to the palace. The High Priestess and the Queen should be arriving some time during the night. Until then, we will clean up the place and ensure that it is presentable for the Queen’s arrival. And in the meantime, I would urge you to try and get some rest will you still may.” He placed a hand over his heart and bowed again before moving to speak with a group of grieving priestesses.

 

Siralen nodded in acknowledgement and gratitude, but pursed her lips. Nothing was as it seemed anymore. All the people she loved and respected, everything she ever held dear, seemed to be failing, tearing apart at the seams like a thinly woven veil. That High Priestess Dejahna might somehow have been implicated in the murder of her best friend not only seemed unlikely, but impossible. She would never stoop so low! And there could be no reasoning in it at all.

 

Siralen’s head was spinning. Instead of spending time in prayer, she went back to her room and laid down in her bed. Staring up at the ceiling, a thousand thoughts began to course through her mind about everything that had been happening to her over the past years. She had done much to help restore Quel’Dormir Temple into a beautiful place of meditation and worship, and her renown had spread throughout the empire, eventually attracting Queen Azshara’s personal attention.

 

Until yesterday, she had thought she had reached the pinnacle of her calling. Now she wished she had remained an ordinary priestess, without renown or recognition, barely noticed by the masses.

 

She shut her eyes and drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

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