Mataoka stood frozen. This diminutive elf of a dragon's son was obviously not what he tried to make himself seem -- a diplomat, an ambassador, a far-fallen acorn from a catastrophic tree. He was the growth, the spawn of death incarnate. His fine silks and embroidered speech gave the appearance of avoiding taint or suspicion. But Mataoka's instincts bubbled and boiled in her heart, though she did what she could to quiet them. She squelched them for her own gains.
He sent for her, and made her feel like the only one in the world he trusted, that was worthy of this quest.
She brought him what he asked for, a Chimera of Fear. A chimera? That is odd -- a chimera is an amalgamation of many mythical creatures--she supposed -- one of fear? What did I just hand over to him? What did I receive in return?
He offered her three choices: one, clearly for healing and spell casting. One for strength and power. And one for agility. Mataoka could not breath: not a single one represented who she was.
She herself was a chimera--created for agility, and groomed for healing. How could she possibly choose one, when she was so much more than that?
No matter what choice it would be the wrong one. What was wrong, what was wrong? How did a gift feel so much like a debt, a price of a piece of her heart, her soul?
She chose the prize for deftness, agility. That was her instinct, and she chose to listen to this small, uncomfortable voice.
"I know nothing,"she admitted to herself. "And if I know nothing, I can help no one, not even myself."
Mataoka never felt so alone.
Operation Shieldwall: http://wow.joystiq.com/tag/operation-shieldwall/
Wrathion: http://www.wowpedia.org/Wrathion
It's all rather disquieting if you ask me. Everywhere you go his "people" are milling about ... it's like they are waiting for the go-ahead to do something. Hostile takeover? Who can say.
ReplyDeleteVery uncomfortable - he must be playing both sides against the other. Nothing good can come of this.
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