Soothe my heart, dear Light,
Meet me in this place.
Calm this warrior’s soul,
Be ever present with Your Grace.
In this quiet, I bask in Your rays.
In the cold and cloudy dark,
You are my Sun, always.
My heart, my soul, body, and mind,
I have dedicated to thee,
Be the solace in no other source will I find.
Steel my heart for battle, O Light.
Still my quaking soul.
For at any time war calls for my might,
Keep me focused, keep me whole.
In this quiet, I bask in Your rays.
In the cold and cloudy dark,
You are my Sun, always.
My heart, my soul, body, and mind,
I have dedicated to thee,
Be the solace in no other source will I find.
A man in his early thirties sat in a quiet room with a prayer book open on the chair next to him, both hands pressed together in meditation. Laying next to the prayer book was a summons to service with the royal seal of the Kingdom of Stormwind seen clearly on the parchment.
He was ruddy and sunkissed, typical of a man who had traveled long or spent many days working the fields, and the lilting, drawling accent that coloured his low tenor indicated that he was a native of Westfall. His hands were rough, as if though he had been steering the ox and plough or spent many days mastering the art of the Shield and Warhammer, and his ice-blue eyes glowed faintly with the very Light he had dedicated his life to. Sandy blonde hair cropped short and close to his scalp framed his face, matching a neatly trimmed beard and moustache, and a few scars from various battles he had participated in decorated what skin his simple off-duty clothing exposed.
And if I fall before I once more rise,
May I stay ever loyal to you.
If the deepest darkness take my eyes,
Light, keep my paths true.
In this quiet, I bask in Your rays.
In the cold and cloudy dark,
You are my Sun, always.
My heart, my soul, body, and mind,
I have dedicated to thee,
Be the solace in no other source will I find.
A polite knock was heard on the door leading to the room.
“Paladin Eleazar Abraham?”
The paladin raised his head from his meditations and responded with a calm: “Yes? Come in.”
A young man wearing the uniform of the Darkshire Night Watch opened the door and regarded the paladin with a salute. Eleazar stood up and returned the salute.
“Mayor Ebonlocke sent me to inform you that the military dispatch that requested your presence has arrived in Darkshire and is setting up camp for the night just outside of town,” the watchman reported. “They will be expecting you.”
Eli carefully removed his sermon book from his satchel as he listened, then replied with a confirming nod. “Thank you, watchman. I will report to the dispatch captain at first light.” The paladin then turned and saluted at the young watchman, and dismissed him.
He took a moment to inspect his notes for the night’s sermon, and prepared his formal wear for the night, smoothing out the sign of his clerical affiliation – a black tabard with the silver sun of the Argent Dawn. As he donned his clerical shirt and collar, Eli’s thoughts wandered between his meditation poem and how the message of balance he preached had been regarded by the various congregations he presented to since the Argent Dawn allowed him to start his riding circuit.
Before he became a member of the Argent Dawn, Eli had been written off as one of “Tirion’s Paladins”; paladins that served and protected the helpless and the weak with honour, regardless of a person’s faction or race. He was also a follower of the controversial “Mograine’s Epiphany”, a philosophy developed by the late Highlord of the Scarlet Crusade, Alexandros Mograine – a philosophy that preached that Light did not exist without the Dark, and that both balanced each other by turning into their own antithesis over time. Without the credibility and support of an organization as large and as powerful as the Argent Dawn, such teachings of the Light practiced by men like Mograine and Fordring would have chased him out of many towns as both a heretic and a traitor. As a functioning cleric of the Dawn, however, congregations were a bit more willing to lend him their ears (be it somewhat grudgingly from the more traditional practitioners of the Light) after what the Argent Dawn had done in the defence of the World during the Great Scourge Invasion heralding the arrival of the dread ziggurat, Naxxramas.
After buckling the tabard into place, Eli gathered up his notes and his books, and then stepped out of the Scarlet Raven Tavern and into the cool night air. He watched at the threshold of the tavern while parishioners of the local congregation gathered in the town hall (as it also served as the town’s chapel), along with a few of the soldiers that had come to town with the dispatched column of troops. After a moment of observation, he walked out into the street to follow the parishioners into the hall, but stopped before colliding with a nearly-absent minded young woman wearing the uniform of the Night Watch. It only took an instant for Eli to recognize the young watchwoman.
“Well, howdy, Miss Ladimore,” Eli greeted gently with a kind and forgiving smile.
For a moment, Watcher Ladimore’s gaze looked past Eli, and she only replied, “How d’ya do, Father Eli …” before snapping to attention with a grimace and a sigh. “Light. I’m so sorry, Eleazar … I nearly ran you over, didn’t I?”
Eli remained understanding. “It’s alright, Miss Sarah. What’s happened in the past few days hasn’t been easy fer ya in the very least.”
Sarah Ladimore shook her head, clearly struggling to stay composed. “I became a watcher because of him, you know, Eleazar … after everything that’s happened, I just wish …”
“Calm, Miss Sarah, calm,” Eli coaxed, offering a hand for the young watchwoman to hold. She grasped onto it, and he could feel the minute quiver in her arm. “You are doin’ your father’s good name a good service as a watcher, Miss Sarah. Now that we’ve put him to rest at last, the best thing you can do for him now is to move on.”
“I … I know,” the young woman replied, slowly gaining back her composure. “I just keep thinking about how lonely it is out there for him in these dark times. After what you did for him—”
“Miss Sarah. It’s my duty as a servant of the Light. Thanks are welcomed, but it’s not needed.” Eli smiled reassuringly. “Besides, he was my commanding officer during the Third War, Miss Sarah. Lending a hand in calming his soul was the very most I could do to honour his good heart and memory.”
Sarah nodded and smiled appreciatively. The seconds floated by as her expression withdrew into fond reverie for a fleeting moment of sanctuary.
“You’d best get started with your sermon, Eleazar,” she whispered eventually, with a sad smile. “Last thing you need to be is late.”
Eli returned her smile and gave her a moment to let go of his hand before heading inside the town hall.
Strength of steel, tender as a dove,
Like a wolf, may my spirit be fierce.
A lion’s heart steadfast and filled with love,
Rays of light through the dark clouds pierce.
The town Archivist, Daltry, waved kindly to Eli as he walked into the town hall. The aged clerk and the young preacher had become fast friends while Eli had been doing some research on the region of Duskwood and its inhabitants. In between Eli’s delvings into Duskwood’s lore and the paladin’s investigations into a few of the region’s mysteries, Daltry and Eli often conversed over their shared appreciation for history.
In the hall proper, the congregation had settled into their seats after singing a few well-known hymns of the Light, and there was the audible murmur in the room as parishioners exchanged a few more moments of small talk before the service would begin. Already, Eli could feel a number of individual glares and glances as he walked up to the pulpit. The room finally fell silent as he arranged his notes on the lectern and led the congregation in opening prayer.
In this quiet, I bask in Your rays.
In the cold and cloudy dark,
You are my Sun, always.
My heart, my soul, body, and mind,
I have dedicated to thee,
Be the solace in no other source will I find.
Eli paused a moment before starting the sermon, as it was based on a rather delicate subject, especially so for the people present.
“Good eve’nin, brothers and sisters in the Light,” he finally began. “I will say beforehand that I am certain tonight’s sermon will stretch what you may know about how the Light works for those who serve it, and it may even challenge what you have become familiar with.”
The preacher immediately sensed the added edges that crept into the gazes of some of the listeners. He remained unperturbed.
“For example: Does it really abandon us in our deepest need? Or do we simply allow our own darkness to shut out the Light’s voice?” He made a brief pause, mostly for dramatic effect. “To better understand this concept, I will present the case of one Morgan Ladimore … and the redemption for those like him.”
Oh, Light.
Be the solace in no other source will I find.
Be the solace in no other source will I find.
---
Originally written by TheKittyLizard
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