(2025-03-12) Little One

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Author:	Saaron
Summary:	While she was absent from Squads, Iphindra trained as more than a healer, preparing for the next time her help would be necessary.
Rating:	T for Teen

Iphindra sleeps peacefully in a corner of the forest of Hyjal, resting her back against a tree. All of the hurt this land has suffered again, she felt it. While helping her sisters, she realized healing wasn’t enough anymore. All these times in the Squad she was incompetent and failed to defend herself, those were long gone now. She perfected her use of the spear among the dryads and by participating in games at the Argent Tournament grounds, learning to move swiftly and strike better than ever before.

And then, often, she rested. Sleeping peacefully, resting her back against a tree. In those moments, she wasn’t done learning, and making an effort into strengthening her powers.

“Again,” Faeryn said, floating incorporeally next to Iphindra. “Remember your experiment with that human…”

“Mordecai?”

“His name is of no importance to me, little one,” Faeryn scoffed. “You felt horror, and realized that horror came from an apprehension of loss, right?”

Iphindra nodded.

“That is balance. I need you to tap into that, and yet, I need you to also tap into so much more,” Faery explained. “There are endless dichotomies in the world around us, all united in one; the sun and the moons.”

“I know, y- you’ve explained this already. I must… let my spirit freely flow be-between the two, to gather th- their energy.”

Iphinra almost threw herself to the ground, in a sitting position, with her head resting against her knees. The Emerald Dream seemed to slightly lose a bit of its colors around her.

“I- I just don’t really know how to do that…” Iphindra said, looking up at Faeryn. “There’s… all these emotions I don’t really know. I don’t really know how to feel. And you say I need to find them to fight as a druid? How?”

Faeryn looked at Iphindra, with an expression that almost seemed like sadness. That was not quite it, however. Her ears droop, but she slightly bit her lower lip, and her eyebrows raised, upturned.

“Listen, little one,” Faeryn kneeled down to Iphindra’s level. “I’m unhappy at the thought that you’d want to be a fighter, or learn all these negative emotions.” She tried to run her ghost-like, ethereal fingers through Iphindra’s hair. “You’re everything I’ve always wished to be.” She got up again, floating above the ground and snapping her fingers. “However, if that is what you desire. You’re getting up. Now. There is no time to wallow in self-pity.”

Iphindra obeyed, getting up to her feet almost immediately. She hadn’t forgotten that people love obedience. Faeryn placed her forehead against Iphindra’s.

“Take some of my anger, take my pain, take my sadness, and take my fears, I’m filled to the brim with them,” Faeryn’s body flickered, but didn’t fully disappear. Iphindra felt a wave of emotions wash over her. Anger for the Kaldorei’s strict traditions, a fear of being stuck, unable to be who she was meant to become. Those were easier to identify, now. She also felt a sadness, one that was inexplicable. A sadness of loss, but a loss of what? She wasn’t sure. And there was a fear, too, deep in there, a fear that she would be caught for something she did that was wrong. What it was, however, was a mystery. By unlocking these emotions, she felt closer to the Emerald Dream than ever, more present within it. She felt the creatures surrounding them, their emotions, their inner life seemed clearer than ever. Their dreams came to her, in their joy in their pain. In their fear and their hope. The plants, the animals, the people, the sun, and the moons, they all felt opposite, complementary, and one and the same. Faeryn took a step back. “Not all of it. I still want to be there to protect you. Don’t become jagged and cynical, little one. Don’t grow up too fast.”

Faeryn planted a kiss on Iphindra’s forehead, feeling closer and more tangible than ever.

“Now. As I said, again,” Faeryn orderer her, waiting for her to prove her magical prowess again.

As she awoke, later, Iphindra had a better understanding of her powers over nature. She looked at a strand of her hair, resting against her shoulder. A handful had turned purple, like Faeryn’s. She calmly, gently stroked the purple hair strand.

So now, oftentimes, Iphindra is seen, resting her back against a tree, practicing with that Faeryn, her opposite, her complementary self, what seems like a part of her.