Sisters

In the Mage Tower of Stormwind, the noisy scratchings of a feathered pen disturbed the quiet of the lit hall. Scholars and instructors both left the young woman to her own devices--Charlette was often not considered pleasant company, especially recently. She wrote harshly upon the parchment, surely if it had been sentient, the paper would make known its complaint of her treatment of it. But really, she treated the paper as she treated most people: harshly and with enough attention to suit her interests.

“No, not him. Not that one…” Charlette mumbled out as she scratched out lines of names on the old file. “…bah! This isn’t even the right town…! Urgh!” With that, the parchment was crumpled up and thrown into the wastebasket. Eyeing the dimming torchlight on the wall as if it had insulted her, the mage crinkled her fingers sharply at it, dosing it with summoned fire. It flared to life, crackling in the cold air of the Tower. The woman shook her hands, threw her head back and raged at the Tower’s ceiling.

“Why?! Why, Mother? Why am I doing this?!” she cried. Which really, sounded more like a young girl, whining pitifully. Unanswered, Charlette stared for a few more moments at the ceiling, and let out a long sigh. Her amber eyes turned sharply to a dark corner of the room, and she continued her fit.

“Why don’t you say something then? You’re too quiet!”

The cat rested peacefully on its seat, the only spot of white in the darkness of the corner. A shift, and a pale hand caressed the furry body, to which it stretched out, pleased. As the cat kneaded into the lap of its owner, the figure settled into the back of her mahogany chair, almost inseparable from the unlit corner, clad in black as she was. Her voice was soft as she answered, a shadowy whisper.

“What do you wish for me to say?”

Charlette kept her scowl on her seated companion, until it faltered, and she looked as if she might cry. Instead, she folded her arms across her chest and took in an irritated breath.

“Hmph. You could offer to help me.”

“I thought you wished to carry the request out yourself?” came again, the haunting voice of the mage’s sister. Now two glowing eyes gazed at Charlette, like twin lanterns. This made the mage look away.

“Well, people are incompetent. And the scout I sent over the wall didn’t do her j--”

“You tried to send someone over the Gilnean wall…?”

“She couldn’t get over it. Useless!”

“Charlette. No one can get beyond the wall. It wont matter who you send.”

“You’d think someone from SI:7 could! What do those people train for anyway? Pickpocketing? Spying on people in their homes? How useless!”

“Hush now. Stormwind is not Dalaran, sister.”

“Well that’s obvious!”

Again, silence fell over the Mage Tower, all except for a cat’s rumbling purr. The dark figure slipped out of her seat, gently placing the cat in place of her. Charlette sighed as Annaliese stood behind her. The hood had fallen back from her head--Charlette had grown more comfortable with her sister’s apperance, and actually did not flinch now as her cold fingers lay on her shoulders, a gesture of quiet comfort.

“Mother is wrong. Quintun is lost, with father. Along with the entirety of Gilneas! I must be insane for even looking…” Charlette spoke softly, unlike her usual callous tone. She felt her sister’s hands touch her hair and cradle it, just as their mother used to do. The young mage’s coldness seemed to break down, and all in one moment, Charlette held to the cold hands that comforted her, much like a child would.

“You want to please Mother, as I’m sure you always have, Charlette. She tasked you to find me, which you have, didn’t you? Now, have a little hope like she did. Maybe our brother is alive, yes?”

Sniffles and small whimpers came from the younger sister now, until she let go of the hands, and patted her face dry. Charlette batted her sister’s fingers away shortly after, fixing her with a bleary stare.

“Stop it. I’m not a child!”

The ghost-like woman could only smile, and let her hands fall in front of her, clasping her fingers together demurely. Charlette was…many things. But to Anna now, she was a lonely, stressed young lady. She watched as the girl rose from her own chair, glancing at her.

“The correct census could have been sent to Stormwind, or Lordaeron…who knows? Probably with much of the reports scattered in between. Why don’t you ask him about the census?”

Anna smirked a bit, innocently replying, “Whom?”

Charlette blinked at her sister, and then expelled a weary groan. “You know exactly who I mean.”

“Niklos?”

“Yes. That,” was the curt, unimpressed answer.

“My husband.”

“…whatever. Yes, him.”

Anna grinned a bit now, her glowing eyes glowing subtley.

“Your brother-in-law?”

“Yes. My broth---gah! What? No! That…stop it!”

Anna’s soft laugh hovered in the Wizard’s tower, long after Charlette’s childish glare had passed. She gave her sister a gentle hug, despite the grouchy countenance.

“We’ll figure things out, Charlette. I’ll help…you just have to…ask.”

“So you’ll do what I tell you, yes?”

“Well. Under reason…”

Charlette fixed her with a serious, almost worried look.

“Stay more. With me. And…stop being a warlock.”

“…what?”

“I need your help more! With…things! And I’ll hate you forever if you’ve sworn you’re bloody soul to Kil’Jaeden or something…”

“Charlette…”

“You could become a mage. I’ll even let you share my wardenship in the Violet Hold. It’s such a noble task, suitable for a Handhour. And I wouldn’t be so ashamed of you then, being what you are. Think of what you could become!”

A sigh left the elder sister. “I don’t think I would be the greatest fit, Charlette…”

“Oh..fiddlesticks. I could train you to be competent.”

By now, Annaliese was nearly at the other end of the Tower, exiting, quite hurriedly. “I’ll be…elsewhere, sister. Call me when you need me.”

“Where are you going?”

“To the Cathedral.”

“You can’t go in there!”

“Probably not now, no. I have studies there.”

Charlette stopped mid-step, just in front of the portal.

“You’re…becoming a priest?”

“Oh yes. I hold sermons there every night.”

“…what? Every night? Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

A laugh fled Anna once again, as she slid her hood back up around her head. “You’re completely gullible, sister.”

“I…don’t like you.”