I tried to write a general aftermath of recent events from Jaelen's PoV to try and offer some sort of insight into the workings of the character. I'm not all that happy with what came out, but here it is anyway! Hope you enjoy.
Naught save the gentle, distant chatter of a care-free bird within the canopy disturbed the peace of Lord Jaelen Sunwhisper's medatative state. About him, the calm of Duskwither Spire's Grounds rested thick upon the air. Mana serpents dance lazily though the air, caught by their own adoration as they flit amongst each other's company, and the gentle waves of the Great Eastern Ocean lap at ease against the soft, sandy shore. "It is done." thought the voice of Jaelen's mind, as he shifts his weight a little upon the wide, spring-time lawn beneath the Spire itself. "Lord Sunwing is dead and buried. It's time I allowed myself to move on."
Gently scintilating within the centre of his countenance, Jaelen's fel-green eyes open, turning down to regard the funeral garb he's donned since the memorial ceremony itself the previous evening. Turning his eyes up to the azure-blue sky, a smile touches upon his lips, just a gentle little curl. "He'll be in a better place, no doubt." It was curious, the connection between Sunwing and Sunwhisper, even before the betrothal of the last of the Sunwhisper line to Sunwing's heir. Somehow, both had known, on some level - that together they would defy all natural laws to save Quel'thalas from it's fate. Nothing, not even Time itself, would stand against the Children of Blood. "We have lost too much. No more. This I vow, with the Holy Light as my witness." Jaelen uttered within his mind, the last few words passing his lips instead of remaining in privacy, as his eyes are drawn level.
More and more frequently, the Magister of Silvermoon had found himself forced to take meditation. Although the Sunwell burned once again, and those who had the strength to do so, had re-attuned themselves with it's blessed energies, there was nothing that could sate the thirst of the Sun-Fever. With this thought present in his mind, Jaelen turned his thoughts to the last child of his line, and the first of the new Sunwing House. Ever would that child bear his mark - the thirst of his Sun-Fever. "I will not allow it to pass." He remarked, voice passing over the lands gifted to him and his line just the other day. "I will give you more strength than the Sun King. I will find you better teaching than the Grand Magister. I will see you fight with more strength than the Ranger-General." His eyes closed, sealing their fel-green light from view. Within the Sin'dorei, a hunger clawed at his mind, returning the thought, desire, lust for mana to his mind. That hunger which he must not allow to pass his line any further.
His head bowed forwards, the mark of shooting pain unconsealed as it stabs across his features, eyes clamped shut. "I will endure. This comes first." Turning his attentions upwards, one last time, Lord Sunwhisper nods his head, resting his slender fingers against the hilt of a glorious, ancient magical blade as it hangs from his belt, taken earlier from the Sunwing Vault to replace his staff. "Phantaz must wait. The Oracle will be patient. I do not accept my fate any longer." Bringing himself to full height, Jaelen's suddenly imposing figure is met with the distant rumble of waves against rocks, a crashing spray peppering the distant shore. Far above him, the curiously talented brown-feathered bird swoops through the air, diving down to sweep around Jaelen's form, his robes taken by the motion and swept upwards as if in the wind, as his hair is blown back from his features. Within his eyes, there lingers a distant power, as even with the Sin'dorei's commanding stance, blade sheathed, enchanted staff held tight within the other hand, his skin and features remain pale and sickly. Yet in those eyes, there lingers the fire of the Sin'dorei that this Magister could become. To become the Spellbreaker General, Magister-Lord of Quel'thalas, Overseer of the Sancta in Sunwing's place. The Sun will rise. The Moon will fall. The Sun will fall. The Moon will rise. Until Judgement Day.
