An oaken staff bit deeply into the bit of gravel and dirt which composed the edge of the cave, as well as Lake Waha's shoreline. A young Murloc leaned upon it, his purely white eyes shimmering in the dark starlight. It was daytime; yet, the lagoon's magic, combined with the darkness of the cave, shone the night sky upon the ceiling as though it were a mirror. And the Spirits watched over it all.
Lugulh craned his head about, facing the lake. It glistened before him, beneath the black light of the sky-ceiling, in the black marsh. What a beautiful space to live... What a wondrous fluke, to find it. Lake Waha was both his home, and the Spirits', for they watched over it as a hive would a queen. And now, they whispered to him; inaudible feelings, a sending of emotions rather than message. As it were, they were happy of him. They felt his honesty, his pure, able character. They felt within and without, along the spines, his innermost sanctums... He let them worm and writhe about, to judge, to test-- Mlurgal laid a hand upon his friend's back, rustling the spines as Lugulh twisted about. What could have been wrong? It had been days since they had come to this new land; still, Lugulh hadn't left the bed for even a meal. There were bad feelings about this place, evil, terrible things. Things that changed his child... Things that made them all mad... Made them leave. And now...
He placed a hand upon Lugulh's head, dabbed it with fresh water - Was it fresh? - But nothing would help. And so a silent vigil he sat, with Ghama at his side, tending to his ailing friend. If only--
The Spirits stood before Lugulh. His stomach hurt. His mind ached. But a firm grip he kept upon that black-oak staff, a lifeline. The Spirits had conferred, and now was the time for judgment. He gripped the staff tighter, as they spoke their verdict. No, not a spoken verdict; more, a pulse of thought and emotion. It cocooned about Lugulh, enveloped and cradled him within cheer and life. For it was true. The Spirits were happy with their messenger. Their seer.
'COME,' they pulsed. A light exploded within the Murloc's eyes, and again they spoke, louder this time--
Mlurgal flew back as Lugulh pushed himself up, a devilish light within his eyes. For they had changed, now, from their simplistic red, the black slitted pupil, to a solid, glimmering white. And, in a flash of shadow, so did the scales; blue, to black, green, to purple... He was changed in a matter of moments, before Mlurgal's excited gaze.
Lugulh slowed his breathing to a murmur, and stood up. Mlurgal was at his side in a flash of colour, but Lugulh shrugged him off; holding a hand to the skies, in a similar flash, appeared the black-oak staff. Lugulh took it within his grasp. A roar of triumph erupted from the Spirits, the lake, the entire area. The Murloc raised his arms, the staff above his head, and roared in answer.
'What did you do?' Mlurgal questioned.
Lugulh grinned in answer, but Mlurgal did not understand.
'Mlurgal, there is much in your mind that needs to change, if we are to live here,' he replied. The orange Murloc simply hung his head to the side. 'This is not a place of evil, my friend. There is MUCH about Lake Waha that you don't understand.'
'But... No, not you as well, Lugu--'
A finger upon Mlurgal's lips.
'There are Spirits here, Mlurgal. But they mean us no harm. And no more should you call me Lugulh.'
Mlurgal stared towards Lugulh in horror.
'Then what is your name? And what do you mean?!'
'My name...?' The Oracle blinked, and bowed his head towards Mlurgal affectionately. 'I am Tli'Waha. The Guardian of Lake Waha.'
Tli'Waha's hand removed itself from Mlurgal's chin. 'Now come,' he said. 'There is much to teach.'
(( Edit note: I should have put this into Literature. : / I apologize sincerely. Is it possible to move it? ))
It's been moved.