His weekly sermon over, Maleki silently ushered out his guests through his kitchen and out the back door. There were no clouds in the midnight sky, but the larger of Azeroth’s two moons was new tonight, and the smaller had not yet risen. That meant his listeners could depart through near-pitch-black allies to their own destinations, safe from any prying eyes out this late.
They had listened well, taking in everything Maleki had said and believing it, at least as far as he could tell. Others like him had sent word of dissenters and spies trying to find out his organization’s secrets, but with no success to this point. Maleki felt confident all those who came to his house each week were true believers, but was always careful to keep his guard up. He and his colleagues were too close to their goal to let anything slip now.
At his kitchen table, Maleki wrote a few letters to his colleagues and readied them to send the next day before going upstairs to his private room. Still fully dressed, Maleki laid down on his bed and shut his eyes, knowing sleep wouldn’t come for some time. It rarely did, and he often slept well into the morning. Maleki preferred it this way, though- the darkness of night felt safer, more comfortable than the shining sun. He had left his employment some months before, telling the curious it was because of his health. In truth, he and the others sharing his rank were well provided for by those they answered to. Maleki never asked where the money came from, and he didn’t care. He knew, as they all did, money would soon no longer be of concern to them. Or to anyone else, for that matter.
Soon, Maleki thought to himself, very soon. The supplies from Northrend would arrive in port in a matter of days in small parcels hardly worth notice. Still, Maleki knew, well-placed members of his organization would ensure they made it to Andorhal in confidence. A few days more and shipments would start going out all over Lordaeron. After that, it would be too late to stop what was coming, what had been coming for a long time.
Maleki’s sermons were to prepare the chosen for the future, for their destiny they didn’t until recently know they had. His was a shepherd’s role, watching over his flock and guiding them in their tasks, and he embraced it. Though Maleki longed for a greater calling, for a greater reward, he knew none would come unless he performed his duties with faith and diligence.
From far away the sound of a rooster’s crow came to Maleki’s window, and he realized dawn was approaching. Finally feeling sleep was near, Maleki changed into his dressing gown and got back into bed. He could hear the smithy next door give a loud yawn, then start stoking his fires for the day’s work. He heard the scratching of a cart on cobblestone as a dairy farmer made his morning rounds. His nose picked up the smell of fresh bread dough just put into the oven, and that made him smile. Appropriate, he thought.The last thing Maleki remembered hearing before falling asleep was the butcher yelling at some cats lingering near his door, hoping for some breakfast scraps. His last conscious thought before drifting into slumber was that hungry cats would soon be the least of the butcher’s worries.
