"It seems it wasn't the Proudmoores who engineered our delay, nor were they aware, or at least did not approve, of it." Admiral Candren drawled languidly as he entered the parlour and passed his coat to his guard, not doing more than glancing at each of us – with a raised brow in mine and Trix's case – before starting to discuss matters with Darius. "Lady Katherine was most put out that we were not present to attend a meeting she had organised to discuss combined efforts to support the refugee population."
"A shame, to be sure." Darius replied as he poured his friend a drink and bid that he sit. "Merely engaging with an Alliance wide initiative, in support of the Alliance's people, would have given momentum we are sorely lacking at present."
Rolling his eyes theatrically, Admiral Candren let out an amused huff. "I suspect the Lady Proudmoore's primary complaint was that she was unable to secure more of our surplus grain rather than having to place her own stores on the line. If not access to those responsible for its production; there were a number of questions about our witches she put forward I was ill suited to answer."
My ears perked up at the mention of witches, but rather than addressing me he was entirely focused on Darius.
If anything, he seemed to be putting an effort into not looking at the two girls sitting on the floor with their hands shoved into a pile of dirt, gravel, and rocks. Which would have been amusing if it hadn't distracted me from the progress I'd been making.
"Or perhaps to learn how to seek out their own witches, as Gwyneth did." Darius offered, taking a sip of his drink. "Though that bodes well for our negotiating position on that front; if she is asking, they have not yet succeeded."
Shaking my head and trying to ignore the two noble's conversation – I was practising and Darius would give me the details later – I refocused on what I'd figured out so far. Some aspects of the elements were obvious to any who thought upon them: Where Water would adapt and change course, Earth stood steadfast and endure. Where Air was fickle and fleeting, Earth was ancient and unchanging.
But that wasn't the whole of it.
Earth did change, just not by its own hands – and it did not resent that change. Here, in Ironforge, Khaz Modan itself welcomed the works of the dwarves and the artifice they wrought. The effort and artistry put forth by generations to make their mountain home something more, something greater, than it had been before their arrival.
Patience, effort, and purpose, those were the key to what I wanted here.
Air had come to me on its own after I met it with Caedan, a friend that danced in and out as and when they wished, whereas Water had only come to me when I immersed myself in its flow with Vivi, dancing with her in the river and following the steps it offered us.
Glancing at my girlfriend where she lay sprawled out on a settee, as she watched me practise, I blushed slightly at the memory. And then more as her eyes caught mine and she smiled and moved to stretch. Red hair flowed, falling in front of her face, only to be pushed away by a sharp puff of air; she was just... enticingly dishevelled.
Moments later she yawned and laid back down, a little grin pulling at her lips as she settled in with one eye open to watch what I was doing.
Which was... right, focusing. On Earth, and how to form a connection to it, which had been derailed twice now. Letting out a soft sigh I turned away from Vivi and back to my work; or at least my thoughts on it.
Plucking the warmest, and most comfortable, of the stones from the pile I turned it over in my hand. I didn't have Caedan and Featherstorm showing me the Wind this time, nor did I have Vivi leading me through a dance to find Water. Reaching Earth wasn't out of reach, the general direction laid out well enough, but I wasn't going to get anywhere without some showing of dedication, putting in the effort, to show I was worth paying attention to.
Rather than days, or weeks, I'd be lucky if it was months instead of years, if not straight up decades. It wasn't like I figured out how to communicate with my little breeze, let alone directing it usefully, soon after it had come to me. That had taken years on its own.
Having a guide like I'd had before, someone to show me the way or lead me to a spirit or elemental of Earth would make things so much easier and faster... but I didn't. And as enticing as the idea of asking one of the Frostwolf shamans for help was, they wouldn't go for it. Or if they did, the concessions to get them to go for it would cost too much.
No, this was another long term project to work on in my idle time. And if I had my thoughts right, a reason to get some carving tools and try and learn a new skill. Something to do when I didn't feel like knitting or sewing.
"My name is Trix!" My apprentice snapped, breaking me out of my thoughts to find her glaring and pointing a pointing a dirt covered finger at Darius. "I didn't want to see anymore princes or princesses, but you made me! So at least call me the right name!"
Looking between them I tried to draw up whatever Darius had been saying that I'd not really been paying attention to, and it'd bee that... his meeting with Varian hadn't been conclusive?
Admiral Candren snorted at Trix's outburst. "As amusing as the regular byplay has been, when did you intend to inform her she can make the name official if she fills out a deed poll?" He gestured at Darius with his glass. "You're her lord, you can sign the damn thing to authorise it. Parents or no parents."
"I had made the assumption that her refusal to so meant she wished to be called by her birth name." Darius' moustache quirked as he smiled, his eye shining with mirth as he turned to Trix. "Still, if that is not the case..."
"It's not!" She snapped angrily, glaring at Darius' overly blatant facade of innocence with narrowed eyes. "What's a 'deed poll'?"
Darius chuckled. "Something I will help you with before our return to Gilneas, my dear Trix. So long as you continue with you exceptional efforts of course – on which note." He pulled a letter out of his coat. "Not only did you successfully charm Prince Anduin, Trix, but you did so in a manner that has caused King Wrynn to ask your aid in managing a play date between the young prince and Princess Lianne at lunch three days hence."
Trix's anger shifted to apprehension quickly, and she slumped as her fate was plainly sealed. "Okay." She said piteously, not trying to protest. "I'll go with you."
"I'm afraid not." Darius shook his head. "I'm afraid Archmage Antonidas requested I discuss the matter of Gilneas' border with Dalaran, or its remains, at the same time. A commitment I am unable to reschedule easily."
My apprentice's eyes widened, then shot to Admiral Candren for a moment, to which he immediately scoffed. Seeing her look to him before me... actually hurt. And made me feel guilty over the amusement I got from tormenting her with her fear of royalty – she didn't see me as keeping her safe from the because of it.
"Three days?" Vivi groaned, rubbing her eyes and forehead as she sat up. "Promised some dwarves to take down a yeti preying on their herds then..." She grimaced and practically fell out of her seat to pull me into a hug. "Wanna make an adventure of it." She murmured into my ear.
I could tell I was beet red when I turned to Trix, Vivi hanging off my neck and nuzzling me in an awkward display of affection as I met my apprentice's eyes. The pleading I saw there, the fear, almost made me wince.
However pleasant Vivi's closeness was, seeing Trix so scared was like ice down my spine. It wasn't funny anymore – her fear of child princes and princesses was one thing, but this would be sending my not even a teenager apprentice off to deal with full blown adult royalty too. Even if they weren't present for long, or only observers, it would be cruel and I wasn't going to do that to her.
No matter how much I'd like to indulge Vivi and her plan for a little 'adventure' for the two of us. "Sorry Vivi, it'll have to be another time." I told her, patting her hand and leaning into her as the nuzzling stopped. "I've only got my meeting with Kael'thas tomorrow, unless Envoy Stonehallow comes through with one for King Magni, so I'll be there to keep an eye on things." Honestly, I wouldn't mind it either. "I'm sure Pricess Lianne would enjoy a fox ride again too; Princess Tess certainly would if she was here."
Vivi let out a disgruntled huff and disentangled herself from me. "Gonna go to bed." She mumbled, rubbing at her forehead again and stumbling off.
-oOoOo-
"Your Highness, on behalf of His Majesty, King Liam Greymane, I welcome you to the Gilnean embassy in Ironforge." Darius offered with a deep bow as Prince Kael'thas was brought into what passed for our foyer – a foyer with barely enough room for even the minimal staff Darius and Admiral Candren had brought, let alone the receptions offered to royalty back in Gilneas. "Our hospitality is yours in its totality."
Smaller than it could have been or not, I found myself impressed by the effort that had gone into this visit. Everything was of course spotless, the previously dwarven decorations had been replaced with ones more fitting for a Gilnean residence, and our cooks had been sleeping in shifts to ensure there were refreshments deserving of the name available.
I'd even caught Mordred plying Trix with sweets to source fresh fruits to use as toppings for her cakes, and to press into juices to offer as drinks.
Dipping his head, Kael'thas offered the faintest of smiles. "My thanks, Lord Crowley. I have little doubt that my visit shall be a pleasant one." He gestured to one of his escorts, a farstrider woman by her leathers and the bow on her back, and she took out a small gilded box that vibrated with warm, vitalising, magic. "Please, take this gift and with it my congratulations to King Liam and Queen Lorna on their marriage."
Taking the box, Darius opened it with a click, revealing a pair of golden necklaces each with a large carnelian cut into the shape of a heart that glowed with an inner light.
"Magister Voren'thal will explain the enchantments placed on the periapts in more detail." Kael'thas offered after a moment. "But be assured, they will see to the health of their majesties in all but the most dire circumstances. May their reign be a long and prosperous one."
Another name that tickled the back of my mind, reminding me of all the things I'd managed to forget – a far too familiar, and so very irritating sensation. One that told me I needed to, yet again, go over my notes in detail and record anything and everything that I hadn't already put into writing – nevermind that I'd done that three times while we had been sailing, or another time during our stay in Gnomeregan...
And I'd probably derailed half already. There was going to come a point where I wasn't much of a prophet anymore, and each time that niggling feeling came it felt just that much closer to happening.
"A princely gift indeed." Darius said solemnly, closing the box and passing it off to Admiral Candren. "I shall convey it to them alongside your congratulations."
Nodding, Kael'thas began to look across the rest of the foyer's occupants. His face managed to be both warm and welcoming, but also impassive at the same time – undoubtedly a practised facade, yet without any sign of it being one.
I dipped into a second curtsy as his gaze paused on me. "It is good to see you again, Prince Kael'thas. I hope the days since King Magni's speech have treated you as well as them have me."
"The hospitality offered by Ironforge and the Bronzebeard clan has, thus far, been impeccable." He answered easily, the warmth of his expression growing as he smiled. Though his companions, at least the farstrider with her pinched face, didn't share the sentiment – Voren'thal remained stoically unreadable. "If you would indulge my curiosity, might you introduce the young woman at your side?"
"My partner, Vivianne Mistmantle, Your Highness." I said, taking Vivianne's hand in mine and smiling widely. "Daughter of the late Lord Mistmantle who fought against the Scourge in defence of the Greymane Wall, and, in my biased opinion, the best Gilnean swordswoman alive."
Even keeping my eyes forward on Kael'thas, Vivi's embarrassed glare was palpable. If mainly through the squeezing of my hand that threatened to make my bones creak if I stopped reinforcing them.
Kael'thas eyebrows rose steadily, and then he let out a short laugh. "A claim many young lovers make. Yet, for you to have made it, there must be some truth to the claim." He turned to his escort. "Jalinde, why don't you test the Lady Mistmantle's skills during our visit?"
Jalinde, the farstrider, looked at her prince with a repressed grimace. "If that is what you wish, Prince Kael'thas."
"It is rare for a human to blend skill with a blade and spellcraft." Magister Voren'thal said curiously, his eyes sparking with arcane energy as he stared at Vivianne. "I would not be unwilling to referee such an exhibition were it to happen."
"I will see a space space prepared, though it shall have to be in the storage caverns." Darius said smoothly. "Now, Your Highness, if you would follow me to the parlour?"
-oOoOo-
"I apologise for separating you from your partner, Gwyneth." Kael'thas offered contritely, his impassive facade relaxing visibly as the door to the parlour sealed shut with Darius, Vivi, and everyone else outside. "It was not my intention to deprive you of support as we spoke, but you presented an opportunity to divest myself of my escort." His eyes began to droop and his ears dipped tiredly. "The calamity that has befallen my people has done nothing to reduce the reasons why I departed for, and remained in, Dalaran for such a length of time."
The shift in attitude the moment the door shut was, frankly, a little baffling. Not quite as much as the over the top display of gratitude he had given me before King Magni's speech, but still baffling.
"It's fine," I said, waving off his apology, "I didn't expect her to be here anyway. I might trust her, but you've no reason to anymore than you trust your escorts." Which, thinking about it for a moment, was probably more than just a dislike of being escorted. "They're spies, aren't they?"
Letting out an effusive sigh, he nodded sombrely. "Unfortunately so. My time, and yours, is too precious to spend frivolously. In the minds of some misguided fools this very meeting is frivolous–" his lips slowly curled into a dark grimace, "–for what could oh-so distant and simple, ignorant, Gilneas offer the proud Quel'Dorei?"
The disdain in his voice for the name of his own people was palpable. "Things didn't go well in Quel'Thalas, did they. 'Not enough, never enough'." I sighed, quoting his own words.
"What occurred in Quel'Thalas cannot be called a victory by any measure." He all but growled in answer. "I saw my people routed, broken, and butchered, all the while those who claimed the privilege of leading our society, who lauded themselves as wise and enlightened, refused to act. Ignoring all the damning evidence before them." Shaking his head, he sighed and pushed his anger away. "I apologise, the arrogance of my people has become something I despise with all my heart."
"Quel'Dorei. The children of noble birth. The very name is arrogant." I muttered, glancing to the door. Through which, were of mind to do so, Darius' guards could be listening in on our conversation. "Some privacy, please." I whispered breathily, a breeze stirring first at my shoulder, then playfully in my hair, before scattering across the room.
A barrier of stillness formed all around us, clinging to the walls and deadening any sound that might try to pass through it.
Kael'thas followed the breeze, his ears twitching, until it was done. Slowly he tilted his head, examining my working. "It is better to draw a warding away from walls unless it is bound within them." He advised gently. "Without that protective binding, another might apply their own working to the same wall, and gain access to your ward through its anchors."
"Wouldn't they be able to do the same if it was in the air, though?" I asked, more out of curiosity than disbelief – I was already making the adjustments. He was a multi-centennial archmage, he knew what he was talking about.
"Earth is a transitive medium. What touches one continuous piece of stone may touch any point upon that same stone." He explained. "Air, however, is not. Two workings suspended in air will not intersect without direct, and easily detected, interference forcing them to do so."
"Earth binds, air disperses." I murmured, translating it to what I knew of the elements and filing it away for later. "Anyway, is this the birth of the Sin'Dorei, Prince Kael'thas?"
He looked at me oddly for a moment before grinning. "Ah, of course, you would know of the Sin'Dorei..." He paused dramatically, waiting a breath before shaking his head. "No. Or not as I believe you to have foreseen them. The blood of my people, their loss, their sacrifice, was not borne by the many but the few: The Magisters who refused to unleash their might, the counsellors who championed ignorance, and the nobles who turned a deaf ear to our pleas for aid – it is their hands which are stained with the blood of Quel'Thalas."
"That's... different." A change, but how big of one? Putting the onus for what happened on a few, those who turned a blind eye to what was happening, would change how the rest viewed themselves. As victims rather than failures.
And... somewhat horribly, it would give them an outlet for their grief. Culturally accepted, proclaimed by their prince himself, acceptable targets.
I'd seem what grief could drive people too with Tulvan. It wouldn't be pretty.
"However, informing you of the grievances I have against the former leaders of my people is not the reason for my presence here this day." He said, sensing my unease and changing both tone and topic quickly.
Rising from his seat, he bowed low over the table separating us. "Foremost, I wish to repay the debt Quel'Thalas owes you for the aid you offered freely. Twice over did your warnings save my people: First by providing opportunity to prepare against the Scourge's assault, and again by calling the gryphon riders of Aerie Peak to our aid. Without either, I fear the shadow of our former selves my people would have become."
"Prince Kael'thas–"
"Kael." He said, raising his head, meeting my eyes, and smiling. An sad, yet earnest, plea. "Of all those who yet live, I can think of few more deserving to be called my friend. Do not rest upon formality, please."
"I never did this for payment, Kael'thas." I said with a sigh. We barely knew each other; I could be informal with Lorna and Darius because it'd be weird not to, with him it was weird to. "Not with the Scourge. Not when the fate of kingdoms, of Azeroth itself, is at stake."
Kael'thas let out a short laugh and shook his head. "Gwyneth, that only makes you more deserving of what I offer. But if you insist, consider it payment not for the warnings given, but the request for aid I am to give you." Reaching into his robes he withdrew a small, very thoroughly stoppered, vial of... dirt? Black and chalky dirt. "The depredations of the Scourge did not end with the harm caused to my people–"
Oh, that's what it was.
"Because they poisoned the land itself, twisting and defiling all that lived until it was little more than a mockery of a true ecosystem." I finished for him, now staring at what must be a sealed vial of soil from the Scourge's blight.
"Yes." Kael'thas smirked, more amused than annoyed by my interruption. "I do not ask that you cleanse the forests of Eversong, such will be the work of many years. But it would be the very height of arrogance to not reach out for the perspective of our allies for aid."
The emphasis, especially considering his earlier declaration, was not subtle at all. "So you come to the Witches of Gilneas, just as you do the Church of the Holy Light and the Mages of Dalaran?" I asked rhetorically, receiving a nod from him in turn. Considering there was no way they'd exhausted their own avenues of research, if they'd even started considering everything else going on, I had to wonder just how much of it was pageantry.
A display for his people that they were not to stand alone, no matter their pride, and seek out the aid of their allies even for matters they still believe they could resolve themselves.
I wrinkled my nose as I took the vial from his hand. Darius' lessons on politics were sticking and I wasn't entirely happy about it.
Then, as I unstoppered the vial, I outright shivered as the magic wafted forth. A bone-chilling shock of Death assaulting my senses; an itch in my bones saying they were broken, my mouth suddenly dry, an gnawing emptiness in my gut, and a deep, unending, chill that felt like it would linger for the rest of my life. However short it was.
And, behind it all, in amidst the ringing silence of the grave, was a call. A beckoning that bid something in my soul join it, follow It, listen to it, and go north; so very, very far north.
I quashed a whimper and held the vial away from me, shaking some life back into my limbs. "It's not just dead, but calling for more death." I fixated on the strangest, most insidious, part of what I felt. "The undead are attracted to it aren't they? Following the scar all the way to Silvermoon."
Any undead the command of a lich, death knight, or dreadlord wouldn't heed a call this weak, but more feral and wild undead? Ones not given active direction? They were plentiful, and would follow the trail of devastation Arthas had left in his wake with no outsider interference or resources required. A spiteful remnant to assault Quel'Thalas long after Arthas had left the land – though it was hard to to tell if it had been done intentionally or not.
It could just be an artefact of Kel'Thuzad's corpse being taken to the Sunwell, or even the corrupting of that font of mana. A small sample of soil wasn't enough to know.
"We had our suspicions that it does such, yes." Kael'thas answered, a hint of surprise in his voice. "The undead remain a constant presence along the entire length of the Dead Scar, though their numbers thin the further north one travels."
The question was, could I fix it... the Earthen Ring and Cenarion Circle had managed something in the Western Plaguelands, hadn't they? The farmers had even come back, I think. But the west had always been less tainted than the east, let alone the Dead Scar, and I was no Cenarion Circle all on my own, and the rest of the witches weren't here or comparable to either organisation in scope.
Except... Witchcraft wasn't really what I needed here, was it? Not to turn Death that called to Death back to Life...
"I have a few ideas." I said, re-stoppering the vial and putting it aside. "I might be a while before I get the chance, but it's also a good chance to impart a lesson or two on my apprentice. If you don't mind me involving her in this, of course."
"I am here making a request of you," Kael'thas said, smiling effusively, "should you wish to turn it into a lesson also, then I have no complaint. Indeed, should you spread a method of restoring the damage done by the Scourge far and wide, I would only have further praise to heap upon you." Once more, he reached into his robes, only this time he brought out a small wooden box. "And further payment that is due."
Slowly, with reverence, he opened the box, and I was all but blinded – the lingering cold I felt washed away in an instant – as I beheld a single drop of the sun suspended in crystal.
"What." I breathed, my chest tight and unable to tear my eyes away.
"Had you not warned me of the dangers faced with the loss of the Sunwell, as many as a third of those who were saved may have succumbed. The arcane sanctums suffice for a few, but they are the driest river compared to the Sunwell. To even a single of its glory." Kael'thas spoke, truly insufficient amounts of awe in his considering what he was holding in his hands.
"Through the expertise of those Sin'Dorei who knew its workings more than any other, pale recreations, the Dawnwells, have been made. One before the great tree Seradane, another at Faithren academy to sustain those who took refuge there. Two more were sent across the ocean to Kalimdor, to be held against disaster here, and two more remain." Gently he lifted the bead of magical glory from its protective casing, holding it up where it shined with a scintillating rainbow of colours. "One shall be used in Dalaran upon its reconstruction, and the last has been split into seven droplets."
Still staring at the most beautiful, most captivating, most wonderful thing I had ever seen, I struggled to process what he was saying. But in the end I realised exactly what he intended.
"No." I shook my head, pressing myself further into my seat to gain what little distance that offered. "You can't be serious."
"For his aid to our people in our time of need, one has been gifted to Falstad Wildhammer. He intends to use it to forge a hammer, one imbued with the radiance of the sun to signify the friendship between our peoples." Kael'thas said, now holding the box and bead out towards me. "What you have given us is no less than they. Gwyneth Arevin, Witch of Gilneas, Apprentice of Dalaran, Saviour of Quel'Thalas, I offer this gift of the Sunwell with the barest hopes it is sufficient to show my gratitude for what you have done."
"And what," I said, my voice cracking awfully, "do you think I would even do with it?"
Frowning, Kael'thas returned the bead to its box and pushed it towards me. It was still hard to take my eyes off of the too-bloody-beautiful droplet. "Whatever you wish. A staff, enchanted to channel the might of the sun. A lesser Dawnwell, to empower your workings."
Taking a deep breath I closed the box. I didn't push it back to him, doing that would be far too rude, but with it closed I could at least think. "Kael, I'm not that good of an enchanter! I never even got to finish my lessons on magical tailoring in Dalaran before I was kicked out – I'm decent but no master. This is... you're gifting Adamantine to an apprentice smith."
"Whatever aid you require to see it used to its fullest potential, I will supply." He answered simply. "Archmages Antonidas and Modera are both aware of my intent, and have offered their assistance as well."
Even with that assurance I couldn't help but feel I would just store it away, holding onto it for years and years while never finding the right time, or reason, to use it. It wasn't like I had somewhere to put a... moonwell equivalent; my home... wasn't likely to even remain such for much longer, and wasn't anywhere near a leyline in the first place.
It'd just take up space, heavily, absurdly protected space that would leave me constantly worried, as I hoarded the relic of immense power... while being utterly unable to figure out what to do with the bloody thing. I certainly wasn't keeping it because it was pretty – I had Vivi for that!
"A hearthstone would be easier. Or bolts of runecloth to make new clothes from." I muttered under my breath, though the twitching of Kael'thas' eyebrows gave away that he heard me. "It is a grand gift, Kael'thas. But it would be more secure in your hands, those that know how to keep it best protected, than mine. Maybe one day I will be ready to use it–" Un-bloody-likely! "–but today, I am not."
There. As polite a refusal I can manage. Kael'thas Sunstrider, please, listen to me!
Lowering his gaze, Kael'thas stared at the box with a frown on his face. "Very well." He nodded tiredly, his eyebrows dropping and ears dipping. "Until such a time as you are ready, Gwyneth. Until then I will find some smaller measure to showcase the gratitude of Quel'Thalas for what you have done."
-oOoOo-
"Are you sure you can't come?" Vivi asked quietly, one hand trailing down my arm to clasp my hand as the other wrapped around my shoulder to give me a hug. "We've not had a chance to do anything together for months, and it's a chance for a real adventure. Hunting down a monster terrorising farmers, killing the beast and celebrating with the victims afterword. Right out of a storybook."
Dropping the dress I was holding I turned and wrapped her up into my own hug. "I want to." I said sincerely; it wasn't my idea of a date, but just spending time with her was enough, and she really wanted this. "But I've a responsibility for Trix. I can't leave her alone."
Vivi pouted at me, her lips almost quivering in disappointment. "Trix's met the Prince and Princess already. She could go on her own, or with one of the staff to keep an eye on her."
I shook my head sadly. "Maybe if she wanted to go, but she doesn't. I don't get why, but Trix is terrified of them, Vivi, and when I took her on as my apprentice she became my responsibility. I'm not going to abandon her when she's scared."
Everything I remembered said Anduin was a good kid, and Lianne was sociable and calm; she hadn't even been raised as a princess! The little I'd interacted with her made me wonder if the girl even understood that she was royalty rather than pretending because her mother had called her her precious princess.
"And a good hero doesn't leave their companions when they need help." Vivi sighed, then leaned in to kiss me. Her soft lifts lifted into a little smile as we held each other, and a hand drifted into my hair to tug gently.
My breath was short when we parted. "Gotta get ready," I panted, rather wishing we had more time, and sorely tempted to ditch Trix after all.
But I wouldn't. I wasn't my hormones, even if they were screaming at me.
"Yeah." Vivi said breathily. "So do I – not exactly dressed for a monster hunt in the snow." She tugged at the airy short dress I'd made her to go over trousers. It'd taken a while to find a style she liked, but unlike her mother and other stupid nobles, I really didn't care about her wearing shorts or trousers underneath, or making it super-short or even split. I just liked the way it swished when she moved.
"Have fun." I said, giving her another peck before letting go and collecting my dress again and seeing about readying myself to meet Calia and Varian.
I had no issues with finding suitable, and comfortable, clothes for events like this, but if I didn't have magic the amount of effort I'd need to go through with makeup would drive me crazy – if the sodding arsenic and lead didn't kill me first.
Of all the commonalities with my old world, why did toxic make up have to be one of them? It's not like we didn't know it was a poison, just no one seemed to actually care.
Pinching my cheeks and sending a rush of Life into them, then nodded, satisfied with the pink flush against my pale skin. Magic was so very much an excellent cheat even if I couldn't go full on illusionary makeup. "Now to see if Trix has actually done what she was supposed to." I said, heading towards the cubbyhole she'd taken as her bedroom.
That she hadn't come found me already, along with the lack of sound from within, rather told me the answer. But I was still surprised when I opened the door.
Laying on the bed Trix was curled up beside Tricks, her legs twitching as she dreamed. A faint tinge of magic in the air, a wispy, ethereal thing – one that smelled of foxes. And not just Tricks' normal scent.
"Damnit, Trix." We didn't have time to deal with whatever they were up to – her hair was a mess, Tricks' somehow managing to tangle up in her short golden locks, and she was still wearing the same thing same dress we'd been using for earth elementalism practise. Which meant the dirt stains were plentiful.
Moving to Trix's side I shook her gently to no response, then harder as I channelled a spark of lighting into the connection between her and Tricks. The two startled awake with yelp and a harsh screech.
"Up." I ordered, brooking no disobedience as I glared at the pair. "We're going to talk about this later, but right now I've got to get you ready fast. I know you don't want to, Trix, but you already agreed and the plans were made. You don't get to back out now."
Trix flinched at my tone and lowered her gaze. "Sorry. I... got distracted. Thought we'd wake up... then it worked." Tricks yipped her agreement, telling me it was her fault.
Sighing, I ruffled her hair. "I'll make time if you need it Trix. Don't try things alone, you don't have my senses to know when it's dangerous."
-oOoOo-
As Trix conjured an astral image of Tricks running up to her, telling the story of how she was accepted as a witch, I could see room for improvements in her efforts. The fox shape she'd made was weak and dim, her connection to the stars faltering so far underground, and even wobbling slightly as she split her focus. But the pair of royal children loved the display anyway, Anduin laughing and clapping as the little fox told off the big mean witches who didn't want her there.
"I was sceptical when Lord Crowley brought the girl with him." King Wrynn said as we looked over the children from the side of the room, giving them space to play. "But Lianne was too shy to speak to my Anduin until she introduced them." He smiled grimly, not that he did much without being grim I'd found. "And she made him laugh. He doesn't laugh enough."
"Her way with children is something of a blessing." Though she'd definitely see it as a curse. "And I'm proud to have her as my apprentice."
King Wrynn let out a loud grunt I took to be agreement, but it drew Trix's gaze our way and made her focus slipped further. Enough that the illusion dispersed entirely – to the dismay of Lianne who had been trying, quite insistently, to hug and play with the little starry foxes' ears.
"Wolfie gone!" She cried out despondently, lip quivering and about ready to burst into tears.
I was about to move to intervene and make a new astral fox to take over when King Wrynn dropped a hand onto my shoulder. "Come." He ordered, steering me away forcibly. "They will be more comfortable without our presence to disturb their play."
Looking back at Trix I saw she'd recovered quickly, making a cute little byplay between to foxes dancing around one another that had caught Lianne's attention before she could start to cry.
Walking through the accommodations afforded to Stormed reaffirmed what I'd thought when I'd first seen them, which was that Gilneas had really been shorted with where we'd been put. While not on the inner ring of the great forge, it was in the connecting passage to the Military Quarter and a truly palatial residence with feasting halls large enough to be repurposed into ballrooms, and even a small artificial garden with sunlight piped in through an absurdly extensive series of mirrors.
Tapestries depicting dwarven kings from the Anvilmar era alongside ancient Wrynns hung on the walls, alongside swords, axes, and busts depicting human warriors that had fought against the Dark Iron clans and earned honour amongst the Bronzebeards. No need to remodel to fit Stormwind's aesthetic here, it might be dwarven but it still put their pride on display.
"We're here." King Wrynn said abruptly, one of his constant escorts pulling open a door and ushering us inside a relatively small chamber with a table complete with a small meal that had already been started. Of the four seats, three were on one side, and one on the other; Two of the three seats were already occupied, one by Calia Menethil, and the other Ansirem Runeweaver.
"Queen Calia's presence is understandable," I said, glancing at King Wrynn with some confusion, "though I am puzzled by the presence of an archmage of the Kirin Tor."
The sound of the door shutting behind him was loud and strangely final. A feeling which grew much, much stronger as Arcane wards erupted around the room, runes glowing on the walls, and buzzed angrily against my skin.
"Archmage Ansirem's presence is simply to ensure we receive the answers we need to." Calia said with a steely gaze fixed upon me.
Leaving me standing and looking for an escape, Varian moved to stand beside Calia, leaving me arrayed against a king, a queen, and one of Dalaran's council of six. Alone and without anyone thinking this was more than a sodding playdate for the prince and princess.
I should've gone with Vivi. "Usually when one asks questions they don't ambush the one they are questioning." I offered with no little heat; any pretence of politeness was well and gone here.
"When a child offers so many prophecies freely and to all that will listen, one learns more by listening for what they do not say than what they do." Varian said sharply, his eyes narrowing angrily for some bloody reason. "The dangers of Quel'Thalas, spoken of too late to save the elves. The Wildhammers warned ineffectually, yet soon enough to earn their praise. Dalaran, offered warning but refused aid that might seen their city survive." He gripped the back of Calia's chair tight enough his knucles turned white. "Stormwind. Where a dragon lurked and nothing was done!"
Dragon? What– Onyxia!
My eyes widened in shock. How the bloody hell had I forgotten about Onyxia?! She was behind everything wrong with Stormwind! From the Defias all the way to Varian's disappearance and that whole mess with Lo'Gosh!
But... she hadn't been relevant to the Third War. Or anything world shattering, so I'd focused on other things. The Plague, the Scourge, the Worgen that would afflict my homeland, and notes on things further out which I scarcely remembered the details of anymore. Onyxia was just a... footnote in the future I knew, one dealt with early.
Simply and without any great sacrifice. She hadn't mattered.
"And so your true colours show." Varian growled, seeing something in my expression that made him believe I'd always known. "The Alliance suffers and all the while Gilneas, and damnable Gilneas alone, prospers from it."
"Even if that was not your intent, the results speak plainly." Ansirem said without any of the anger the other two displayed, just cold pragmatism that was more unnerving to have aimed at me. "A foolish rural girl cannot be trusted with the fate of the world. Your failure to provide sufficient warning of the Scourge's coming makes that clear enough for those not blinded with sentimentality to see."
"I tried!" I snapped at him. "I tried to speak to the Kirin Tor, but you didn't–"
"As if you didn't know who we are." He scoffed dismissively. "One who knows as much as you no doubt knew the names of the Council of Six. To claim otherwise is an absurdity."
Glaring back at him, feeling the still-burning anger and guilt I felt over that failure in my gut, I tried to stop myself – and failed. "You. Didn't. Listen. I knew Krasus, Antonidas, and eventually Khadgar, Jaina, Kalec – but you? I never knew your name; Ansirem Runeweaver, so insignificant you never appeared in the future at all!"
In my head I knew I shouldn't have made the petty shot. That it was stupid. But his shocked expression, the popping of his ego after what he said, was satisfying.
"Do you take after the orcs as well as ally with them?" Calia interjected waspishly. "In the same breath you claim to escort me and aid my people, you treat with the monsters that killed my husband."
She stood, arms shaking with anger as she leaned on the table. "They gutted our lands, butchered our people, brought the demons to our world, and now because of you, I am expected to grin and bear the indignity of their presence to secure Gilneas' aid."
Looking between the three of them it well and truly clicked that there was no point talking. They had their points prepared, their opinions set, long before they set up this ambush – if they had any contact with the Proudmoores Darius' schedule wouldn't have been hard to find out. They used Trix, their own children, to corner me.
It was disgusting.
Marshalling my restraint I took a deep breath and let it go before turning to leave. "There are no answers for those who abuse children." I said over my shoulder – only to be grabbed before I could take a step towards the door. "Let. Go."
"His Majesty bids that you answer him." The man in Stormwind plate said flatly, without a hint of reluctance for following through with this farce.
"The doors a sealed shut." Ansirem said smugly. "What meagre skills in magic that your witchcraft has gained you will not be sufficient to unravel my wards, and I shall not allow you to depart until you have answered our questions satisfactorily. Cooperate and it will be easier on–"
He was interrupted by the runes on the walls flaring, the angry buzz against my skin redoubling, before the doors burst inward – and entirely off their hinges, only prevented from flying across the room by a sudden outpouring of ice that caught them.
"And what," came the voice of the perpetrator, an almost ageless woman with bright silver hair and starkly pupil-less white eyes as she strode into the room, "are you doing," she slammed her staff, the raven topped sodding Atiesh, into the solid stone floor so hard that it cracked, "with my granddaughter?"