"Bluntly, Gwyneth, I am as unimpressed by Stormwind's words of apology as you are." Darius stated flatly as I lounged on the settee, my head propped up haphazardly and an invitation I was torn about dangling between my fingers. "Were we amongst my peers I have no doubt that we could spend days discussing the minutia of his speech, the exact measures in which he failed to restrain his antipathy, or present a proper display of sincerity. But the court of 'Azeroth'" I could hear his eye roll, no doubt intentionally, "has long held itself to its own standards. Ones far removed from those who have beheld the politicking of our northern kingdoms."
Scratching Tricks' ears, I hummed in amusement at his implied insult; all but stating that Stormwind nobles lacked subtlety. "Varian was always a blunt instrument." Or rather, that's what little I remembered of him from Before.
Gladiator fights, Valeera Sanguinar and her... dress, picking a fight with Garrosh, being a warmonger. Relying on strength and his swords to do all the talking for him. And amongst it all I'd forgotten Onyxia of all people. Deep down I knew that I should feel regret about that, the danger Anduin had been in – hadn't he been kidnapped to her lair? Or was that Varian? No, there were... crocolisks?
Huffing irritably I pushed aside the fuzzy and distorted recollections that told me nothing useful. When it came down to it, it didn't matter any more, and I just didn't care. Stormwind didn't need my help, and now? They weren't going to get it.
And he sure as hell wasn't ever going to be 'High King' if I had anything to say about it. Could even say he brought about the Fourth War if I wanted to.
"Perhaps. Yet in his gift he demonstrated some modicum of subtlety." Darius returned, his eye shifting to the oversized sword resting beside the door. "A princely gift, one that could scarcely be refused without turning eyes. And while suitable at first glance, it falls short with greater understanding."
Not even bothering to look at the thing, I scowled; not only was it useless to me for obvious reasons, I doubted it would be much more than a hunk of metal to Vivi either. It might be a Truesilver Champion, pristine and bearing every sign of good craftsmanship I knew, maybe even taken straight from Stormwind's Royal Armoury, but that only made it expensive not valuable. Even ignoring the blatant Stormwind Iconography, or the holy hymn it kept singing at me that would clash horribly with Vivi's passionate blaze, it was straight up the wrong kind of sword!
Vivi was strong, amazing, skilful, gorgeous, and more than a match for any stupid Stormwind Knight, but she didn't use her sword two-handed outside of specific moments. She was quick, fleeting, and graceful – she didn't swing around a sword half a foot longer than she was tall to bludgeon things to death!
I'd still offer it to her, of course. "Can melt it down if nothing else." I muttered, finding the idea appealing; an excuse to spend time with Vivi working on a new weapon. Could even enlist a Magister to help enchant it through Kael'thas.
He smiled briefly. "To destroy a thinly veiled claim over your person would be satisfying, yes. No matter the claims of the line of Wyrnn they never truly held Autumnwind Pass as their own, even before Medivh's..." As I turned to look at him, trying to puzzle out what the hell he meant, he made a rare fumble as he searched for a word. "Possession, those who resided their held fealty to the Mage Lord and no others."
Was he... he was. With a new reason to be angry I glared at the sword, my fingers digging into Trick's fur as my hands clenched into fists. The lion emblazoned so proudly on the hilt no longer merely an annoyance and instead outright disgusting to look at.
A claim that Varian Wrynn thought me his subject and that I should beholden to his will, all because of who my 'father' was.
"And were it merely a squabble between nobles, the Houses of Crowley and Godfrey once more, I would encourage the act wholeheartedly." Darius continued, beginning to shake his head. "Yet it is not, so I must not. A refusal may have marked little more than a declaration that the offered apology was insufficient, and with such a gift alongside other concessions greedy, yet its outright destruction? A refutation of the very idea of reconciliation between our peoples."
Hissing between my teeth I only realised my hands were shaking when Tricks' let out a grumbling hiss and pulled herself away from my grip, complaining of pulled fur. I knew that Darius had a point, that politics were the entire reason we were here – to rebuild bridges and mend ties.
To throw all that away when I hadn't even been hurt, just briefly trapped before my rescue, would be the height of foolishness. But as my fingers drifted to where I'd been shot by fucking Godfrey under truce... I found I wanted to do it anyway.
And shove that I'd done it in Varian's face.
"I think," I huffed out as calmly as I could, which wasn't very much at all, "that I am done with politics." Standing, I snatched up the invitation, a dinner with Katherine, and Jaina presumably, where Daelin would no doubt just happen to show up, from where I dropped it and unceremoniously tossed it into the fire.
Watching the letter as it burned up, I didn't even know what I truly meant by what I said; I couldn't go back to be a little peasant witch tending to a village again, I wasn't stupid enough to believe they wouldn't chase me down if I tried.
"When Vivi gets back... I'll consider something." I said through gritted teeth, my eyes firmed kept away from looking at Darius and any judgement he might hold. "But no more political manoeuvring. I just... I just can't."
With a flex of will I twisted, pulling on a simpler part of myself, and jumped away – my paws padding on the stone floor as I retreated to my room. I didn't care to hear whatever concessions he'd managed to prise out of Calia now, all I wanted to do was wriggle under the covers of my bed and make a nest to sleep in. All the way until Vivi got back from her adventure.
-oOoOo-
The happy bubbling of the spring, its trickling joy infectious as it babbled its thanks for the extended freedom from ice and snow that I offered it, made for a pleasant backdrop as I filled my time with mindless busywork: Directing strong roots to dig out the soil and break heavy stones, then haul them into place to form walls and structures; stiffening and shaping branches to offer shelter from the wind without blocking the sun's rays from falling where they ought.
Each little aspect, from building the miniature menhir-shrine and enchanting it with ember-warmth to scattering seeds and making them flourish, was a satisfying little task to complete. Something simple, easy, and above all tangible that I could see taking shape in just some hours of work.
It was comforting to go back to my roots for a little while. Escaping from all the aspects of life I didn't care for.
Touching the leaves of the silverleaf vine that I'd found here and given me the idea to do this, I found it to be flourishing. The leaves glittering as light danced across their surface, the tell-tale sign that gave the plant its name, where just this morning they had been so brittle and cold as to be dull, the vine scarcely clinging on to the tree which gave it purchase on the mountain's slope.
What had been a dreary old tree standing alone against the wild slopes of Dun Morough was now a warm and sheltered grotto breaking into the mountainside filled with blooming wildflowers. A little monument to the beauty and hardiness of life amidst the cold.
Leaning back against the roots of the old spruce, its warm satisfaction mixing with my own as a breeze danced through its leaves playfully, I looked out across the vast horizon that extended down so very far from my vantage point. The valleys were still warm and green, rivers running down and eastward through Dun Morough, while little tufts of smoke marked settlements that were otherwise nothing more than smudges of grey on the landscape. And, behind it all, the mountains rose once more – each one snowcapped and tall enough to battle the sky for prominence.
I could almost believe that the farthest peak I could see, through gaps between those nearer, might be Blackrock Mountain itself. There was little chance that was true, of course: Blackrock was hundreds of miles to the south, and though it lacked the snow of its fellows, I saw no signs of the volcanism Ragnaros had inflicted upon the region.
Still, it was a nice thought. To be able to see, even from afar, another of the grand edifices that were so prominent in my memories of Azeroth from Before. Though, thinking about that ash-blasted landscape did make me wonder just how the Dark Irons survived there...
Where in the world did they get their food? For that matter, where did the orcs that Nef– no, Nel– Onyxia's brother kept get their food? Raiding Stormwind couldn't account for all of it, surely.
With a huff I pushed those thoughts aside and crawled over to the menhir-shrine above the spring's source and pulling out my knife. I'd made it roughly in the style of the Thornspeaker's menhirs above their spring, but it was still... lacking something. I didn't really have the proper tools to carve runes, let alone carve them into stone, but I could at least try.
If only to avoiding thinking about what I'd run out here to get away from in the first place. And I knew I'd run, that I was still running – avoiding the important things by making this pointless little grotto that might not even survive the winter!
But feeling Modera's magic as she talked to Darius, the agitation that threatened to become so much more – like an asteroid ready to become a meteorite – had been too much. That he'd turned her away without seeing me, same as he'd done for Kael'thas' magister, and whomever that dwarf had been, didn't matter. I'd heard them. Felt them.
So I ran. It was cowardly, it was stupid, it was pointless, but I did it anyway. Leaving Darius to deal with the consequences of it.
Distracted and growling at myself, my knife slipped on the stone, skipping and scratching as it sent a flurry of sparks all over. Of course trying to avoid thinking about something would set me thinking about it. And ruin both my knife and my attempt at carving the rune for shelter at the same time!
"Fucking Varian." I hissed angrily, tossing aside my now-jagged knife and tracing a finger along the damage I'd done to the stone. "And Calia. Should've left the ungrateful royal-bitch in Southshore."
Beside me the spring burbled softly, soothingly, not quite understanding, while my little breeze caught my hair, tugging on it questioningly, before pushing against me strongly. As if to ask if it should trip her up next time we met – which made me laugh a little.
Only to pause in surprise as, alongside a faint creaking from the old spruce, a little rumble trickled up my finger and into my bones. A grumbling annoyance translated through the tree directed at whatever made me unhappy when I'd been doing such good work, shaping the stone and earth into more than what had been there before.
And, beneath my fingertip as I traced what should have been carved into the stone, rock melded away to leave a smooth and near perfect rendition of the shelter rune upon its surface.
For a moment I just stared at the rune, blinking to be sure I wasn't seeing things and rubbing my arm to try and touch the rumble in my bones again, but before long a wide smile grew on my face. "Maybe not so pointless after all!" I laughed, falling back onto a bed of flowers and basking in my entirely accidental connection to the element of Earth. "And I'm glad someone gets to appreciate my work."
Almost indignant, the spring burbled at me, splashing my hair where it had fallen beside the trickling stream.
"Someone else." I corrected with a roll of my eyes. "Though maybe I should find a way to bring Trix up here. It might make teaching her easier." And, with this, I would have a way to justify my absence to Darius. To say that I hadn't just left him to the wolves for no reason.
Even if that was entirely true at the time.
My smile faded, both from the reminder of how I'd run away, and from spotting a speck in the sky above that was growing larger by the moment. One which, as I noticed it, my little breeze whispered eagerly to say was a gryphon.
A gryphon which was, after only a few dozen seconds of watching, easy to determine was heading straight for me – not just looking for me, but using magic to track me down. And at best I had another minute or two before they arrived and disturbed this comfortable little space I'd made for myself.
It was tempting to shift forms and dig myself a burrow with which to escape their attention, to hide away just as I'd run away, but... with a long sigh I decided against it. "Maybe it's someone coming to tell me Vivi's back." I mumbled, though I'd dismissed the possibility before I even said it. She wasn't supposed to be back for another two days still, and I'd told Darius not to interrupt her adventure.
Which, in hindsight, was stupid. Vivi was going to be so mad I didn't have someone go after her the moment I got into trouble.
Sighing, I threw myself to my feet and set about making myself somewhat presentable; fishing spruce needles and twigs out of my hair, brushing clumps of dirt off my clothes, washing my face off with water from the spring, and fixing my clothes so they weren't so askew from the work I'd been doing on my hands and knees. There wasn't much to be done for the tangles that'd made their way into my hair, unfortunately. I'd just have to ignore them.
When my little breeze started tickling my ear, bringing the sound of wing-beats into focus as the gryphon came in to land, I found myself a perch amongst the tree roots holding up part of the earthen wall and settled in to watch the rider land.
"Aye, lookin' at it, I be feelin' this be the right spot, lass." Falstad said; the High Thane of all people being the one looking for me. "Sorry fer doubtin' ye."
As a head of blonde hair slid down from the gryphon's back and into view, I was surprised to realise his passenger was Jaina. "It was rather unassuming from above," she waved him off good-naturedly, "if I hadn't been searching for Gwen I wouldn't have suspected there was anything more than a tree here. Let alone an entire enchanted grove!" Conjuring a small flame into her hand she stepped inside and began looking about with curiosity. "Gwen? How long have you been working on this?"
I waited until she was looking at my miniature menhir before dropping from my perch and answering. "Since this morning when I found it." I said with a shrug. "Magic makes the work go quickly if you're willing to use it."
And you knew what you were doing, admittedly. If I hadn't had years of practice shaping trees, or the experience flash-growing repairs for the Greymane Wall, a lot of my efforts shifting stone and earth would've taking much, much longer.
Barely even flinching as I appeared behind her, Jaina turned around with a smile. "Yes, yes it does. Although I must admit, seeing you use a tree as both an earth mover and reinforcement for the banks is quite novel to me. Those mages I know who specialise in construction focus on..." She paused, twirling a finger as part of her explanation. "Nevermind that." She said, shaking her head and putting on an aggrieved expression. "When I heard that mother had invited you to dinner, I came to offer my own invitation in person. Only to find you missing!"
"Aye, an' dinnae tha' go down a treat." Falstad grumbled as he brought Swiftwing to the spring and set him to drinking. "Ye went an' made yerself a hard lass tae find. Got some folk wonderin' if ye ran off with yer father after what happened. Wouldnae o' blamed ye if ye did meself."
Waving a hand, a trio of roots bulged out of the walls to form makeshift seats. "I just needed to get away for a while. After Genn, Daelin, and now both Varian and Calia..." I frowned and trailed off. "I don't want to talk about it. Or them."
"Tha's fine, ain't worth wastin' breath on 'em." He huffed as he leaned against Swiftwing's side, sinking a good few inches into the gryphon's feathers. "Ain't why I were lookin' for ye. Were Kael, mostly, I went tae him 'bout what ye be tellin' me, an' he were wantin' ye tae help plan it. An' if ye've got anything tae help with rescuin' Kurdran... well, the Wildhammer be in yer debt more'n before."
"From what little I've spoken with Master Antonidas, the Kirin Tor also intends to assist with rescuing the Sons of Lothar." Jaina added. "And I know Father will commit Kul Tiras to the effort when he finds out it can be done."
Daelin. I scowled just long enough for Jaina to catch it.
"He intends to apolog–"
"I don't want to talk about him! Or any of them!" I snapped at her, only to feel a wave of guilt wash through me the moment I did it. Forcing it down I stared at Falstad instead. "I won't be helping with planning anything until Vivi gets back. I'm not going to any meetings alone again, and even then only if I have to. But..." I bit my lip in thought; I could just about remember the shape of things, and I could hardly forget the Draenei existed. "Yes, I can help with Outland, the Sons of Lothar, and everything else important there."
There were hideouts with survivors scattered around, but I couldn't remember where. Their priest, the prophet... maybe he would notice and make contact. It would make saving the locals easier if they found our people rather than needing to be found themselves...
Actually, there was an idea. "Depending on how I phrase it," I said slowly, "I might even be able to find you a local guide. So long as you're willing to listen them."
Falstad stared back at me, his brow furrowing deeply enough to bend his woad tattoos. "Suspect ye'll be havin' as much luck as convincin' a stone tae bleed." He said bluntly as he put together my meaning and with a shake of his head. "But tha's talk fer another day."
"An orc?" Jaina said eagerly. "You mean Drek'Thar's clan, the Frostwolves, don't you? It would certainly make finding any survivors easier, and," she glanced at Falstad, "be easier to convince people than you might expect."
It really would be better if I got one of the Frostwolves to guide them – maybe Galvanger would be willing? – for one it would remove any need for me to go with them. I didn't exactly want to go to the burnt and broken husk of a world that was Outland, and it'd serve Gilneas' purposes by making our peace treaty with them less of an exception to the rule. And, just to make it better, it'd spit in Calia's face.
Shouldn't be too hard to convince them to help either, if I was remembering things right. But that wasn't something I cared to think about too much at the moment.
"Right." He huffed disbelievingly. "I dinnae need tae go, but I be sayin' what I were wantin' tae say. Ye care fer a lift back tae the city, lass? Swiftwing can the three o' us."
"I was hoping to stay a little longer." Jaina said, giving Falstad a disappointed glance – Though I suspected it was more more so for his attitude than the possibility of a early departure. "It's quite pleasant here. And I must admit having quite so many, hmm, individuals demanding my time in order to learn what happened on Kalimdor is quite tiring." She bent down and took my hand in hers with a beatific smile. "Not as dire as your own, I admit, but tiring nonetheless. I was rather hoping that you would come to Mother's dinner so I could ask you to return the favour. Master Antonidas has tried to bring me up to date, but it isn't the same as hearing it from a friend."
Having a pretty girl like Jaina bend down, her generous cleavage on display, and hold my hand with a smile was... moving to say the least. Her hair falling to so perfectly frame her face didn't make things much better either.
If Vivi were here, she'd be staring too, much like we both did with Lorna at times.
But still, she went and brought up exactly what I'd asked her not to. "Jaina," I said, my voice dry and arching an eyebrow despite the flush building in my cheeks, "you're the wrong Proudmoore to be trying to guilt me into doing something by pouting. You're older than me. Have some shame."
My delivery didn't quite make Falstad spit-take or anything, but he did blink very slowly before erupting into a deep chuckle. In turn, Jaina began actually pouting at me; something I'd take as a win.
"So your weakness is children." She said after a moment, the pout she'd put on turning into a smirk. "I'll keep that in mind for the future, and make sure to inform Finnall when I meet her." Letting go of my hand she collected her cloak and took a seat on the roots beside me. "You'll need to tell me the story of how you met her at some point too. I... can still scarcely believe Derek had a daughter, a wife, without telling me! And an elven one at that!"
"It's not like she told me either! I had no idea who Finnall's father was until I got to Kul Tiras." I said defensively, though I found myself... smiling. And genuinely at that. "Not that I asked, either. It seemed rude when Klinar had been helping me since she did my entrance test."
Jaina made a few curious noises, begging me to keep going, while Falstad settled in to grooming Swiftwing as he listened in. It was strange; as I continued talking, telling the story of my time in Dalaran – the good and the bad – with anecdotes from Jaina of how she had taken the same class on enchanting a few years before me and her experiences, or from Falstad chiming in that he knew Instructor Calebren from the Second War and retelling a battle, I found that I was enjoying myself.
-oOoOo-
In the end, I didn't go back with Falstad or Jaina. I'd made a breakthrough with earth elementalism and wanted a chance to work on it more, and that was best done where I had a feel for the elemental that I'd made contact with in the first place. So I waved them goodbye as they flew off into the evening with far more enthusiasm than I expected to have when they arrived, waiting until they were an indistinct blob before turning back to my little grotto.
Only to be greeted by an oversized raven with too intelligent eyes taking a drink from the spring, and, a little further in standing regally in a gold-trimmed white robe that put that twit Runeweaver's to shame, was my 'grandmother'.
A moment after I spotted them, the air whistled around me in shock. Confused, surprised, and alarmed it stiffened into a protective barrier between me and them apologetically.
"You need better wards against scrying." Aegwynn said flatly, not looking at me directly and instead examining the grotto in detail. Her eyes lingered everywhere I'd worked magic, and the most on the miniature menhir shrine. "Shelter." She said in the Old Tongue, much to my surprise. "A minor protection, yet woefully insufficient for the task you put it towards."
"I didn't exactly intend it to stop someone stronger than an archmage scrying me!" I retorted hotly, disliking the sudden, and unasked for, critique of my work. "The rune was meant to reinforce the purpose of the grotto as a place of shelter. Be that from the elements, the weather, or predators. Not magic."
Inwardly, I was somewhat annoyed I hadn't even considered using it to hide from prying eyes. But I'd not done that much with runes, and the usage Mathis' had explained for it hadn't included the idea either.
"I see." She hummed thoughtfully, then seemingly dismissed me as she turned to Medivh with a frown. As he responded by tilting his head at her, then by hopping up onto one of the root-seats I'd made and using it as a perch, she scowled. The two began a staring contest which pitted empty white orbs against beady black ones, a contest I wasn't much interested in getting between. Eventually, she huffed, collected her robe beneath her, and sat beside him on a second root looking none to pleased.
Only after she was firmly seated did Medivh change, his body twisting and cracking unpleasantly as he returned to his human form. He gently placed Atiesh beside him to rest against the wall; the buzzing, biting magic a sharp contrast to but not interfering with the grotto. "Late as it may be, I offer my apologies for entering into this deception on your behalf without warning. Initially little more than a misunderstanding, it has grown into an opportunity that shall benefit us both."
"A dutiful son would conjure their dear elderly mother a chair." Aegwynn hissed under her breath as he spoke, then fixed me in place with a stare; empty as her eyes were, they commanded attention in a way that would give Darius envy. "In short, you have brought more attention on yourself than you can safely handle. The grasping hands of princesses, kings, and uppity archmages are the least of the concerns a genuine prophet should expect to encounter in their lifetimes." She waved a hand flippantly, all but dismissing them as a threat. "If the overgrown sand lizards haven't already made themselves known, they will do so shortly. As will their kin. And it is only a matter of time before the demons turn their personal attention towards you."
I couldn't help but mouth 'overgrown sand lizards'. It's not like I didn't understand the idea of meeting the Bronze flight, and the issues they might have with me, but one would think they'd have done something if they were going to. As for the Legion... "They already have. At least one of them. Had to fight a Dreadlord, but we won."
"One of the Nathrezim will hardly be the end of their efforts. Should you wish, you have the option of fleeing behind Kael'thas' robes for protection. I understand that he would be overjoyed to offer sanctuary amongst what remains of his people, and though it would be a gilded cage, it would work."
"It's not like Lorna will leave me out to dry either." I countered; Liam wouldn't either, he might not like me, or me him much, but he sure as hell didn't want to lose me.
Aegwynn snorted derisively. "I'm sure she would do her best. If you are determined to remain within Gilneas, the auspices of your patron presents another option. So long as you are willing to remain within his domain and never venture beyond his reach."
"That's hardly–"
"Yet, being considered my granddaughter, and more importantly my son's child, presents a third path." She barrelled over my protest without a care. "My name alone would give pause to many of the fools that seek to claim you for their own purposes, rightly fearful of the consequences of their actions. As that uppity apprentice discovered for himself so recently." She let out a single chuckle. "More importantly, by revealing it in a manner which will spread so quickly, our enemies cannot help but learn of this."
Crossing my arms, I frowned. I could see why Medivh started this with an apology; I was glad for the rescue when it happened, assumed they had a plan when Aegwynn made her declaration... but it was annoying to not have had any choice in the matter.
No, it was more than annoying. Aegwynn was not turning out to be a very good 'grandmother' in my mind; though it'd hard for Medivh to be worse than sodding Gunther was.
"In my death I witnessed the works of the Legion. Through the possession the Dark Titan had inflicted upon me by and peering deep into the Twisting Nether." Medivh began to explain what I already, vaguely, remembered. "The Legion was not long unaware of my presence, the minds of demons both well guarded and not. They cared little for they believed me a broken pawn. A false king brought low."
He smiled smugly beneath the shadows of his hood, bright blue eyes twinkling with amusement. "Were I to remain deceased, or have none in this world to act in my stead, their arrogance would have been of no matter. And yet, here I am. And you also."
"Which means that so long as they are made to believe that what knowledge you have comes from my son, killing you alone doesn't solve anything for them." Aegwynn concluded sharply. "However, this is only the outline of a plan, and until we understand more, it cannot be completed. Exactly how did you acquire the knowledge you hold?"
I glared at her, beginning to frown at her demand. I'd sodding run away from the city to avoid bullshit like this, and here I was with it following me.
But they had a point. Detheroc... if I hadn't had Lord Renard's token, if Trix had been killed before she got to me, if we hadn't had Sir Magroth, Donovan, or any of the dozens of men who threw themselves into the line of fire to die in order to just buy time, Detheroc would have been my end.
Even if I resisted his magic, that pressure in my skull, at first, I've little doubt he could have broken me in the end. Just the idea left me shuddering and tightening my arms around myself.
Unmitigated disaster would be a massive understatement for what would've happened if I'd been captured there. So, glancing at Atiesh and feeling the bite of its magic that couldn't be anything else, I decided I had to trust. I could deal with a grumpy and mean grandmother if she was actually working to help me; and if it didn't work? I got targeted anyway? Hopefully it would buy enough time that I could grow to fight for myself.
"Alright." I let out a long breath, but didn't raise my eyes to meet either of them. "You don't need to know the details, so I'll keep it short: This is my second life. I lived on another world, died, and was reincarnated onto Azeroth. Along the way I got to see... a lot. From decades in the future to millennia in the past, the War of the Ancients to the Halls of the Thunder King; even saw the start of a fourth invasion coming from the Broken Isles. The... temple– No, Tomb, the Tomb of Sargeras."
Aegwynn inhaled sharply through her teeth before spitting out a string of curses in a dozen languages, half of which I couldn't even recognise.
"It's been changed by now, changed a lot. And it was just the once, I can perform divinations..." I waved a hand, a trail of Astral stars forming behind my fingers as a vision of the mountain's slope we were on... failed to materialise. "But I'm no better than anyone else. And not as good as you, obviously." I finished with a frown.
It was obvious what was going on. She'd mentioned scrying wards first thing and I could see the mountain, a lonely tree amidst patchy snow, and even a trickling stream running beside it. But it was the wrong tree and there were no signs of my grotto. Or any of us.
Medivh turned to his mother, who met his gaze for several moments before he dipped his head. "And yet... not only did my mother gather my essence and return me to life, in one of my rare moments of clarity, of fleeting freedom from the Dark Titan as its will was directed elsewhere, I enacted a plan reminiscent of its own." He gestured towards me with an open hand, blue eyes warm and inviting. "Your concept and birth, through which what secrets I uncovered might be preserved. Passed on by my spirit from beyond even death." He chuckled. "Or that is what we shall make them believe to be true."
I found myself smiling, even giggling a little, along with him. The idea that he pulled a variation of the same trick Sargeras had used on Aegwynn on Sargeras himself was perfectly ironic; to the point I kind of wished It was true.
Reaching out I took his hand; a little weathered and more rough that I expected, but warm. "Well, I'm glad to meet you at last. Papa."
"Glad as I am that you chose wisely," Aegwynn cut in flatly, not a hint of any gratitude or joy in her voice at all even though Medivh was smiling, "we have no time for childish endearments if we are to rectify a certain lack in your education. No grandchild of mine will be gallivanting about without understanding all aspects of magic under their command. Perform your divination again, with extraneous flair this time.
Rolling my eyes at her, I drew on new beads of starlight to bring to my hands and eyes. "Very well, grandmother. But it isn't childish, Dad is my father from Before, Papa is now; just like Mum and Mama are different people." Once again I was greeted by the wrong tree and wrong slope.
Ignoring my comment, Aegwynn began copying my spell, mote for mote. Unlike Modera, who shaped her Arcane magic into the Astral, she went so far as to draw the magic from the wisps of starlight reaching us just like I did, and guiding it into shape. Yet I couldn't help but notice that it was... weak. Flimsy. For all the skill, the precision, the utter mastery she was displaying, the power that she was putting forth wasn't just less than I put into my spell, but less than Mama could've put into it if she tried.
"Functional." She declared as she held the spell just before completion. Then, without hesitation, began reshaping it – the resonance and call of the stars growing stronger as she tweaked their alignment and made the spell... sharper. Piercing. And then immediately took it apart again, changing it into something else entirely.
A call for the stars to weave a web of mystery, engulf her presence in the vastness of the Great Dark Beyond, and beguile any who sought to unveil her with the light of the stars.
"We shall begin with the proper application of anti-scrying wards before moving onto other matters." Her expression softened, a quirk of her lips hinting at the beginnings of a smile. "Should you do well I have a reward prepared for you, which I have on good authority is a favourite of yours." Incredulously, I watched as she withdrew a small box of chocolates from her robes and broke one in half... revealing a biscuit base, a caramel topping, with a chocolate coat. A sodding Twix. "I hope you do not disappoint me, granddaughter."