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Roderic ambled his way through town to the Bellflower. He felt guilty what little coin he could scrounge up from jobs here and there went into drink so often, but it was the best way he had to dull the pain. If his brother kicked him out, stopped pitying him – and how he hatedbeing pitied – he'd figure it out.

The pub was buzzing as ever, more new faces wandering over from the Wall that was getting built. Roderic didn't bother to hide his glower at them, most other folks had reason to dislike the newcomers – there'd been more than one fight over a girl come from it and everyone blamed them when stuff went missing. Probably weren't, having done that trade once upon a time and even helped built a Lordly House he knew most were decent folk.

Good men doing good work for good coin.

His shoulder throbbed painfully, the twisted bone refusing to move as it should.

No, Rod hated the sight of him 'cause heshould be on that wall. Working and paying his way like was right instead of relying on his brother's charity.

"Pint." He sad, sliding into his usual seat and dropping the coins. Jenny nodded back as she swept them up. He weren't in no mood for talk.

Drink made life more bearable, even the shallow swill he could afford these days. There was just something missing when he couldn't relax to a splash of whiskey after a long day's work; just something wrongwith not being able to do a long day's work.

Hours passed as he nursed his drinks, on his fourth when some of his old workmates finished up and made their way in. Friends, maybe, but these days it was hard to tell.

"Hey Rod." James said, getting a grunt in reply.

Listening to them chat over building up the shelters for the wall's workmen brought back memories and dredged up more resentment. Was his own damn fault, didn't brace a stone right and damn lucky it didn't hit his head, but if he'd been brought to a healer soonerthey might've fixed it.

Left him with two working arms instead of one.

"Rod, you heard about the Witch?" James said, drawing him out of his mulishness. "Can't believe it meself, a Witch. You know the stories, an' his Lordship's just letting her walk around!"

"Seriously?" Rod snorted. Everyone knew Witches were bad news, girls went barren around 'em, crops went black as they stole their health for themselves, and the weather got worse. His ol' grandma always said if it rained three days straight there were a Witch about, hiding from the sun. "Can't see Lord Crowley doing that."

Crowley was sensible folk, listened when he got told things. Actually let the foreman redesign a bridge he'd commissioned 'cause the architecthadn't bothered to check the soil.

Can't build on sand without proper foundations and the Ember weren't a softriver.

"Crier's been crowing about it all week." James said, nodding to himself. "Thought to gather some boys and deal with 'em."

"The Crier? The Lord's gotta know then." Rod took a deep chug of his drink. James could be mistaking some other kind of mage for a Witch. "You sure it ain't a Mage?"

"Damn sure, Crier was saying it themselves. Hollerin' about how she's here to offer healing on his lordship's coin." He scoffed, the others grumbling their own agreement. "Like any bloke with sense'd risk it."

Rod's hand tightened around his mug. What did it say about him that he wouldconsider it?

Lord Crowley weren't an idiot. He wouldn't let something foul run amok in his lands.

"Where the Witch been working from?" Rod asked, trying to keep the quickening pace of his blood out of his voice. "To avoid her. Don't need a curse atop o' a limp arm."

"The chapel of all places." Chris grumbled. "Sister Roper must be ensorcelled to let her into the place. Profaningthe place."

It was clear that Chris was more worried about the Witch profaning his crush, the one who wasn't interested in him back. Bloke was near thirty and never gave up on the girl who rejected him for the Light. Rod had every bit of respect for Sister Roper, she tried hard to help him, but with no Priest in the church to teach her she didn't have a lick of healing magic.

Wasn't like she could just up and leave to learn neither. Someone had to keep the chapel in good condition and lead the sermons.

"Gotta help the girl." James said, nodding. "If we do form up to run the Witch out of town would you join, Rod?"

"Mebe, not like I'm any good in a fight." He answered, pointedly trying to move his bad arm and hissing through his teeth at the shot of agony. "Think I'm done for the night lads." He said, dropping the last of his coppers down for Jenny and getting up. "You take care not to end up like me; you lot're dumb enough to accept the help of a Witch to fix your booboos, let alone a real hurt!"

"Won't happen, ol' man, we know to use rope." Chris mocked right back.

It stung, 'course it did, but it were true.

Rod huffed good-naturedly. "Goodnight lads."

As he stepped out into the chill air of late autumn he had a choice to make, head to the chapel and get his life back or get cursed... or return home to a meal provided by his brother's wife and live a miserable existence shovelling shit with one arm for the rest of his life.

"Ain't like I've got a bloomin' thing to lose." He grumbled, turning west and towards the steeple of the chapel.

Crowford didn't sport anything like the Cathedral of Dawn in the capital, but it did have the biggest chapel for a long ways. Not some small shrine to the light kept by locals but a proper church, and back when he was a kid Rod could remember a Bishop who ran the place who tested kids with the Light and offered healing for those who donated. Hard to remember when he passed, but Sister Roper'd been alone for years.

It was too big a place for a single woman like her, but during and after the War the Churchfolk all got so busy.

The building was still well kept, vines and bushes trimmed back, some folk must take their time to help Sister Roper with the work. He should do the same, touch up the stronework or something if he got healed. Even if it weren't free... it'd be a good way to get back on his feet and showing he was still a good worker.

He passed through the open doors into the interior, the light brighter than he remembered and a soft white not the orange glow of candles. None were even lit. Wondering where it was coming from he glanced around, then up, and saw the night sky painted on the ceiling; a myriad of softly shining stars floating in the air and beaming their light down on them.

"Welcome, is there something you need?" Sister Roper asked.

"Ah." Rod said, still staring at the ceiling dumbfounded. "That... normal?"

"Miss Arevin has kindly replaced the need for candles in the church, They don't last through the day but it has cut down on expenses quite a bit." Sister Roper said, a hint of relief in her voice. "I think they're quite... prettytoo, and I can hardly say that such wonderful Lights are unfitting." She smiled beatifically and Rod found himself nodding his agreement. "Can I ask why you are here? If you wish to simply pray I can get out of your way."

"No," He shook his head. As mesmerising and magicalas the twinkling lights were they weren't why he was here. "I heard that the," Don't accuse someone of being a Witch when you want them to heal you! "Uh, that there is a healer here."

"Oh!" She perked up, nodding her head as she smiled. It was easy to see why Chris liked Sister Roper, she was a good woman. "Yes, she's here. Out in the gardens; this way." She beckoned him to follow her, and he did. "When His Lordship made the offer I though there would be more, after so long since Bishop Kendall passed away there were surelymore people in need of healing."

"They said she was, ah... a witch, good Sister." Rod said awkwardly.

"She says so herself!" She tittered.  "A Witch of Gilneas, of Harvests and Blessings, the Old Ways in her words. There are stories, of course, but a good person does not judge others based on stories. She is a good girl, Miss Arevin, very honest about what she does. I haven't had such good debates on theology since Deacon Marric left to join the Silver Hand!"

Rod nodded slowly. If the Sister found the girl to be good, then... there probably weren't anything wrong. Unless she was ensorcelled like Chris claimed.

It had been a long time since Rod had spent any time in the chapel gardens, but even he could tell things were different. Flowers blooming out of season, the trees fruiting generously, everything so vibrant right before the leaves fell.

Only magic could do such a thing, and his skin turned to gooseflesh.

There was only one person in the gardens beside themselves, a small girl of brown hair wearing a fine dress sat leaning against a tree while reading a book. It wasn't the sight one would think of when looking for a Witch, so youthful and seemingly innocent.

"Miss Arevin!" Sister Roper called out, the girl's head lifting.

"Sister, is this one here for healing?"

"I am, miss Arevin." He said, doffing his cap and bowing his head. Witch or no he knew to be polite to a lady. "I've a bad arm and... if you'll forgive me being blunt, even if you curse me, it'd make no difference. My life be cursed as it is."

The Witch snorted. "At least you're honest. Sit," She gestured at the grass in front of her. "Recent or old?"

It took a moment to understand her short question. "Two years past." He said as he carefully lowered himself.

"Hmm... " Quick as a flash she pressed her hands against his bad arm, gently enough it didn't sting, and it tingled. "Shattered badly and healed worse. Still, easy enough to fix. A moment..."

The branches of the tree leaned down, looming over them, like they were supple limbs and not sturdy timber. Rod felt like he was trapped as they brushed close enough to make out the lines on the leaves, the texture of the bark. Was he a fool for coming here?

A single branch grew and twisted right before his eyes, the Witch reaching out and grasping it and pulling it free.

Rod released a breath he didn't know he'd been holding as they retreated.

"Here, bite down on this." She said, handing him the branch. "I've no way to dull the pain and I think neither of us want to have to regrow your tongue. I'll be breaking and regrowing the bone to fix it, won't take long but it'll hurt as bad as when it happened if not more."

Swallowing nervously Rod complied, biting down and following her direction to lay back on the grass. He was too far into it to back out now, no matter how many second thoughts he was having.

True to her word a fiery agony erupted in his shoulder and arm as she worked, the bone twisting and squirming under his flesh. Yet for all he near bit clean through the bridleshe'd given him, it was a scarce few minutes till it was done.

He lay on the grass, panting, yet all that remained in his shoulder was the echo of pain. Tentatively he rolled it, even lifting himself slightly. He marvelled as he lifted it above him and flexed the thin limb in ways he couldn't for years.

"You really healed it." He blurted out, unable to tear his eyes away. "How... how much do I owe you? I've not the coin now, but I... I can earn it."

Off to the side the girl shrugged. "Lord Crowley is paying me to provide aide to his people. Pay me by not being a superstitious lout like so many others."

Rod chuckled. "Can do." He said, pushing himself upright – with both arms! – "That I can do."

He was forgetting something... Oh.

"Ah, miss... Witch..."

"Gwyneth, just call me Gwyneth." She said.

Rod shook his head. "No, Lady Arevin." She was a Mage or a Witch, whichever it was didn't matter; miss weren't respectful enough and Witch weren't polite. Lady it was. "Some of the lads, ol' friends of mine, they were talking about... about coming to drive you off."

She snorted loudly. "They'd lose, but thank you for the warning. I'll see they don't get injured in their attempt."

"It's Chris again, isn't it?" Sister Roper said, an unbefitting frown on her face.

Rod nodded.

"Oh, I'll give that idiot a talking to!" She hiked her skirts and stomped off. The witch snorted amusedly before returning to her book.

When Roderic returned home to his brother with a working arm, they knew immediately what he'd done. There was much fussing and worrying over what curse or price the Witch must've extracted from him... but none came. It might be a long time before they trusted her, but Rod at least was convinced. Being able to live again was worth more than a few good words here or there.

-oOoOo-

"–and if I remember right they should be that way." Miss Arevin said, pointing off towards a rocky outcropping. "I remember seeing that rock formation, it was pretty close. Everything looks very different from down here though."

Hannah glanced sideways at their 'guide', the Witch who was supposed to know where the gryphons were roosting. She wasn't entirely convinced, that she knew or that she was a Witch.

She had met a number of Witches in her life. Any good woodswoman did, outside the chemists in the capital no one else cared to buy the rare herbs like Earthroot the clung to the cliffsides in remote places, or could whip up a tincture to hide one's scent utterly when hunting bears, wolves, or cats.

And with how much a nob like the one she was escorting would pay for a bearskin rug Hannah did a fair bit of bear hunting. Not wolves though, never wolves.

"I think I see one!" Lady Crowley said, pointing into the sky.

Hannah glanced up quickly, drawing up her rifle in case it was–

"Just an eagle." She said, relaxing. If it weren't for seeing one herself she wouldn't even believe their weregryphons in the Ember Hills. She had no problem with big predators, even ones that could squish her with ease if they got close; but ones that flew? It was just unfair. "Not a gryphon."

The Lady withdrew her arm and pouted. It wouldn't do to laugh, the girl could have Hannah's head if she wanted.

Bloody nobs.

They kept trekking along the rough hillside, the knightly Dame clinking and clanking in the armour she refused to ditch, up towards the crag the Witch had seen.

In truth Hannah hoped she was a fraud. A real Witch would be telling the truth, dragging them up to a nest of gryphons; and even with the knight, the pair of soldiers, and her and the other three woodsmen and woman she wasn't sure they'd do well against a flock of gryphons. No doubt they'd take more than one shot to kill, things could tangle with dragonsfrom what she heard. And even if her rifle, the heaviest of the four they had, was meant for bears that didn't mean it could take down a monster like a gryphon easy.

As they crested the top of the slope there was a gust of wind over the rise, making Hannah duck down instinctively. She knewthat feeling.

Last time it was a bloody gnoll that could shoot lightning. Lightning. Blighters could barely put up tents that didn't fall over in a stiff breeze yet could throw lightning around, or knock her bullets off course with wind.

Still got the bastard though. Only worked in one direction and she never ventured into the foothills alone, way too much risk of running into a Wendigo. Or a gnoll or troll. Might not happen in a hundred trips, but it only took one to regret it.

One time she spotted a bunch of orcs; though they didn't spot her and her mate. Lucky as the nether, that was.

There weren't any gnolls around this time, but there weregryphons. A quartet of them flying towards them.

"There they are!" Miss Arevin called out, drawing the attention of the nob to the fliers. "The Matriarch at that."

The lead gryphon was big, bigger than Hannah had thought it would be. She ignored the nob's cooing and took up a position behind the knight; if she was going to wear all that armour she could take the hits. And at least shewas being sensible about the whole thing, hand on her weapon and standing ready for violence.

Other than the big leader, Matriarch – not that Hannah could tell it was a lady gryphon, but she sure as hell weren't arguing with the girl who'd walked up to itand started scratching its beak – there were two more 'normal' sized gryphons, only as big as a horse each, and a smaller one that was maybe only the size of a pony. It was a lot bolder than the other two, who stuck by the Matriarch, and kept peering at them curiously.

"Been a while. Caedan went home to Aerie Peak with Featherstorm, I'm afraid." The Witch said to the gryphon conversationally. "Has everything been good here? There's been some fuss, someone took a bite out of a farmer's flock."

Hannah had been around animals all her life, knew some were brighter than others, knew that it was possible to make them understand you. Even did herself with her dad's best friend Luna when they were still around. So when the gryphon tilted its head and squawked softly she knewit was bright enough to understand just about every word said to it.

"Yeah, I didn't think it'd be yours. But if it keeps happening someone's going to start a hunt for the culprit, and most people are fools. They'll go after any gryphon they can rather than the one eating their sheep."

One of the escorting gryphons puffed up, their feathers standing on end, and let out a low growling hiss.

Only for the Matriarch to bat them with a wing and give a warning chirp.

"Don't get angry at the one here to help." The Witch said, crossing her arms and scaring the horse sized beast dead in the eye. "You know now, so you can avoid those causing problems. You might win onefight, but that'll just start another. And another after that. Eventually you'd lose."

"It's so cute." Lady Crowley muttered, and Hannah's attention was drawn away from the witch's conversation with the gryphon to stare in both fascination and horror as a nob risked her fingers to feed scraps of smoked meat to the little gryphon. Which, mind was still bigger than her. Could take her hand along with her fingers.

"My lady, perhaps you should–" The knight said, reaching out to stop her charge only to be shushed.

"You're startling him." Lady Crowley said, looking decidedly cross. "And he wouldn't hurt me, would you?" She reached out and scratched the back of the little one's neck.

It crooned, tearing more strips of meat from her other hand.

"Ain't startling him at all." Hannah murmured, amazed by the girl treating the mostly grown black and grey beast like a newborn puppy.

"Lorna!" The Witch called. "The Matriarch wants me to go with her, one of her Pride is injured. I'll return before dusk."

"But–" Lady Crowley glanced between the witch and the hatchling, looking rather torn. "Very well." She said dismally.

As Hannah watched the Witch clamber onto the gryphon's back, without a trace of fear on her face, Hannah had to admit she was sodding brave. Or mad. Who in their right mind would trust themselves to a wild beast? Intelligent or not.

Soon enough the four were in flight, heading off into the distance, and their merry band got to work setting up camp. No way to be sure the witch'd be back on time.

Hannah knew the woods around her fairly well, and from up here she could see Emberstone Lake and some of the villages along the shore. It was a good spot; no water anywhere nearby, though. Probably why there weren't any villages within a mile or two. A well wouldd have to be deepto get anything and the land was poor anyway, half rock and gravel.

Good place for birds though, she knew a cliff where a whole slew of them nested and reared their young. Had even scaled it to get some eggs in her youth; made a game of trying to steal and hatch the eggs with her siblings.

At least she got to hear some interesting stories while they waited, of the Knight's time in the Second War as one of Gilnea's soldiers sent to fight with the Alliance. Her experiences being one of the few women soldiers fighting in the war, but mostly what she knew about the Wildhammer and their gryphons.

More than half of it sounded like a fireside tale rather than truth.

But it was still fun to hear.

Eventually, around the time the stars began to come out, the wind shifted and Hannah heard the sound of heavy wing beats. Just at the edge of the ring of firelight the same four gryphons settled down and a somewhat dishevelled Witch stepped off, pausing briefly to fix her hair back into its tie.

"There weren't any problems, were there?" She asked, staying beside the Matriarch.

"Gwen!" Lady Crowley said. "No, no problems. How was the flight? What did you see there?"

"Cold, and a little hatchling who broke his wing." She reached up behind her, pulling out a gryphon with different colourings to the other four, where they were near black it was brown, and their mottled silvery grey was replaced with a snow white. It was a tiny little thing, small enough to be held, that squawked softly and curiously as its oversized and shining eyes peered at them. "She... insisted." The Witch said, sounding strangely at a loss. "I don't have anywhere to keep a gryphon, Lorna, but I don't think I'm allowed to refuse."

With a loud cry the Matriarch took off, the others following her, and left the witch behind with the hatchling.

"I tried, but she insisted." The Witch repeated.

"Oh, Light she's gorgeous." Lady Crowley said, rushing up to scratch the creature's head, and squeeing quietly as it leaned into her.

"Beast like that's gotta eat a lot of meat." Hannah opined. Probably be a full time job just keeping it fed till it could hunt for itself. "Not to mention training. Ain't easy to train a beast like that."

Her fellow woodsmen voiced their agreement. Hannah knew wolves damn well, planned on finding her own pup like her father had and raising it. She'd been putting it off until she had settled properly, stopped drifting, but there'd not been a good spot – or a good man – yet.

"We could keep her with the stables. Vivianne told me about the stablehand her family has who knew them, maybe he could move and help?"

The Witch stood still, staring down at the gryphon in her arms for a few long moments. Then she let out a sigh. "I can't keep him. I can't afford it, no matter how great having a gryphon would be. I don't even have a houseyet."

"You're welcome to stay as long as you need, Gwen. Father was clear on that."

"I know." The Witch nodded once. "But that doesn't mean I can stay forever." There was a long pause as she licked her lips, before she held the gryphon out to Lady Crowley. "Here. You can take better care of him, have your father call for advice on his rearing, and I'll help where I can. But... I've too much to do to raise a hatchling."

Lady Crowley seemed stunned as she took the little bundle of feathers.

Hannah hesitated, biting at the inside of her lip. This was... well, it were anopportunity. "I can't claim to have raised gryphons afore," She said, "but me family's raised wolves, wild beasts, as loyal companions. Smart ones, I mean, me pa's old Luna was a Silverfang. Won't say it's the same, but I could teach some tips he passed down if her ladyship likes."

There was little more valuable to a woodswoman, a hunter, than a Lord's remit. Too often they got called poachers for going out and culling what needed culling to keep the forests good and healthy.

Or hunting what another Lord told them to hunt for their wall.

"Yeah, old James knew his stuff. If Hannah says she can do it, she can." Fred said, supporting her offer.

Lady Crowley finally shook herself out of her stupor. "Gwen, are you sure?" She asked first.

"It's not like you'll keep me away, will you?" The Witch replied, a strained smile on her face.

"No, no. Of course not." Lady Crowley shook her head, though she clutched the little gryphon to her bosom, where it decided to start chewing on her hair. Looking down at what the gryphon was doing Lady Crowley turned to Hannah "Hannah Blake, I tentatively accept your offer. My father has the final decision, but I... will likely need the help."

Hannah smiled broadly. "Of course, your ladyship. Now, you'll want to hold him right, same's true for all little beasts. You gotta support their rump, lest they think they're gonna fall."

With how her luck with men had gone Hannah hadn't expected to end up with anyone to teach, lacking the kids for it, but as students went Lady Crowley would be a good one to have.

-oOoOo-

"Gwen!" Heather exclaimed, dropping her hands and quickly wiping off her hands before wrapping her friend up in a hug. "You don't look like a kid anymore."

"Still short though." Gwen mumbled into Heather's chest, a blush on her cheeks.

Heaher giggled and let her go. "Yep! Just the right size for hugs. What's brought you back to Cliffbottom?"

"A few things." She answered, taking a moment to fix her blouse and straighten our her hair. "First, I'm here to say I've moved a lotcloser. Just over a day and half's ride away, in Crowford. I spent the Autumn and winter getting situated but now that's done with I came by to say hello." She smiled, a finger winding in her bangs as she pointed looked Heather in the eye. "You aremy oldest friend, after all."

Heather smiled back, having Gwen closer would be great! A little odd she wasn't going back to stay with her mentor, it was Celestine, but it was still good. And she knew she'd heard the name of the village before... "Crowford, Crowford..." She muttered, tapping her arm gently. "Isn't that the big town with the Lord's estate?" Not a village at all! Though Gwen wasn't village folk anyway, coming from Keel Harbour.

"The Crowleys, yes. I've been staying with them, though I'll have my own house built this year. Might take more time to get some parts finished, but I'll have somewhere to live soon."

Staying with a lord? What? "You'll be getting your own house?" Heather didn't even know where to startwith the Lordly business, but even just a thirteen year oldgetting a home built for them. "Gwen, what have you been up to?"

Rather than answer Gwen took her hand and pulled her outside. It was late evening, and an unfamiliar horse was hitched beside their home. Wearing actual livery, a full coat made for a horse and everything and done up with dyes. Heather didn't even want to think of how much that cost, and for a horse.

She was curious enough that she didn't question why Gwen was dragging her off, and it didn't take long. They went up to the top of the cliff – the same spot Gwen had shown her how to shape plants before.

It hadn't been much, not compared to what Gwen could do, but it had meant a lotto Heather. And the healing lessons afterword. Mother said most Witches hoarded what they knew, only teaching it to their apprentices, and Gwen just... let it go. Gave it to her for nothing.

And so much good had come of it.

"This isn't easy, so you'll have to cooperate." She said, tugging her down to sit. Having Gwen wrap her arms around her from behind was a little awkward but it was just another kind of hug. "Close your eyes."

"You could tell me what you're doing."

"That'd ruin it, close them."

Heather huffed, bumping her head against her friend, but did as she said.

"Breath in,"

It wasn't like she was a stranger to meditating! Mother wasn't so good at the plant magic, and Heather was only because of Gwen, but they still learned to meditate.

There was a strange taste to the air she breathed. Like it was... like it was drowning her, yet she could still breath. The air empty of nourishment and yet her lungs didn't burn.

"I've only done this with help before so it might not come out too well." Gwen said, her voice sounding strangely ethereal; almost as if she was half there and half not. "You can open your eyes now, but don't freak out. We haven't moved."

Feeling a little nervous Heather opened her eyes. Before her, across a great patchwork of cultivated fields and a great river, with the backdrop of an ocean, was a City. For it could be nothing buta city. She could see wagons meandering down a path, campfires dotted along the road, small villages, and beyond them all even farther away and yet dwarfing them with its sheer scale was a City.

With spires that stretched so high they could almost be the peaks of mountains, that if one stood at the top they must be able to touch the heavens themselves. And it was shining, light twinkling in the evening light and illuminating the violet roofs that adorned each and every building.

"Gwen...?" Heather asked, feeling somewhat awed. "What is this?"

"Dalaran. The City of Magic."

That was Dalaran? No, that was amazing, but it wasn't what she wanted to know!

"No, I mean, what is this? What are you doing? Howare you doing it? It's almost like the visions from our initiation, but less... overwhelming." Even if it was less that didn't mean it wasn't. Her eyes were watering and the feeling of drowning on dry land refused to leave entirely. "This isn't anything like what you did before! I haven't heard of anything like this at all, where did you learn it? Did you find another Coven somewhere?"

Gwen let out a giggle, squeezing Heather from behind. The vision of wonder abated, and for all it meant she could breath easier Heather was sad to see it go.

"No, I didn't find a coven. I went to Dalaran, and I learned a lot. They have a branch of magic called Astromancy." She waved a hand through the air, a trail of twinkling lights forming behind it; drifting gently into a familiar constellation, the Mammoth. "The study of the stars to call on their power, their shape and essence, to wield here on Azeroth. Sound familiar?"

It did! "Like a combination of shaping and astrology! But I've never seen anythinglike this, or even heard of it." Heather reached up, trying to snatch one of the stars out of the air – only to be disappointed they were just as substantial as the air they floated in. Pouting she twisted, turning until she was nose to nose to Gwen and gripping her by the shoulder. "But that didn't answer my question! What wasit?" She pressed.

Gwen blushed. "Um, it was an illusion. A vision of Dalaran as it is seen from a distance. I couldn't show you any closer if I wantedto, they've wards against scrying and I'm an amateur at it. But... it's like casting your vision out, to see from an animal's eyes," Gwen said, as if Heather had any idea how to do that!"Except with stars and starlight. Although, to be honest, I learned the Astral divinations first. I figured out the vision sharing trick more recently."

Heather had thought Gwen amazing, second only to Celestine herself, when she had last been here. But here she was talking about things Heather hadn't even heard of in the stories. Melding, or becoming so close to an animal wasin the stories, but... starlight? Seeing things from the starspoint of view? Heather felt giddy at the possibilities.

She had never been ambitious. She just wanted to settle down with a good boy, have children, and teach them to be witches too. To help people.

But what she lovedwas magic. Even when she wasn't very good at it she loved seeing what she could do with it, growing her own boatto take out onto the lake with what Gwen showed her. It still wasn't done but she was learning so much.

"Can you teach me?" Heather pleaded, "Please? I don't have anything to offer, but–"

"Of course!" Gwen said, giggling again and pushing Heather away slightly. In a moment of her own embarrassment she realised she'd been in Gwen's face all along, practically pinning her to the ground. She'd been so rude! "Of course I will." Gwen continued, smiling. "That's one of the reasons I came up here. I want to teach, not... not like mater and apprentice but to ease people into magic. To give a chance for those who want to learn to tryand learn."

Heather sat up, shuffling away. "Thank you." She said, wringing her hands. "Is it safe? Your idea? You're strong enough, and the villagers like me well enough, but..." What if they are attacked, they won't be strong enough to defend themselves. What if...

"Lord Crowley is sponsoring them." Gwen answered, "I don't think they will be true Witches. I don't think many people have the right mindsetfor it, or the talent, but if even tenpeople learn to heal? It's worth it. There aren't enough of us to fulfil Gilneas' needs, and so long as we remain in hiding the people remain ignorant of who we really are. Understanding and familiarity breeds tolerance, not time."

"You want us to be accepted." Heather said, seeing the core of her plan. It was... it was ambitious. "I... I don't know if I can help." She muttered sadly.

She was well known in her village, some people from neighbouring villages came to be healed by her as the word spread. Everyone in Cliffbottom was proudto have her around, greeted her in the street. Dom was ridiculedfor getting caught with Bessy after kissing her.

But that was just a village or three. Not... not all of Gilneas.

"I need someone to help me learn how to teach. How to pass knowledge on. Someone I knowcan use magic, and tell me if I'm taking for granted what Ican do that others can't." Gwen said.

Heather bit her lip. It sounded easy, but...

Gwen took Heather's hand between hers and clasped it. "Please?"

Heather nodded. "I'll do it. I will! Of course I will!" She said, pumping herself up. Gwen was her friend, she was asking for help, and there was still a debt.

As Gwen broke out in to a joyous smile Heather knew she'd made the right choice. The idea of being involved with a Lord like Lord Crowley, of venturing away from her home, of breaking from tradition so much, was scary. But Gwen was her friend and she was asking for help. She owed her a debt for teaching her so much already, and she was going to learn more now too.

Her mother would worry. She worried already because Heather was so well know. But Gwen was right, there weren't enough of them. Gilneas needed more Witches.