Interstitial - 4 (An Order of Amber) (Patreon)

Jonas hefted his staff as he walked down the Gilnean road, dearly regretting not learning to ride in his younger years. Once upon a time he'd enjoyed the hike, the wandering, spending most of his time as a journeying mage and seeking out talented youths on behalf of Dalaran. What need had he had of a horse, of learning to ride, when he could simple 'port himself back home if he ever grew tired of his travels?

Well, now he knew. Ever since he'd settled back into the city to help rebuild after that damn Warlock sacked it for artefacts and ran off back through the Portal, may the Sons of Lothar rest in peace with the Light, he'd given up journeying.

There were still others who went out to seek out talent but Jonas still had some of his old connections, and one sent him a letter. Someone in Gilneas was teaching magic.

As the township came into sight, the right one unless he'd read the road signs wrongly, he breathed a sigh of relief. Crowford wasn't the deepest in Gilneas but it waspast that new wall that was just nearing completion.

A month and a half of hiking from his home in Tirisfal. He sure as the nether wasn't walking back.

"Hello good sir." He called to the first man he saw. "I am Jonas, Mage of Dalaran." Magus, but few of the bumpkins would know the difference and confusing them never helped matters. "I've business around here; this is Crowford, yes?"

The man glanced to his sides, as if hoping Jonas was asking another instead of him. "It is, yep." He said eventually, the most awful accent to his words.

"Excellent." It would've been quite embarrassing if he'd gotten lost. "I've heard word of some hedge mage teaching lessons around here. It's nothing to do with normal folk, but I'm to ensure there's no foul play afoot. Can't be too careful about things, can we?"

Normally Jonas would expect such statements to reassure, but if anything it seemed to raise the man's heckles.

"What do you want with Lady Arevin?" He demanded.

Lady Arevin? Were they some noble's spawn who started up their own little magic cult? Wouldn't be the first time he'd seen such a thing. Most were fortunately convinced to take the journey to Dalaran, where they could gain better tutelage.

Other times things went horribly wrong, he'd aided the Silver Hand in putting down more than one group of imps summoned by those who thought they knew better than their elders.

"Nothing malign, I assure you." Jonas said, holding up his hand placatingly. "I just wish to ensure the safety of those this Lady Arevin is teaching. Nothing more than that."

As he thought on it the name seemed oddly familiar. A rumour of some sort, perhaps? It wasn't anyone he had met personally.

Slowly the man nodded. "She lives down by the river, past the Tree Bridge. It's the big mill house with the garden." He said, though he still seemed cautious. "Or ye might find her at the chapel, she does healing there with Sister Roper and the kids."

Healing with a Sister and children? Jonas felt his concern growing, his source had been adamant that the hedge mage had not been a Priest of any sort, and those few ways to healwithout the Light involved darker things. There had been some hullabaloo about another method of healing, a Magus Corrinth or something, but as far as he knew it never went anywhere. Likely a farce to gain further research into the dead-end that was Biomancy.

"I am surprised to hear she helps the good Priest with her work." Jonas said.

Snorting the man shook his head. "The Sister helps her."

Jonas gripped his staff more tightly. "Would you mind escorting me, my good man? If you've no pressing business."

He took a moment to examine Jonas before nodding. "I suppose. Chapel's this way, you can't miss it. Don't think they'll be there now though."

True to what the man said there was no mage at the chapel, merely a pleasant woman who served as the sole representative of the Light in these parts. Was Gilneas' church truly so threadbare it couldn't spare a single real Priest to a town such as this? If it was Lordaeron there would be several, and any whisper of foul magics reported to the Silver Hand and passed on to Dalaran in an instant.

While the Gilneans weren't so bad as to worship a jumped up elemental like the Kul Tirans they were still lackingin so many ways.

There had even been a scandal surrounding one of theirs who had apprenticed in Dalaran, spreading foul rumours about the future. Stirring up discontent. A petty and shallow parting gift from a petty and shallow king. Last he remembered they had been thrown out before Prince Arthas came to study for a time, under the pretence of furthering Alliance relations while he courted the young Proudmoore.

She at least was properly educated, and a good match.

Jonas took a moment to pray at the chapel for his success. He did not wish to confront this Warlock directly just yet, one subtle enough to mask their draining and theft of life as healingby giving a portion of it to another would be clever. Clever enough to be dangerous.

He would need to enlist the aid of local forces to be successful here. But first he needed to be certain.

Once he had finished his prayer he collected his guide from where he had been speaking to the good Sister and started their way out of town. His old knees were beginning to protest the travel once again, but he kept up. It wouldn't be far.

"There it is." The peasant said, pointing out the sole building ahead of them. It was built large and of solid stone, a heavy water wheel sitting in a channel built to accommodate it. Whoever had desired such a place built had been flush with coin somehow. And of strange tastes. Jonas could think of few uses such a mill would be put towards by a Warlock, and yet there must be.

"Thank you my good man, I do believe I can take it from here." Jonas said. And if the man was an accomplice, ensorcelled or beguiled in some way, then it was better he was absent. "Thank you for your time."

The man paused, hesitating, before bowing. "Happy to be of service." He said, then turning to leave.

Jonas paid him little mind, weaving a simple divination. Warlocks were not normallysubtle, and easy enough to detect, but as this one was clever Jonas was not particularly surprised when there was no result, no contamination of his magic by the Fel.

"Hmm." Moving closer, yet stepping off of the path and angling to keep the house's garden of trees between himself and its windows, he continued to test with more complicated arrays. But found nothing.

"Hands on it is." He muttered, carefully pulling a runed stone from a his belt pouch and placing it beside the road before weaving the web for true invisibility over himself. His form shimmered and disappeared from view, the world he could see shifted into muted greys as the spell substituted the light that would pass through where he eyes were.

Rather than force his way through the bushes and hedgerow he charged a simple blink, arriving on the opposite side.

It was a strangely serene place, peaceful and calm. But there was magic here, centred on the willow tree by the river and the standing stones that stood before it. A quick divination told Jonas little, the magic too strange for him to make sense of.

He'd never done well with Biomancy, and the tree was very much part of it. Along with a connection to another place of some sort; the beginnings of a gateway to the Twisting Netherl? A disguised circle for summoning demons?

"Inviting oneself in is quite rude." A voice said behind him.

Slowly Jonas stepped to the side, still sure of his invisibility, and looked at the individual. A young woman, albeit a short one. And her bright amber eyes were staring right at him; even if they were not perfectly focused.

"Hiding from your host is even more rude." She said, placing her hands on her hips.

Feeling slightly alarmed Jonas allowed his invisibility to fade, but immediately began preparing another spell. Not to start a fight, he was not so foolish as that, but to allow him to escape.

One did not survive thirty years as a journeying mage without knowing when to ditch a bad situation.

"I do apologise, but I was ever so curious." He waved a hand over the garden with a smile. "I simply couldn't help but investigate what you have here for myself."

She eyed him suspiciously. "And how did you come to be here, mister mage?"

"Oh, I received a letter. An old friend of mine spoke of a woman so generous as to teach the locals a bit of magic, I spent a long time as a recruiter for Dalaran you see. Helped many a young boy or girl achieve their dream of learning magic for themselves." Jonas smiled widely, letting his honest emotions seep through. "Ah, I forget myself. My name is Jonas Worthwell, Magus of Dalaran."

He bowed with a flourish, using the movement to hide the gestures that would let him return to his marker with a single word.

"Gwyneth Arevin, Witch of Gilneas." She said, crossing her arms under her chest and glaring at him. "I do indeed offer teaching to those with the aptitude to learn. I've focused on the practical, such as healing, and my best student is doing quite well for herself."

She didn't even hide what she was, and had inducted others into her foul works. How the locals had not realised and sought to remove her Jonas did not know; Jonas felt his heckles rise, he would have to work quickly once he departed.

"That sounds quite impressive. Would you mind if I sat in on..." He frowned. Gwyneth Arevin, Gweyneth Arevin... "You're the girl who spread all those lies about King Terenas dying due to his son!" He exclaimed, recognising the name at last.

The moment he did, he realised his mistake. He was ready to trigger the spell and escape at the first sign of–

"Seriously?" The girl said, a disgusted look on her face. "That messstill haunts me." She grumbled. "Yes, I told people about my visions. Repeatedly. And what fool I was speaking to those who wouldn't listen."

Jonas had expected her to attack him for antagonising her, not deride herself. Feeling brave he dared to wait a moment longer, to gather more information.

"You spoke of visionsof the Prince, but those with far more experience, and indeed respect, gave you all the time one such as you deserved and denounced you." A false prophet speaking doom, who when her madness was not listened to turned to dark powers to feel in controls. Hardly a new tale. "You will not succeed here, in corrupting your own people. Witch."

She stared at him blankly, only the faintest hint of anger in her eyes as she held a stoic facade. "Thank you for coming, Chris, but there isn't any real trouble here. My guestwas just leaving." She said, not speaking to him at all.

"You sure, Lady Arevin?" The man who had escorted Jonas to the millhouse said, his miserable accent easy to recognise.

Turning Jonas saw a mob milling through the gate in the hedgerow, half a dozen men, that again in women, and Sister Roper amongst those leading them.

"Quite sure. He's been planning on leaving a while now, had a spell prepared and all." She said, waving a hand at him dismissively.

Roots dug out of the earth, threatening to entangle him, but not quite doing so.

"If he hadn't I would have restrained him for Lord Crowley. Mage or not, he istrespassing."

Taking that as his cue, Jonas triggered his spell. Vanishing from the spot and falling to the ground where he had left his stone. He snatched it up, stuffing it into his pocket, and started jogging down the road and blinking regularly to speed his trek. His knees be damned, he needed to move swiftly.

She had mentioned a Lord Crowley, who was likely the local lord. Jonas would have to farther afield to find aid in removing someone who had so successfully ensorcelled the townsfolk and leadership. Perhaps even so far as the Silver Hand.

-oOoOo-

Irwen sat quietly as she watched her daughter work, a strange nostalgia filling her from the days where they would sit and knit patches into their clothing together. She had done her best back then to provide, to keep her little girl warm during the cold winters. Each smile filled face saying it was fine, they could just snuggle up closer for warmth a knife digging into her heart saying she had failed.

She shook her head; she couldn't think like that! She... she couldn't. Or she would lose her again.

"Drat." Gwen said, and Irwen clenched hard into the wood of her chair. "Another broken line... too much tension? Probably too much tension." She muttered.

Unlike back then Irwen wasuseless now. She didn't know where to begin to help with what Gwen was doing, having little to do save to pass a tool when asked. The machine that spun thread with power from the waterwheel was beyond her entirely, and she certainly couldn't help her daughter fix it.

No one could, she had made it herself.

Irwen had known since her daughter spoke her first words, had interspersed a language that no one she had encountered knew hide nor hair about, that her little girl was Reincarnated. Blessed with a past life of some sort. It had been part of her reasoning as to why she would be fine without her, why her presence was stiflingnot nurturing. The machine, the pens, the ideas and plans, all of her thoughts, only made that ever more clear.

"I think you need an assistant." Irwen said, wishing it could be her. But even if she could learn they weren't close enough still.

This was the first time she was visiting, and Gwen diving into her devices showed she was avoiding thinking about something. Which could only be her.

Worthless.

Failure.

And she she had still invited her to stay. To see her work. She hadto believe the rift could be mended. She had to.

"None willing to move out here." Gwen grumbled. "All the human engineers live in the city, all the gnomes are being forced out by our idiot king, and the dwarves are well established themselves."

"Could you teach someone?" Irwen asked, her daughter was proving a more able tutor of magic than she had ever been. If she was using the knowledge from her old life she could surely impart it onto another the same way?

"No." She sighed. "I'm a novice, only reason I finished my pens–" she waved at the desk where her eye wateringly expensive tools lay, alongside a finished albeit unadorned pen. "– was because I knew it was possibleand used trial and error. And they are, while precise, fairly simple. It was as much the tools as me, and now... now it's all me and I stillfail as often as I succeed in making the damn things."

"I thought..." Irwen shook her head, cutting herself off. She couldn't pry.

Couldn't demand answers. If Gwen wanted to open up about who she had been before, a gnome or a dwarf, or something else, she would do it in her own time.

There was a clink as Gwen put down her. She rubbed at her eyes tiredly. "I need a break. Would you like to see Donovan?" She asked abruptly.

"Who?" Was her little girl seeing a boy now? Would she make the same mistake as her mother?! "Who's Donovan?" Irwen tried to keep the worry out of her voice, the idea of her little blessing running off with a boy–

"Lorna's gryphon." Gwen said, "He's not fully grown up yet, but he's getting close to being big enough to ride. Lorna adoreshim."

It wasn't a boy? Irwen breathed a sigh of relief. A gryphon, a gryphon like the one her daughter had ridden to go looking for her.

"Yes, I'd like that."

In truth she didn't feel too comfortable with the idea of being around a large predatory beast like that, but if it was with Gwen she'd do it. And do it with a smile on her face. Things were getting better. Things wouldget better.

-oOoOo-

Darius had always known Godfrey was an odious man, who who thought himself better due to his family's privilege and long history. It was an affliction many a noble of Gilneas had, one his father had proudly claimed the Greymanes lacked– and perhaps under Archibald they had. But Godfrey was amongst the worst. In name Darius was the same rank as the man, a Duke if one observed the formalities that had long fallen out of favour. And yet Godfrey made it clear that he, with his family that had been close to the Kings of Gilneas for a thousand years or more, was a step abovethe likes of House Crowley.

For all they had agreed on the necessity of Gilneas aiding the Alliance at the time of the Second War he seemed wholeheartedly behind Genn's planned wall. And he had since learn the man had been behind the choice of location for the Wall, cutting off more than half of Crowley's lands and all of Marley's.

Although Darius' many peers considered him an upstart, with bare centuries of history and service behind his house, none had the gallto attack him so blatantly as Godfrey had.

Nor would any other, save the King himself who had that right, have the arrogance to ride into his lands with an armed column, small as it might be. The only reason Darius had a warning at all was the initiative of a young boy to saddle his own horse and ride ahead to give word of their passing.

"How are preparations?" Darius asked Rodger, his Butler.

"The general staff are waiting in the hall, per your instructions, sir." Rodger said with an incline of his head. "The cooks are frantic in trying to put together a proper meal for the evening, but I have been assured there shall be three courses prepared."

Darius nodded his head. It was sufficient.

"My daughter?"

"Has been found, a rider used a flare to call her back from riding Donovan. She is in her rooms changing to more appropriate attire." Rodger said, then hesitated a moment before continuing. "Are you sure it is wise to permit her, sir?"

Glancing at the old man Darius pondered his exact meaning. It was not that riding a gryphon was unbecoming for a lady, for such notions were put aside when the lady in question was heir to an estate. Tobias' daughter was a scandal because she was a second child not because of her martial obsessions.

No, Rodger was worried for his daughter's life.

A feat Darius felt as well, even with Keeland responding to his letters and even visitingto ensure they were raising the 'wee little laddie' right. In all those years Darius had forgottenhow imposing a Wildhammer atop their gryphon could be. And his daughter would be following a similar path...

"I could no more refuse her than I could stop the wall from being built." Darius said. Lorna had made her position clear, she had been gifted the gryphon by one of her dear friends and would raise him, learn to ride him, and do them proud. At least it was less foolish than Genn's madness. "Wise or not it is as it is."

"As you say, sir." Rodger said, bowing his head.

Even after three years the man still had reservations about their resident Witch. It was no matter, Rodger was his man through and through and wouldn't gainsay him. Darius had found Gwyneth useful and confoundingin spades. Her healing along warranted her presence, but her aid in the aftermath of the flood... more would have died of chill that spring had she not made shelter for them.

He tapped his pen against the page, drawing a faint line. And then there were her inventions. He had see the inside of her workshop, a dozen contraptions unfinished and in prototyping. The only one finished enough to deserve Darius' aid in obtaining a Royal Patent was the pen.

From what he knew the royalties paid by those in the capital creating ever more ornate pens based on her design was coming close to equalling what he paid her as a healing stipend. Where did a girl her age get such ideas? And that without questioning whether or not the predictions she made of the future would come true; orcs stealing ships from Southshore, a plague in the north... She had enough trust he would wait and see. If they came true he would listen further, but until then, he would abide by her own words. Trust but Verify.

"Sir, they should be arriving soon." Rodger said.

Darius nodded, setting down his pen. His correspondence with Lord Haggen could keep.

"Very well, I shall meet Lord Godfrey in the entrance hall." The man would take it as an offence that Darius didn't greet him outside, or at the gates of his estate, like a lesser noble might. But for all Godfrey thoughthimself superior, Darius had no reason to pander to him.

Especially not when he trampled upon custom himself.

As he stood ready in the hall he could not help but fill with pride at the assembly, his daughter at his side was the spitting image of her mother at that age and stood resolutely without a shred of anxiety or nervousness about her. His staff, from the maids to the footmen, from the stableboys to the gardeners, were arranged in neat rows and well dressed. Darius understood that his duty as a noble was to his people, and of them all were not his staff the people closest to him?

He treated them well, and they served them well in turn. As was right.

At a pre-arranged signal Rodger moved to open the doors for their guests, to welcome them in, but they were instead thrown open. Lord Godfrey marching in with his sword cane tucked under his arm and two soldiers flanking him, still wearing their chain and Godfrey livery. Their swords were mercifully sheathed, though their hands rested upon them.

Perhaps Darius had overestimatedGodfrey's sense of propriety.

"Crowley!" Godfrey shouted, the light from the chandelier glinting off of his monocle. "You stand accused of aiding the spread of foul magics, permitting your people to be ensorcelled and bewitched, and allowing one expelled from Dalaran for her madness to corrupt the youth of your domain. What say you?"

Darius' attention swept across the others in Godfrey's party swiftly. The man in full plate armour, heavier than even Dame Hilda wore, was a Paladin. The Silver Hand displayed proudly on his chest if the shining aura around him was insufficient. And one Darius recognised, undermining Godfrey's spurious accusation.

Then there was the man in robes. A wizened old man with a greying beard he was the very sterotype of a Mage, and easily recognisable from the description of Gwyneth's trespasser.

Lorna was bristling at his side, putting together whom the accusation had truly been levelled at as swiftly as Darius had. He twitched his hand gently, drawing her attention, and she schooled herself once more.

"I did not know you were an expert on magic, Lord Godfrey." Darius drawled, there was nothing to fear here. For all Crowley had brought soldiers he was still outnumbered. A subtle gesture to Rodger had him ushering those of his men unsuited to combat from the hall, and he would gather the rest of the footmen shortly. Darius did not expect things to come to battle but one did not act upon expectationsalone. "And I am saddened you are ill informed. I do indeed have one expelled from Dalaran in my lands, though they were expelled for the reason of his majesty announcing our departure from the Alliance. Not madness."

While Godfrey bore the counterargument without a single hint of emotion the Mage's expression flickered as he winced. Fool had said the same to Gwyneth directly, and nowhe realises it was in error?

"And you fail to deny the rest. An admission of guilt would allow lenience, Crowley."

"Hardly." Darius said, drawing the word out. "It is a fine day to meet you again, Sir Morgoth." Darius said, greeting the Paladin. "Though I cannot say the same for you, Jonas. Trespass and spying on one who holds a Royal Patent is not a light crime here in Gilneas."

"So you arein communion with the Witch." Jonas accused, missing the point of Darius' words. For all Darius despaired at the ignorance of his own countrymen when it came to the world beyond Gilneas seeing it in one from the City of Magic stung. Did they not claim to be better? Did they not pride themselves on understandingrather than base bigotry? "Do not fear, Lord Crowley, your people will be unharmed. The curse shall be lifted and the foul magic cleansed, I assure you."

"I do hope it is a fine day to meet, Lord Crowley." Morgoth said politely, tipping his head in a show of respect. "Yet I fear you must answer the accusations. Such things cannot be taken lightly, and the Truth must be uncovered so Justice can be delivered."

Darius smiled. "Indeed it must."

"Then there is little reason to waste time." Godfrey sneered. "You will provide to us where your foul little witchling is hiding along with all those she has corrupted, it has been many a year since there has been a witch trial and all crimes shall be laid to account in it."

Gwyneth would be furious, and yet Darius felt a grim satisfaction grow within him. King Archibald had sought to bring Gilneas into a new age through innovation, to copy the works of Ironforge in Gilneas, and as such those who held a Royal patent had protections. This was something he could bring to Genn to demand concessions.

Especially since he had personally gifted one of Gwyneth's first pens, and the only one she had decorated, to Prince Liam himself. The boy had even confided in him after a mere three daysthat he could not imagine returning to using quills.

Perhaps control over the Gate would be appropriate? Godfrey had ensured it sat in hislands, yet Crowley's stretched across both sides of the wall. It would not even be a greattransfer, and the burden of controlling the border would fall upon him instead of the clearly overworked Lord Godfrey... it would be worth the attempt.

"Lorna," Darius said, "Would you go and fetch Gwyneth for us? I do believe Sir Morgoth would wish to meet the girl he praised so highly."

The Paladin raised a curious brow, clearly working to recall who Darius could be speaking of.

"Yes, father." Lorna said. "Lord Godfrey, Sir Morgoth." She bid the two farewell, ignoring the mage entirely, as she strode past the guards. The air was tense for a brief moment, Darius' men ready to leap to her defence.

"Let her pass." Godfrey said. "I am glad you saw reason, Crowley."

Darius snorted. "No, I merely thought the girl whom Morgoth proclaimed worthy of praise, and whose work bore no evil, was one he would wish to meet."

"Ah!" Morgoth proclaimed, smiling radiantly. A Paladin's ability to seemingly glow when they smiled was a strange, yet charismatic, thing. "I see now. Yes, I would be glad to meet this Gwyneth, Lord Crowley."

"Gwyneth is the name of the Witch, Paladin." Jonas said, a frown on his face. He seemed less certain than before.

"Then I suspect we have little to fear. Good Mage Spellwaker declared her magic strange and unfamiliar yet sensed no foulness." Morgoth said, apparently unaware of how he undermined Lord Godfrey with every word. "Nor did I. There was Light in her work, a shining beacon of Valour which sang with sorrow. Indeed, I suspect there has been a misfortunate misunderstanding." He turned to Lord Godfrey and addressed him. "Lord Godfrey, perhaps it would be well to order your men to stand down."

"You would trust the word of one likely compromised?" Lord Godfrey said derisively. "Magus Worthwell said the town had been ensorcelled. What prevents Crowley from being the same?"

"Lord Godfrey." Morgoth said, his friendly demeanour falling away and the veteran warrior of the Second War taking his place. "I said that it would be well for your men to stand down."

It was well Darius knew how to control his emotions, or else he would burst out laughing as half of Lord Godfrey's men relaxed, taking their hands away from their sheathed swords. And then the rest followed suit in turn. The man himself did not appeared distressed or strained, but from long years of having to interact with the man Darius could tell he was furious. It was the way he cleaned his monocle, he only ever did that when he needed to maintain calm.

Darius would remember this day fondly in the future, watching the odious man's authority ripped out from under him by one he brought as an ally. And worse yet, one he would consider a servantand not a peer.

"Thank you, Lord Godfrey, for understanding." Morgoth said, smiling as he returned to his previous state.

A few of Darius staff muttered amongst themselves over Godfrey doing no such thing.

"Be it as it may, an investigation should still be performed." Godfrey said grimly.

"On that, I do agree." Morgoth said, to the relief of Jonas who sighed audibly.

"If you would join me in my parlour we might have refreshments while my daughter fetches Inventor Arevin." An uncommon title, but technically one held by all Patent Holders. Oh, the way Godfrey's eyes snapped up to Darius show he understood his earlier blunder. Darius smiled back to his peer in a friendlymanner. "Rodger, see to the men's needs. A warm meal would surely be welcome after hard day's ride."

For all they were intruders, near enough invaders, it would not do to appear an ungracious host. They were few enough Godfrey could use the pretence they were bodyguards and any perceived slight against him would reduce Darius' leverage in the eyes of their peers.

He had few enough allies as it is to be alienating some by refusing to feed half a dozen men.

"As you wish, my lord." Rodger said, bowing deeply and setting to matters.

Dame Hilda shadowed him as Darius lead their party, two Lords, a Mage, a Paladin, and a Knight, to his parlour. There was silence as they settled in after Darius made the common polite offerings, and only Jonas took him up on them. Morgoth was content to stand in his armour with his eyes closed, in a manner not dissimilar to the state he had found Gwyneth in beside her tree on more than one occasion.

A quiet contemplation of magic. One of the reasons Magic and Rulership rarely went hand in hand, the dedication necessary to each role was immense. For all the girl was clever beyond her years he was of the opinion she spread herself too thin with her attempts at invention, teaching, study, and performing her duties.

But she hadearned his respect for her efforts.

Godfrey stood with his hands clasped behind his back and stared out the windows, out onto the gardens. He made all the right courtesies, presented himself properly, but was disinterested with engaging in talk. Something Darius was glad for; he would sooner ring the neck of the man who had masterminded Genn's wall than befriend him.

Jonas, however, was the most interesting. He sat with a contemplative look on his face, often glancing at Morgoth, while he sipped at his tea.

The clock on the wall slowly ticked the minutes away, but thankfully it was not overly long before his daughter returned – her hair faintly askew from flying – with his Witch in tow.

She had grown more mature since she had arrived in his lands and taken the position offered to her by Lorna, the softness of youth falling away into the lines of young maiden. She had grown more confident, more self assured, more certain of herself. Gaining clear strength from the acclaim and respect she won from his people. Some still reviled her, yet most would leap to her defence.

Some of his men who had cleared a mine of Kobolds that had broken in and driven off the miners only lived thanks to her work.

"Inventor Arevin." Darius said, standing to greet her. Her eyes shone with recognition as he used her title, it was a time for formality. "I am glad you could join us."

"I apologise for the delay, my lord." She said, curtsying near perfectly. It had taken months of lessons before she was fit for court, but she had learned. "I was busy helping a young boy recover from a Flu."

Godfrey seemed about to snap at her for her tardiness when Morgoth overrode him.

"A fine cause, you have not harmed us by the wait." Morgoth said, smiling for a moment before his expression turned grim. "But there have been grave accusations levelled against you. So,as Morgoth, Paladin of the Silver Hand, I must ask: Will you consent to my tests?"

Gwyneth eyed the Paladin for a moment before speaking. "If you provide assurances, on the honour of the Silver Hand, that they mean no harm, then I consent. Though perhaps not to the Mage's, he has already proven incapable of keeping out of business that is not his."

"And allow you to hide your true nature?" Godfrey asked, peering down his nose at Gwyneth. "It is as if you wish to announce your guilt by refusing to be put to trial."

She stared back at him quietly. "There are many things I could say to you Lord Godfrey, but what I saw for you won't come to pass. In the end it doesn't matter at all. You barely matter."

He scoffed in turn. "And hear the rot she speaks! Is this how you fell under her sway, Crowley? I should have her arrested for the insult alone."

Morgoth laid a gauntleted hand on Godfrey's shoulder. "I would ask for patience, Lord Godfrey." He said in a tone the brooked no disobedience.

Godfrey, however, stepped aside out of his grip. Pointedly brushing off his shoulder. "Do you test then, Paladin, so that we might know the truth."

"It's amusing that he thinks he's safe here." Gwyneth muttered quietly, only proximity allowing Darius to hear what she was saying to his daughter. "The sheer arroganceis impressive."

"Hush." Lorna muttered back. "Later."

"If I might take you hand?" Morgoth said. Gwyneth easily placed her hand in his, her small stature dwarfed by the Paladin's stature. She could weigh less than just his pauldrons. There was silence as both of them closed their eyes, something in the air that drew the Mage's gaze, and somethingpassed between them.

Morgoth let go, nodding his head. "As I said at that time, Lord Crowley. There is no evil here."

"So thatis what the Light feels like." Gwyneth said, flexing her fingers and staring at them.

"Oh? I thought you would have known. You called Valour itself into the graves of those you laid to rest in Turin's Clearing." Morgoth said, his brow arching curiously. "I had thought such had been your intent."

"Really?" Gwyneth said, a surprised smile blooming on her face. "That was my intent, yes, but... I had no way to know if my call would be heard, I could only hope it would be answered. Thank you, Morgoth, for telling me."

"You are welcome. I too was glad to find it; a sign there are those beyond the Silver Hand who venture forth to right the wrongs of the world." He said, then clenched his hand over his heart and bowed slightly. "Thank you for your service to those in need and for defending those who could not defend themselves."

A flurry of expressions crossed over Gwyneth's face. "I am honoured, Sir Morgoth." She said.

"Jonas, it is time for your tests." Godfrey said with as close to clear irritation as could be extracted from the man.

"No." Lorna said, stepping between Godfrey and her friend. "These are not your lands, Godfrey. You do not have authority here. Nor is the mage subject to your demands." She turned her frosty gaze to Jonas. "You will pay a fine for trespass, as is proper. Simply being a mage does not place you above the law."

"Well spoken, Lord Crowley." Morgoth said to her brightly. "But though Lord Godfrey does not hold authority over a Mage of Dalaran, he might still choose to act. And all here would be reassured–"

"No." Jonas said, shaking his head. His first words in quite some time. "I bore witness to your test, Sir Morgoth. I am capable of no better. The Light burns the Fel readily, she is... not what I thought she was. I have brought about a great misunderstanding." He stopped, clearly unwilling to apologisefor his mistake.

After a moment Godfrey straightened his coat. "Very well then. Lord Crowley, I thank you for your hospitality, but I must return to my work on the Wall. The final stages must be overseen carefully. I bid you good day."

"Good day, Lord Godfrey." Darius said, granting the man leave. Today had been a fine day indeed to see the back of that man. They might have been allies in convincing Genn to join the Alliance once, but their politics were unlikely to ever align again and after today the bad blood would only grow.