Amber - 8 (Patreon)

It took some time before Frazzle was coherent again, walking with me towards the stream. Her eyes were puffy and red, her nose still running slightly. Some of that was easy enough to fix with magic; for the rest she really just needed a chance to wash herself.

I'd always been an ugly crier before, I wasn't sure if that was still the case now but I knew not to draw attention to it.

Anything could make her feel worse.

"I'm here if you need me, okay?" I said, smilingly gently.

"Okay," She murmured, averting her eyes down at her feet. "It's stupid. I'm twice your age. It... I..."

"Don't." I snapped quickly, quickly letting my voice turn gentle. "Don't measure your worries and fears by how others react. You never properly recovered from the Ghoul attacking you before you set out, did you? I'm not surprised you're stressed." Even with me being short for a human it was still awkward to reach down and put a hand on her shoulder. I didn't want to condescend to her by rubbing her head like a child. "And I'm not exactly normal, I don't think anyone who knows so much of the future can be."

She stayed quiet, and I let it be, as she washed up. Looking away and ignoring the sounds of a blowing nose or the few hiccoughing sobs that she let out.

I had been in that kind of state too many times before to judge someone else.

It was hard to tell how I should feel about this. Should I be glad that she had broken through the wall to come and tell me? Should I be glad that she remembered what I said and, for some reason, trusted me enough from our brief encounters to seek me out for advice?

She had escaped the fate that was coming for Dalaran. And her family had too; though Gnomeregan wasn't safe either.

Frazzled tugged at my sleeve when she was done, staring up at me with worriedly curious eyes. She'd undone her hair and let it hang loose, pink locks falling everywhere in a damp mess. "How much do you know? How... how far out?"

"I–" My mouth clicked shut quickly. How did I want to answer that? "Too much, too little," I said, prevaricating. My memory wasn't any better than it had been as a child, and my notes had focused so much on the immediate threat of the Third War, the Scourge, and what would plague Gilneas that I honestly couldn't even remember what happened most recently in the story.

Sylvanas had done something?

I hadn't done something as stupid as forgetting Wrathion, or that I hated him for some reason. But I couldn't remember why I hated him. What did he do to make me think he was almost as bad as his father?

One day I would have to fix the memory ritual, somehow. And get that all back.

"I've forgotten more than I remember, Frazzle," I said, letting out a tired sigh. "I could give you a rough outline going out ten years or more, but dates? Names? Almost all of them are lost. Forgotten as I grew up. Maybe when all of this is over I can find someone to listen to it all; Lady Jaina, Thrall, Carine Bloodhoof, King Magni... I'd even settle for Varian if I had to." I shook my head, there were so many problems with using Varian as a contact. Not as bad as Genn, but close for entirely different reasons. "But for now? I have to focus on making sure Gilneas survives what's coming. This is my home, and I'm going to protect it."

"I'll help." She said, almost too softly for me to hear. "I'll help!" She repeated, much louder, her face twisting into a determined grimace.

I blinked, surprised by her declaration. "I thought you'd return to your family, to Gnomeregan."

She shook her head, her hair bouncing. "No. Grandfather... grandfather said that if you're a prophet, I should help." Her hand tightened where it was holding onto my sleeve. "That if you're my friend I should support you. To... to listen. To make sure you don't feel isolated. Some diviners go mad because no one believes them, setting out to fulfil their own prophecies or... refusing to live to see them come to pass."

Slowly I lowered myself so we were close to eye height. "I can't promise we won't encounter the Scourge, Frazzle," I said softly. "They won't reach Ironforge, but they will assault the Wall."

Fear flickered in her eyes for a moment before she pushed it aside. "I said I'll help! Even– even if I'm afraid, I'll help!"

She was just so earnest in her declaration that I couldn't stop myself from pulling the damp gnome into a hug again. She squeaked in surprise, starting to struggle against my embrace.

"Gwen!" She protested.

Laughing I let her go, a wide smile on my face. I... I hadn't expected this, but it wasn't at all unwelcome.

"Thank you," I said, beaming at the befuddled-looking gnome. "And sorry, I like being affectionate."

Frazzle's pouted briefly before shaking her head. "It's fine. I gave you permission earlier." She fidgeted for a moment. "So, where... where do we start?"

"First, I'd like you to send a message to your family if you can..." I laid out what went wrong in Gnomeregan in the future I knew.

If Frazzle's family already believed me to be a prophet then they would more readily take my warning about Thermaplugg and the Irradiation. The Troggs would remain a problem but if Gnomeregan was still intact and habitable, with the gnomes not... half wiped out? I didn't remember the numbers, but it had been bad. Preventing that should be easy, such a simple thing, and a grand boon for the Alliance going into the future.

-oOoOo-

The rest of the day was fairly sombre, the highlight of watching Rosa try and succeed at casting a simple magelight spell – after three hours of work from Myriam – not quite enough to lift my spirits up from where they had fallen. Even answering Emma's questions and spending time with my favourite cousin until she grew too tired to stay awake helped, nor did the plain but well-cooked familiarity of the dinner Robin provided for us.

Eventually the children were abed and, for all I wanted to join them, there were still things to discuss.

"What in the nether was all that about future sight?" Myriam demanded. "You can't– were you serious in telling me she predicted this plague, this..." She waved a hand.

"Culling," I said.

Frazzle winced at the name.

"Yes, and while you are under my roof I would ask that you not doubt my word." Celestine said firmly. "I thank you for teaching my daughter, and though I still have... reservations on the path she wishes to pursue, and would gladly pay any apprenticeship fee you set, but you are a guest. You are welcome to listen but this discussion is for myself and my former apprentice."

"And Frazzle." I tried for a smile but suspected it fell flat. "She has offered her assistance and I am not going to turn it down."

Myriam seemed like she wished to protest, but fell back in her seat.

"How much does this event change things, Gwyneth?" Celestine asked.

Not much, even though it felt like it had. "It means things are accelerating. Celestine, you need to meet with Lord Crowley." She would need to be brought in on the Northgate Rebellion. I had no belief she would refuse, but for Darius' sake I shouldn't inform her without his consent. They needed to meet.

"With the fields the way they are, that's not an easy thing to ask." Celestine huffed. "It's not so much I cannot handle them, but to leave them for weeks at a time now..."

I chewed on my lip. I understood, her foremost responsibility was to her family, but at the same time...

"The wall is closed." Frazzle said, puffing herself up as our eyes turned to her. "In the past, when Gilneas had a famine, they imported food. The wall is closed because of the plague. You can't import the food you need, and you can't even get the harvest from the Amberwood – which was fine when I passed through it. But if you're thinking the crops will fail..."

"Border traffic is down," I said, remembering more of Lord Mistmantle's and Darius' complaints. "The wall means most of the farmers in the borderlands have been selling their grain to Lordaeron or Dalaran, not here in Gilneas. Reserves were... decent, I think."

Decent, but that was before Darius started accepting so many refugees. Starting pushing harder to bring people through the wall. How long would they last now?

"Mother complained about a lack of fish, too," Myriam said, her brow furrowed in thought. "Something about the king ordering ships scuttled to prevent trade also impacting the fishing fleets."

Celestine grimaced, growing tense.

"Even if you can keep your own farm going that doesn't mean it will be enough." I whispered, the words carrying clearly enough. "One Witch can't feed a nation, one farm can't feed it."

My notebook was with me, as always, and I pulled it out. There, plain as day, was my note about the Harvest Witches saving the crops, preventing famine, and gaining recognition for it. How did they manage it? A disorganised mess of Witches going out and saving fields? Would they have even started this early, when the famine was only a threat and not a certainty?

Even if that was how it happened in what could have been, it shouldn't be what happened now.

Before we could stand with Gilneas against the scourge we had to ensure our people were fed. War was coming and there would be no relief, no safety; even if it were possible to import food from outside I would counsel against it. Argue with Darius that, without the ability to discern Plagued grain from that which was untouched, we couldn't risk importing food from our neighbouring realms.

I knew that the Plague had been focused in the Northlands, and especially the Eastweald, but that didn't mean it wouldn't crop up in Hillsbrad, in the Lordainian half of the Silverpine Forest, or even Gilneas itself.

The cult wasn't focused on us, we didn't factor into the Dreadlords' plans of world domination; Genn having neatly removed us from the playing board already... but that didn't mean they were stupid enough to miss an opportunity if it sprang up in front of them.

Saving Gilneas wasn't about defeating the Scourge, it was about surviving them. And we couldn't do that without full bellies.

"We can't just focus on ourselves, our own fields, those of the villages we live in." I said,  "Or even our lord's lands. You might be able to feed all of Keel Harbour, Celestine, if you did nothing else. If you enlisted Old Grims' and Emmaline's help to do it... and my students and I could manage all Crowley's lands this side of the wall, maybe." Crowford wasn't self-sustaining in food, not even with the nearby villages. Food used to come south, from the fields between the Northgate Woods and the Pyrewood Marshes, but that wouldn't happen anymore. "But what would happen then?"

No one else seemed to want to say anything. There hadn't been a famine in my lifetime, but they weren't rare. Not in a pseudo-medieval society. "With what Genn's done there's no importing food from outside. People will starve, and if they see we have food and they don't...?"

"The court would confiscate it," Myriam muttered. "I'd likely be pressed into conjuring food, if only because I'd be paid handsomely to do so. Grandmother spoke of it happening when she was younger, men begging her to make a single loaf of bread for their children."

"Every nation is three meals away from anarchy," I said, nodding my head. I didn't know who the quote was from, or even if it was right, but it was fitting here. "Men will do desperate things to fill their bellies, and even more desperate things to fill the bellies of their loved ones."

Celestine sighed. "And what, exactly, are you suggesting?"

I didn't entirely know, not fully at least. But I had an idea.

"We can't just look after ourselves. We, not just you and me but all of the Witches, can't ignore what's happening in the rest of the nation. If there's no other source  the nobles, the rich, the powerful, will come after us simply because we have food." There were storehouses, of course there were, but there was going to be a famine. If not this year, then the next. "Resentment that we do well when they do not, just as if we cursed their crops and stole its vitality for theirs."

"Uh," Myriam looked at me worriedly. "That's... not something you can actually do, is it?"

"Not I," Celestine shook her head. "But there are those that can. For all most stories are fables there is still some truth to them." She sighed heavily. "You are right, like as not we would be forced back into hiding once more. But few would welcome our aid here and now, even as their crops falter."

And yet, I knew the Witches would be accepted for saving the crop. "They would. I know they will."

Celestine looked at me for a moment, raising a brow, then nodded in understanding.

"But, there is a way to make things easier," I said, starting to smile despite the subject. "Lord Crowley trusts me. Come with me to him, speak with him and we can avoid having to work around the nobles. Work with them from the start, showing the benefits of what we can do somewhere it's safe to do so until, rather than being afraid we'll come to their lands, the lords are afraid we'll avoid them. Piece by piece we can see Gilneas' through this mess."

I couldn't help but grin toothily at the thought of even the most disapproving lords begging us to come and save their domain's harvests. Not all lords were like Darius and Lord Mistmantle and deserving of respect. "And, from there, we look towards earning true acceptance and recognition. Not just in scattered villages and small communities, but from the nation itself."

For once Genn's isolation desires could work in our favour. Presented with a home-grown alternative to Dalaran when it came to magic, one wholly and truly Gilnean? "His majesty may well leap at the thought of a Gilnean order of mages, no matter the form. So that he no longer needs to rely upon the outsiders of Dalaran, so that he no longer needs to pander to the Church he calls an instrument of Lordaeron."

"Do they really think like that?" Frazzle asked, perturbed.

I nodded. "Some, but not the ones I work with. I only really know about it from Lord Crowley complaining about the prevalence of isolationist and bigoted sentiment amongst the nobility. Particularly in relation to the king himself."

"You ask me to leave at a difficult time, Gwyneth," Celestine said. "I still have to look after my family."

"You're to be–" I glanced at our two guests for a moment, halting myself from using her title, "–made our leader. We both know this." I shot back. "I can't do it, I don't have the authority or respect. I've met the whole of us once, and that's just the female half! I've never even met a male Witch."

There was supposed to be a meeting every five years, during Noble Garden, where both sides met up. I didn't know much about it beyond that Heather refused to speak of what happened there, her face going pale and a look of horror on her face when I brought it up.

Celestine's mouth quirked upward. "Something we should rectify, you are of that age now."

I flushed. "No," I said, shaking my head, but in my mind I couldn't deny it. Yes, I was dealing with being a randy teenager again, but it's not like I'd done anything! With other people. "It's not necessary."

Lorna wasn't actually interested, for all she teased me and made it seem like she was, for all I wished my tall and luxuriously dark-haired friend was.

And outside of the village boys who were just as scared of me as they were fascinated with my tits, no one else was either.

A knowing smirk spread across Celestine's face and I looked away. I shouldn't even be embarrassed by this, it's not like I hadn't grown out of this once before!

"You did miss the last joint meeting while you were away," She hummed, and I could feel her looking me up and down, seeing exactly how much I'd grown. "A shame, they are meant for young Witches to get to know one another. I suspect you wouldn't enjoy some of the... aids on offer, but Peacebloom and fresh Liferoot make a delightful tea together."

I wasn't one for any drugs, not after the time... I'd forgiven her for that, but she was right. But she meant... oh.

My blush managed to find a way to get even deeper. Peacebloom was famous for making you relaxed, calm, and dimming negative emotions like shame, anger, or regret. And, just like Liferoot, it was a vitality booster; but Liferoot was special in that it was also a massive fertility booster.

And an aphrodisiac if it wasn't dried out for weeks with the juices removed. A strong aphrodisiac.

I glanced back up, getting to see Celestine raise her eyebrow as I finished putting things together.

"The meetings are an orgy?!" I shrieked.

Myriam covered her ears and winced. That had been far louder than I'd intended to be.

"You, you're not–" There was no way. They took children to the joint meetings!

Celestine put a hand to her mouth and laughed, tilting her head just a fraction. "Yes, but also no. It is encouraged but hardly required. After all, a Witch who lays with another Witch is more likely to–

"Can we not get onto this topic?" Frazzle interrupted, sounding decidedly bored. "I know humans like to discuss their sex lives all the time and make up so many innuendos and tease each other but it's all so dull. Just get on with it and do it if you want to. Or don't. No need to make such a big deal out of things, everyone does it or there wouldn't be so many of you."

"Do gnomes not...?" Myriam said, looking a little uncomfortable with the conversation herself.

Frazzle huffed and shook her quickly, her loose hair dancing around her head. She stopped and tucked it away with a frown. "No. Like, if I wanted to have sex I could? I know half a dozen boys and girls who'd be willing to help. But we don't make such a big deal out of it like you tall folk do. Sex is sex, people have sex. End of story." She rolled her eyes. "There are so many more important things to think about rather than focusing on how to put a plug in a socket all the time."

Somehow, despite being a sane voice in the world where the Witches met up every five years to have an orgy, Frazzle found a way to make my cheeks burn even hotter.

It didn't help that she was a cute little thing. Her hair was so pretty, and even if she was short it wasn't like she didn't have–

Bad Gwen. Don't let Celestine win. Don't prove Frazzle right in saying all humans were all sex-crazed lunatics. Even if it was mostly true for teenagers. Like I currently was.

I missed being a kid, it was so much easier.

"Might I ask how old you are?" Celestine asked, glancing at Frazzle as if she was an oddity.

"Thirty-six," Frazzle said with a short nod. "Although you do have to take into consideration that we are only considered adults in our twenty-fourth year, unlike you humans and your fourteenth."

"That little diversion aside," I said, my voice more shrill than I'd like as I tried to steer the conversation back onto something that wouldn't leave me looking like a tomato, "My point stands. You're the one who can actually lead us, Celestine. I can't. Maybe one day I could, but leadership is connections, favours, politics, not..." I waved a hand, stars forming around it and dancing. "Not magic and power. When my apprentices grow up I'll have clout, I want to teach other witches and I'd gain favours that way, but I'm not there yet."

"No, you're not. One day you will be, but not yet." Celestine agreed, a proud smile on her face. "I said I would listen to all you said as the Speaker of Ravens, didn't I?"

I glanced at our two guests again, but if she wanted to use the title I wasn't going to stop her. "You did."

She stood and walked over to me, placing a hand on my shoulder.  She looked at me fondly, pride still gleaming in her eyes.

The touching moment was somewhat ruined by the furious blush from earlier still burning on my cheeks, and the fact I was struggling to keep eye contact with her. It was her fault for bringing it all up in the first place!

"Some fools would try to do it all alone, to make their own path without the aid of those who made them." She said, abruptly leaning down to hug me, the angle and where she put me only making things worse. "But you were never normal." She whispered in my ear, repeating what she said at Tal'Doren before pulling back. "I said I would listen, and so I shall. And I will support you as best I can." Celestine closed her eyes, continuing with reluctant determination. "Even if it means abandoning my other responsibilities for a time."

There was a quiet moment, my heart swelling with affection. I'd heard it at Tal'Doren already, but hearing it still meant so much to have my family at my back.

"And I'll help too!" Frazzle piped up, almost ruining the moment. "I– I can't help with the harvest much, but... I can move people around. I aced my Telemancy classes! And I know how to organise, grandmother made sure of it! If there's paperwork I'm your gnome!"

I shared a look with Celestine, she looked bemused but I couldn't help but smile. Frazzle was eager.

"I'm sure you'll be of great assistance," I told her.

Myriam fidgeted. "I'll think about teaching your daughter, missus Tolbecker, but I don't... I don't think..."

"If you don't wish to get involved with our business, then you do not have to, Myriam." Celestine said firmly. "But for now, it's time for me to hear what my old apprentice has to say about the future, so I bid you both good night."

She beckoned me to follow and we left the two in the house to retreat to her grove, and there I told her all that I had told Darius. What I knew of the Worgen, what I was preparing and seeking to cure them, the origin of the curse with the Wild God Goldrinn and Elune and my thought on redirecting one or both of those aspects to mitigate or change it.

Occasionally her eyes would almost spark with recognition of something under the moonlight, but I was never sure as to what. She asked few questions and merely let me speak.

It was a long night and I was exhausted by the time I'd finished, but I knew she believed me about everything. I could feel it in the air of her grove as much as I could see it on her face.