Amber - Dawn (Patreon)

As Alan walked the corridors of the Light’s Dawn Cathedral, a majestic monument to Gilneas’ devotion to the Light, all those within bowed their heads to him in greeting as was proper. After all, this was his domain. To his bishops that had travelled so far for the summer meeting, and indeed some of the promising up-and-coming brother and sister Priests, Alan inclined his own head to return the greeting.

If he had more time he would offer formalities to all who served the Light, for in service to the Light their worth. It mattered little to Alan if they had the devotion and will to wield the Light itself, for they dedicated themselves all the same.

Some were, perhaps, more worthy of praise than others. But all were still worthy.

Sad as it was, the demands of an Archbishop's time rarely ceased and Alan could not do as he wished. Unlike some, he wished to be involved directly in the management of his Cathedral. He knew Archbishop Alonsus Faol, great man though he was, spent little time in the Old Monastery and far more of it in the capital city.

What man could claim to know the right course when he failed to understand the difficulties of those who served him most directly? Still, his fellow Archbishop had hardly faltered in serving their faith by choosing another path. His Silver Hand were a grand creation that still showed its worth today.

Overly focused on Lordaeron as they might be, they were still a shining beacon of the Faith.

"Sister Amelin," Alan said as he reached his destination, "have you any success in securing replacements for our stores?"

The Lay Sister, one without the ability to wield the light, startled and jumped in her seat as she glanced up at him. She had been huddled over her desk, poring over paperwork pertaining to the supplies of the cathedral. A dutiful soul Alan knew she was proud to be so integral to the running of his grand cathedral.

"Archbishop Tulvan," She stood and bowed. "I am afraid I have not been able to. There are none in Gilneas outside of Pyrewood which produce the sanctified candles necessary. However, there have been some new enterprises opening in the city..."

Alan listened intently as she provided her findings. He had agreed with his father's reasoning for supporting the construction of the Greymane Wall years ago, and still did today; the prevention of the regular raids by trolls from the dingy and rotten Pyrewood Marshes upon his family's lands would be a grand boon. Like Thoradin's Wall of old, which protected fledgling Arathor from the vicious Amani trolls.

But, at the time, he hadn't considered some of the difficulties that would occur. None insurmountable to be sure but difficulties nonetheless.

At least Sister Amelin had found a solution to this particular one in her swift and efficient fashion, long before it would become a true problem. Aided by his foresight in ensuring their stocks were full before the wall had been ordered closed; they could last as many as five years without needing more of the materials imported from beyond the Gilnean heartland.

"Ask this man if he would be willing to teach an Acolyte his craft," He said, giving the sister his order. "One of those able with their hands and possessing a steady mind. One who has been studying under Priestess Hawkins."

It may take several years before the acolyte learned to create candles of the appropriate quality, and perhaps longer to adjust their lessons under the Enchanter Priestess towards producing truly sanctified candles, but it would allow the issue to be resolved.

And so long as they remained an Acolyte they could be made to teach others within the Cathedral, enshrining a craft of value to all the Bishops of Gilneas.

"As you say, Archbishop." Sister Amelin said, bowing her head.

"Good day, sister," Alan said, taking his leave from her office.

There were a dozen more small tasks to attend to; assigning the punishment duty of cleaning the Cathedral District's canals to those unfortunate enough to have been caught befouling the waters, assigning the budget for this month's charity kitchens, speaking with one of the city guard who had found a runaway child sheltering in the lee of the Cathedral.

But, as the day wore on and the dawn's rays faded into the embers of evening it was time for a meeting of the Bishops’ Council.

Some part of him thought that the scheduling of the meeting at dusk, as it had been down for close to three hundred years, was a power play by the other bishops. To remind the Bishop of Dawn that though they were the first amongst peers they were still just that, a peer. Such had been true in the past but it was hardly so any longer; the Dawn Abbey had given way to the Cathedral of Dawn, the populace of Gilneas City had swelled from a mere thirty thousand to nearly two hundred thousand, and the influence of the Bishop of Dawn had grown to become the Archbishop of Dawn.

Even now things were changing further in his favour, with the other Archbishops ever harder to reach there was little question that his position would gain even further responsibilities.

He stepped through the doors into the council hall, all eight of Gilneas' Bishops already present and seated. None stood to greet him, but nor did they question his tardiness.

"Welcome, friends, I hope your journeys were pleasant?" He said smoothly, noting that Bishop Terner of Duskhaven looked more miffed than usual. He had heard rumour of some scandal on the plains of late, perhaps it was due to that?

There was a slow murmur of a lack of troubles, save from Bishop Warrens of Severnvale who made mention of bandits; a concern but not a great one.

"Then, let us begin. What matters need our attention on this day?" Alan said, looking around the table. Bishop Miller of Embers looked somewhat bored, though little ever happened in the hills so that was unsurprising. Warrens clearly had something she wished to say, and had a good amount of notes... best leave her for later. The woman could pontificate for an age if given the chance. "Bishop Walden, what have you to say?" He looked to his fellow nobleman, a safe choice for simple affairs that would take little attention.

Walden cleared his throat before he spoke. "Little of great concern, but there have been a number..."

Alan tuned out the minutiae of the difficulties Walden had had with his flock and subordinates lately, the man had no true head for administration. He had a competent aid or three but tended to bungle matters; a shame his fellow blue-blood was so... ineffective at proving proper breeding's value. And yet, the man's strength in the Light could not be denied.

It was still all Alan could do to prevent himself from losing focus entirely as Walden spoke of his flocks' complaints about fishing and the king's restrictions on sailing ships. Tempest's Reach sat more than a hundred feet up atop a cliff, what madman would scale all the way to the bottom just to go out into stormy seas to fish?!

"Thank you, Bishop Walden. I understand the difficulties you're having and..." Alan quickly thought through their budget, there was some wiggle room. "... redirect some of the charity funds in your direction for food relief. Perhaps some fish from Emberstone will ease your flock's woes?" He offered, and Walden quickly agreed. "Now, what matters do you bring forward Bishop Terner?"

"Famine." The Bishop grunted, then began going on at length about the fields of the Duskmist Plains drying up and even the infamous mist itself being clear for the last few months.

A concerning thought indeed, but more a matter for the King than the church. Perhaps another increase in the charity budget for the year... the poor were always the first to suffer such calamities and would need the aid.

Each Bishop had a turn to speak, with more complaints and issues than was the norm for such meetings. In recent years the kingdom had been... not doing well, but the wall was always going to change things. Once life had settled again all would be well.

It was an oddity for a Paladin to be wandering the Emberstone Hills, but hardly an unwelcome one. Alan would have to send him an invitation to the Cathedral for this Magroth.

"And you, Bishop Warrens?" Alan asked, feeling tired but unable to deny her the chance to speak.

"Thank you, Archbishop." She said, her eyes filled with Light that spoke clearly of how she knew she had been left for last intentionally. "I am afraid this is something of a greater concern than most, save perhaps yours Bishop Terner." She nodded to the man who did little but grunt back. "Albeit my concern may be a solution to our woes as well."

Alan waved a hand, begging her to get on with it.

She tapped her papers on the stone table they sat around, smoothing them out, then looked at each of them in turn theatrically. "How familiar are each of you with Witches?"

Witches? Alan furrowed his brow, he had heard little of such things since he was a young boy. Rumours at best, a healer of plants in the hinterlands of the kingdom perhaps? If they existed at all it was in no manner to pose a threat to the Kingdom or Church. Whatever culture they may have had in the past had almost certainly been driven into the arms of Dalaran, or wiped out entirely, in the... bloody years of the Inquisition.

There were few who could call those days good. Even the most adherent to the truth that the Light was the only Holy magic, the only magic any faithful man or woman could need, looked ill upon the days Gilneas had been humbled in war and forced to grant Lordaeron the right to send men into their nation and place any they chose under arrest if they could draw up the most spurious evidence of 'foul magics'. Even Alan himself, who gained greatly from the influence won by the Holy Light in Gilneas in those years, would rather that such an atrocity had never occurred.

Better the Church of Dawn was weaker, slower to grow through Kindness, Mercy, and Compassion than convert by blood and blade.

"I've experience with one," Miller said, a curious lilt to her voice. "I believe I know whom you are speaking of as well."

"The foul hags are back again?" Terner spat, looking as if he wished to physically spit upon the floor. "Has the nobility not acted yet? Who knows what they might be doing."

"I may have never heard a good thing about a Witch." Bishop Frey of Valestone said, a man so short and stocky one might mistake him for a beardless dwarf. "But that language is unsuited for these halls, Bishop Terner."

Terner grunted again, impolite as ever. Why the king liked the man Alan couldn't understand.

"I believe we are all familiar with the stories of Witches," Alan said, holding a hand up to put a stop to further squabbling. "Perhaps you could continue with your point, Bishop Warrens?"

She nodded, a faint frown on her face. She disliked being denied her play, he knew. "Very well," She said, gesturing to Dawn of Law, the carved wall that held every Edict the Church of Dawn had laid upon the faithful of Gilneas. "In the recent past it has been the position of this council to simply... ignore the commands that were set in stone five centuries past on the subject of magic users, initially to avoid conflict with the Mages of Dalaran like the King's own Archmage.

"However, there is explicit mention in our commandments that mention Witches. For many a year there has been scant more than rumour, though perhaps on occasion there have been sightings or even good word of a healer or farmer who works with magic that is neither Arcane nor Light. Some may consider this just fancy, the idea that any could heal without the Light," She drew out a sheet of paper from her notes. "Yet I have sworn testimonies from a dozen faithful who say otherwise."

The testimonies were quickly passed around the table, a short transcription of peasants speaking of a young girl who offered healing at no charge. Or, in some cases, on a lord's coin. Crowley, what were you meddling with?

"This is indeed a matter that requires our attention," Alan said, beginning to regret leaving Warren's concern till last. This would be a long night. "And merits discussion."

"What discussion is there? You've evidence right here," Terner slapped the paper down on the table. "We simply send some acolytes along with the temple knights and have done with her. Interrogate her to find her fellows and burn them out root and stem–"

"You cannot be serious!" Miller shouted, staring aghast at her peer. "I know one of these girls, she is scarcely twenty! You advocate the butchery of–"

"Of dark beasts that corrupt children!" Terner snapped, standing from his chair. "Dark magics, wielded by children or the elderly, are not to be allowed!"

"If this is true," Frey said, trying to calm them down with placating gestures, "Then it must be dealt with decisively. Demons cannot be allowed to roam freely."

"Hear hear!" Walden cried, "We cannot let the orcish demons reach our lands."

Bishop Rowan of Zul'dare snorted. "Orcish demons, Walden?” He said, rolling his eyes, “No, if it is a Witch they would summon our own demons; such as Baku, the snake that eats people in their sleep." Terner looked at Rowan, seemingly appreciative of the support, but then Rowan continued. "Not that such myths are even true. No, hedge mages are not our concern."

Terner snarled. "You would let this rot spread?!"

Things quickly devolved into an argument, one Alan needed to cut off quickly as the Light began to flare in his Bishops' eyes. He stood, drawing himself up to his full height and drew upon the power invested into his vestments; he was in truth no stronger than Walden in the Light, but the artefacts of his position granted him enough boons to stand above them.

"Quiet." His voice rang out, echoing off the walls. All other words in the council chamber were quashed, drowned out and made to be quiet. Even as they turned to him and tried to speak further they could not raise their voices above a whisper. Terner was actively working against it, and would soon undo the quelling, but it would suffice. "We are not a mad rabble chasing after a rumour," Alan said, his words still carrying the weight of the Light. "We do not act without understanding why we are acting. As Bishop Warren has said, we ignore some commands of old to avoid antagonising Dalaran. A policy held by the Church of the Holy Light as a whole, not just here in the Church of Dawn. And there is reason behind that; in doing so the hedge mages and those who might be drawn to the darker magics are funnelled to one place, where they may be carefully watched and policed. By their own as much as by ourselves."

Not that the Church of Dawn had any say in the workings of Dalaran. Even the Silver Hand and Alonsus Faol trod lightly in the City of Magic, and though they had earned some favour from its secretive rulers in the past such grace did not extend to Alan or the Church or Dawn.

Bishop Warren nodded, tapping her notes against the table again.

Alan turned to Terner. "You will hold your peace until Bishop Warren has provided whatever evidence she might have. This is not the place for attacking your fellows, all of you are equals and are to treat one another as such."

"Well said, Archbishop," Rowan said in scarcely a whisper, still quietened by Alan's magic.

Nodding in acknowledgement of the praise Alan looked to Warren. "Continue, please." He said, drawing the quieting blanket of magic away from her.

"Beyond the testimonies of the faithful, I have two more reports of note." She said, as if there had never been any interruption at all; save for a faint smile upon her lips. "The first comes from a Lay Sister of our own order, Sister Roper of Crowford." The seat of the Crowleys, if Alan remembered correctly. "She states that she has worked alongside a young girl, by the name of Gwyneth Arevin, for several years now and has gained greatly from her providing healing after Bishop Kendall passed away and no replacement was granted to their chapel."

He remembered Bishop Kendall, a kindly old man who had struggled to attend meetings. Alan was... concerned that he had not even been aware the man had died. "An oversight," Alan allowed. "One we shall rectify soon enough." A single Lay Sister should not be left to maintain a chapel by themselves. It would also give them new eyes upon this Gwyneth, to determine–

"That will not be necessary," Warren said with a shake of her head. "Here is Sister Roper's report, Archbishop."

Frowning at the interruption Alan took the report, quickly reading through it as Warren passed copies to the other members of the Bishops' council.

Using magical lights, small stars, to save on the costs of candles? That the costs of candles had been a concern for an established chapel spoke badly of her administration, but with only a Lay Priest... donations were likely slim.

It was a good measure, and Alan wondered if teaching the Acolytes to do such things was possible. It would add an additional air of Holiness to the cathedral if on special occasions it was illuminated solely by the Light and not merely light. Perhaps it could be part of the initiates' practice in learning to channel the light... a thought for the future.

Aiding in recovery after a flood, healing for free – albeit on a stipend from a lord, but even a Witch needs to eat – debating theology and making some interesting points on the Light. Ones that Alan was aware of himself but knew were not common knowledge, and others that... made sense. The Light was indeed Faith, and so long as you trusted in the Light the Light would trust in you. It was why the simple-minded like Walden could grow so strong; he believed and so he was empowered.

He could not claim to be unconcerned by the thought of a Witch teaching students, but better that it was openly done where others could ensure no Demons were being summoned or children sacrificed than in secret or dead of night.

"Curious, very curious," Alan said, musing at his chin. It was good the people of Crowford had not gone without a healer for the last few years. The nearest Bishopric, other than Crowford itself which stood empty, was Severnvale... and that only lay in Crowley's lands now due to the acquisitions he had made when Godfrey had falsely accused an Inventor of...

What had the name of the Inventor again?

"What did you say this Witch's name was?" Sister Roper's report was quite taciturn with names, likely wishing to protect the girl from retribution should it be decided necessary.

"Gwyneth Arevin."

It was familiar... "I know of an Inventor Arevin, do you know if they are perhaps related?" He asked.

Bishop Warren's lips quirked into an amused smile. "They are indeed,"

Alan was tired enough that he openly sighed at her games.

"She's teaching." Terner hissed, his hands tight enough around the report that the paper could tear any moment. "How can any of you say we should not be acting when she is spreading her poison to children?"

"Because there is no poison at all." Miller said, rolling her eyes. "You see shadows where there are none, Bishop Terner."

Terner stood, and Alan followed suit. Staring the man down.

"I believe I told you to hold your peace, Terner." Alan reminded him. "Bishop Warren clearly has more to say." He glanced at the woman. She very clearly had a look on her face that said she had already won the game she was playing. What piece did she have left to play?

Quietly, without a word, she handed out the next report to them. One that was embossed with a Silver Hand.

"Magroth," Miller muttered, "So this was why he showed up, hmm?"

This was the paladin who had been wandering the Ember Hills, then? Curious.

Alan turned to the report, taking in every detail. It was... bland, bland and perhaps poorly written. The Paladin may be a paragon of martial skill and virtue both, but it was clear those virtues did not extend to the written word. And yet, despite the low quality of the report, Alan was enthralled... and incensed.

He was aware of the attack upon Inventor Arevin, now clearly Inventor Gwyneth Arevin who was also the Witch, by Lord Godfrey and the subsequent loss of face for the King's favourite Lord. Alan himself had been present in court the day the King reprimanded the man publicly, stripping from him control of the sole northern gate of the Greymane Wall and granting it to another. Along with lands that made contiguous a connection from their land to the gate.

The grant had included the Bishopric of Severnvale. No wonder it was Bishop Warren who had brought this matter to them.

But, what was made clear in this... travesty of a report, was that Godfrey had gotten off lightly. He had taken soldiers from the wall, soldiers of the royal army who were guarding the king's project, drawn in two foreigners – even if one had been of the Silver Hand, it was not done – and marched into Crowley's lands, attacked one under the protection of the crown, and then threatened the Lord in his own home.

There was no doubt Alan would be giving this to his mother. Lady Tulvan would not be glad to learn that the King had shown such favouritism to one of his lords over another. It did not matter that the Crowleys were upstarts, he could have been a mere baron and it would not have mattered. He was not subject to Godfrey's authority and the King could not allow such behaviour to go unpunished.

And, though he had not, he had hidden the extent of the crime and scarcely punished him at all. The only true losses were the newly built gate and Severnvale; a few dozen miles of empty forests merely meant more land for Crowley to police.

"As you can see this Witch has already been vetted thoroughly, and having spoken to Sir Magroth personally I have been told he has been invited to take up residence in the Crowford Chapel." Bishop Warren was smirking, and as Alan looked across the table he could see why. Terner looked utterly baffled by what he was reading – the man practically worshipped Lord Uther, and to question the report of a Paladin would go against every fibre of his being. "He will spend much of his time wandering, as is his wont, but Crowford has little need of a new Bishop as they have Gilneas' sole Paladin now."

"This... this can't..." Terner stumbled over his words. "Is this Magroth even a Paladin?" He said, trying to find a way around his warring beliefs.

"Sir Magroth the Defender." Bishop Miller said, leaning back in her seat. "As I have already said, he has been wandering the Ember Hills of late and righting wrongs. It is good to know exactly what he meant when he said he already had a place of residence for his time in Gilneas."

"We have seen your evidence, Bishop Warren," Alan said, setting the report down on the table and letting his finger trace lightly upon the Silver Hand that stood so prominently on it. "But this issue seems to have been resolved without our intervention. I will not have us gainsay a Paladin of the Silver Hand. What reason did you have for bringing it before us?"

"I believe it is time to erase a dark part of our legacy. We have long ignored commands written in stone, now I say we strike them from the stone. The Witch is not inherently evil, let them be judged by their actions and not their Faith." She spread her arms wide, a wide smile on her face as her Virtue of Compassion shone forth. "Let us lead by example and open welcoming arms so those long lost to us can embrace the Light."

Alan groaned internally, a debate on such a thing could last all night... "Very well, I see the merit in such. Let each say their piece with the evidence presented before we take this to a vote." He said, fighting to keep his desire for sleep from his voice. "Bishop Miller, you mentioned having also encountered a Witch, I ask you to speak first."

"Indeed, a young woman named Heather, she..." It was hardly as grand as what was known of Gwyneth Arevin, but Miller spoke well of the Witch.

Terner never turned entirely from his condemnation, but he quickly became the only voice calling for their detainment or destruction. Even Bishop Frey stated that perhaps it was time to let go of their bloody history for good.

Much as he had feared the debate lasted so long that Dawn came, streaming through the stained windows of the council chamber. The last to speak was Walden, and his words were a mere formality. He would vote as the majority did, as he always had, and he would convince no one with his muddled thoughts.

"All in favour of striking the laws of the Inquisition from the stone?" Alan said, holding his own hand at bay. He agreed with the act, but his power was best used to break ties – or when he needed to force an issue. Here, he did not need to vote at all as six of eight hands raised in support of removing the anti-Witchcraft, and even anti-Mage, laws from the Wall of Dawn. "Those against?"

One, Terner. Frey had chosen to abstain.

"Then, six to one, I declare that under the auspices of the Church of Dawn, that Witchcraft is no longer an offence against the Light." He declared. "Now... I am sure there is much to be done to deal with this declaration, but that can wait until we have all had some rest." He looked blearily at the windows, shining resplendently with the dawn's glory. "I suggest we meet again three eves hence, enough time to think on matters."

All agreed, save Terner who stormed away, and it was done. Witches alongside the likes of Mages would be tolerated, but not welcomed, wielders of Magic in the eyes of the Church of Dawn.