Amber - V,L (Patreon)

As promised, here is the bonus for me failing to post the Kirin Tor segment like I had intended to. As I mentioned in my comment it won't be Patreon exclusive but it'll take the place of a posted chapter – going after Chapter V this Saturday – on the forums, bringing up the number of chapters ahead you are by one.

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"And what exactly do you think you were doing? I was waiting, waiting, for you to attend your luncheon with Lord Davis and his son, and where were you?" Isobel snapped, glaring down at Vivi who stood so very, very still and stared just behind her mother's head. "Out playing with swords again. And not even proper fencing or bladework! No, instead you waste your time on those foolish dances you learned from that friend of yours."

Vivi wished she could ignore her. Wished she didn't have to listen to her mother rant at her, but no matter how hard she tried Isobel's voice rang inside her head. So what if she didn't meet with Lord Davis? His son was twenty eight! Vivi was sixteen! The man was already balding!

But he was rich, he was interested – the pervert – and in the brief moment she'd met him said that the portrait had captured her good side.

She hadn't consented to having her portrait sent out, to being auctioned off like a piece of meat to whatever nobles her mother wanted to cosy up to. She didn't want any of it!

It was all she could do not to scream. If she did her father would get involved, and Isobel was so very good at spinning everything as Vivi's fault for not being a proper lady. Why did Gwen have to go to the capital? Why did Lorna have to be busy flying across Gilneas? Why did she have to stay at home? Anywhere was better than here. Anywhere would be better, even frozen Northrend or the shattered Black Morass if her friends were there with her.

"If you chose to squire under Dame Hilda perhaps it might be acceptable, but you did not. As ever simply doing whatever you fancy without a thought to the consequences." Isobel strode around her, her eyes pulled tight as she glowered down her nose at Vivi. "And those clothes... such a waste of good material. Such a waste of effort. You will never be a knight, nor a squire, nor… whatever it is you dreamt up while avoiding your lessons. It is high time you accepted that."

Vivi grit her teeth and focused on her breathing. "Yes, mother." She said, calmly and politely; so utterly separate from how she felt.

Dame Hilda had offered Vivi the chance to be her squire after she found her training with the blade, trying to master the concepts Gwen had told her about and the feeling of magic she had been given. Being a knight... wasn't her dream, the armour too heavy, too restraining, but it had still been an opportunity she wanted to take. A way out of being some noble man's plaything. And so she'd come home, talked to Papa about it, even gotten his permission...

Only to be locked in the castle for a month, trapped and forced to attend lessons on thumb pricking embroidery, useless flower arrangement, stupid poetry, and almost tolerable dancing as part of some stupid punishment Vivi couldn't even remember the reason for.

When Vivi was finally free, and rushed back to accept Dame Hilda's offer, to tell her Papa had given her his blessing and she could be a squire... the knight had rescinded her offer. Isobel had refused for her, turned down Dame Hilda and insulted her badly enough the knight was barely willing to accept Vivi into Lorna’s sword lessons. She had never come to Northglade again either.

She couldn't tell Lorna, she couldn't tell Lord Crowley. She couldn't. Even if telling them hurt Isobel the petty revenge wouldn't be worth the hurt it caused Papa, or the possibility of Howard losing his position as Lord Crowley's aid.

In the end all she could do was let it be, to forget she had ever been given the chance. And even as her mother lied, twisting facts and reality to make it Vivi's fault Dame Hilda shunned them, she couldn't argue. It never worked, all it would do is entrap her further, give her mother more ammunition to use against her, make her life more miserable. No, she had to listen and obey for now. One day she would be free, one day she would be free.

"Go to your room and dress properly. Your brother is home and we will eat together as a family for dinner." Isobel whirled around, a finger stuck into Vivi's face. It was so very tempting to bite it off, but it wasn't worth it. She had to keep her calm. "Do not waste his time with your flights of fancy, daughter." Isobel snapped, "I see little enough of my son as it is."

"Yes, mother." Vivi said, still staring past her mother.

Isobel frowned, a flicker of frustration in her eyes. It brought a minute amount of joy to Vivi's heart that she was annoying Isobel more by passively ignoring her than she had by fighting back.

"You are dismissed." Isobel said, flapping her hand.

Dressed as she was, Vivi bowed. The exact amount a noble scion would do to another of equal standing rather than to family, and made her way back to her rooms. Once there she took in a deep breath, then another, and a third; her lungs full to bursting and beyond.

Walking up to her window she slammed them open and screamed, a wordless cry of frustration that no one would believe came from a young woman. One would hardly believe it was human. Birds startled and took to the skies, squawking and cawing at the perceived threat; on the walls of the keep, shadowed and towered over by the immense Greymane Wall that had swallowed up half of her family home, guards ran about trying to find the source of the disturbance.

Vivi panted, shaking as tears welled up in her eyes. "I hate it here."

Things had gotten a little better after she learned not to fight back. That calm acceptance, that the zen Gwen said Monks had, helped stop Isobel forcing more onto her. Vivi wasn’t sure if it was in the belief she was listening and obeying, that she was being demure and submissive like a noble girl was supposed to be,

The wind blew through her window into her room, coiling around its walls before leaving again.

"Still don't understand you." Vivi said, the faintest of smiles quirking at her lips. She wasn't Gwen, she didn't get magic. Not enough to matter. She... she felt something, in the beat of her heart and the pumping of her blood. The feeling she was alive. And she could hear the wind sometimes, tell when it was talking to Gwen and whispering secrets to her. "But thanks, I guess."

Wiping the tears from her eyes Vivi stripped off her clothes, the clothes Gwen made for her. They were so foreign and strange, but... comfortable. Trousers were so much better to wear for the way she liked to move, she didn't understand how Gwen could find them constraining.

Not that she wanted to see Gwen in trousers, Gwen was pretty in her dresses. And had funny ideas of what constituted the right lengths for a skirt...

Vivi couldn't even imagine wearing something that didn't cover her knees, but really, really liked imagining Gwen wearing what she'd had shown off as her 'practical travelling outfit'.

Slapping her cheeks to get rid of her blush, and the image of Gwen's silky smooth legs out of her mind, Vivi set about changing. She had too many dresses, too many kinds, but only one she really liked. The one someone she liked had first called her pretty in.

-oOoOo-

"How was your trip to Crowford, daughter? I hope Lorna and Darius are well." Papa asked over dinner.

"Good," Vivi smiled, putting on a happy front for her father. At least she didn't have to lie to him about this. "We went riding and had a picnic out above the Ember; Gwyneth kept everything in one of her magical bags for us. It's amazing what she can do with cloth."

Vivi didn't look at her mother, didn't look at the frown she would be wearing.

Papa chuckled, his eyes closing as he thought of something from the past. "Oh, don't I know it. I've met a few mages who had such things, always a sight to see a man pull a full sized tent out of a pouch scarcely a few inches across. Almost more outlandish than summoning blizzards in the height of summer."

"Ah, but wouldn't we all welcome some of those these last few weeks," Howard said longingly, "A breath of fresh, cold air to banish the summer heat..."

Lady Isolde Merrowfall nudged him lightly, rolling her eyes at his dramatics. Howard's betrothed was... not as terrible as Vivi had feared she would be, the woman had a spine at least. She stood up to Isobel when Vivi's mother tried to argue she couldn't practise her archery and teach Vivi how to shoot a bow. She had been hunting with her family since she could draw a bowstring and wouldn't stop just because her future mother-in-law wished it to happen.

It wasn't like Isolde wanted to fight like Vivi did, but at least she wasn't a wilting flower like Isobel wanted both of them to be.

"I would rather have one of those bags." Isolde said, "Can you imagine how convenient it would be? We could travel on horseback and not need a coach to carry our things. Or go hunting in the lap of luxury, without need of attendants or baggage carriers..." She leaned into Howard's side, whispering something into his ear that had Vivi's brother's face flush with colour.

Isobel disapproved of Isolde, mightily, and for all she was taking her brother away from her... Vivi knew it could've been worse.

"If I'd had one of them back during the war I'd be a richer man," Papa said, smiling amusedly at Isolde's teasing of Howard. "Just think, that time... ah, I should start at the beginning."

It was a story Vivi had heard before, time and time again, but she loved all of Papa's war stories. The camaraderie and far off vistas, the battle up the mountains of Khaz Modan and seeing the great Stonewrought Dam; something that made the towering Greymane Wall seem small. The adventure of it all.

Vivi knew that war was terrible, that it was gruesome and painful, that people died. That Papa's first love hadn't lived through the battle at Blackrock Mountain. Papa had never hidden that from her, no matter how much Isobel disapproved of how he told his stories he had never downplayed what happened in the war.

Even now he mentioned the horrors of the Dragonmaw occupied dwarven fort, the former inhabitants bones used as wind-chimes and the stolen goods ransacked and looted. Homes torn apart and families butchered.

But he, and Darius and all the other Gilnean soldiers, had avenged them. Cut down the monstrous orcs that had stolen the dwarves' homes, stolen their lives.

And then they made off with all the plunder they could carry before the red dragons came, returning the effects of so many fallen dwarves to their teary eyed kinsfolk. It was part of a war, but it was what Vivi wanted to do with her life. To go out, to find things that were wrong, and put them right.

To go on an adventure and see the world, drag Gwen and Lorna to see Ironforge and the Stonewrought Dam like her father had, to find those with troubles and help them for no more reward than the thanks and joy they felt from helping another. To see the forests of Quel'Thalas and meet with the elusive elves and their rangers.

Not... not be stuck at home, in Gilneas, popping out babies for some ugly toff that her mother forced upon her.

Vivi stabbed at her food angrily before remembering herself, taking a calming breath and relaxing. Peace and tranquillity, calmness and acceptance, she could survive this. Things would change. They had to. Just the thought of those men touching her made Vivi's skin crawl. She never understood what Lorna meant about boys being cute, they just weren't. Lorna was beautiful, Gwen was cute, boys and men were dirty and gross.

The worst part was the way they looked at her, like she was a piece of meat on display that they were sizing up for purchase. Even if she wasn’t as endowed as Lorna they still looked and the less mindful ones stared.

"Gwen said she would make me one," Vivi said as Papa finished his story, "She's busy with work for Lord Crowley but she promised she'd make me one. And Lorna."

Once again she contemplated running away, escaping Isobel that way, but she couldn't. She couldn't do that to Papa or to Howard. He was a good father, he was a good Lord, he loved her and cared for her... but he loved Isobel as well. He didn't even know they fought.

And she didn't want him to know. Didn't want him to hurt like his brother had made him hurt all those years ago, running away and abandoning his duties to play school teacher and leaving Papa to rule Northglade even though he was the second son and had never expected, or wanted, to rule.

"Oh, that's wonderful!" Isolde said, clasping her hands together. "You know, my sister has been very interested in magic…”

Dinner wasn't so bad so long as Isobel wasn't the one talking to her, but Vivi still wished she didn't have to be here.

-oOoOo-

Vivi hopped off her horse and tied him to a tree beside the pond. Isobel would probably scream at her again when she got back, tell her a proper noble lady didn't stay up late into the night wandering the woods, didn't risk her neck riding a horse through a forest in the dark.

But Vivi didn't care. She needed this.

In the past she would've stayed in town, spent time with her friends like Tod, Reese, Merry, Kit, Catty, or Gerald. But most of them were gone now, Reese, Merry, and Kit had all left with their families when Northglade was being rebuilt and never came back. Catty was married now, too busy being pregnant and managing her husband's store to spend time with her. Gerald was working at a coaching inn along the main road now, following a girl he liked.

And Tod... Last year Tod had told her to stop seeing him. To stop leading him on, to stop making him think she liked him and wanted to be with him when she was a noble girl and it could never happen.

She didn't get it, all she'd ever done was be his friend. She'd been his friend since they were kids! They'd forged her sword together! He taught her how to swing a hammer and shape metal, helped her badger his old man into letting her learn properly when she messed things up, she never wanted to kiss him or anything so why did he think that way?!

She wasn’t Lorna! She didn’t tease anyone like that!

Everything had gotten worse as she started growing up. Sometimes she wished she’d been born a boy, then she would have the stupid breasts they all looked at, could learn to fight and wouldn’t be chided for it. Would be able…

Vivi took a breath and hefted her sword, beginning to swing as she forced the thoughts of things that couldn’t be changed away. With each swing she took a breath, in as she drew her blade back up, out as she swung down, and they steadily grew swifter.

Northglade wasn't home anymore. She wasn't really sure when it had happened, when it had changed... but it had. It could've been the wall, the rebuilding, her mother growing more desperate to improve their station and connect to another prominent lord with Lord Crowley being crippled by the Wall, but over the last few years it had changed.

Even if she lived there, even if her family were there, Northglade hadn’t been her home for a year or more. Gwen and Lorna were. Her best friends, people who let her be herself, who were always happy to let her stay, and who gave her encouragement for whatever she wanted to do instead of constant derision.

She spun, raising her blade up and over her head as took one, two, three steps, and then brought it down on her other side.

Gwen said she looked like she was dancing with her sword,and she was trying. Following the beat of her heart and the brush of wind against her skin she tried to flow, following the path that felt right... but it wasn't perfect.

Drawing her sword in front of her face she breathed across it, spinning again and lashing out at the last moment. A slicing blade of wind cut out from her sword, cutting deep into the earth ahead of her.

Once, when Gwen was around, she had struck a tree during her practise. The hour-long lecture on why she had hurt the tree, the questions of what that tree had done to her to deserve being mutilated, on what she was going to do if she cut down a forest throwing wind blades about, had taught her not to do that. She didn't want to disappoint Gwen, and the trees had never done anything wrong.

Her breathing still strong, Vivi started again, going faster. The wind was at her back and encouraged her, pushing her onward, if she could just make this work better she'd have something real to show a knight or a warrior or someone.

Something to win a place as someone’s student or squire. An apprenticeship in the ways of the sword.

Just learning from her father's men at arms wasn't good enough anymore. She needed someone who knew more, who truly understood a blade to teach her and help her find a way to make whatever style she was using work.

Even if she could beat the men nine times out of ten they were just part time soldiers. The one time she baited a Royal Guard into fighting her she lost, and lost badly. The only reason it had been a fight at all had been the enchantments Gwen had woven into her clothes, the speed the wind gave her when she followed it, and the fact they had underestimated her. But that hadn’t lasted longer than a minute.

In terms of skill... Vivi knew she wasn't anything special.

Her feet splashed into the pond, but she ignored her now wet shoes and socks and kept going, focusing on her movements and relishing the feeling of her legs gliding through the still water of the pond.

It barely impeded her at all. Faster and faster, pushing herself until she was out of breath, she lashed out time and again. Each windslash swifter than the last, more sure and confident.

Panting Vivi fell at the edge of the pond, ripping off her sodden shoes and tossing them aside.

No matter how hard she tried she felt like she was falling behind. Gwen was an amazing witch, so strong and capable, teaching students and healing hundreds while also being able to throw spells that could win a battle in a single strike. She had gone on an adventure with a Wildhammer Thane, had saved lives and rescued people. Lorna could fly on Donovan across the length and breadth of Gilneas in a few short days, knew her marksmanship with rifles inside out and could shoot an apple of a man's head at a hundred paces ten times out of ten. She was better than Vivi with a sword because of Dame Hilda's training too, she even went with her father to deal with a group of bandits plaguing their lands recently.

What did Vivi have? A half baked sword style that she was making up as she went? A pathetic way of making a blade of air? She was nimble and quick but that... anyone could be nimble and quick, that wasn't skill.

Pushing herself to her feet Vivi knew she needed to try harder. She waded out into the pond, all the way to the deepest parts where the water came up to her thighs, and felt the subtle currents flowing through it. Slowly, ever so slowly, she started to dance, to bring her blade about her as if to guard herself from an attacker as the water tugged and pulled, pushed and pressed, urging her to follow.

The trees rustled loudly and her hair drifted in a windless breeze.

If Vivi wasn't special, wasn't gifted, then all she could do was try harder. Do more. Try… try and understand all that those few people, those few things, that were willing to teach her at all were putting forward for her to learn.

Moment by moment Vivi lost herself in her dance, her worries and fears melting away as her whole world became nothing but her, her blade, and the murmurs of wind and water.

-oOoOo-

The onrushing wind ripped Lorna's hair free from its bindings and whipped it into a frenzying swirl as she sat leaned closer to Donovan's back, the sheer force of their flight nearly pulling her from her saddle as they picked up speed. His wings strained, beating harder and harder, as he pushed himself to the very limit of his endurance. Not out of urgency, not out of necessity, but simply because he could.

And for all her normal poise Lorna wore a rapturous grin, the exhilaration Donovan felt echoed in her as she exulted in the freedom that came with flying in the sky. Far, far beneath them the ground passed by in a blur as the distance to their final destination before home shrank further and further.

Silverlaine Keep, one of the great fortifications that had safeguarded Gilneas for a millennia, and a familiar sight these last few months.

Lorna let out a loud peel of laughter as Donovan slowed and began to circle, the sound mixing with his satisfied cries. Their first flight from Crowford to Pyrewood had taken three days, but this time they had managed it in two; the sun might be dipping well below the horizon but it had not yet truly set. It would be a late night for the both of them but they had made it.

"Well done, Don'," She said, rubbing at the feathers behind his ears. "There'll be some juicy rabbits for you when we get home, promise."

Donovan squawked appreciatively, his black eye turning to meet hers. He'd hold her to it; but lucky for the both of them she had made sure to arrange it before they left.

Hannah would either find some trappers who had catches she could buy, or set about doing it herself.

This was to be their last flight like this for a while, not that she would ever stop flying with Donovan, but her father had no more letters for her to carry after these last few. For now at least, he was sure to have more and it would be nothing more than a temporary reprieve from the flurry of communication he had begun after his meeting with Gwen. It had seen her soar all across Gilneas, as far and wide as the Marley’s estate in the Elem Vale, to the Canburry Shipyards, or even all the way to misty Duskhaven.

It still burned that, despite her efforts in aiding in their work, that she had still been left out of the planning, the decision making. But she knew where the blame lay and it was not with her friend. Her father had never truly coddled her, hidden the truth of things, but he did try to hide or keep her away from the more cruel and cutthroat aspects of the court and world from her.

Even though she had been part of the events that lead to Godfrey’s small fall from grace he had kept her from the politicking and arguments with the king that had ensued. She had enjoyed the time she had spent with the dashing Prince Liam at the time, but no matter how much she enjoyed their quiet dance she should have been part of it.

She was her father's heir. No matter how much he wished for her to be safe and protected she couldn't rely on him forever.

Things were not yet so urgent that she planned on forcing the issue, but before long she would confront one of them about their secrets and plans. Vivi's belief that they could trust Gwen to tell them when the time came be damned, it was her right to know.

Donovan landed in the central courtyard of Silverlaine Keep, several of the stable hands approaching cautiously, and she quickly unclasped herself before dismounting.

"Lady Crowley," Baron Silverlaine said as he tilted his head respectfully, wearing a genial smile on his face. Beside him stood his wife along with one of his sons, William if she remembered right. "It is good to see you again, I am afraid we have already finished supper but I did order the cooks to prepare a meal for you as soon as the lookouts spotted Donovan."

"My thanks, Baron Silverlaine." Lorna said, brushing down a few of Donovan's errant feathers before grabbing her satchel and leaving him to the care of the stable master. They were hardly experts like Hannah had become after Thane Keeland Doyle had lectured her on proper gryphon care for a week, but they were not wholly inexperienced. "Don't try to spook the horses, Don'." She warned him, "Or else I'll be cross and reconsider the rabbits."

He let out a low warble, asking her if he would ever do such a thing. She merely stared at him until he looked away.

Without another sound he trailed after the stable hands, pushing his head into their hands to demand scratches where he liked them most. Growing up outside a pride had left him something of an attention hog, and more affectionate with humans than most according to Thane Doyle.

"He is a magnificent beast, isn't he?" William asked, watching as Donovan strutted away. "Ah, my apologies. William Silverlaine, Lady Crowley." He said, bowing stiffly. "I believe we met briefly upon your last visit but had not the time for formalities."

"It is of no matter," She replied, waving aside the awkwardness of his introduction. "It is good to meet you, William." She waited until he had acknowledged her before turning back to the baron. "I have missives from both my father and Lord Candren," She withdrew them from her satchel; good, they hadn't gotten crumpled this time.

That had been an embarrassment and a half.

"My thanks." The baron said, taking the proffered letters. "Did Lord Candren mention anything to you about our... other business?"

"I am afraid not," Lorna said, shaking her head. Even those her father communicated with assumed she would be in on the planning and she wasn't. "He appeared pleased with the deal that has been struck, however."

She didn't know all of the details but it would be difficult not to piece some parts of it together. His Majesty wished for Gilneas to become truly isolated and was working towards that goal, and the existence of the Gilnean Navy ran counter to his desires. So long as there was sea travel the wall could not truly cut Gilneas off from the outside.

It was madness, but she had heard a startling number of rumours as to what he had ordered. From scuttling the ships in harbour to setting them ablaze on the water.

But, between Baron Silverlaine and Lord Candren some kind of deal had been struck. A great number of ships had set out from Canburry on the same day she had taken flight with the letter she was giving to the baron. That they had been sold rather than scuttled or otherwise disposed of, as the king had ordered, was clear; what Lorna hadn't been able to determine was why the Silverlaines were so interested in ships, or even how they could afford so many.

Whatever purpose they intended with more than a hundred large ships of the line, largely stripped of cannons and armaments, she couldn't even begin to fathom.

Though, as she glanced at William, perhaps she could discern it in part with a little effort.

"Good, good! Now, rooms have been prepared for you. I'm sure that after a long day of flying you desire little more than to rest."

Lorna hummed thoughtfully. "I'm not quite ready to retire for the eve," She lied, putting on a false smile and aiming it at William.  "I could spend some time speaking of Donovan, as your son seemed curious. Perhaps the story of how I acquired my mount?"

Baron Silverlaine raised an eyebrow, but as his son stammered out his clear interest under her attention he made no issue of it.

She didn't mind so much the way he looked at her; William was a well built young man and kept himself in good dress. He was also gracious enough to not stare overlong at her assets without returning to meet her eyes. Better than a number of noble scions she had met of late.

-oOoOo-

"They're for a grand expedition, from what my father said." William smiled, clearly happy to be answering Lorna's question. "It was Gilneas who first took to ships and set sail on the oceans after Thoradin united us all, you know? It wasn't always Kul Tiras that was the nation of sailors!"

Lorna hummed, urging him to continue.

"Well, just like our forefathers found the islands of Kul Tiras, and sailed as far as the South Sea Isles in ancient days, father sees the current troubles as reason enough to look to recreating the past." He gestured out over the scene before them, Pyrewood Village and the marshes beyond. "What would have happened if the Horde came here? I've no doubt the keep would have held, that our brave men would have kept the orcs and their fellow monsters at bay until the stores ran out or relief came. But all the people? I know Pyrewood is not ours, not legally, but we have always considered ourselves responsible for them."

"And my father has always been glad of that." Lorna said, smiling faintly but tilting her head as if she was trying to hide it. "The Crowleys have always appreciated the Silverlaines."

The situation of Pyrewood Village and Silverlaine Keep was a strange one. The mighty fortress was, in theory, subject to the Marley family; however ever since the War of Broken Oaths they had been so drastically weakened by the loss of Northern Silverpine Forest that they were in truth lesser than their own vassals, and what had once made some sense as the borders between lords had fallen into near absurdity.

Silverlaine Keep stood at the very southern end of the Elem Vale, the point at which Marley lands ended, while Pyrewood Village sat outside the vale in the forests and marshes beyond. Despite their proximity the village had no connection in whom they were subject to until the King.

But for centuries they had looked to the Silverlaines for protection anyway, as they held the nearest fortress in which to seek shelter in times of war and the nearest lords to arbitrate justice. Though with the advent of the Royal Courts under King Aderic VI a little over a hundred years ago the latter had become less of a concern.

That relationship would only grow closer now, with the wall cutting her father's lands in twain. Control over the gate or not there was tension between those who lived within its boundaries and those without.

"Yes, yes... well. We are always glad to be of service to the people of Gilneas." William said proudly, "Just because they do not answer to us does not mean they are not our people."

After how the rest of their conversation had gone Lorna wasn't surprised by his answer, but she remained impressed by it. "Well said, it is a shame some forget that. Despite the wall dividing us we are all Gilneans." She said, a genuine smile gracing her lips. "But I believe you were telling me about your father's purchase?"

"Oh, yes. Of course." He nodded, "Father, and perhaps Lord Crowley as well by the way my father treats his letters, believes this plague is some dire portent akin to the orcish horde. Stormwind survived by fleeing north, a grand evacuation carrying so many of their people across the sea... and my father plans the same if the worst comes. And if it doesn't?" He shrugged, a lopsided grin on his face. "Well, just like our forefathers we will set out to discover distant lands and settle them, be they islands or continents. Father has been perusing myths of some ancient land called Kalimdor of late, but I've found little save High Elven myths about where they came from before arriving upon the shores of Lordaeron."

He pointed out west, down the river Arevass and towards the sea. "The land isn't perfect for it, but father is constructing a port at the mouth of the river. Pyrewood has always had been enough in the past but with your father's permission a great armada will anchor there as we prepare for the journey."

"How interesting," Lorna murmured, wondering exactly what all of this meant.

It was clear her father believed some of this at least, otherwise he wouldn't be acting the way he was. He had fought in the second war, he knew how bad it had been; but to consider fleeing rather than fighting?

Lorna frowned, but carefully hid it from William. No, that wasn't it. Her father was planning something within Gilneas, he was adamant people were brought in behind the walls and given some modicum of safety. Safety from the plague? From yet another rising of the horde? She didn't want to think it could be the latter, though everyone had heard of the destruction of Durnholde Keep by now.

William hesitated, running his hand through his hair. "There is something more, but I cannot say I'm sure I believe it." He said, "My sister is a Priestess who studies in Dalaran, Alice has been there for close to a decade now. Father got in touch with her and she sent back a letter I had a chance to read; a girl in one of her classes some years ago, an enchanting class I believe, spoke some prophecy about a plague and tides of death that would follow it."

A prophet? Lorna turned to him, tilting her head curiously. "Certainly a strange thing to write home about."

"Quite," William chuckled, "I don't think my sister believed it either. Though, a plague has come... and if the rumours about the undead are true then tides of death could be an apt description. If it is enough for my father to believe it, then it is enough for me. I've already told him I am willing to lead our part of the expedition when the time comes," He grinned at her, the same lopsided grin that he used early; Lorna had seen better but it would be a lie to say her heart didn't beat a little faster. William was a handsome man. "Not that such is a great sacrifice, what more could a third child ask for than to uphold the legacy of our forefathers, to carve out a new home and domain for himself in a far off land? Let Adam have the keep, I'll have adventure!"

Lorna let out a soft giggle. "I know someone who would agree with that sentiment." Perhaps Vivi and William would be a good match? He hadn't shown any hint of disapproval of Lorna's discussion of her martial pursuits earlier. It was possible that was simply due to rank, but she didn't think it likely. "She has quite the appetite for adventure. If she had her way she, I, and another friend of ours would ride Donovan all across the Kingdoms to see the wonders that have been built. She's quite jealous our friend had the chance to visit Dalaran."

Not that Lorna wasn't either, she had the ability to visit the city easily if she so chose and had even seen the spires on the horizon once when she flew to Ambermill, but she had never been. Outside of Gwen there had been little magic in her life, Bishop Kendall had died years ago, and she had only met a scant few mages. The Spellweavers and that bastard Jonas...

Jonas, who had accused Gwen of speaking some horrid prophecy in Dalaran about the prince committing some heinous act. "William," She said, "Do you know the name of this prophet your sister mentioned?"

"I'm afraid not, though she mentioned her being a strange one." He mused at his chin for a moment, before snapping his chin and grinning. "Ah, that was it, she mentioned the girl was a Gilnean too, and vanished from classes after only a few months. Have you heard of her as well, Lady Crowley?"

"No, no," Lorna demurred and shook her head, "I was just curious."

The pieces fit together too well, too neatly, for her to ignore. Was Gwen truly capable of seeing the future, of predicting something as dire as the plague? And believed that there was worse to come? It was hard to imagine something that could be as bad as the Horde bearing down on them all, but if that rumour William mentioned about undead was true...

"Have you been to Dalaran?" She asked, wishing for more pleasant thoughts before she went to sleep.

Deciding how, and when, to corner her friend and demand answers – her father would likely tell her she is not ready, but Gwen would surrender if pressed – could wait for another day.

"Oh, I have. Father brought me along for Alice's ascension ceremony, and the city was a truly resplendent sight. They have running water in every home, every last one! And the streets are spotless..."

Lorna hummed, enjoying his description of the city of magic. It was much the same as how Gwen had described it, though there was a degree more awe in the way William spoke of the city.