Amber - 20 (Patreon)

"This is nicer than I thought it would be." Vivi said softly as I ran my fingers through her hair, partitioning it out for a braid. I didn't do it much for myself, braids were good for keeping hair under control but I liked mine being free to go everywhere. "More relaxing than... it's relaxing."

I snorted lightly and kept going, the motions helping keep me calm and busy enough that my thoughts didn't wander. A half-crown braid, maybe?

Shouldn't be too hard, and it should look good. Her hair was nice and clean to work with too, maybe a little too wet but that wasn't a problem if I braided it loosely.

The first thing I’d done after leaving the… mess behind was grabbing a change of clothes, my magic bag and what few toiletries I’d packed, and headed to the stream. Getting clean of everything from last night and dealing with the utter mess that my appearance had become was... soothing. I had been an utter wreck, looking half-mad from how dishevelled I was when I confronted Janice. I knew there was such a thing as too prim and proper, I wasn't dealing with nobility after all.

But looking like I'd just come out of a tumble on the forest floor with leaves still in my hair couldn't have helped people's opinions.

I'd just been so angry, and I was still–

Vivi kissed my cheek. "You stopped," She said, putting on a pout.

My cheeks warmed but I couldn't help but smile as I returned to what I was doing. Vivi might not like her long hair, but I did, and having to take care of it for her so she didn't get frustrated enough to chop it all off... well, that wasn't much of a price in my mind.

"Sorry," I muttered, "Thank you for distracting me."

"It's fine." She said, kicking her legs in the water of the stream and starting to hum happily.

After a while I finished the braid, taking a moment to admire it, before carefully undoing it and starting again. A side lock, or maybe braiding her bangs back out of the way? Or a full braid over her shoulder. Vivi had lovely hair and there were plenty of ways she could wear it and even make it easier to manage.

It was a good way to pass the time. I didn't want to go back, not until everything to do with the Mingling was done with. I'd have to if I wanted our tent, but we could just sleep under the stars again... it wasn't like it was going to rain, and there were worse ways to sleep.

Eventually someone came looking for us, and I felt them before I heard them. Trix was... up to her old tricks, sneaking through the woods behind us with Richard and Heather following her. I was paying more attention than normal to my mana sense, looking for any traces of magic, and there was something else with them too. Faintly arcane, but still natural and– oh, that's how she was following our trail.

Where'd she find Tricks, though?

They paused a few dozen feet away and Vivi tensed briefly as a breeze whistled through the leaves, announcing their presence fondly. I didn't need the warning and noticed that they were friendly, but Vivi relaxed again quickly, leaning back into me and interrupting my work.

As she just snuggled into me Trix started to move, stalking forward with Tricks at her side and the sound of her footsteps... missing? Hidden, clever little fox.

"Good afternoon, Patricia, Tricks," I said as they were a few feet behind me. At first I held back my laugh as Trix groaned loudly, but Vivi had no such self-control and as she started to giggle so did I.

"I thought I had you! Did you give us away, Tricks?!" Trix protested loudly, though there wasn't any real complaint to her tone.

I leaned back, tilting my head until I could see her upside down. "If you say so, Twix."

She smiled with relief for a moment before squashing it. "Trix! It's Trix, not Twix!"

Smiling at her I let out a short laugh. "If you say so, Twix."

Trix stomped her foot in faux frustration as she crossed her arms. She only lasted a few seconds before she started giggling and moved to sit beside me. "I'm happy you're okay." She said quietly.

A flash of guilt ran through me, remembering how I'd treated her earlier. "I'm sorry," I said, my voice wavering. I'd nearly fucked my relationship with her up; I was lucky she was a good kid. "I shouldn't have gotten mad at you."

"I already forgave you!" She chirped, slipping off her shoes to dip her feet in the stream like Vivi. "And Richard did too. Didn't you, Richie?!"

I could practically hear him roll his eyes as he sat down next to Trix. "Yeah, yeah. You don't need to shout, Trix. And it's Richard."

"Riche's a way better name." Trix nodded firmly.

They chatted away for a minute, arguing over nicknames – Richard being foolish enough to call Trix's continued use of a nickname childish and getting splashed for it. Before long they were halfway down the stream, tossing water at one another. I made sure to tell them to stay in sight but otherwise it was nice to watch. Hugging Vivi made it a nice way to spend time; relaxing and seeing kids I cared about playing.

Though, they wouldn't be kids much longer. Trix was coming in on her twelfth birthday and Richard had already passed it.

Heather sat down on my other side, looking at me nervously. "Hey, Gwen..." She said haltingly, she paused and looked down, fidgeting. "I should've noticed something was wrong."

"No." I said, scrunching up my eyes. I did not want to think about this anymore. Meredith was gone, Alwyn was gone, and it was over with. Even if sodding Janice was still around it was done. "No, just..." I took a deep breath. "How was your night with Daniel?"

"Gwen, no, I'm really–"

"How was your night with Daniel?" I said louder, keeping my breath steady. "Did you at least enjoy it? Or was he all looks and nothing else?"

Vivi snorted. "He doesn't even look that good!"

I cracked open an eye to stare at her. Objectively, Daniel did look good; even if I hadn't wound up bisexual in this life I would've admitted that.

"Not compared to you, anyway." Vivi finished, smiling up at me again. Heat bloomed in my cheeks as my heart surged. I snorted, playing it off as best I could. Stupid corny lines.

"Well," Heather scratched her cheek, "It was... okay, it was pretty good. I expected him to be rough like he looks, but he was surprisingly gentle. I don't know if..."

As I listened to Heather talk about Daniel, mentioning his good points and giving far too much information at points – to Vivi's clear horror, she was very gay apparently and I had been horribly blind – I couldn't help but feel that this was what these days should have been like. Peaceful relaxing with friends with my girlfriend in my arms.

-oOoOo-

"–And that's why we should call ourselves the Sons and Daughters of Talloren." Johnathon said, his arms crossed in front of him as he spoke to the circle. "If we are to change who we are so drastically we must remember who we were."

Rachel scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Sons before daughters, of course you'd say that."

I glanced at her for a moment before sighing and going back to the embroidery I'd started up as the discussions had started to drag on, and on, and on. There had been a fight over whether we should change what we called ourselves, because the word witch, and even the older gwrach, were both tainted by their associations. With what I'd heard about the Crowskin Cult, and people comparing Meredith with them – favourably to the sodding bitch – I understood what they meant.

But... even though as a child I'd half thought of myself as a Druid rather than a witch I'd come to think of myself as more of the latter as time went by. We weren't Druids, we weren't students of Cenarius, and we didn't put Nature before ourselves or our people. We used our power, and that of the world, to help our people. And in turn, aided nature in living alongside us.

Our identity as the Witches of Gilneas was worth preserving, the good and the bad. We had been here long before those that ostracised us and, Keeper's willing, we'd be here long after them as well. It wasn't a settled matter, and when word came back about the Druids of the Kaldorei I'm sure we'd end up getting called Druids anyway, but... what outsiders called us didn't matter to who we were.

At least deciding who should lead us had been swift. It had taken less than half an hour to place the Fox Speaker and Speaker of Ravens, Aderic and Celestine, as our joint heads and representatives.

My 'school' had become a point of discussion in and of itself, with my promise to share any and all knowledge I had, to teach and guide apprentices that weren't my own, a key incentive for the witches to join. None had yet offered their knowledge to be added to the pool, but it had been made clear that the expectation was there.

Another key point had been representation with the nobility and crown, a way to push back and seek redress against those who would go so far as to form lynch mobs and force us from our homes. I knew Darius would consider it a simple price, and Vivi confirmed when she was brought up to answer his position on the matter, to offer his political protection for all of us. And it wasn't lost on any of us that, negotiating as a whole, we had power that as individuals we lacked.

It was what gave the Church of the Holy Light its strength. You weren't contending with a single priest, a single lay brother or sister, but an entire institution which would fight for even the lowliest of their members.

To some, that held enough appeal all on its own.

There was a question of dues, of course, how our organisation could be funded to achieve all of these things; we couldn't rely on Darius' largesses forever. To do so would be to make us his puppet organisation, and while I, personally, had no issue with him or Lorna de facto leading us... it was very much wrong. We should be independent, and for that, we would need coin.

And bureaucrats, people to handle mundane matters that didn't require a fully-fledged witch to achieve. Sales of tinctures and potions to the public or nobility, rare herbs and ingredients to the Royal Alchemical Society, a harvest blessing to farmers, or healing for those able. Nothing new, but done in a safer manner and with protections in case things go wrong.

Mama and I had been lucky that Duke Candren was honourable rather than superstitious, keeping his contract to pay Mama for the work she did on his rose garden all those years back.

All of that had taken the better part of a day and a half and yet was still hardly finished, but despite how long it was taking the discussion of what to name our organisation was somehow twice as infuriating as anything that had come before it. Without any examples from our history, our group always being part of one tribe or another until Gilneas was conquered and settled by Arathor, we just were. Witches who helped their people, magic users who passed down knowledge from master to apprentice across millennia.

As witches, we weren't distinct from our tribes, our people, until we were forced to be. And by that point, there weren't enough of us to meaningfully divide us besides gender.

What few examples there were of special covens or groups tended to be the likes of the Crowskin Cult. The ones that lived up to the bad reputation behind our name.

"Someone has to come first. I'm sure you'd choose the Ravens before the Foxes," Johnathon waved a dismissive hand at Rachel. "Which would just be backwards."

Letting out a long sigh I tuned out as yet another argument started.

Sons and Daughters of Talloren, the Blackwald Order, Keepers of the Forest, the Harvest Witches, Raven Watchers and Fox Walkers, more than a dozen names and none of them fit. The ravens and foxes had abandoned us, even Tricks – though, I got the feeling she was off playing with Trix rather than disappearing entirely.

I envied the kids who didn't need to take part. Vivi too, who was able to sit this mess out unless someone brought up Darius and we needed her input. She got to spend her time wrangling the kids so they didn't get into too much trouble. Maybe if I was in a better mood and not put on edge anytime someone with a deep rumbling voice spoke I'd enjoy taking part. Think up my own name and throw it into the ring.

Looking at Sarah, a witch who had no prior associations with Meredith who was seemingly becoming the new face of the traditionalists, and seeing her argue with Rachel I wondered if I should do that anyway. Just a suggestion wouldn't be enough, though. No. It'd have to be suitably dramatic to get their attention and achieve something.

It could even be fun, showing them all up.

The question, of course, was what. It felt like Johnathon had been close with his suggestion, but he fell into the same trap of favouring one side too much as all the Fox and Raven based suggestions had. Plus, using the name Talloren when I still thought of the Great Tree, the Wild Home, as Tal'Doren... it didn't sit right with me. But, at the same time, the tree was the symbol of our unity.

This place, this glade, was where we had gathered for generations. The last place in Gilneas that we held truly and completely sacred, going to great lengths to protect its secret and only allowing outsiders by invitation.

Celestine looked at me as I abruptly stood and made my way out of the circle, but made no comment. A few others did, but I ignored them.

Tal'Doren's main trunk, directly beneath the ruined arch that marred the Great Tree and marked the Kaldorei influence on this place, was a short distance away. As was only proper we were discussing this before Tal'Doren, and yet... we hadn't really tried to include the tree in our discussions either.

I placed a hand on the bark of the tree and breathed out, my heartbeat slowing.

And slowing.

The attention of the Crowned King of the Blackwald fell upon me but I didn't waver, instead coming closer to synchronising with it. We needed something, a symbol of the tree, to unite us. And that would come best from the tree itself.

An Order of the Leaves...? No.

Of the Branch? No.

Not the tree, no.

Branches creaked and leaves whispered. Muted shouts echoed behind me, distorted by the speed of the world as it moved on without me. I raised my eyes into the canopy of the tree, feeling what it was asking me. Words formed of shaking leaves and shifting branches, the howl of the wind and the weight of a duty nine thousand years past.

"Yes," I said, the answer simple. "I was always planning to. No seal lasts forever."

There was no direct answer, silence falling over the glade, but slowly resin bubbled up through the bark of the tree into the palm of my hand. I could feel the magic it bore, the magic of Tal'Doren, of Gilneas, and of Nature as a whole.

It flowed into my hands and yet did not spill out of them, simplicity itself to form the resin into an orb, which itself solidified on its own into amber that I could carry away easily.

Turning around I saw a concerned Celestine looking me over, examining me for any harm. After a moment, seemingly satisfied that nothing bad had happened to me, she sighed.

"Gwyneth, niece, I love you dearly..." She said, rubbing at the bridge of her nose. "But please. Stop doing this."

I raised an eyebrow carefully, hiding my amusement and not feeling a single fragment of remorse. "I have a suggestion to put to the circle if they would hear it."

She sighed again, even deeper.

"Go ahead, Gwyneth," Aderic said, seeming almost as amused as I was. "I'm sure one more suggestion cannot hurt."

"We have sheltered under Talloren's boughs for generations. Before we were divided into Foxes and Ravens, before we split ourselves for safety, before the coming of the church, we sheltered here. Since long ago, since the time we ceased to be simple gwrach, the wise men and women of our tribes, and became our own kin this glade has been our heart. Our most sacred of places." I said, knowing that even with Tal'Doren's blessing there had to be some degree of presentation to this. "Johnathon was right to honour the Great Tree, our shelter and home, but his mistake was not to speak to our protector."

"Because no one's crazy enough to bother Talloren..." Rachel muttered not so quietly. "Except you, Watchers girl."

I held up the orb, the perfect sphere of Amber, between my hands. "I put forth that we are the Order of Amber, protectors of the lifeblood of Gilneas' wild places, be they forests, mountain dales, marshes, or heathlands. We bridge the gap between the natural world and the peoples of our home, and there is no symbol greater for that than that which has been offered by the Wild Home itself."

Dozens of eyes stared transfixed at the orb in my hands and, with a careful thought, I pried a small fragment out of the orb. A fraction of a fraction, less than a thousandth of its whole, and handed it to Celestine. Then another to Aderic.

"My skills lie elsewhere, yet working this into a symbol of our Order, a necklace and badge of office... that would be suitable, would it not?"

Aderic looked down at the amber in his hand, rolling the magically malleable substance between his fingers. "Yes, I do believe it would."

In short order a vote was called, and though far from unanimous the blessing of Tal'Doren itself was something of a deciding factor in winning my suggestion a landslide victory.

Much to my regret, it took all of half an hour – half an hour of the amber being divvied out to those who would wear it – for a new argument to start up. This time on what, exactly, would the rest of the symbol take the form of. It was never going to bloody end.

-oOoOo-

I paused to give Vivi a hug, my fingers twirling in her hair as I took a deep breath. It was far too soon that I had to let go, as much as I didn't want to. "See you in a bit, Vivi." I said, smiling just from that short contact. Her answering pout, unhappy that I was going, was adorable; almost criminally so.

Lorna could take lessons from her on pouts.

Her fingers trailed on my arm as I stepped away. "See you, Gwen."

"Ready?" Aderic asked and I nodded. Time to meet whoever it was he'd mentioned three days back, right before...

Whoever it was he'd mentioned three days back.

Unusually for the inquisitive and talkative old man he led the way in near silence, taking me behind Tal'Doren and up a rough path in the hill that lay beyond. A fox darted out of a burrow as we passed, winding its way around his legs, before starting to walk ahead of us.

I'd already had some suspicions, but that really rather settled things as to who we were going to meet. Tricks, Blink Fox and magical as she was, had to have some progenitor. The likes of a Loa, Spirit Beast, or possibly even a Wild God. Much as Rokkri whom the Speaker of Ravens had named had to be the progenitor of the Duskwing Ravens.

A small presence brushed against my legs and I looked down, spying Tricks peering up at me.

"Hi," I murmured, not wishing to break the silence.

She moved ahead of me, leading the way, as her twin tails waved mesmerisingly in the air in front of me.

"Keep your eyes upon your guide," Aderic said, his voice quiet. "It is easy to get lost on the path to his lair."

"Who?"

He merely glanced at me for an instant before turning back to the fox leading him.

I took in a breath, focusing more upon what I could feel than what I could see. It wasn't hard to feel the magic in the air, but... for all that I could tell it was there, that it was misleading my senses – and didn't that rankle – I couldn't see through it. Gritting my teeth I focused on Tricks, the little fox I was... decently sure was a friend.

She wouldn't lead me astray.

Hopefully.

We clambered over cliffs that couldn't be present, across streams that appeared from nowhere, going out of our way to weave between particular trees in a specific order. Any time I slowed Tricks paused, waiting for me. One moment, when Aderic stepped around the trunk of a tree he simply vanished. Not just from my sight but from my sense of his magic as well; as if he had teleported away.

Tricks was quick to nip at my heels and spur me onward.

Each minute that I remained in the maze, where we doubled back on ourselves to take different paths, sometimes catching up with Aderic and sometimes not, I grew more uncomfortable. It was all well and good to understand I was trapped in an illusion, but it wasn't at all helping me escape it.

I was going to wring Aderic's neck for not warning me. He should have bloody realised I would have issues with this.

Then, as we stepped under a specific branch of a Blackwald Oak tree and shimmied past the thorns of Black Thorn Vine, we came out into a Grove. A capital 'G' Grove sat atop the hill behind Tal'Doren, looking out over the glade in which all the witches camped. Aderic was sat on a log, rubbing at his feet while his fox guide snickered at him.

A couple of fox kits teased at his trousers, nipping and pulling as they played under the gaze of older foxes. Many of which were scattered around the grove.

But none of that was what truly caught my attention and held it. I had felt Tal'Doren's presence many times now, an ancient and timeless weight which bore down on you with the certainty of aeons. A great force that before I could only compare to the anger and presence Modera had pushed towards me in Dalaran when she had cast me away. An absolute certainty that I, standing there under its gaze and attention, was so small.

And it was dwarfed by the mere presence of what lay before me.

"Oh, you're finally here." The Great Fox said, pushing himself up onto his three legs and setting his bright red and silver fur shimmering in the light of the Grove. "I do hope little Tricks didn't play any tricks on you, she's a mischievous thing, my granddaughter." He grinned, a grin far, far too many teeth – foxes didn't have that many teeth. They didn't have two rows of teeth. "I am Renard, The Silver Tongue."

His eyes shone with a brilliance I remembered from my first time beneath Tal'Doren's boughs. A brilliance I had only seen fleetingly in my visions.

"I am the Fox, blessed by Frey. What say you, to your God of the Wilds?"

He was resplendent and majestic, a Wild God whose very presence echoed in the Dream of the world. Even though he was scarred, a sickly green and black stump in place of his left foreleg, great tears in his left ear that left it little more than tatters, and great rents of white in his fur that spoke of old wounds beneath, he was the most beautiful animal I had ever seen.

The very air itself was awash with Life in his presence, filling this grove. A concentration of magic that I had only felt in Dalaran before; only there was no Arcane here.

My lips worked slowly, forming an answer to his question, but wrapped up in examining him and still feeling frustrated from the illusions of the maze I didn't truly think before I spoke.

"Her name is Freya." I said indignantly.