Harvest - 11 (Patreon)

My notebook of seven and a half years was starting to get worn, the carefully scrawled English letters starting to fade as the ink I could afford as a child started to give out. Some parts of the book I could recall word for word, recite from memory, where others were a surprise to me even now, and then there were others that I'd only recently added. Princess Tess' sneaky streak was obvious in hindsight with her becoming a rogue in the future, but it wasn't something I had remembered before.

It was hard to tell how useful that information might be, near pointless trivia about a girl of six, but I wasn't going to let it go just because I couldn't think of why it might be useful.

I slipped my notebook away into my emptied bag. Two copies of the book I had written for Jaina followed it; printed versions that would be more easily legible to people unused to Gilneas' dialects of common. I kept the original for myself. If I brought just one I was sure the Kirin Tor would confiscate it, even if I gifted it in secret to Jaina.

That wasn't something I could allow to happen. That book, giving her that knowledge, had been the cornerstone of my plan to change things for too long to give it up. She should have gotten it from the Gilneas Brigade when they joined her, but this mess was turning that on its head. Something that no one aside from Modera and Jaina themselves seemed happy about.

Celestine and Aderic had taken a lot of convincing just to grant me permission to go, threatening to use their authority as speakers to keep me in Gilneas if it would stop me abandoning them.

Only swearing an oath to return on Rokkri's feather, in Freya's name, had placated them. I would never abandon Gilneas. It was my home.

“I’m ready.” Vivi said, pushing her way into my room. “All packed. When do we leave?” She was dressed in her training clothes, her sword at her belt and the bag I had given her for Winter’s Veil slung on the other side. Her face was set and determined, ready to follow me to the ends of the world.

“Vivi…” I looked up at her with a grimace. “No, Vivi. You’re not coming. I’m going alone.”

“What?” Vivi exclaimed, a look of shock on her face. “Gwen! Of course I’m coming with you–!”

I shook my head at her. No, I wasn’t going to let her come with me. I was confident that I would be able to make it back; even if something went wrong I could learn how to take on Rokkri’s form and fly my way home. If the wall fell under siege from the Scourge while I was gone I would still be able to make it back.

“The archmages invited me. They came here to drag me anyway, they want to talk with me, not you.” I told her. I didn’t want to tell her I didn’t think she would be safe. I didn’t want to belittle her skills.

But Dalaran, the Scourge, the Legion, and all the dangers that I might face if something went wrong, weren’t something either of us could fight.

“And didn’t the queen offer you training with the royal guards before we came back here?” I hadn’t been part of that, but Vivi had been excitedly telling me about the offer while we rode home. While I was sure it was a political plot of some sort, it was still a good opportunity for her. A chance to hone her skills with the best Gilneas had to offer. “I know you have to deal with your family first, sort out all the courtship nonsense so our relationship’s official–”

Viv stormed up to me, taking my arm and holding it tight to her chest. “I don’t care about that.” She lied. “I care about you. I can find other teachers, I can learn another time, my family– they don’t matter. Not if I’ve got you.”

Meeting her eyes I knew she meant it, and so much of me felt the same way. But I knew what co-dependency was, I knew that it wasn’t healthy to lean into one other person so hard. “I love you, Vivi.” I said, standing on my tiptoes to kiss her forehead. “I truly do. Which is why… you can’t come. I won’t let you ruin your life–”

She cut me off with a furious kiss, pulling me in with a hand tangling up in my hair. My toes curled as she moulded my body to hers, demandingly pulling me closer and tighter against her.

When Vivi let me go, my chest heaved for air against the desire to go back for more. I could feel the heat in my cheeks from her touch and truly wanted to give in and agree to her demands just to get another kiss like that. “You’re not going to leave me behind. I’ll refuse to take on the teacher, any of them. Don’t think I won’t.” She said, her eyes blazing with the determination that I so loved to see. “I’m your bodyguard, Lord Crowley’s orders. I’m coming with you.”

Swallowing heavily I shook my head. I loved her determination, but this time it was misplaced. “No,” I told her, desperately wishing I wasn’t so afraid for her, “you’ve responsibilities to your family, to yourself. You need to do this, and…” I swallowed again, forcing me to meet her eyes. “And I don’t need you with me in Dalaran. I can take care of myself.”

My heart wrenched as I watched her determination turn to anger.

“Stop making excuses to leave me behind!” She shouted, her emotions boiling over and throwing her hands up before snatching my arms and clinging to them. “What if it’s dangerous? What if you need me to keep you safe? How can you know you can trust them?!”

“I trust Jaina with more than my life.” I said flatly. I trusted Jaina with the fate of the world. Of all the people on Azeroth at this moment, she was the person I was most sure about. “And, and– I’m not a child, Vivi. I can take care of myself.”

If I told her that part of my plan for escaping if things went wrong was the feather and using it to turn into a raven and fly away, she could argue that I hadn’t done it yet. And she would be right. It was a backup plan, something that might take me months of hiding in the mountains.

Arguing that wouldn’t help my case.

“I’m teleporting with Jaina and you won’t be able to follow.” I said, peeling her arms off of me and hating the way it seemed to break something in her eyes. “Please, don’t ruin things for yourself just to spite me.”

“If you won’t let me go with you, why don’t you just give them the stupid book?” She pleaded, sounding ever more desperate. “You don’t need to go, Gwen. You don’t need to leave me behind.”

I took a shuddering breath, my eyes betraying me as they started to fill with tears. "I have to. I have to try. I would never forgive myself if I didn't. I messed it up before, I was stopped, and this is a second chance."

There were a few moments of silence before there was a screech of rage and distress from Vivi, my girlfriend storming out of my room.

Mechanically, I returned to packing. Wiping away tears whenever my eyes grew blurry. I wouldn't need my dress, but I wasn't going without my toiletries. Or some of my spices.

When I finished and left my house, I gave a quick and perfunctory goodbye to Lorna, Frazzle, Donovan, and Tricks. Refusing to explain what happened while it still hurt. Hopefully Tricks wouldn’t cause too much trouble with Trix while I was gone; she had to stay behind for the same reason as Vivi. There was no way I could keep her safe, that she could keep herself safe, if something went wrong.

Looking for Vivi I found her by the water’s edge, staring out onto the slow and icy flow of the river. The wind whispered to us both, carrying the words that stuck in my throat and brought tears to my eyes again. I didn’t want to hurt her.

But if she heard them, she didn’t turn around. Wiping my eyes I looked up at the pitying face of Lady Jaina, the woman I was going to help, the woman who would go on to be instrumental in saving the world. “I’m ready, Lady Jaina.” I said morosely. “Let’s… let’s go.”

She didn’t say anything as she began her spell, and the last sight of Vivi I caught was her red hair dancing in the wind. Then, all vanished in a swirl as the world shifted with a storm of Arcane blue.

-oOoOo-

In another flash of Arcane magic which set my teeth buzzing once more, I was teleported into the centre of the Chamber of Air. A circular platform surrounded by a raised outer ring, and beyond that structures that resembled the lowest parts of the floating crystal above the Violet Citadel. Beyond all that open sky, above and below, moved as if in fast forward.

Or, did it?

Ignoring the five shadowed figures that stood on the outer ring, who had yet to say a single word to me, I raised a hand and called on a breeze to blow through the chamber. The air stirred and was blocked, running along a barrier – the mirage shifting enough that I could see it. The magic was so well crafted that I couldn't even tell it was there until it was disturbed. There was nothing but a stone wall, and after glancing at the still silent shadowed figures, I walked to the edge of the platform and lowered a foot to the floor hidden by an illusion.

"Honestly, this is more practical than I was expecting you to be." I said, suppressing the feeling of vertigo I had from standing on open sky. I wasn't afraid of heights, I loved climbing trees too much for that, but there was something disorientating about looking down and not being able to see what you were standing on. "I suppose I should follow Khadgar's tradition here? Isn't that right, Antonidas, Modera, Kael'Thas Sunstrider."

"Frankly, I'm more impressed you know that Khadgar pulled that trick than that you know the names of my fellows." One of the councillors said, not bothering to reveal themselves.

Modera sighed as she vanished her disguise, revealing the woman who I still felt a flicker of anger to look at. I believed her that she hadn't been the one to expel me, to banish me from the city, but after years of thinking that way it was hard to feel it.

Jaina Proudmoore touched the floor beside my foot, the illusion rippling lightly. "It's fake?" She murmured curiously. "Enchanted and I never even questioned it."

She had been my escort through the city of Dalaran, Modera having left earlier to avoid angering me and to prepare the council for this meeting. The city hadn't changed much since I was last here, though I couldn't help but look at everything with a sense of foreboding and loss. I had loved my time in Dalaran, had thought I would never see it again before it fell, and here I was.

Having walked through its streets and admired its spires one last time, to speak with the council who had defied me before. But all too late to stop what was coming.

"Let us begin this meeting at last." Modera said, shooting a look at one of her fellow councillors. "We have no reason to delay. Apprentice Arevin–"

"I was expelled. I am not an apprentice of Dalaran." I interrupted, meeting her eyes with no small degree of bitterness. If I knew which one was Antonidas I'd aim it at him but she'd still do. "I am a Witch of Gilneas, of the Order of Amber. Or, if you want my other title, it is Inventor."

Having met Lord Renard and Rokkri, both beings that outclassed even the archmages of Dalaran, I found myself surprisingly calm despite my situation. They had asked me to come because they needed my information. I wasn't the supplicant here. Maybe it was arrogant, it was certainly a little out of character, but I was still angry with them. I should have been here five years ago.

A variety of reasons for my flippancy. All to give an excuse for me to throw the fact they threw me out, to their own detriment, in their faces.

"Of course, I will still answer the questions of the Council of Six. The Order of Amber has had the support of the Kirin Tor, even if it was unofficial, in the form of Frazzle Tindersnap, and I still consider some of its members my friends. On that note, might I ask how Sorceress Goldensword and Magus Corrinth are doing?"

"You get ahead of yourself, girl." One of the shadowed councillors said. A different one from the last; with Modera revealed I could keep track of their positions at least.

He would get to be called Bully. The first one Flippant.

"So that's where Adept Tindersnap went." Flippant said, his tone flat but expressing amusement still. The illusionary shadows were annoying. "As for the sorceress and magus, they took ship to Kul Tiras early into the outbreak of the plague. Your words to them were heard – if, perhaps, not by those that needed to hear them."

Bully crossed their arms, but didn't say anything. At least, not aloud, there was something in the air and the archmages shifted slightly under their guises.

"Enough." A new councillor spoke. "Enough, we are here for a reason. As our fellow has said, there is no reason to delay. We are aware of some measure of the prophecy that you provided to Instructor Calebren some five years ago during your apprenticeship here in Dalaran, but that was incomplete. Speak, Inventor Arevin, on the course of the future as you know it."

The way Jaina responded to him, standing straighter and focusing her attention on him when she hadn't for the other archmages, added to my feeling that he was the leader. Antonidas. The man who had expelled me.

"Fine. I had hoped for an apology, but I suppose that doesn't matter much." I said, frowning at him. It wasn't like Modera had apologised for my being expelled either. "Not when millions will die in the coming year. To begin, this story starts with an orc you should all be familiar with; Ner'Zhul, once a great shaman of the Horde and teacher of Gul'Dan. The orc that is now the Lich King."

I told them of how Ner'Zhul was infused into a suit of armour and cast into Northrend, where he would build his Scourge on the corpses of the Nerubian Empire, on those few human settlements that existed on that bitter and frozen continent. How Kel'Thuzad went north to join them; how the necromantic experiments that they had banished him for would lead him into becoming the leader of the Cult of the Damned that plagued Lordaeron, albeit under the orders of the Dreadlords of the Burning Legion.

It took the better part of half an hour to just catch up to the present, with Arthas in Northrend and his impending return to murder his father. Questions ranging from the names of the Dreadlords, to check against their records – Varimathras, Balnazzar, and Tichondrius were the ones I remembered – to the purpose of the Kalimdor Expedition.

That, I would get to in time.

The question of where my knowledge came from, I didn't bother to answer. At least not in a way that they wanted me to. "Get me Archmage Krasus and his wife, and I'll tell you." I said, crossing my arms and daring them to push me further on that. "Him hearing what I have to say might actually make a difference."

More importantly, of the beings that might be able to heal Lord Renard, Alexstraza was one of them. I would gladly spill everything I knew to her if it would get her off her scaly arse to actually help. I had been fond of her as a character, the great big dragon momma with her overly sexualised outfit that the old teenaged me had liked, but now that I was living through the Third War I was wondering where the hell she was. Where the other aspects were.

Sure, she had been chained and only freed a decade ago, and they had fought off Deathwing, but the only instance when any red dragons were involved in the Third War was on the side of the orcs!

"I do not believe you understand what you are asking." Antonidas said slowly, his shadowed head tipping forward. "Archmage Krasus' personal life–"

"Lady Alex of the Red," I said, frowning up at him. Looking at the archmages on their raised platform was annoying; I was already short and it was giving me a crick in my neck. "I know exactly who I am asking for."

There was silence for a moment, a few silent messages flying between them, before Flippant responded. "Sadly we do not have any way of contacting Archmage Krasus, his sabbatical has been... thorough."

I rubbed at the bridge of my nose, frustrated over the stupid absence of the bloody dragons. "Fine. Any other questions? No? Okay, moving on."

The hours of talking wore on and on as I detailed all that I could remember of the Scourge's path after Lordaeron, from Uther the Lightbringer's death guarding King Terenas' ashes to the shattering of the elfgates with the aid of a traitor – that informed me that Flippant was Kael'Thas, with how demanding his questions became – whose name I could not remember for the life of me. All I ever got when trying to remember it was 'darth', which was not it and was something to do with Star Wars. It was infuriating. And after that, we got stuck on Sylvanas Windrunner and what I knew of her tactics, the support she received or didn't receive, and her fate of being raised as a banshee.

If I wasn't able to heal my own throat and ask for water from Jaina my voice would have gone sore long before we came to even just the Sunwell. The corruption of its waters and the rebirth of Kel'Thuzad.

"You speak as if the sullying of the waters would be the end of the high elven race." Kael'Thas said, his shadowed figure stiff. "The Sunwell has sustained them, empowered their magics, enriched the elven people and blessed them, but many live here in Dalaran. In lodges and enclaves elsewhere across the land."

I shook my head. "It doesn't matter. You're still tied to the Sunwell. Magic is addictive, I couldn't imagine a life where I gave mine up. It's the air I breathe, the water I drink, the very essence of my being. It changes you." It was hard to track from the inside the influence things had. Lord Renard's blessing, the fox form I had, was the most prominent and sudden influx of magic I'd experienced. How much of my attitude was his influence upon me? "The Quel'dorei have been supping from the Sunwell for many thousands of years. You drink magic in your mother's milk, it is in your food, practically tethered to your soul. Even here, so far away, behind magical barriers, I'm sure you can feel it, Prince Kael."

"Yes." He said, a hesitant pause revealing his uncertainty even if the illusions that changed his voice hid it. "I can. Always present, warm and welcoming. As it has always been."

"And when the Sunwell is corrupted, you will, as I saw you do, destroy it." I said, trying to stare the blank face in the eyes. "Before it corrupts you all in turn."

Salvation from one doomed fate only to be cast upon another. There were ideas I had, a few thoughts of how he might mitigate it; as the prince of Quel'thalas he certainly could get access to it. Doing as Illidan did... maybe.

Maybe.

Nothing could truly replace the Sunwell without involving Anveena or another of the vials Illidan took. I was still uncertain how much I wanted to tell him about that, and... I definitely didn't want to tell the entire council. Not when I didn't know who some of them were.

"Moving on; after Silvermoon falls it doesn't take long for the Scourge to come for Dalaran. Antonidas, you create a barrier, a clever thing that tears apart the magic that animates the undead. It is upheld by all the greatest archmages of Dalaran and works."

There was a sense of smugness emanating from Antonidas, the old archmage standing up straighter. Modera was frowning at him in annoyance; I supposed she'd enjoy this too.

"Right up until they bring in large, sturdier, constructs and overrun your defences anyway. Because while it works on the common ghoul, the basic skeletons and other minor undead, abominations and frost wyrms do not care." I punctured his smug bubble with a disturbing sense of satisfaction. "You make a valiant last stand but fall, as do the other archmages, one by one. And Arthas gets what he came for."

"And what is that?" Jaina asked, not the first question she had asked but she had largely remained quiet. "What... what did he come to Dalaran to get?"

"I don't know." What artifact they were after wasn't something I remembered at all. And while I could remember some of what was locked up here, like Atiesh, that didn't mean I had any idea which ones it might be. "A summoning focus, ritual, something, which they then use to summon Archimonde. And once he's here... that's it. Nothing on this side of the Great Sea can challenge him."

Alexstraza might be able to. Odyn, Archaedas, if they were free and at full power, but even then I couldn't be sure. And of all three of the options only Alexstraza was even vaguely feasible and had already been ruled out.

"This is absurd! No single demon–" Bully started.

"Do you consider yourself more powerful than Aegwynn?" I snapped. "The Guardian of Tirisfal? Do you? Archimonde the Defiler is one of the two lieutenants of Sargeras. He made a sandcastle of Dalaran and used sympathetic magic to link them..."

I frowned, looking up at the fake sky above. It had gone dark, false stars above us, shining a false light that wasn't part of the Astral. Even if I didn't already know it was an illusion that would have told me what it was. Still, I held my hands to my chest and tried to recreate the ritual at Tal'Doren with myself as the centrepiece. "It is easier if I just show you." I muttered frustratedly, ignoring Bully as he spoke over me.

It took a moment, my tentative link with Jaina only just forming, for Modera to pick up on my spell. She started weaving her own magic into mine; I wouldn't be projecting the image into their minds, sharing my own vision, but... displaying it as an illusion. I felt it as she hijacked the enchanted sky and the Destruction of Dalaran started playing.

Seeing it outside my head, the vision that had plagued my nightmares while I slept in this city, on what was effectively a screen for the first time in this life, left me oddly nostalgic. It was still tinged with the same fear I felt back then, but it was... different, not seeing it inside my head.

"Demonic." Antonidas said flatly as Archimonde began to speak.

"Eredun, tongue of the Eredar." I corrected him; I knew the name of the language even if I couldn’t understand it at all. "Used by demons but... he's an Eredar. One of the three who were their greatest."

Would Velen still come to Azeroth with all that changed? I wondered if he could see me, had seen me, if his visions would lead him here with how much was changing. It would be nice to speak with someone else who had to handle knowing the future.

"Let this scar signify the first blow against the mortal world." Kael'thas translated. "From this seal shall arise the doom of men. Who, in their arrogance, sought to wield our fire as their own." The image revealed Dalaran in all its glory, the city nestled between the Eastern and Western Alterac Mountains and sitting bestride the shimmering Lordamere Lake. "Blindly they build their kingdoms upon stolen knowledge and conceit."

The clawed and twisted hand tore into the circle it had so recently drawn. "Now they shall be consumed by the very flame they sought to control."

Silence fell as the first tower of Dalaran did, my memories of the creaking stone and crashing spire echoing throughout the chamber.

"Let the echoes of doom resound across this wretched world, that all who live may hear them and despair." Kael'thas finished translating as the vision faded away into darkness.

"Sympathetic magic indeed." Antonidas mused. "Such a thing is possible, but the scale of such a working is beyond any member of this council."

"Beyond this council as a whole." Quiet, the last of the five councillors present and the least talkative amongst them, whispered. "Destruction on such a scale has not been wrought by a gathering of mages since Thoradin's One Hundred."

"A conclave of a dozen magisters, backed by the Sunwell, could achieve such a thing." Kael'thas argued, though he still stared at the dark ceiling. "Demonic is not a tongue a girl outside of Dalaran could have learned easily."

I crossed my arms at him. "I didn't even know what it meant." I had surely read the translation at some point, but I couldn't have done what the prince had. "His defeat lies to the west, on Kalimdor, where the ancient kaldorei–" Not entirely to my surprise, Kael's head snapped to me when I named them even though no one else showed a reaction, "–dwell and demigods still walk the land. Prince Kael'thas, if I told you to seek the Whispers of the Wind and unleash the Brothers of Storm's Rage, would it mean much to you?"

"I would say you are being needlessly cryptic after hours of honest explanations." He replied. "Kaldorei and Kalimdor. It is well-known history that my ancestor, Dath'Remar Sunstrider, led the high elven people across the sea to found Quel'Thalas. That it was he who created the Sunwell." There was a moment of pause, hesitation. "But my family has records that thank Illidan Stormrage for allowing it to be done."

"Brother of Malfurion Stormrage, disciple of the Demigod Cenarius, and lover of Tyrande Whisperwind, who is the leader of the Sentinels of Mount Hyjal. Ten thousand years ago, the last time the Burning Legion invaded Azeroth, they fought them back. The world was shattered, sundered, as a result. But they won." I looked at each of them in turn, trying to convey the seriousness of this, before finally settling on Jaina. "And, I've seen them win again. You will go west, Lady Jaina. You will stand with them and be part of that victory."

-oOoOo-

Even after my declaration of what Jaina Proudmoore would do, what she would be part of, the meeting didn't end. Every little detail was picked at, every fragment of knowledge I could give them about the troops fielded by the Scourge. From the magic of liches to the makeup of abominations and all the way to what I knew about the workings of the Plague itself.

I had kept the details about what was going to happen on Kalimdor from them for the moment, however. I would speak with Jaina in private on that. She, at least, I knew wouldn't hold such a bias against the orcs that she would dismiss my words on Thrall out of hand. Disagree, most likely, but Bully at the very least seemed the sort to consider consorting with the orcs to be an act of madness, treason, heresy, or something of the sort.

Towards the end of the meeting, some events were planned for my time. I was going to get to see the experiments Antonidas was conducting on the Scourge, examine a sample of the plagued grain on my own terms, and generally get a feel for the problem.

There was some hope that my different style of magic might hold some clue to a solution. Personally, I was just hoping I could find a way to destroy the Death magic in a plagued corpse.

Curing the plague itself... was a pipe dream.

But all of that was for tomorrow, or later, or just not now. It was well after midnight when I staggered into the rooms I'd been assigned, and I didn't even bother to undress as I threw myself at the bed. The soft embrace of the luxurious pillows and blankets made me want nothing more than to fall asleep then and there.

Which was something I couldn't let myself do. Not yet.

With a tired groan I slowly changed into my nightclothes and pulled the object I had to study out of my bag, then on a whim waved a hand at the window and pushed it open with a gust of air.

"Interesting." I mumbled, stifling a yawn. "That was stronger... Oh keepers that's cold." I shivered, grabbing the blankets and wrapping myself up in them. It was good to know that Rokkri's feather was attuned to the wind – and not really surprising – but I didn't appreciate being frozen. Even if it meant I was more awake now.

Further insights proved elusive, the feather a marvel that I was glad to have, but it was also infuriating. It still drank up light, what little seeped through the window and whatever I conjured, and used it to reinvigorate or restore itself. Disturbed barbs and barbules realigned themselves moments after I pushed them awry if I had one of my starlights out, but took much longer just from the dim light coming through the window.

Fascinating, but not what I needed. Though it did allow me a better chance of feeling the essence of the Maiden of Dusk that lurked within the feather.

I reached out, trying to connect to it, threading my magic through the feather and twisted. Only to find myself staring down my muzzle at the feather, transformed into my foxy self. With a frustrated snort I pawed at it, which did nothing to reveal further secrets.

No, that wasn't going to work. When I had shifted I had used the spark of energy Lord Renard left inside of me. I needed to take what was within the feather and internalise it somehow. The question was how.

"It's almost annoying," I muttered as I shifted back into a human. "If he'd taught me the proper way rather than just gifting it..." I trailed off, thinking about the nature of my god. "Or, maybe, uh... yeah. No, I wouldn't have enjoyed that." He might have been helpful, but every moment I wasn't getting it right would be an opportunity to test, prod, and poke at me.

"Better not." I mumbled to myself.

I kept on studying and feeling the feather for hours, gaining a few further insights into the feather within. There was almost a hint of Tal'Doren's magic within the feather, but ever so slightly different from what hung around my neck. Daral'nir's, I realised, after I connected it to the alluring lullaby I'd heard from that tree during my dreams of being a fox.

Eventually I grew too tired to keep going, tucking the feather away. The last thing I saw before sleep claimed me was a large and curious raven with strange eyes watching me from my windowsill.

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Thanks to Trestira for beta reading this chapter.