Damned if I Do : Chapter 11 (Patreon)

Chapter 11: A Study in Balance

After buying the clothes and other such supplies for travel, there really wasn’t anything else left to do but get on the road.

Or the air, as the case may be.

Dalaran was about two days from Lordaeron City, as the crow flew. Which was far more relevant on Azeroth than it would have been on Earth. Prince Arthas and his few guards had ridden into Dalaran on gryphons, and Kael’thas had magicked up some sort of flying carriage for himself and the other apprentices.

It wasn’t as though he hadn’t offered a seat to me as well, the benefits of spatial expansions, and all of that.

But I’d picked my own ride.

Ahead, I saw the lead gryphon rider angle his mount down towards the ground, and with a twitch of my reins, my dragonhawk followed suit. I found myself smiling as the giant hawk/lizard/dragonfly lookalike tilted, her segmented wings humming through the air as we rounded a small clearing. I brought my ride down a short distance away from Arthas and his friends; the gryphons tended to be snippy and territorial.

I couldn’t be held responsible for what I’d do if one of them tried to take a bite out of my pretty bug.

“That’s a good girl.” I rubbed the dragonhawk’s head as she landed, and she gave a series of happy warbling chitters. At least, I thought it was happy. It had been a while since I’d been able to command bugs, and really, this wasn’t the same at all. The dragonhawk was more like a serpent/bird with (not enough) bug bits thrown in, but it reminded me of Atlas in some small way.

Reminded me of home.

I swung off the saddle, rubbing my pretty girl a bit more. I’d picked a hawk with bright red coloring and proud strips of blue chitin that ran down her long, almost-serpentine tail.

Really, from the front she almost looked like a shrimp mixed with a falcon, but I was an equal opportunity arthropod employer. It was on my CV.

“Apprentice Taylor! I see you took to the hawks well,” a man called.

I looked up as a pair of gryphons came down right next to me. Mounted on them were the last member of the Dalaran delegation, Rhonin Redhair, and his wife Vereesa. The two had joined us right before leaving the city.

“I see I’m not the only one who preferred the skies to the enchanted carriage,” I said.

Rhonin gave a short laugh. He was tall, like most humans on Azeroth, with long red hair. And apparently an accomplished enough mage to have won the affections of a High Elf ranger. For her part, Vereesa was dressed in tight fitting ranger leathers that left little to the imagination, and her white hair was just as long and free as her husbands.

It was actually kind of amusing to see them next to each other, because he was nearly half a foot taller than her.

“You spend enough time on the road, and luxury begins to feel strange,” Rhonin said after he finished settling his mount.

Vereesa laughed. “You say that, but you live for the open road near as much as I do, my love.”

Rhonin smiled wider, and I turned my head politely as he shared a quick kiss with Vereesa. The two were in the honeymoon phase of their relationship, and were clearly besotted.

“Still.” Vereesa’s cheeks were tinged pink when she came up for air. “It will be good to spend more time in Quel’thalas.” She gave me a kind smile as well. “Really, a decade in the city would do both of you good.”

“Oh?” I cocked an eyebrow. “Why’s that?”

She eyed my arm. “You’ll be able to acquire a better prosthesis, for one.” She gave a languid shrug. “I mean no offense to gnomish tinkerers, but the artisans of the city have been practicing such arts longer than Gnomeregan has stood.”

I flexed my metal arm. “Would it work, given how I can’t directly use the arcane?”

“I’m sure a gifted artificer would relish the challenge. It’s always a joy to find new inspiration.” She waved a hand. “On top of that there are several other benefits to staying in Quel’thalas as a human.”

“Such as?”

“Ignore her.” Rhonin laughed, nudgine Vereesa playfully. “Vereesa is convinced I’ll die of old age in the blink of an eye. She wants me to spend more time in Quel’thalas to extend my lifespan.” I blinked at that revelation.

“Please, love, I’m not my sister.” Vereesa smirked. “I wouldn’t want to keep you locked up when it was your sense of adventure that so drew me to you.” She reached up, cupping his cheek. “Still, would you really begrudge me another handful of decades at your side?”

Rhonin reached up, clasping her hand with his own. “Of course not, Ver.” His smile turned soft. “I’ll see if I can get some time assigned to Quel’thalas, after the Unity Tour ends.”

“I would love that.” Vereesa smiled wider, before taking a step back. “Now, come, let us set up our own campsite. The fire here will drown out the stars.”

“The stars.” My voice was dry as said fire. “Right.”

The newlywed couple laughed, traipsing from the clearing with barely disguised intent as Jaina came up to my side.

“They’re adorable together, aren’t they?” she said. “I was surprised that Prince Kael invited Rhonin along, but it makes sense considering that he is wed to Vereesa Windrunner. Her sister is captain of the Rangers.”

“A nice little sign of unity.” I smiled. “They even flew side by side. Though I guess it’s pretty normal for couples to fly places for their honeymoon, even back home.” Jaina laughed.

“How did flight work, in your world?” Jaina tilted her head as we both meandered over to where Arthas’s party had finished making camp. Well, I guess Jaina’s water elemental had helped, but still.

“Flight is just a question of propulsion and aerodynamics.” I shrugged. “We just found different means of propulsion, like the gnomes did.”

“Hmm, yes I suppose that was a rather obvious answer, in retrospect.” Jaina shook her head. “You have gyrocopters as well then?”

“We have helicopters.” I pulled a face, thinking back to the first time I’d seen a dwarven gyrocopter fly by in Dalaran. “They’re much more stable, and more comfortable, than the ones you have here. Also much less likely to fall out of the sky. Or shake your teeth out of your head.”

Jaina laughed again. “I suppose there are advantages to each approach. I much prefer magical transport myself.”

“Yeah, about that,” I raised an eyebrow. “I noticed that you decided to ride in the carriage with Kael instead of getting your own gryphon.”

Jaina just huffed looking away. “I’ve never been the best rider, truth be told.”

“More at home on solid ground?”

“Or on a ship.” She smiled. “I learned more than a bit of naval magic back home. That reminds me that I’ve never shown it to you.”

I hummed, wondering what that would be like. Could she maybe animate a whole war vessel by herself if she really wanted to? Seemed like a dangerous ability.

Still, Jaina was too nice. She’d never do something like that.

“Didn’t want to spend more time with Kael’thas?” I asked.

Jaina just sniffed, looking away. I gave a small laugh, coming to sit around the fire as travel rations were broken out. One of the soldiers had dragged over a fallen tree trunk, all by himself at that. It still surprised me that ‘normal people’ could get themselves a Brute rating just by training hard enough, but I guess it made sense. Jaina could casually violate entropy with the wave a hand; if magic were the only path to that kind of power, everyone would try to be a mage.

I sat down on the log, going through my own travel bags and accepting a cup of a warm stew as I pulled out the smallest book that Kel’Thuzad had given me. The other mages stayed long enough to share a few words before they all disappeared into a magic tent, but I enjoyed the fresh air.

Jaina, it seemed, shared the same opinion, when she settled down onto the tree trunk next to me as the guardsmen and Prince Arthas saw to their own more… natural accommodations.

The prince was apparently a fan of roughing it.

Jaina bumped my shoulder. “Studying already?”

I smiled. “Only have so much daylight.” I glanced towards the horizon. It was already late evening, the sun just now dipping behind the horizon. “Plus, not all of our masters are as doting as Antonidas.”

Jaina rolled her eyes. “Master Antonidas doesn’t dote on me, Taylor. He just has reasonable standards of work. You and Archmage Kel’Thuzad will burn out at this rate.”

“If we’ve lasted this long, I don’t see what the problem is.”

She huffed. “You’re hardly anywhere as old as Kel’Thuzad.”

“Didn’t I tell you?” My smile grew. “It’s not the age…”

“It’s the mileage, I know I know.” Jaina waved a hand. “I’m not a newborn babe, Taylor.”

I chuckled. “No, of course not.” But, if I let myself be a little vain, I doubted she’d watched the last Day unfold with hundreds of eyes, even if only for a short while. It…changed me, in ways I was still only discovering.

And on that note, I opened the book on reaching into the Abyss for power.

The opening page was blank, and the dark material of the cover felt worn in my hands. I saw a mark in the bottom right, kind of like an ‘N’ and an ‘S’ scrawled with a distracted hand. Turning that over, the following double-page spread opened with sketches of magic circles, complete with notes and musings of someone far more knowledgeable than I.

“It looks like a journal.”

I snapped it shut, giving Jaina a look. For her part, she had the decency to look embarrassed at least.

“What?” She fiddled with the hem of her robe.

“I told you I wasn’t going to help teach you Void Magic.” I shook my head. “Really, it’s like you’re trying to cheat over my shoulder for a test.”

She reeled back with a wide-eyed gasp, almost as if I’d slapped her.

“Why, I would never!” Jaina folded her arms in protest, turning away from me with a huff. “And I was simply curious about the material that you were given. I didn’t think Dalaran would have much in the way of instruction on these types of magics.”

“We had enough on necromancy, didn’t we?” I asked. Then I pushed Jaina’s shoulder lightly, the humor from her reaction bleeding away. “And stop dodging the question. This stuff is dangerous, Jaina. And unlike Kel’Thuzad, I don’t have the experience to purge void energies from someone if they go too deep.”

“You’ve managed to keep yourself centered through it all.” Jaina tossed her head. “I hardly see what makes it so different from Necromancy.”

I sighed. “The difference,” I said, “is that at the end of the day, Death wants you to die. It will loan out a bit of power to entice you, deaden your pains and your worries until you think you can take on the world. But at the end of the day, Death is your end, and there is a part of every living thing that will resist it.”

Jaina blinked at me. “And Void?”

“Void is you.” I shrugged. “Everything you ever were and ever could be, all at the same time.” I felt a wan smile drift across my features. “That’s what makes it so insidious. There is no small, inviolate part of you that fights back against the Void. Just like the very darkness it represents, once you let it in, it touches every part of you.” I shivered. “And it feels so good.”

I swallowed, remembering how it felt the first time, like I was… almost whole again. “That’s why I want you to wait: once you know where it rests, you can always feel it. It’s waiting for you. Right after sunset, just past a snuffed candle, it’s there, like it’s eager to be used. Each time, if you lose focus–control–for even a heartbeat, it will suck you down into the darkness and never let you go.” I laughed. “And you’ll be glad for it.”

“That’s…that reminds me of a song from my home.” A troubled expression settled across Jaina’s features like a shroud at the memory.

“And once ye leave your soul below
The tide shall bear ye whole, below…”

Her voice was soft, but rich. I could only nod. “Just like that.”

Jaina exhaled, shaking off the unease to eye me a bit more skeptically.  “Maybe. But that still doesn’t explain how you alone are able to control it.”

“Not me alone, Archmage Kel’Thuzad has managed as well.”

She huffed, waving a hand as if to say ‘get on with it’.

I hummed, leaning back as I flicked through the pages of the memoir in my lap. It was a host of diagrams and spells, some only half complete, others faintly glowing with contained power. “Sometimes, I wonder what the difference is as well.”

Jaina raised an eyebrow.

My fingers skimmed down the pages, landing on a name. “You were there, weren’t you? In the Chamber of Air?”

Jaina paused, before nodding. “When they found you? Yes. I told you that story, I think.”

“I didn’t tell you mine.” I reached up with my other hand, brushing two fingers across the smooth skin of my forehead. There wasn’t a divot where the bullet had passed through my skull. The Light was too deft for that, especially when combined with Arcane healing.

Still, I thought I could feel where.

“I died.”

“Yes, Master Antonidas said you were incredibly close to death.” Jaina frowned. “The wounds were difficult to repair, but—”

“No, Jaina. Before that.”

She gave me a quizzical look.

“I died. The bullets going through my head weren’t to kill me.” That much was definitely true. Contessa could not miss. She had hit exactly what she aimed for. “They saved me, so that when you brought me back to life, it wasn’t something else looking out from behind these eyes.”

I let my other hand fall back down to my lap. “I already gave everything I was to something so impossibly vast that merely touching it… consumed me.” I let out a long breath. “That is why I can keep the Void from hollowing me out. Because I already know what it feels like.”

Jaina stared at me silently. Sometime while we’d been talking, the guardsmen had made a roaring fire. They sat across from us, too far to hear our muffled conversation, but I could still see Arthas casting a worried look my way.

“I thought your world didn’t have magic,” Jaina finally said.

She couldn’t meet my eyes.

“There is more in heaven and earth, Horatio, than is dreamt of in your philosophies.” My voice was a murmur.

“What’s that from?” she whispered back.

“Another story,” I replied, “about a prince who drives himself insane.”

She swallowed, because what do you say to that? After a moment she rose, brushing off her pants.

“I suppose I’ll leave you to your studies then.”

I nodded, holding back the feeling of regret burbling in my chest. Across the fire, sitting amongst the guardsmen, I saw yellow, accusing eyes peering out of the darkness.

How dare I let her walk away?

Shut the hell up, Skitter.

Taking a deep breath, I reached out and grabbed her hand just as she turned to leave. Jaina stopped, turning back to meet my eyes as I gave a gentle squeeze. “After I figure things out more… I’ll help you get started.”

She let out a long, slow breath, squeezing my hand back. “I suppose you’re right.” Still, she didn’t look all that happy as she let go and made her way back around the fire. She fit right in with Arthas and his guards. Jaina had always been more of a rough-and-tumble kind of girl.

I pushed the matter out of my mind. The sooner I made progress at mastering my own art, the sooner I could help Jaina out. And then maybe she’d stop being so pushy about it as well.

My eyes tracked down to the name I’d found, probably the writer of the journal. “Alright, Natalie Seline, let’s see what you can teach me.”

I flipped back to the beginning of the book, taking a deeper look at the actual minutia of the spell diagrams and scrawled formulas. Then I frowned.

I flipped a few pages deeper, to a thaumatic equation that I actually felt like I had a pretty good understanding of. That was a rarity for me, because usually I was unfamiliar with most of the specifics of any given spell, and had no knowledge of at least one school.

Here, however, the opposite was true.

It was an incredibly simple spell, for all that it was incomplete, and the reason for that was immediately clear.

It dealt with balancing the Light and the Void.

Had Kel’Thuzad known? I shook my head. The better question was why he didn’t tell me to start here, instead of just dumping a pile of treatises on my lap.

Well…

I held up the hand of my prosthetic, my other hand tracing the patterns of the spell in front of me. I’d never thought of drawing upon the Light and the Void concurrently. With a small frown, I gathered a droplet of Void energies on my fingertip. This wasn’t a channel, just gathering the energy itself; it barely even qualified as a spell.

I ignored the yellow eyes, still skewering me from the darkness, and instead focused on the Light.

I know who I Am.

Slowly, painstakingly, I gathered a sliver of Light. In many ways, the Light was just as eager as the Void. Following the instructions of the spell, I let the two equal and opposite forces swirl around each other in the air above my fingers. They were drawn to each other, like oppositely charged particles.

I hadn’t noticed that before.

What I quickly did notice was that the beads of light and shadow quickly accelerated, spinning faster and faster even as I struggled to keep them apart.

I realized just as quickly that Natalie Seline hadn’t included a counter spell in this little practice equation of hers.

With a hiss of frustration, I snapped the book shut, an orb of Light springing into being around my rapidly destabilizing spell. But the new barrier required enough focus that I couldn’t keep the spiral of energy stable any longer.

Light and Void collided with a muted pop, and I felt my shield flicker from deceptive force. It looked like a sparkler, but exploded with the force of a grenade. Both energies vanished, as if they’d never been.

And then I was right back at the start.

I supposed it made sense that ‘balance’ wouldn’t be so easy.

“An interesting exercise in control.”

My head snapped up at Kael’thas’ voice. “Archmage,” I said.

“Please.” He flicked a hand through several quick patterns almost faster than I could track them. “There are more interesting matters to discuss.” I recognized only a few simple diagnostic arrays in the dozen or so spells he fired off in a breath to dissect the remains of my first experiment with balance.

“Inimical polarities of the primary magics, Light and Void in particular, are among the first lessons taught in any qualified curriculum. Though, I will confess to never having seen the two collapse each other first-hand.” Kael’thas, apparently satisfied with whatever his spells told him, let his hand fall back to the side of his traveling robes. They were less ostentatious than the last pair I’d seen him in, but they still brought to mind hazy memories of British explorers in pressed khakis as they ‘roughed it’ from their Cairo Hotels…

“I think I can guess why.” I turned an eye back to the book in my lap, and Kael’thas hummed as he followed my gaze.

“The journal of Archmage Natalie Seline then? Her work is distinctive…bordering on Heretical, some might say.”

I snorted. “It takes a particular type of person to mix two energies that explode on contact.” It made me realize that I should be a little more careful using Light to get rid of lingering Void influence. I held back a shiver at the realization that my own body had served as a buffer element to prevent a similar reaction.

“An interesting person.”

My gaze moved up to Kael’thas, eyes narrowed. “You know,” I said. “I think that might be the second time you’ve paid me a compliment.”

“Is it?” Kael’thas raised one of his long eyebrows. “I do not deign to keep track of such things.”

Yeah, like I believed that for a second. “What do you want?”

“My, my, so direct.” Kael’thas laughed, but I simply crossed my arms. I didn’t hold any illusions that I’d be able to beat Kael’thas in a battle of words. Blunt disregard for propriety was the only weapon in my arsenal. “I am interested in your progress, of course. Dalran is still a young institution, and already it has produced so many promising mages.”

It was my turn to raise an eyebrow at that. “And if this ‘promising mage’—or the college itself—were to explode as we sated your interest?”

He merely shrugged. “It would not be the first time.”

A second eyebrow joined the first. “For a student or for a city?”

He smiled, showing a hint of sharp white teeth. “Both.” As I muddled through that response, the Prince of the Elves continued. “In any case, I believe you’ve run into much the same problem as Natalie Seline once did. Balance does not entail equality.”

I blinked. “What are you talking about?”

“The smallest light casts back the deepest shadows.” He waved a hand towards the fire, which lit the entire clearing. “I have done little enough research beyond the Arcane—the sheer power of the Sunwell renders moot the need to subspecialize in other magics—but just because Light and Void are opposite, does not mean that they are equal.”

I looked down at the book in my hands. “A ratio…” I murmured.

“Hmm? Perhaps.” He shrugged again. “Or an alternation, or a matrix regulated by another magic. There are innumerable ways to combine such volatile forces without simply smashing them together like trolls or some other barbaric race.”

With that idle bit of racism, he drifted away. I shook my head at the casual Elven superiority. As I looked I noticed that a few of the other apprentices had left the tent as well, practicing their own magics.

And also Jaina was glaring at me from across the fire.

I blinked again, mouthing, ‘what did I do?’

She sniffed, turning to smile up at Kael’thas as he came over to greet her. They shared a few words before she rose, and gave Arthas a friendly nudge as she followed Kael back into the tent.

Well, at least not all the apprentices were outside?

Arthas, blinked, a few different emotions flickering across his face, before he turned his gaze to me. We both shared a bemused shrug at the behavior of our respective blonds. I chalked it up to some political nonsense.

After a second, I decided I’d had enough practice for one night—I needed to chew over Kael’thas’ advice anyhow—and made my way around the fire.

I plopped down onto another log next to Arthas, taking a proffered mug of something rich and foamy from one of the guardsman. Arthas, for his part, had turned back to the tent, blue eyes cast in glacial shadows from the flickering light of the fire.

But whatever he was thinking, he discarded it after a moment and turned back to me with a bland smile. Maybe he was expecting me to make polite conversation or discuss the impact of our trip through Lordaeron.

I threw back a gulp of beer instead. “Women, am I right?”