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31_days2012-02-01 10:30 pm
the--ivorytower.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2012-02-01 10:30 pm
[Feb 01] [Warcraft] Fire and Ice 1/29
Title: Fire and Ice 1/29
Day/Theme: February 1: The Earth is frozen solid, like a heart that will not love
Series: Warcraft
Character/Pairing: Kael'thas Sunstrider, Jaina Proudmoore (primarily); Antonidas, Anasterian Sunstrider, OCs (secondary); No Pairings (so far)
Rating: G
Author's Note: These fics will be primarily unbetaed, and then reposted on my personal journal at the end of the month.
~ * ~
Kael'thas Sunstrider hated visiting Quel'Danas. Not the island itself, and certainly not the Sunwell. There were beautiful, elaborate estates here, reaching out to the sky like wanting fingers, trying to grasp the sun, moons and stars above. The gardens here were particularly well manicured, though all that remained outside had an oddly bleached look to it, as if it had stood exposed in the summer sun for too long. Kael had his own residence here, and while he found comfort there sometimes, he preferred Sunfury Spire, though preference indicated little in the way of joy.
Anywhere is better than here.
With him walked his father's second, Shelemvor Firesong, and his own second, Kylan'thas Firesong. The former looked grave and worried, a look that ill-suited the normally good-humoured man. Kylian's expression was carefully schooled indifference. He and Kylian had argued about this before coming to this decision. Now, Kylian would not speak of it and not argue.
Virtually no one was permitted to visit the Sunwell Plateau, and even fewer without bodyguards. Kael was one of the two that could, and the Firesongs were here as a courtesy. He cared for them both, they were like family how family was supposed to be. How family is supposed to care for each other.
Kael, Kylian and Shelemvor had cleansed themselves and performed the rituals the previous night before approaching. Kael's ritual robes flapped as he walked. There was no wind, no rain… not a cloud in the sky. Just an endless summer. Let me not live forever, Kael thought. I never want to live too long. While my people chase immortality, the life spoken of in our ancient histories, the stasis will kill me. The staleness of it all. His put his hand on the door handle, and then it creaked a little as it opened. Unsurprising, the door to this place was rarely used by its sole occupant.
The inner hallway was cool and dark, and Kael summoned a small light to float in front of them, leading the way. The hall opened up, and there they were. Dozens of paintings, all of the same face, the same warm, sad feminine gaze looked back at him. Some of them were complete, others starkly half-finished, missing a feature here, colour there. To Kael, they felt accusing, as if they demanded something of him. Every few feet there was a statue, sometimes a bust, sometimes fully-figured, some of them complete and others not. In these, the figure matched the woman in the paintings. Her robes were sometimes elaborately carved with whorls representing embroidery, others in very simple garb. In many, her hands were outstretched, reaching, her expression urgent and pleading. Kael walked on, careful not to touch any of them.
Kylian winced. "Shit, Kael--"
"Quiet," Kael snapped, and kept moving. He walked faster now, his footsteps echoing on the polished floors. By the time he got to the door at the end of the hall, he was running, and instead of knocking, he shoved the door open. Immediately, the dampening wards on the wall gave way to the immense power of the Sunwell in all its glory, raw and unforged. Kael looked towards the man sitting at the edge of it, wearing lounging robes. He was staring into it, the flickering of the red and gold light giving life to green eyes otherwise bereft of spark or emotion. The main's hair was short, as if it had been chopped at by an indifferent barber, and red-gold, and his features were gaunt and chiseled. "Father."
Anasterian Sunstrider, King of Quel'thalas, descendant of Dath'remar, didn't look up. Kael stepped closer, his heart pounding. Anasterian continued to stare at the Sunwell, and Kael could see a sketch, half-finished, sitting by his side, the pencils discarded and forgotten in favour of some memory. Kael didn't need to look to see the subject matter. He knew.
"Father," he said again. "I need to speak to you about something."
"Shelemvor can take care of it," Anasterian whispered. "Go away."
"An'naan, you need to snap out of it," Shelemvor said, moving past Kael and to kneel by his king and close friend, trying to get his attention. Anasterian shrugged him off. "Kael is here, he needs to talk to you."
"Take care of it," Anasterian repeated. "Go away."
Emotion swelled; anger, frustration, a desire to scream. Look at me, Father! Look at me, who I am! Pay attention to me! He forced himself to sound calm. "Father, I want to study in Dalaran. There is little more I can learn in Quel'thalas, and with the war over, Dalaran is a perfectly safe place for me to be." He swallowed. "May I go?"
Anasterian said nothing. Did nothing. Kael watched, his anger being replaced by a sense of helplessness. His father had been like this for years, or so his nurses and tutors had told him. They had raised him in the manner befitting a prince of Quel'thalas and the heir to the Sunstrider Dynasty. He had come here for the first time when he was a child, escorted then as now by Shelemvor and Kylian, the latter at that time had also been a child, flinching at shadows. This place hadn't changed, but grown. He'd visited here more than once since then, and it remained the same, as did the response.
"An'naan, please," Shelemvor said. "Kael is trying to tell you--"
"Do I need to sign something?" Anasterian mumbled. Kael flinched.
"No," he replied, and the anger returned. "No, you don't need to do anything." He turned to go, but his father moved. For a moment, he hoped. Instead, his father reached for the sketchbook, and stroked his fingers along the sketch's cheek. "She's dead, Father. She's been dead for a long time."
"It's not right for the living to love the dead like this," Shelemvor interjected. "An'naan, you need to move on, before--"
His father looked up at him -- no, past him, as if seeing someone else where he was -- and whispered something, a name. Kael's expression twisted in rage and he turned on heel, storming off back the way he came. Kylian quickly followed, while Shelemvor put his arms around his friend and King. Anasterian leaned into his shoulder and murmured the name again.
"Aindemalda…"
~ * ~
"Why's everything so purple? Are you trying to get caught?"
Antonidas, Archmage of Dalaran and leader of the Kirin Tor, chuckled. The girl at his side scowled up at him, her blue-eyed gaze belligerent and she tucked a stray lock of blonde hair behind one ear. "I don't mean to laugh, child… but caught by what?"
"Pirates, of course," the girl said. He chuckled again, and she looked angry. "Don't laugh at pirates, they're fierce and scarier than your big purple city."
"I'm not laughing at pirates," Antonidas said gently. "Jaina, look around you, tell me what you see."
"A giant purple city."
"No, look around you. Tell me what you see."
The girl -- Jaina -- sighed and did. He watched the way her eyes took in other things, not the city, but the waters of Lordamere lake that twinkled in the pale sunlight, the bridge that had taken them from the surrounding countryside to Violet Cross island itself, the site of Dalaran proper, home of the Kirin Tor. She scanned the coastline. "The water ends."
"It does, yes."
"This isn't an ocean, it's too small, it's…" Her brow wrinkled briefly. "A lake?"
"Good," Antonidas said. "We're not in Kul Tiras any more, we're on the mainland, and very far in. There's a lake here, but there's no banditry, no pirates. We are safe."
"Do you sail?" Jaina asked, looking up on him. Antonidas smiled.
"No, I can't say that I do," Antonidas said. "I was born in Dalaran, and studied here until I grew up. Sailing wasn't very interesting to me."
Jaina looked offended by the very notion. "Maybe I'll be the first pirate on the lake. How would you like that?"
"I would like it much more if you would agree to devote yourself to magical studies, as you promised," Antonidas said gently, and the girl looked away, a stubborn hint to her jaw. At ten, Jaina was more willful than a roomful of mage apprentices, and Antonidas believed sincerely if she focused that determination on something, it would see her through to the very end. If only she weren't so afraid of herself. "Come, Jaina. We're going to get you settled in."
She nodded briefly. Antonidas had wanted her to see the whole of the city before she became too busy to see it. The girl walked along side him, bold as you please, glaring at anyone who eyed her odd dress: she wore her best clothes, which for the Tirans meant a navy-blue jacket and matching pants. Beneath the jacket was a stark-white blouse, high collared though it didn't appear to be itchy. If it was, Jaina had never complained, never fussed or scratched. On the breast pocket and right sleeve of her jacket were matching silver anchors, and her last name, picked out in Tiran aqua: Proudmoore. It seemed to Antonidas to be more a naval uniform than something a child should wear, but Grand-Admiral Daelin Proudmoore and his wife, Lady Adriana, assured him that this was what all Tirans wore for particularly formal occasions, unless they preferred skirts, and of course, only Proudmoores bore their family crest.
I should bring her to the dormitory with the other students, but… Jaina was still a handful of years from being their age peer, and so lay the complication of Jaina's admittance into Dalaran:
Most mages were wizards. This designation was an old one, and oddly owed to the Arathi. The ancient human tribes had not known magic, not until Dath'remar Sunstrider and the High Elves had taught one hundred humans magic in the hopes that they would help them in their battle against the trolls. The tribesmen had called the elves 'wizards' in fear and ignorance, but the Dalarani took it as a badge of honour. A wizard was a person taught how to wield magic. In response to accusations that 'anyone' could be a wizard, many mages before him had challenged the speaker to learn, only to have them turn away in confusion and disgust. Not anyone could be a wizard. The potential was not the problem, but instead in ability. Concentration, discipline, a scholarly attitude. Once one had decided, a decade or more of study was necessary to become one. The great scholars of Dalaran were valuable, and when one didn't become a wizard, one could surely become another kind of scholar, one that would serve Dalaran and the Alliance well.
There existed a subset of mages, however, that were sorcerers. Some people, mostly humans, were born with magic, its potential shimmering just beneath the surface. It would emerge sporadically when control failed. Sometimes these results were disastrous, other times merely frustrating. Some died young, others gained a half-understanding of their power and went on to use it for various purposes. The Kirin Tor, when possible, identified such individuals and trained them as soon as they could. Rarely, tragically, the Kirin Tor were forced to drain off and seal the power of such individuals. It was not a decision they took lightly, and Antonidas regretted mentioning it to Jaina.
I don't want this 'gift'! Jaina had told him. Take it away, make it stop!
As Antonidas guided the girl through the city, he sighed. I am a mage by study, and it was something I always wanted. To want to throw away such a gift… He hoped that Jaina would come to accept her power quickly and begin to train. He -- and her father -- had convinced her to give it a chance, and Jaina had, but Antonidas worried that the same stubbornness that made him believe Jaina would be a good mage would also prevent her from learning how to use it in the first place. You're only a child, girl. There's so much more for you to do than be a mere buccaneer.
Jaina's family ruled Kul Tiras, and had done so since the nation's creation, which from the stories, had been founded after Rhiannon Proudmoore had either recruited or killed the various and sundry pirate captains and demanded the fealty of the survivors. She had chosen an island -- Kul Tiras -- as her own, and everyone else was expected to fall in line. How they had managed for some three thousand odd years to rise from being a ridiculous ten copper adventure novel to the most powerful naval force in Azeroth, Antonidas didn't quite know, but they'd bred something into their children: a love of adventure, a desire to buck the norm, and of course, a sheer level of determination that kept Proudmoores throwing themselves at an ocean that by all reports was as hostile as a horde of ravening orcs generation after generation.
Jaina's apparent great ambition was to be a pirate queen, to sail the seas, helping people, looking for treasure, and going on adventures. Her gift had set her apart from her peers, making her Other, but despite Jaina's attitude otherwise, Antonidas suspected that her desire to use her power, whether it be that to sail or that to cast spells, to help others would make her a fine mage... if only she had the right motivation to do so.
I will find it, Antonidas thought. I will inspire this child, and then she will become a mage like no other. At the moment, Jaina was studying Dalaran's wide, open walkways and the people in them. Most of those who lived in Dalaran were mages, though many of them kept to themselves. There was a smaller, but significant number of people who lived here and had no magical ability at all. Often, these people were the spouses, children, and other relatives of mages, or descendants of those who had come to Dalaran with the exiled wizards of the Arathi. These people bustled through the streets, buying books, looking at produce, gossiping or simply being. "Have you seen the like?"
"Tandred used to take me to the market when I was little," Jaina replied. "It was like this, but different too. When the ships come in, they bring things from all over the world. Fish, fruit, cloth... everything."
"When you were little, eh?" Antonidas asked, and Jaina looked up at him, her gaze remarkably stern. Antonidas patted her shoulder briefly and they moved on, past the small parks and gardens, sculpted and created to be aesthetically pleasing and perfect. Jaina wrinkled her nose. "What's wrong?"
"They don't look real," Jaina objected. "Where's the scrub? Where're the weeds?"
"We don't have them," Antonidas said, frowning. "Why would you want them?"
"My grandmother says that nothing is perfect, and if it is, you have to jab it real hard to find the imperfect part."
Insightful, and yet horrifying, Antonidas thought, making sure that Jaina didn't jab anything. "Grand Admiral Amelia is, as always, extremely insightful. However in this case, people wish for nice gardens to look at without needing to worry about who tends to them."
"Why not have a rock garden?"
"We do have rock gardens, though not here. Do you like rock gardens more than other types of garden?"
"Not really," Jaina said, after a moment's thought. "But you don't weed a rock garden."
"Indeed, it would be a weedless endeavour." Antonidas smiled to himself, but was startled by Jaina. She was laughing. There was a bright sparkle to the girl's eyes, and her laughter attracted attention. He felt, all of a sudden, greatly accomplished. "Come, let's get you to the Citadel."
The rest of the trip was no less eventful. Jaina had plenty of questions, and she didn't seem shy about asking them. Antonidas found this quite pleasant, particularly because Jaina never asked the same kind of question twice, and it was never one with an obvious answer... at least, not when one was ten and had grown up on an island. Antonidas spoke briefly to one of the clerks, asking for a runner to be sent to Kelnar Goldensword at the dormitories for advice regarding their newest student.
"In the mean time, you can stay in my sitting room," Antonidas said, gesturing Jaina inside. "It's only temporary, until we can find you a proper room of your own. There should be room... just wait patiently." He gestured to a doorway. "There is the bathroom, should you feel the need to relieve yourself or require some water. There's a cup. I would ask you not to go through my things, some of what I have is rather delicate."
Jaina nodded, and sat down on one of the couches. Antonidas smiled at her, and turned to go. Immediately, a half-dozen messages, lurking in the shadows, sprang at him as different voices spoke to him. One of them said something about a prince coming to visit. He sighed, and looked over at his charge. I will be right back. This won't take long.
~ * ~
It only took Jaina five minutes to be bored, and another five to get up and look around. She poked everything, though most of what she found was books, and not the exploding kind, either. Well, that's boring, isn't it?
As the archmage's words drifted back to her, she considered immediately and willfully disobeying him, but her brother Tandred's words held her back.
Sunfish, it's fine to refuse to dance to someone else's tune, he'd said. There are plenty of rules that can stand a little bending from time to time... but there are some times when disobeying the rules is silly. You remember Da's instructions for sailing your little boat, don't you?
Of course, she'd replied, offended. Da said they were the most important thing I'd ever learn.
They are, and you could disobey him, if you wanted. You could ignore his instructions -- his rules -- and then what would happen?
I'd get hurt, Jaina said, frowning. I might go to back to the ocean early.
You might, Tandred agreed. He stopped tuning his guitar and met his sister's gaze seriously. Some rules are important, Sunfish. You have to be a lot older and a lot wiser to figure out which ones should be broken. Until then, sometimes it's smart to listen to the instructions of others.
She'd nodded then, and she nodded now. Maybe something out there will explode. That'd be bad, we'd sink the big, purple citadel and no one's close enough for rescue. So, it was the books, then. She sorted through them, opening them up to random pages and reading. Some of them were filled with shapes and lines, others with pictures, and still others with lots of words. She leaned in close, reading:
Then Aegwynn took the body of the fallen Titan's avatar and placed it on an island she raised from the sea. In this tomb she sealed Sargeras' corpse, protecting the world from the dread daemonlord. Jaina's eyes widened. Adventure! She smiled, and flipped quickly to the beginning of the book. She propped the book on one of the couches, and lay on her stomach. Well, why didn't anyone tell me that mages did exciting things?
~ * ~
"I beg your pardon," Antonidas said, and Kael counted to three, taking in a breath even as he appeared outwardly calm.
"I wish to enroll as a student," the elven prince repeated. "While I feel that I have mastered my advanced studies in Quel'thalas, I wish to have the full experience of Dalaran, which is why I'd like to become a student."
"Where do you wish to begin?"
"At the beginning," Kael said firmly. He glared at Kylian, who was snickering, and then looked back at Antonidas. "I expect that I will advance extremely quickly through the lowest levels, and experience the advanced classes in a matter of months, but I still feel the fundamentals are extremely important. Of course, if there isn't room..."
"We've actually just received a new student, so there will be two of you," Antonidas said, and a smile tugged at the elderly human's mouth. Kael frowned. "Though your circumstances are extremely different."
"I see," Kael said. "Do you require any further information from me?"
"No, I believe we can draw up a schedule. Most of our students are fairly young, so they stay in a dormitory. I don't believe that will be required of you. Also, the quarters will be more private."
Kael opened his mouth to object, but the notion of privacy was too tempting to resist. He nodded.
"Will your... friend be joining you?"
"Not for classes," Kylian said. "I might look into something more advanced, but I personally just plan to slack off and look at the window dressing."
"I will strangle you in your sleep," Kael muttered under his breath. Kylian grinned.
"You adore me."
"I will arrange separate rooms for you, then," Antonidas said. "If you'll both excuse me, I have other matters to attend to."
Kael nodded once. "Of course, we understand." The Archmage nodded in return and departed. Kael looked to Kylian. "You could make an effort, you know."
"Effort is for chumps."
"Excuse me?" Both Quel'dorei turned to look at the speaker. A fellow Quel'dorei, this woman was slender and blonde, and her anxious, blue gaze darted about. "I was told Archmage Antonidas was here, where has he gone?"
"He said he had to look into other affairs," Kael said. "Magistrix..."
"Goldensword," the woman replied. "Kelnar Goldensword. I was to speak to him about a new student."
"Well, I'm a new student," Kael said. "Did he say who?"
"Oh, I know who the new student is, and I'm afraid you aren't her," Kelnar said. "For one thing, she's a human girl, and she... well, I'll try to find him. Welcome to Dalaran, Your Highness." She bowed deeply and then hurried off. Kael's forehead wrinkled in a frown.
"I was supposed to be incognito."
"I told you that you should have used the fake mustache, but no. 'It's ridiculous, Kylian,' you said. 'Facial hair is gross,' you said."
"I did not."
"You so did."
"I so didn't." Kael made a face at his second, but his heart lightened. He was feeling better already.
~ * ~
It's like trying to herd cats, Antonidas said, rubbing at his temples. One is gone for a mere half-day, no, less than four hours, and one would think that the city is collapsing. Ridiculous.
"Archmage--"
"Can it not wait?" Antonidas asked sharply, not bothering to look. "I have a matter that's very important to attend to, and I don't have time for--"
"You called me, Archmage." The tone of voice made Antonidas turn, and his eyes widened. "There you are."
"I apologize, Kelnar, it's been a long day. She's in here. It's been... by the seven theorems, it's been three hours. I told her I'd be right back." Antonidas beckoned Kelnar inside, and hastened towards his sitting room. "She must be worried--"
Jaina was curled up on one of the couches, sound asleep. Her head was pillowed on one of his books, and even as he feared for its spine, he was curious what she had picked. Kelnar stepped past him and knelt down. She put a gentle hand on Jaina's back. "Wake up, Sunfish."
"Mmmgh," Jaina said, stretching. "Hi, Kelnar. Is Finn here too?"
"She's at home, she wanted to make sure your room would be just right," Kelnar said, smiling a little. "It looks like you made a friend."
Jaina's eyes lit up. "There's a Guardian, Kelnar, and her name is Aegwynn, and she fought against demons and evil sorcerers and flew with dragons. She's a hero, and I want to be just like her! Can I?"
Matriarch Aegwynn? Antonidas thought warily. Mother of Medivh Aran, the great traitor? A woman who was so stubborn, so willful that she refused to pass on the Guardian's gift for nine hundred years? Why would--
"If you work very hard at becoming a mage, you can be whomever you want to be," Kelnar said. "But first, we need to return this, and get you to bed. Mages need sleep."
Jaina looked to Antonidas, and there it was. The answer to his need from earlier. It was the inspiration Jaina needed to tap into her true potential... and it lay with a book. He smiled. "No, Kelnar. She can keep it until she's finished."
Jaina's smile warmed the heart and the soul. It was time to learn.
Feb 2nd
Day/Theme: February 1: The Earth is frozen solid, like a heart that will not love
Series: Warcraft
Character/Pairing: Kael'thas Sunstrider, Jaina Proudmoore (primarily); Antonidas, Anasterian Sunstrider, OCs (secondary); No Pairings (so far)
Rating: G
Author's Note: These fics will be primarily unbetaed, and then reposted on my personal journal at the end of the month.
~ * ~
Kael'thas Sunstrider hated visiting Quel'Danas. Not the island itself, and certainly not the Sunwell. There were beautiful, elaborate estates here, reaching out to the sky like wanting fingers, trying to grasp the sun, moons and stars above. The gardens here were particularly well manicured, though all that remained outside had an oddly bleached look to it, as if it had stood exposed in the summer sun for too long. Kael had his own residence here, and while he found comfort there sometimes, he preferred Sunfury Spire, though preference indicated little in the way of joy.
Anywhere is better than here.
With him walked his father's second, Shelemvor Firesong, and his own second, Kylan'thas Firesong. The former looked grave and worried, a look that ill-suited the normally good-humoured man. Kylian's expression was carefully schooled indifference. He and Kylian had argued about this before coming to this decision. Now, Kylian would not speak of it and not argue.
Virtually no one was permitted to visit the Sunwell Plateau, and even fewer without bodyguards. Kael was one of the two that could, and the Firesongs were here as a courtesy. He cared for them both, they were like family how family was supposed to be. How family is supposed to care for each other.
Kael, Kylian and Shelemvor had cleansed themselves and performed the rituals the previous night before approaching. Kael's ritual robes flapped as he walked. There was no wind, no rain… not a cloud in the sky. Just an endless summer. Let me not live forever, Kael thought. I never want to live too long. While my people chase immortality, the life spoken of in our ancient histories, the stasis will kill me. The staleness of it all. His put his hand on the door handle, and then it creaked a little as it opened. Unsurprising, the door to this place was rarely used by its sole occupant.
The inner hallway was cool and dark, and Kael summoned a small light to float in front of them, leading the way. The hall opened up, and there they were. Dozens of paintings, all of the same face, the same warm, sad feminine gaze looked back at him. Some of them were complete, others starkly half-finished, missing a feature here, colour there. To Kael, they felt accusing, as if they demanded something of him. Every few feet there was a statue, sometimes a bust, sometimes fully-figured, some of them complete and others not. In these, the figure matched the woman in the paintings. Her robes were sometimes elaborately carved with whorls representing embroidery, others in very simple garb. In many, her hands were outstretched, reaching, her expression urgent and pleading. Kael walked on, careful not to touch any of them.
Kylian winced. "Shit, Kael--"
"Quiet," Kael snapped, and kept moving. He walked faster now, his footsteps echoing on the polished floors. By the time he got to the door at the end of the hall, he was running, and instead of knocking, he shoved the door open. Immediately, the dampening wards on the wall gave way to the immense power of the Sunwell in all its glory, raw and unforged. Kael looked towards the man sitting at the edge of it, wearing lounging robes. He was staring into it, the flickering of the red and gold light giving life to green eyes otherwise bereft of spark or emotion. The main's hair was short, as if it had been chopped at by an indifferent barber, and red-gold, and his features were gaunt and chiseled. "Father."
Anasterian Sunstrider, King of Quel'thalas, descendant of Dath'remar, didn't look up. Kael stepped closer, his heart pounding. Anasterian continued to stare at the Sunwell, and Kael could see a sketch, half-finished, sitting by his side, the pencils discarded and forgotten in favour of some memory. Kael didn't need to look to see the subject matter. He knew.
"Father," he said again. "I need to speak to you about something."
"Shelemvor can take care of it," Anasterian whispered. "Go away."
"An'naan, you need to snap out of it," Shelemvor said, moving past Kael and to kneel by his king and close friend, trying to get his attention. Anasterian shrugged him off. "Kael is here, he needs to talk to you."
"Take care of it," Anasterian repeated. "Go away."
Emotion swelled; anger, frustration, a desire to scream. Look at me, Father! Look at me, who I am! Pay attention to me! He forced himself to sound calm. "Father, I want to study in Dalaran. There is little more I can learn in Quel'thalas, and with the war over, Dalaran is a perfectly safe place for me to be." He swallowed. "May I go?"
Anasterian said nothing. Did nothing. Kael watched, his anger being replaced by a sense of helplessness. His father had been like this for years, or so his nurses and tutors had told him. They had raised him in the manner befitting a prince of Quel'thalas and the heir to the Sunstrider Dynasty. He had come here for the first time when he was a child, escorted then as now by Shelemvor and Kylian, the latter at that time had also been a child, flinching at shadows. This place hadn't changed, but grown. He'd visited here more than once since then, and it remained the same, as did the response.
"An'naan, please," Shelemvor said. "Kael is trying to tell you--"
"Do I need to sign something?" Anasterian mumbled. Kael flinched.
"No," he replied, and the anger returned. "No, you don't need to do anything." He turned to go, but his father moved. For a moment, he hoped. Instead, his father reached for the sketchbook, and stroked his fingers along the sketch's cheek. "She's dead, Father. She's been dead for a long time."
"It's not right for the living to love the dead like this," Shelemvor interjected. "An'naan, you need to move on, before--"
His father looked up at him -- no, past him, as if seeing someone else where he was -- and whispered something, a name. Kael's expression twisted in rage and he turned on heel, storming off back the way he came. Kylian quickly followed, while Shelemvor put his arms around his friend and King. Anasterian leaned into his shoulder and murmured the name again.
"Aindemalda…"
~ * ~
"Why's everything so purple? Are you trying to get caught?"
Antonidas, Archmage of Dalaran and leader of the Kirin Tor, chuckled. The girl at his side scowled up at him, her blue-eyed gaze belligerent and she tucked a stray lock of blonde hair behind one ear. "I don't mean to laugh, child… but caught by what?"
"Pirates, of course," the girl said. He chuckled again, and she looked angry. "Don't laugh at pirates, they're fierce and scarier than your big purple city."
"I'm not laughing at pirates," Antonidas said gently. "Jaina, look around you, tell me what you see."
"A giant purple city."
"No, look around you. Tell me what you see."
The girl -- Jaina -- sighed and did. He watched the way her eyes took in other things, not the city, but the waters of Lordamere lake that twinkled in the pale sunlight, the bridge that had taken them from the surrounding countryside to Violet Cross island itself, the site of Dalaran proper, home of the Kirin Tor. She scanned the coastline. "The water ends."
"It does, yes."
"This isn't an ocean, it's too small, it's…" Her brow wrinkled briefly. "A lake?"
"Good," Antonidas said. "We're not in Kul Tiras any more, we're on the mainland, and very far in. There's a lake here, but there's no banditry, no pirates. We are safe."
"Do you sail?" Jaina asked, looking up on him. Antonidas smiled.
"No, I can't say that I do," Antonidas said. "I was born in Dalaran, and studied here until I grew up. Sailing wasn't very interesting to me."
Jaina looked offended by the very notion. "Maybe I'll be the first pirate on the lake. How would you like that?"
"I would like it much more if you would agree to devote yourself to magical studies, as you promised," Antonidas said gently, and the girl looked away, a stubborn hint to her jaw. At ten, Jaina was more willful than a roomful of mage apprentices, and Antonidas believed sincerely if she focused that determination on something, it would see her through to the very end. If only she weren't so afraid of herself. "Come, Jaina. We're going to get you settled in."
She nodded briefly. Antonidas had wanted her to see the whole of the city before she became too busy to see it. The girl walked along side him, bold as you please, glaring at anyone who eyed her odd dress: she wore her best clothes, which for the Tirans meant a navy-blue jacket and matching pants. Beneath the jacket was a stark-white blouse, high collared though it didn't appear to be itchy. If it was, Jaina had never complained, never fussed or scratched. On the breast pocket and right sleeve of her jacket were matching silver anchors, and her last name, picked out in Tiran aqua: Proudmoore. It seemed to Antonidas to be more a naval uniform than something a child should wear, but Grand-Admiral Daelin Proudmoore and his wife, Lady Adriana, assured him that this was what all Tirans wore for particularly formal occasions, unless they preferred skirts, and of course, only Proudmoores bore their family crest.
I should bring her to the dormitory with the other students, but… Jaina was still a handful of years from being their age peer, and so lay the complication of Jaina's admittance into Dalaran:
Most mages were wizards. This designation was an old one, and oddly owed to the Arathi. The ancient human tribes had not known magic, not until Dath'remar Sunstrider and the High Elves had taught one hundred humans magic in the hopes that they would help them in their battle against the trolls. The tribesmen had called the elves 'wizards' in fear and ignorance, but the Dalarani took it as a badge of honour. A wizard was a person taught how to wield magic. In response to accusations that 'anyone' could be a wizard, many mages before him had challenged the speaker to learn, only to have them turn away in confusion and disgust. Not anyone could be a wizard. The potential was not the problem, but instead in ability. Concentration, discipline, a scholarly attitude. Once one had decided, a decade or more of study was necessary to become one. The great scholars of Dalaran were valuable, and when one didn't become a wizard, one could surely become another kind of scholar, one that would serve Dalaran and the Alliance well.
There existed a subset of mages, however, that were sorcerers. Some people, mostly humans, were born with magic, its potential shimmering just beneath the surface. It would emerge sporadically when control failed. Sometimes these results were disastrous, other times merely frustrating. Some died young, others gained a half-understanding of their power and went on to use it for various purposes. The Kirin Tor, when possible, identified such individuals and trained them as soon as they could. Rarely, tragically, the Kirin Tor were forced to drain off and seal the power of such individuals. It was not a decision they took lightly, and Antonidas regretted mentioning it to Jaina.
I don't want this 'gift'! Jaina had told him. Take it away, make it stop!
As Antonidas guided the girl through the city, he sighed. I am a mage by study, and it was something I always wanted. To want to throw away such a gift… He hoped that Jaina would come to accept her power quickly and begin to train. He -- and her father -- had convinced her to give it a chance, and Jaina had, but Antonidas worried that the same stubbornness that made him believe Jaina would be a good mage would also prevent her from learning how to use it in the first place. You're only a child, girl. There's so much more for you to do than be a mere buccaneer.
Jaina's family ruled Kul Tiras, and had done so since the nation's creation, which from the stories, had been founded after Rhiannon Proudmoore had either recruited or killed the various and sundry pirate captains and demanded the fealty of the survivors. She had chosen an island -- Kul Tiras -- as her own, and everyone else was expected to fall in line. How they had managed for some three thousand odd years to rise from being a ridiculous ten copper adventure novel to the most powerful naval force in Azeroth, Antonidas didn't quite know, but they'd bred something into their children: a love of adventure, a desire to buck the norm, and of course, a sheer level of determination that kept Proudmoores throwing themselves at an ocean that by all reports was as hostile as a horde of ravening orcs generation after generation.
Jaina's apparent great ambition was to be a pirate queen, to sail the seas, helping people, looking for treasure, and going on adventures. Her gift had set her apart from her peers, making her Other, but despite Jaina's attitude otherwise, Antonidas suspected that her desire to use her power, whether it be that to sail or that to cast spells, to help others would make her a fine mage... if only she had the right motivation to do so.
I will find it, Antonidas thought. I will inspire this child, and then she will become a mage like no other. At the moment, Jaina was studying Dalaran's wide, open walkways and the people in them. Most of those who lived in Dalaran were mages, though many of them kept to themselves. There was a smaller, but significant number of people who lived here and had no magical ability at all. Often, these people were the spouses, children, and other relatives of mages, or descendants of those who had come to Dalaran with the exiled wizards of the Arathi. These people bustled through the streets, buying books, looking at produce, gossiping or simply being. "Have you seen the like?"
"Tandred used to take me to the market when I was little," Jaina replied. "It was like this, but different too. When the ships come in, they bring things from all over the world. Fish, fruit, cloth... everything."
"When you were little, eh?" Antonidas asked, and Jaina looked up at him, her gaze remarkably stern. Antonidas patted her shoulder briefly and they moved on, past the small parks and gardens, sculpted and created to be aesthetically pleasing and perfect. Jaina wrinkled her nose. "What's wrong?"
"They don't look real," Jaina objected. "Where's the scrub? Where're the weeds?"
"We don't have them," Antonidas said, frowning. "Why would you want them?"
"My grandmother says that nothing is perfect, and if it is, you have to jab it real hard to find the imperfect part."
Insightful, and yet horrifying, Antonidas thought, making sure that Jaina didn't jab anything. "Grand Admiral Amelia is, as always, extremely insightful. However in this case, people wish for nice gardens to look at without needing to worry about who tends to them."
"Why not have a rock garden?"
"We do have rock gardens, though not here. Do you like rock gardens more than other types of garden?"
"Not really," Jaina said, after a moment's thought. "But you don't weed a rock garden."
"Indeed, it would be a weedless endeavour." Antonidas smiled to himself, but was startled by Jaina. She was laughing. There was a bright sparkle to the girl's eyes, and her laughter attracted attention. He felt, all of a sudden, greatly accomplished. "Come, let's get you to the Citadel."
The rest of the trip was no less eventful. Jaina had plenty of questions, and she didn't seem shy about asking them. Antonidas found this quite pleasant, particularly because Jaina never asked the same kind of question twice, and it was never one with an obvious answer... at least, not when one was ten and had grown up on an island. Antonidas spoke briefly to one of the clerks, asking for a runner to be sent to Kelnar Goldensword at the dormitories for advice regarding their newest student.
"In the mean time, you can stay in my sitting room," Antonidas said, gesturing Jaina inside. "It's only temporary, until we can find you a proper room of your own. There should be room... just wait patiently." He gestured to a doorway. "There is the bathroom, should you feel the need to relieve yourself or require some water. There's a cup. I would ask you not to go through my things, some of what I have is rather delicate."
Jaina nodded, and sat down on one of the couches. Antonidas smiled at her, and turned to go. Immediately, a half-dozen messages, lurking in the shadows, sprang at him as different voices spoke to him. One of them said something about a prince coming to visit. He sighed, and looked over at his charge. I will be right back. This won't take long.
~ * ~
It only took Jaina five minutes to be bored, and another five to get up and look around. She poked everything, though most of what she found was books, and not the exploding kind, either. Well, that's boring, isn't it?
As the archmage's words drifted back to her, she considered immediately and willfully disobeying him, but her brother Tandred's words held her back.
Sunfish, it's fine to refuse to dance to someone else's tune, he'd said. There are plenty of rules that can stand a little bending from time to time... but there are some times when disobeying the rules is silly. You remember Da's instructions for sailing your little boat, don't you?
Of course, she'd replied, offended. Da said they were the most important thing I'd ever learn.
They are, and you could disobey him, if you wanted. You could ignore his instructions -- his rules -- and then what would happen?
I'd get hurt, Jaina said, frowning. I might go to back to the ocean early.
You might, Tandred agreed. He stopped tuning his guitar and met his sister's gaze seriously. Some rules are important, Sunfish. You have to be a lot older and a lot wiser to figure out which ones should be broken. Until then, sometimes it's smart to listen to the instructions of others.
She'd nodded then, and she nodded now. Maybe something out there will explode. That'd be bad, we'd sink the big, purple citadel and no one's close enough for rescue. So, it was the books, then. She sorted through them, opening them up to random pages and reading. Some of them were filled with shapes and lines, others with pictures, and still others with lots of words. She leaned in close, reading:
Then Aegwynn took the body of the fallen Titan's avatar and placed it on an island she raised from the sea. In this tomb she sealed Sargeras' corpse, protecting the world from the dread daemonlord. Jaina's eyes widened. Adventure! She smiled, and flipped quickly to the beginning of the book. She propped the book on one of the couches, and lay on her stomach. Well, why didn't anyone tell me that mages did exciting things?
~ * ~
"I beg your pardon," Antonidas said, and Kael counted to three, taking in a breath even as he appeared outwardly calm.
"I wish to enroll as a student," the elven prince repeated. "While I feel that I have mastered my advanced studies in Quel'thalas, I wish to have the full experience of Dalaran, which is why I'd like to become a student."
"Where do you wish to begin?"
"At the beginning," Kael said firmly. He glared at Kylian, who was snickering, and then looked back at Antonidas. "I expect that I will advance extremely quickly through the lowest levels, and experience the advanced classes in a matter of months, but I still feel the fundamentals are extremely important. Of course, if there isn't room..."
"We've actually just received a new student, so there will be two of you," Antonidas said, and a smile tugged at the elderly human's mouth. Kael frowned. "Though your circumstances are extremely different."
"I see," Kael said. "Do you require any further information from me?"
"No, I believe we can draw up a schedule. Most of our students are fairly young, so they stay in a dormitory. I don't believe that will be required of you. Also, the quarters will be more private."
Kael opened his mouth to object, but the notion of privacy was too tempting to resist. He nodded.
"Will your... friend be joining you?"
"Not for classes," Kylian said. "I might look into something more advanced, but I personally just plan to slack off and look at the window dressing."
"I will strangle you in your sleep," Kael muttered under his breath. Kylian grinned.
"You adore me."
"I will arrange separate rooms for you, then," Antonidas said. "If you'll both excuse me, I have other matters to attend to."
Kael nodded once. "Of course, we understand." The Archmage nodded in return and departed. Kael looked to Kylian. "You could make an effort, you know."
"Effort is for chumps."
"Excuse me?" Both Quel'dorei turned to look at the speaker. A fellow Quel'dorei, this woman was slender and blonde, and her anxious, blue gaze darted about. "I was told Archmage Antonidas was here, where has he gone?"
"He said he had to look into other affairs," Kael said. "Magistrix..."
"Goldensword," the woman replied. "Kelnar Goldensword. I was to speak to him about a new student."
"Well, I'm a new student," Kael said. "Did he say who?"
"Oh, I know who the new student is, and I'm afraid you aren't her," Kelnar said. "For one thing, she's a human girl, and she... well, I'll try to find him. Welcome to Dalaran, Your Highness." She bowed deeply and then hurried off. Kael's forehead wrinkled in a frown.
"I was supposed to be incognito."
"I told you that you should have used the fake mustache, but no. 'It's ridiculous, Kylian,' you said. 'Facial hair is gross,' you said."
"I did not."
"You so did."
"I so didn't." Kael made a face at his second, but his heart lightened. He was feeling better already.
~ * ~
It's like trying to herd cats, Antonidas said, rubbing at his temples. One is gone for a mere half-day, no, less than four hours, and one would think that the city is collapsing. Ridiculous.
"Archmage--"
"Can it not wait?" Antonidas asked sharply, not bothering to look. "I have a matter that's very important to attend to, and I don't have time for--"
"You called me, Archmage." The tone of voice made Antonidas turn, and his eyes widened. "There you are."
"I apologize, Kelnar, it's been a long day. She's in here. It's been... by the seven theorems, it's been three hours. I told her I'd be right back." Antonidas beckoned Kelnar inside, and hastened towards his sitting room. "She must be worried--"
Jaina was curled up on one of the couches, sound asleep. Her head was pillowed on one of his books, and even as he feared for its spine, he was curious what she had picked. Kelnar stepped past him and knelt down. She put a gentle hand on Jaina's back. "Wake up, Sunfish."
"Mmmgh," Jaina said, stretching. "Hi, Kelnar. Is Finn here too?"
"She's at home, she wanted to make sure your room would be just right," Kelnar said, smiling a little. "It looks like you made a friend."
Jaina's eyes lit up. "There's a Guardian, Kelnar, and her name is Aegwynn, and she fought against demons and evil sorcerers and flew with dragons. She's a hero, and I want to be just like her! Can I?"
Matriarch Aegwynn? Antonidas thought warily. Mother of Medivh Aran, the great traitor? A woman who was so stubborn, so willful that she refused to pass on the Guardian's gift for nine hundred years? Why would--
"If you work very hard at becoming a mage, you can be whomever you want to be," Kelnar said. "But first, we need to return this, and get you to bed. Mages need sleep."
Jaina looked to Antonidas, and there it was. The answer to his need from earlier. It was the inspiration Jaina needed to tap into her true potential... and it lay with a book. He smiled. "No, Kelnar. She can keep it until she's finished."
Jaina's smile warmed the heart and the soul. It was time to learn.
Feb 2nd