Chapter 8: Starships
He was getting distracted.
Anduin had been in the library every day for over a month, pouring over some of the oldest tomes they housed. Books about the War of the Ancients written in old Darnassian, Thalassian, Common and even a tome in Draconic. The basic tale of all these books were the same, but the demons lay in the details, and there was a very specific detail he was looking for.
His eyes flickered out the library window again, looking out into the large courtyard. He could see groups of noblemen and women, as well as groups of citizens on their days off, all milling around enjoying a rare day of sunshine in an otherwise dreary season. Perhaps on a normal day he would have enjoyed it, sneaking out to a small cave nearby that he liked to spend time in when he needed to get out of the castle for a few hours.
But it wasn't a normal day. It had been over a month since the attack on Westfall and they were still no closer to determining who had orchestrated the attack, why they had attacked, or even how they had managed to pull it off. His father spent his time in meetings and each day he left them looking more frustrated than the day before. Anduin knew that they weren't getting anywhere.
He glanced down at the book, his eyes finding the strange passage in old Darnassian that he was having troubles with. While he spoke and wrote in fluent Darnassian, the language in this book was thousands of years old, and it had been giving him a headache for days now.
A flash of red caught his eye and once again he found himself peeking out. His eyes quickly found the source of his disruption and he swallowed.
Miss Fairchild had been coming to the courtyard every day for just about a month now, practicing with a sword at the dummies for hours. She never spoke to anybody, nor did anything else. He ideally wondered if she had taken his advice and continued her training, but he never say anyone training her - just her, alone, with a sword.
And he found himself watching her constantly. She was quite impressive - she wasn't particularly short, but she was thin, and almost fragile looking. It seemed ludicrously impossible that she should be able to wield such a large two handed weapon. Yet she seemed very comfortable with it, if not a bit out of practice.
He shook his head, clearing his throat. He needed to focus.
He looked down at the book and continued to read.
'...when the invasion forces became too numerable to count, our leaders had to make the most horrible of decisions, to stop the ships they closed the city off to the sea and the eyes of Elune...'
He frowned. There was a word in the passage that didn't make much sense to him. Kalshasil. The translator had written that the word most likely meant 'boat', but Anduin was uncertain, he'd never seen the word anywhere else before.
He gathered up the book, feeling determined. He knew that something was there, it was on the tip of his tongue.
He wandered out of the library, scouring the courtyard as he searched for someone in particular. Finally he spotted her, standing in the shade of a large apple tree and reading a long scroll.
He wandered over to her, "You're up late."
The night elf looked up at him with her large glowing eyes. Her impossibly long hair was braided long and the red markings on her face made her look terribly angry with everyone around her. Once she recognized him she climbed to her feet, standing at least a foot over his head.
"Prince Anduin." She tilted her head, "How nice to see you again."
"You as well Emissary Jademoon." He nodded back politely, before lifting his book, "I was hoping you might be able to help with a translation."
"Certainly." Jademoon was one of only a handful of Night Elves who lived in Stormwind, and as such she was no doubt used to his constant questions. She had been of great help when he had been learning the language.
He opened the book, quickly pointing out the word for her to read, "The translator suggests it means boat."
Jademoon tilted her head, "The author is partially correct. 'Shasil' is a very old word for a water vessel. A boat or a ship. It's easy to see how he would have been confused."
Anduin blinked, looking between her and the text as he felt his insides jump. He could feel nervous excitement start to build up inside of him. This was it...he'd finally found something.
"I...thank you!" Anduin beamed at her, closing the book and moving to leave, "You've been very helpful, thank you!"
He rushed off, leaving an amused Jademoon in his wake as he ran back to the library, looking at the papers.
It made sense to him now. The translator had assumed the word simply meant boat because of the reference to blocking he seas. But he'd ignored the rest of the sentence...
He gathered up his papers, including the book with the image he'd discovered with Miss Fairchild. He finally felt like he had enough to bring this to his father. An image in a book mixed with a first hand account. There was no way he could dismiss this!
He ran out of the library and down the halls, barely watching where he was going. His father should be out of his daily meetings by now, and would o doubt be resting in his private quarters.
Anduin was so embroiled in his private thoughts that he didn't see the man coming down the corridor, until they collided.
His books went scattering across the floors and Anduin blushed at his own absentminded excitement, "Oh I'm so sorry! I wasn't watching where I was going."
"No, it's my fault your highness."
Anduin blinked as he got a good look at the man, recognizing the salt and pepper visage of Captain Stoutmantle, "Captain! Does this mean my father's out of his meetings then."
The Captan chuckled, reaching down to help him pick up his papers, "Yes. His Majesty's quite free now Your Highness. I believe he said he was going to retire early tonight."
Anduin inwardly rolled his eyes. Yes if 'retiring' meant he was going to start drinking early and spend the rest of the night boiling over letters in his office. "Ah, yes. Have you and he finally worked out a plan for Westfall then?"
The Captain seemed a bit uncomfortable, but nodded, "For the most part yes. The King is planning on buying out the damage farmland from the owners and turning most of it into military posts. I believe he plans on working with Druids and Shamans to try and restore the rest of it back to its former glory."
"Is it that bad?" Anduin asked. He hadn't seen the state of Westfall since the attack, but he couldn't imagine it was any good.
The Captain looked pained, "The demons poisoned the earth, as if it wasn't already hard enough to farm. I doubt the land will be arable for years. It was hard to come to a decision like this, but the Crown has promised they will return the land to the families who lived there once the area is secured."
There was a hint of warning in his voice, and Anduin had no doubt that the Captain would fight to make sure they held up their end of the deal. But Anduin wasn't worried, he knew his father wasn't one for making shady dealings.
"And they will be." Anduin promised.
The Captain grunted, handing him the last of his papers and Anduin could see how deeply upset the man was by the news. Anduin could understand why, Westfall had been home to many people. Even now there were groups who had refused to leave when the province had been evacuated.
Once again he found his mind going back to Miss Fairchild. He remembered seeing her for the first time in the refugee camp in Goldshire, covered in dirt and mud and demon blood. Hadn't the Captain mentioned she was a farmer? He imagined she'd be crushed by the news.
Anduin looked up at Stoutmantle, hesitating a moment as he wondered if his question was proper. But his curiosity was too strong., "Can I ask you about Miss Fairchild?"
The Captain startled, "Addy? What about her?"
Anduin was surprised at the fierce protective tone of the man, but maintained his composure. "I had the chance to speak with her a few weeks ago, and I was wondering if she has decided to continue her training or not."
The Captain didn't respond right away. His eyes narrowed at the Prince, as if searching for some nefarious intention.
Anduin quickly continued, "I've seen her training almost every day." He explained.
The Captain relaxed somewhat, but it was obvious he cared about her, "It's her way of coping, I think. But no, I do not believe she will continue her training."
Anduin frowned, "Well it might not be my place, but I was hoping you might convince her to. She's very strong with the light, it comes to her naturally. She'd make a magnificent Paladin."
There was a sad look on the Captains face and Anduin realized that the old man had come to the same conclusion. He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, "Unfortunately I've taught her all I know, Your Highness. I'm no teacher, and if Addy wants to continue her training she's going to need a proper instructor."
"I'm sure that could be arranged." Anduin explained, "Stormwind is full of trainers, I'm sure it wouldn't take much effort to find one willing to take on another student."
The Captain was silent, and Anduin could see him debating with himself over something. Eventually the man looked down and leaned in slightly, speaking quietly.
"I'm sorry Your Highness, but Addy simply cannot afford a trainer. Hell, the girl could barely afford to eat most days."
Anduin blinked, staring at the man in surprise. In all honesty the thought that she couldn't afford training hadn't even occurred to him. But now that he thought about it, he had been rather short sighted. She'd come from Westfall, the poorest of all Alliance lands. He remembered when he'd seen her, and how thin she'd looked. He suddenly felt like a fool. He prayed that he hadn't come across as poorly as he feared.
But as much as money was an issue for her, it was an issue that could be easily resolved.
"What if I found a way for her to afford it." He suggested.
To his surprise, the Captain snorted, "Good luck with that Your Highness. That girl's the most damned stubborn fool I've ever met. Her pride's the size of Thandol Span. I doubt she'll accept anything you give her."
Anduin frowned. He hardly wanted to force her to accept a gift. But if money was her only obstacle then he wanted to help.
A thought appeared in the back of his mind. A way for him to give her enough money to afford her training, without actually giving her the money directly. If he did it properly, then she would never need to know...
But now was not the time for such things. He had to speak with his father.
He said his farewells to the Marshall and push thoughts of Miss Fairchild to the back of his mind. Right now he needed to focus on the task at hand, later he could think about the young paladin.
He walked up to the large oak doors to his fathers private quarters, nodding politely to the guards standing on either side of the door. They both bowed in unison, before moving back into an upright position, staring straight ahead blankly. He pushed past them, walking comfortably into his father's room.
"Father?" He called out, looking around. His fathers bedroom wasn't very lavish beyond what the builders had crafted. The stone walls were bare, and the furniture relatively ascetic. His bed was covered in thick furs and there was a roaring fireplace against one of the walls.
"In here."
Anduin walk over to the far wall, going through a door into a private study. A desk was pressed up against a wall, covered in parchments and scrolls and messy maps. His father was reading a letter with a pinched look on his face.
"What do you make of this?" His father handed him the letter, looking annoyed.
Anduin shifted the books in his arms so he could reach forward to grab it. He quickly scanned the letter and felt his own annoyance rise.
"Draenor?" Anduin set his books down in his fathers desk, "What on Earth do they need more troops for?"
"Apparently Frostwall has been showing signs of 'aggression'." His father shook his head, "They're the Horde, they're always showing signs of aggression."
Anduin could understand his father's frustration. They had been in a state of relative peace with the Horde for some time now. A tentative peace, perhaps, but a peace nonetheless. Any signs of aggression from either side could very easily result in that peace being broken.
Anduin offered his opinion, "Tensions are still high on Draenor, and Frostwall is a military garrison. Any movement they make might be construed as aggressive, despite how they were intended. And sending more men to Lunarfall, in what's supposed to be a peaceful situation, could very well be seen as aggressive by the Horde."
His father's face softened, watching Anduin with a strange look on his face he couldn't quite place. After a few moment he smiled, nodding, "I agree."
Anduin felt a burst of pride in his chest at his father's praise, as mild as it was. For a moment he almost forgot why he'd come in the first place.
Almost.
"I think I found something about the ship." Anduin shifted awkwardly to pull out the book he'd borrowed from the Cathedral, "I thought it sounded familiar and I found this picture in a book on Ancient Kaldorei art forms. Addy confirmed that it matched the one she saw in Westfall."
His father raised a eyebrow, "Addy?"
Anduin flushed red as he realized his mistake, "Er- Miss Fairchild. The one who reported the ship at the meeting."
Once again his Fathers face shifted into something Anduin didn't recognize, but whatever he was thinking he didn't comment, instead reached for the book Anduin handed him. He flipped it open to the page he had marked and looked at the picture with a frown.
"Do you know when this is from?" He asked.
Anduin shook his head, "The painting itself is a replica of an even earlier painting. I can't be certain, but I figured the War of the Ancients is a fair guess. Which is why that's where I started doing my research and eventually I found this."
He pulled the second book and handed it to his father. His father took it and scanned the page, both of his eyebrows vanishing into his hairline.
"Light. You can read this?" He asked.
"Sort of." Anduin shrugged, "I had help, but that's not the point. This whole section here deals with an Ancient Kaldorei city which, when under attack by the Legion, shielded themselves to help stave off attacks from the Legion's shasil, their ships."
"Alright." His father nodded, "But that could very easily mean sea vessels."
"Yes, but the word they used in the writing wasn't Shasil, it was Kalshasil." Anduin paused, holding his hands out. But his father just looked confused, "Alright, Shasil is sort of a...slang word, for ship. It's regional, and isn't actually used nowadays. The translator of the book knew that, but he assumed the full 'Kalshasil' simply meant ship, but it doesn't."
His father seemed to understand for a moment, "Kal...as in Kaldorei."
"And Kalimdor." Anduin nodded, "Stars...A Ship of Stars."
His father sucked in a breath, looking at the book with worried eyes. "Did you find any mention of these ships in any other periods of time. Any other races?"
"Not that I could tell." Anduin shook his head, "There might be some information from the Trolls, but there isn't exactly an overabundance of Troll works in the library's collection."
The King chuckled lightly, but looked at the book grievously. Anduin cool see the stress in his shoulders and the growing lines on his face and they worried him more than he would admit.
"It doesn't mean anything." Anduin tried to look optimistic for his Father, "Maybe it's a relic? Some warlocks found it from the War of the Ancients and repurposed it. It's only one ship, and the book mentions half a dozen attacking the city..."
Anduin trailed off at the look on his fathers face. A grimace as he tried to avoid his sons eyes.
"What is it?" Anduin swallowed the lump in his throat.
His father rubbed his hand over his face, walking back over to his desk and trifled through the papers until he pulled out a scroll with a red wax seal. Anduin was nervous as his father handed it over to him.
He opened it and read the words on it quickly, his eyes widening in horror.
"There was another attack." His Father repeated what the scroll said, "In Azshara, near Orgrimmar. And there was a ship."
Anduin swallowed, closing the scroll, "What's the chance it was the same ship?"
"That report comes from Mathias himself." His father took the scroll back, placing it on his desk, "And as far as we can tell, the attacks happened simultaneously."
Anduin felt the blood drain from his face. An attack right near the capitals of both the Horde and the Alliance, at the same time? On two separate continents? This whole thing was getting much larger than either of them expected.
"We shouldn't jump to conclusions yet." Varian gave him a weak smile, clapping his hand onto his shoulder, "Mathias suspects that it's likely the culprits wanted each side to think they were being attacked by the other. Luckily it seems cooler heads prevailed."
"They almost didn't." Anduin pointed out, "Both Genn and Aunt Jaina jumped at the attack. If someone is trying to start a war-"
"I know." HIs father sighed, looking tired, "I'll speak to them. They may hate the Horde, but neither of them would take kindly to being played as pawns."
Anduin watched as his father poured himself a whiskey and for the first time wished that he drank. He could feel the stress of the situation drilling into his bones and a headache forming above his brow, "We should open a channel with Vol'jin." He father pullded a face and Anduin rolled his eyes, "Father, if someone is trying to create a rift, then communication is going to be key."
"You're right." His father grunted, looking like he'd smelled something terrible. "I'll make sure they know about our attack, if their spies haven't informed them already."
His father looked at him, his eyes swimming with such affection that Anduin felt like he had to look away.
"When did you get so good at this?"
Anduin chuckled, "I've always been good at this. You've just gotten better at listening."
Varian chuckled, cuffing his head lightly, "Cheeky brat." Anduin smiled as his father tossed his arm around him, giving him a tight half hug. Over the last few years they'd become closer than they ever had been. Gone were the angry fights and tense dinners of his teenage years. For the first time since he'd been a child he finally felt like he had a good, carefree relationship with his father.
"So what now?" Anduin asked, the moment passing momentarily, "Do we know anything else?"
"We know it's not the Horde." His father spoke, "Nor any known Warlock cults, however that still leaves unknown warlock cults, or Horde cults. Some have suggest the remnants of the Iron Horde or the so-called 'True' Horde."
Anduin shook his head, "We need to speak with Vol'jin. They might know something we don't."
Varian nodded, looking pensive. Finally after a few moments of thought he obviously came to a conclusion.
"I'll write a letter, have Shaw get it to him. And in the meantime, I think I'll take a little trip."
"A trip?" Anduin blinked, "Where?"
"I don't want to cause a panic where none exists." His father moved to his desk flipping through the papers, until he found a spare piece of parchment and the blue Alliance seal, "But we need to investigate this ship. The Horde might know something, but we can't wait for their response, and if it is the legion..." He trailed off.
Anduin swallowed. He didn't even want to think about that.
His father sighed, "I'm going to go to Darnassas, speak with Tyrande. If anyone knows anything about the War of the Ancients, it'll be someone who was there."
A/N: If I ever told you how much I cry over Varian and Anduin's relationship I'd have to go into hiding.
Good news! I'm back in the country, so hopefully I'll be able to actually write some more. Also I'm hoping to work through 7.2 and eventually get ahold of that delicious Anduin cinematic (my small boy's all grown up).
Thank you so much for everyone's kind reviews. Sorry I'm kind of terrible at responding, but seriously you guys are the best and maybe I'll get better at it because I'm a travesty right now. But you guys are stars!
Until Next Time,
-Ash
