Archmage Modera tapped her fingers on her staff as her afternoon class finished. These were some of the newer apprentices and only half of them could form a decent fireball. They'd shape up though. They had little choice. There would be another conflict, there always was, but this time... This time that ephemeral sixth sense was annoying her fiercely. She'd hoped it would have disappeared when Garrosh had been brought down but it hadn't. Then she'd expected it to go away once he'd been put on trial, but it had remained in the back of her head, quietly roiling and setting her on edge. And then Garrosh escaped and still she felt like she needed to keep looking over her shoulder. After the initial invasion forces from the portal had been turned back, she'd hoped the feeling would finally go away. It hadn't. Modera huffed out a breath.
Khadgar's expedition into the other Draenor was a remote conflict for now with spotty contact at best. They were only a few days into whatever mess they'd walked into. Modera imagined the Kirin Tor would be involved more directly once Archmages Khadgar and Archmage Zaliya, the Alliance champion chosen to accompany him, and the rest of the expedition established a beachhead. She tried to put her unease aside and focus on what she could see now.
"Okay you lot, that's enough for today," she called. The class sighed gratefully and dispersed. Modera watched them all shuffle out, taking note of who still had energy and who did not. Her mind had not been on the class, nor had it been entirely on the foreboding she felt or the alternate Draenor and her imminent tasks there. Modera had also been ruminating on the confrontation she'd heard that Proudmoore had with Finch over Kalecgos taking up duties around the city.
Supposedly the dragon had started this morning. She'd had four mages in her office before noon to protest the "security breach". Finch had lodged a protest the previous day but it had been withdrawn after he'd spoken with Proudmoore. She'd gotten to hear an ear full from the archmage twice, once before the meeting and once after. He'd been a bit more resigned to the prospect in the second meeting.
Modera tapped her fingers against her staff again then pushed away from the wall. A proper stalk through the hallways sent the apprentices scattering and cleared the way. Truthfully she wasn't on the warpath, but it really was a damn useful tool when trying to get around sometimes.
The mages of Dalaran had seen a lot in her lifetime, so she wasn't surprised they were somewhat jumpy about another change in the routine. The Nexus War, the Cataclysm, the conflict on Thunder Isle and all of the shit Garrosh Hellscream had brought to the world; the theft of the Divine Bell and the purge of Horde mages. And these were only the most recent incidents! Before then it had been Arthas and the fall of Lordaeron and the Second War. She'd been such a youngster then. Modera shook her head, dismissing her woolgathering.
As much as she agreed there were sincere and serious security concerns with the Sunreavers, Modera was beginning to feel the loss of the magepower in the city was a potential weakness. Internal fighting- more internal infighting and arguments were a liability when they were already vulnerable. Her Arcane senses told her something was still on the horizon and she'd learned the hard way to listen to it.
Modera quickly made her way through the city, leaving the training areas and heading for the top of the Violet Citadel. She tried to looked less "scary" and more "determined" as she walked through the streets. While a scowl was good to make the apprentices scatter, she realized she didn't want to potentially add to the idea that there was internal division. At least not to the general public. Modera wanted to speak to Proudmoore, not start more rumors.
She liked Archmage Proudmoore, she really did. The younger woman was smart, competent and one hell of a city leader. She'd liked Rhonin quite well, but Modera had to admit she liked Jaina's leadership style better in some ways. Not the part where she might disappear for a tryst with her lover, but that she expected the others to take up actual management tasks related to the day to day running of the city. With the other council members (finally) pulling their fair share, Proudmoore could have some blasted personal time so she didn't need to sneak off to bed the dragon, pretty as his humanoid form might have been.
Kalecgos was another story. Modera did not have enough information to decide if she liked him or not yet. That he could admit he could not properly care for the Focusing Iris was a point in his favor. That he had spoken against Malygos was another. That he was willing to step in and pick up some of the slack left by Khadgar's departure and Jaina's recovery didn't hurt either. But he was a dragon and a blue dragon at that.
Modera had lost lifelong friends to Malygos's war; men and women who'd lived through everything else Azeroth had thrown at them. And a few, a very few, had sided with the mad Aspect in exchange for promised access to magic. She'd had to kill some of those people. A few were held in the Hold. The ones who lived were friends no longer.
The blue dragons she'd interfaced with during the Cataclysm had been full of themselves. Proud and haughty creatures, almost to a dragon. And while they were undeniably powerful, they were far too fancy in their spellcasting for Modera's taste. They seemed to miss very basic things for beings who supposedly wished to control and monitor the magic in the world, and who complained about the excesses of the "lesser" races.
Few had shown remorse for the war. Or at least, less remorse than she would have preferred. And despite how their new Aspect acted, the largely isolationist blue dragons had shown little but disdain for the champions who'd put their lives on the line to defeat Deathwing. Perhaps it was uncharitable, but if she'd been Aspect, she'd have knocked some heads together rather than have her people insult allies. Maybe that was another reason why she was having a hard time with him.
Kalecgos was also a distraction to Proudmoore. Modera didn't know what the dragon wanted from Jaina, but Modera was sure it was something. Jaina had lost everything and was in a vulnerable place, so Modera had kept an eye out on his comings and goings. Jaina had done a lot to care for the people in her charge, throwing herself into Dalaran's management (sneaking off to mount the dragon aside), and adopting the city as hers once more. Someone needed to keep an eye out for her.
A quick check into Proudmoore's office revealed she was gone for the day according to the apprentice assigned to play secretary. Proudmoore was always an early riser but given everything that had happened, Modera wasn't surprised she'd already retired. Well, a walk all the way up the steps had been good for her anyway. Modera thanked the apprentice and made the short trek to where Jaina lived.
The distance Jaina and Kalecgos had put between one another prior to the expedition to Pandaria had been a relief to Modera. She'd been quite pleased when Proudmoore hadn't called him in to support their efforts on Thunder Isle - even if the additional firepower would have been nice.
The flap of great wings, the flash of blue scales, or a winged shadow from above still sometimes brought a thrill of fear when she wasn't expecting it. Archmage Zaliya was bad enough since she could use that blasted staff of hers to wear the appearance of a dragon. The damned winged mounts they'd picked up on Thunder Isle hadn't helped either.
Modera ascended to the archmage's landing in her residence tower. Jaina had been given large quarters as befitted her station and rank within the Kirin Tor, but Modera had only been there once before. She pressed the crystal at the door, breaking the magical circuit and causing a small musical chime to announce her presence. There was enough of a pause Modera had the brief thought perhaps she might be interrupting something she did not wish to see, but then the door opened.
"Modera?" Proudmoore frowned. "Is something wrong?" Her hair was slightly mussed but she had the sleepy look of someone woken from a nap rather than having been ravished.
"Not wrong. Wanted to see if we could have a chat." While Modera was relieved she hadn't walked in on Jaina and her lover, she felt badly for having woken the archmage up; Jaina was far too pale and drawn. Still they needed to talk.
"I see." Jaina stepped aside, expression closing off into diplomatic neutrality.
Modera grimaced. "I'm not here to start a fight."
Jaina relaxed a fraction and gestured for Modera to enter her home. Modera inclined her head and did so, resting her staff on the rack by the door.
What struck Modera most about the apartment was how utterly impersonal it was even a year later. The rooms were not spartan, but everything matched as if it had all been made from the same source. There were few personal touches. Modera had expected to see the accumulated books, items and knick-knacks most mages seemed to acquire. Some of the furniture should have shown more wear and tear than others. The uniformity was noticeable. There was a small ink portrait of Prince Anduin and Jaina in heavy Winter Veil garb, but it was recent and there was something sad about her smile in the picture.
Of course. Everything Jaina had owned had been turned to ash and rubble.
"Tea?" Jaina offered, her eyes still guarded.
"That'd be lovely," Modera said, smiling a little to try to get the other mage to relax as much as to hide the sudden sadness and pity she felt. Everyone knew what had happened to Theramore and to Jaina, but seeing it like this made the tragedy all the more apparent somehow. Modera hadn't thought something like Theramore would be easy to forget, but it was. For her, everyday wasn't a reminder of all that had been lost.
"Do you mind if I brew rather than conjure?" Jaina asked, gesturing for Modera to follow.
"Not at all," Modera said, trailing behind the younger woman. "Still feeling low?"
"Yes, but I prefer the taste brewed." She shook her head. "I've a few pandaren blends I haven't managed to figure the trick of conjuring either."
They ended up in the kitchen. The room was fairly standard as far as apartments in Dalaran went, if a little larger. A cozy looking breakfast nook to one side likely caught the morning light. Here there was a little more personality; a few books stacked to one side for morning reading perhaps. Jars of teas and dried goods were neatly arranged to one side for easy access and showed regular use.
Jaina set a kettle on the small stove to boil then used a spell to start the heating coils. The china she withdrew from a cabinet, though clearly used often, was as impersonal as the other furnishings of the apartment. Modera wondered, with no little alarm, if the archmage's personal library or her lab were in the same state. Even as the thought occurred to her, Modera knew that at least her personal library had to be. Ash, rubble and violet sand.
Taking a seat in the nook, Jaina gestured to the seat across from her. She held herself in the same way Modera had seen in generals and kings in formal settings. While she did not swagger, she never-the-less was still in quietly in charge of this audience. Her eyes were tired but her head was unbowed. In another life, a very different one for them both, she'd have been Modera's queen. Modera found she didn't mind that thought. Modera sat, her own posture far more of a slouch, an intentional slight aimed at relatives and governesses long dead.
"I heard you got into it with Finch over Kalecgos being put into the rotations."
Jaina's expression didn't move fraction. "Kalec has offered to assist in the city tasks and since we gave him the title of Archmage I don't see why we shouldn't expect him to fulfill civic duties as well. I reminded Finch that Kalec was to do things our way in our city and it was his job to teach new Archmages the proper way we did things here." Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly and there was the barest hint of tired dread as she asked, "Why?"
"He submitted a report about a potential security breach. He withdrew it after he spoke with you. I still had four complaints on my desk this morning."
Jaina scowled, grimaced, then took a deep breath in then out, back straightening. The pose was clearly meditative and Modera tilted her head in silent question as the other woman settled.
"If you would, please inform those that have left messages that Kalec was granted the title of archmage by the Council. He is fulfilling his civic duties exactly as all other archmages are and in the same manner." It wasn't a request at all, though it had been phrased as one. Polite. Firm. Expecting it would be followed. Guarded.
"Of course," Modera said, inclining her head. "But it brings up an issue, or rather a related set of issues I have been mulling over." Modera sat back and crossed her legs at the knee, intentionally trying to add a more casual element to the meeting. Proudmoore might have been born to be a queen, but she could be quite informal if one could get her to dismiss the cool diplomatic mask. It was something Rhonin and Jaina shared that Modera liked. Modera wanted to talk to that person, not the formal leader of the Kirin Tor, already on the defense.
Jaina eyed her with suspicion and rose to handle the whistling tea kettle. "Go on."
"We're under strength," Modera said. "I agree we did what we needed to do in regards to the Sunreavers, but it does mean that we're down considerable resources in terms of raw power as well as bodies. Aside from the issue with the Horde, we had losses due to the conflicts and wars before then, too."
Jaina's eyes remained focused on the tea and preparing a small tray, "It isn't just mage power," she said, her voice quiet. "The economy of the city has been impacted as well."
"The economy?"
"Consider that during the campaign to icecrown, as serious as it was, Dalaran became a boomtown."
Modera frowned. It was true. And then they had been a hub of activity again when the blue flight had gone to war. And they were the nearest city to Wyrmrest which had hosted the bulk of the planning against Deathwing. "Is it bad?"
"Not bad but it does have an effect. I've been following the plans Rhonin and the other logistical heads drew up after Icecrown. Ways for us to adjust and step away from wartime preparation and back into normal city operations. They had to ramp up imports again when the Cataclysm hit and the plans were put on hold once more. I didn't need us to be quite so militaristic here when we were in Pandaria so I've been continuing what Rhonin started. However, the sudden shift in population has had an effect. The wartime years lined our pockets but displaced some of the families and other non-combatant citizenry. Until we start building up our civilian population again we'll be a bit empty."
"Fewer people, fewer resources needed, but it sounds like we have the money to make sure things continue to be done."
Jaina nodded and set the tray with two teacups on the table. She'd included a bowl of sugar cubes, a jar of honey, and a pot of creme. "The concern I have is that we won't get the civilian populations back and our depopulation will become noticeable to the point where people avoid moving here. If that happens we'll have problems."
Modera nodded. "Khadgar's trip is likely going to siphon off more mage power like Thunder Isle did."
Jaina nodded. She frowned in thought, something sad in her eyes, but her attention was focused, not listless. That was good.
"Will you be going to join Khadgar?" Modera asked. Proudmoore had acquitted herself well enough on Thunder Isle.
Jaina looked up, apparently surprised out of her internal thoughts. "No," Jaina said, shaking her head. "I might go if I am absolutely needed but this is Khadgar's expedition and I do not think it would be wise for me to continue the hunt for Garrosh."
"Not wise? Archmage, not only are you one of the most powerful mages on the planet, what he did personally to you was-"
"I know!" Jaina snapped. She did the little meditative ritual again. Modera shut up and let her, more out of surprise than anything else. Proudmoore had been sharp but she hadn't often been snappish with peers.
"I know," Jaina said in a more reasonable tone. "I- It- Garrosh-" She took another moment to collect her thoughts. "Khadgar is a fine mage and me going would possibly undermine him. I would rather we look united given all that has happened." Modera was about to use that to segue back into her original topic, but Jaina continued. "If I go, I will lose myself. My healer agrees. If I go, he will just hurt me more."
Modera tilted her head. "Lose yourself? What do you mean your healer agrees? The one you're seeing in Pandaria? Wasn't that for the fight at the temple?" What was she talking about?
Jaina toyed with her teacup, clearly trying to decide what to say. Jaina was many things, but an idiot was not one of them. Modera had often found she had good insights and a keen understanding of magical practice and theory. She had the most unfortunate taste in romantic partners in all of Azeroth, but it wasn't so bad as character flaws went. The dragon, at least, appeared to be disinclined to mass murder and genocide. Modera sipped her tea and gave the younger mage some space.
"This is personal matter of my health and I would appreciate your discretion," Jaina said eventually.
"Of course." Modera nodded.
"The Pandaren healer I have been seeing has been helping me recover. Not anything physical from the trial, but... All the rest from the last year." She bit her lower lip in a nervous gesture. Modera was surprised Proudmoore had let that much show. It spoke volumes to how candid she was being. Or perhaps how unsettled and tired she actually was.
"She said that she saw in me the same sort of emotional injuries their warriors have sometimes. The danger is gone but they cannot stop being hyper-aware, or being angry, or just..." She trailed off with a shake of her head. "Between what happened in Theramore and with the Divine Bell, I have not been myself. My anger was justified. I still think what I did to protect Dalaran was correct. But I have been unable to... leave the feelings behind. At least on my own. And I am finally making some progress." The archmage winced. "That probably makes no sense."
Modera found herself feeling both a jolt of recognition and a shameful twinge. "You expect that whatever bad events might happen will. You are absolutely certain that if only you had been better, you might have saved your teammates, your compatriots, that next village, and it keeps you up at night. Sometimes you want nothing more than to sleep forever and leave everything behind. Other times your heart burns and you just want to laugh as you set the rest of the world on fire."
Jaina's eyes snapped up to hers, wide and blue and young. The Archmage looked as hopeful as she was surprised. In a flash of insight a number of things resolved into clarity for Modera.
Modera hadn't realized, hadn't recognized, the seething hatred. She'd had her own inferno to fight down as she had fought it down so many times before. But perhaps Archmage Proudmoore didn't know how to fight it. She'd hidden it away; she was a diplomat after all and used to wearing masks. Garrosh had fanned it to full flame once more and the result had been her fury during the purge. Modera hadn't noticed. At the time she had personally wanted to flay Garrosh Hellscream, too.
She still did, truthfully.
Maybe the shortness and temper over the last year hadn't been entirely about trying to fit in to Dalaran's leadership structure. Maybe some of the kindred sense Modera had felt wasn't because Jaina was gruff, direct and action oriented. She'd been slowly smouldering and Modera hadn't recognized there was even a problem. At least not consciously.
"You've felt like this?" Jaina asked, hesitantly, hopefully.
Modera frowned. "This conversation needs to happen over alcohol."
Jaina twisted her fingers and murmured a spell. Stars and stones she's good, Modera thought as a bottle of very nice dark spiced rum appeared with two glasses. There was hardly any wasted magical energy and it had taken her barely a thought to gather what she needed and send it spinning into the aether.
Modera abruptly had the desire to get her into the training salle and see what she could do. She'd been a back line combatant at Thunder Isle and at the Siege, but that was a far cry from really letting loose on the enemy. Modera had been told Jaina had an army of water elementals at her command when she'd turned from drowning Orgrimmar to save the Alliance fleet. She'd had the Focusing Iris, but it was a fulcrum; control came from the mage wielding it.
Modera also wanted to teach her better defenses while spellcasting. Antonidas had been a great mage, but he wasn't a warcaster. She'd finally gotten some details of what had actually happened at the trial. Taking a sniper's shot to the chest was a rookie mistake. Modera remembered old friends who made that mistake with a familiar pang though they were decades gone.
The difference in their training was also likely why Jaina didn't have the ability to deal with the shaky, dark feelings after combat; at heart she was an academic and they didn't write books about the ugly truth of what happened after battle when all you could smell was burned flesh, the sewage scent of death and the charged, sharp static of arcane energy.
There wasn't formal training to handle the screams of the dying, the feelings after hearing a life end mid-shout, the helplessness as someone you knew died despite their great power or your own. At least not in Dalaran or in the Alliance.
In Pandaria it seemed to be a different story.
Modera poured for both of them, shot back her first pour then refilled her glass. She contemplated it as Jaina sipped the dark liquid. "Word is you saved King Wrynn with a fireball then got taken out by a sniper," Modera stated.
Jaina nodded, grimacing. "I was preparing another fireball, a bigger one. The Dragonmaw leader was my target," Jaina stated, her voice heated with restrained fury. "After what Alexstrasza said they did to her..." She shook herself all over then took a deep breath then let it out slowly, rolling her shoulders back in that same meditative ritual. "I didn't even see the sniper," Jaina concluded more calmly a moment later.
"Rookie battlemage mistake," Modera observed, giving voice to her thoughts. Jaina scowled and Modera held up a hand. "That has less to do with you and more to do with me and the other battle casters. We know what to look for, when to strike, and how to stay aware of the battlefield. You didn't have our training and why should you? You've avoided wars and combat when you could, and you'd acquitted yourself well when you'd been caught in battle. But we didn't share our training and we should have."
Jaina closed her mouth and the frown eased. "It isn't what I was trained to do," she agreed, quietly. "I'd have said I was getting along just fine but," she trailed off and touched her chest where the small white scar was all that remained of the bullet that had ended her life.
"I am just realizing that. I think I assumed you knew all the things I did. You have a reputation for utter and total competence, you know?" Modera's lips twisted into a small smile before she sobered once more.
"I know you've seen conflict and battle before, I was with you in Thunder Isle, but I forgot you're not trained to it." Modera leaned back in her chair, one arm over the back, the other holding the tumbler of rum. "Not the actual fight. And not what comes after."
Modera sipped her drink. The glass clacked dully on the wooden table top as she set it down again. "When I was an apprentice, my master made me talk over every fight with him afterwards. Even if I didn't want to. Especially if I didn't want to do it. He was a bastard, but he was right."
Modera's eyes met Jaina's. "Hard thing to leave the battlefield behind you. Bigger the battle, the more personal the loss, the harder it is. In the beginning I had my master and my team to... exorcise the things I've seen. The things I've done." Her eyes narrowed. "Like you, I wouldn't take any one of them back, but I acknowledge that war is..." she trailed off waving a hand generally to encompass everything. Proudmoore seemed to get it and nodded.
"So the Pandaren turned getting your inner demons out into a science? They'd know how with the Sha, wouldn't they," Modera mused. She was rambling, but Jaina didn't seem to care or mind; She'd actually relaxed.
Jaina nodded. "Apparently it's an entire field of healing on its own in Pandaria."
Modera had done wrong though unintentionally, and she'd found it was often best to confront things head-on. "I'm sorry I didn't try to reach out to help. It... Archmage you're a damned good diplomat. I didn't even notice it was something you were dealing with. I never made the connection between the bloody long battles I've seen and what's happened to you over the last year."
She swore and sat back as another thought occurred to her. "You might not be the only one. We had a lot of older mages engaged in the wars who aren't used to even as much combat as you've seen, Archmage." Modera tipped her head back and swallowed the rest of the glass. She set it down and poured again. "They might be just as good at hiding as you are. Some of the younger ones, too. probably." Modera shook her head. "I never noticed. Damn."
"One thing that has been made abundantly clear to me over the past few days is that being hard on yourself all the time isn't healthy," Jaina said ruefully. "You didn't know. It isn't as if I was here much for you to have a comparison of what I was like..." She took a quick moment. "What I was like before my people were killed." Her tone was quiet but strong.
Modera grunted. There had been some quiet whispers and sniping that 'Jaina wasn't as nice since that Theramore thing', but Modera had dismissed the gossip. No one was nice all the time as the rumors had claimed Jaina was- Had been. If other people had noticed a change of some sort, maybe she should have given the words more weight and maybe she'd have seen what she saw now; pain and struggle.
"I suppose," Modera said. "But the point of Dalaran, at least as I see it, is for mages to stick together and help one another. It's why the damned city was founded, after all. We needed a place where we were safe to practice and live. I'm one of the seniormost battlemages in the city, Jaina, and I am on the Council. This field and everything related to it is supposed to be my area of expertise. I won't dwell on it, Archmage, but I will address it now I know where to look. Nothing to do but move on and fix what might be broken." She tapped her forefinger against the table to emphasize her point.
Jaina snorted sardonically. "That. That right there is what I would wish to have. The easy ability to move on." It was a surprisingly candid admission.
"Oh, it isn't easy," Modera said, equally candid. "It's more about cussed stubbornness than anything. You decide and you keep deciding. You fake it until it's true. Doesn't always work," she growled. "But it's the tool I had."
"How widespread do you think that sort of tool is?" Jaina asked. "Are there other warcasters who might have insight on how to handle what happens after combat?"
Modera shrugged, looking off into the distance. "It's... We all learned it from fighting with the armies. From being soldiers. From older soldiers who'd managed to live. It's not formal. It's just... Dealing." She shook her head. "The older hands might know it, but they might not and I'm not going to assume anything anymore. Maybe it should be formalized before the current crop of apprentices see whatever the next conflict is." Modera frowned and wondered if she should voice the foreboding that had been growing in her heart.
"Do you have the time to look into this? See if it is an issue?" Jaina asked. "We may be able to offer an exchange to the Shado-Pan. Additional magical support in exchange for care for our people there as well as here in Dalaran. We may have to give up some of the items we recovered from Thunder Isle, but it would be worth it for the people here."
"I'll damn well make time. Khadgar knows where to find me if he needs more firepower, but I can't abandon my duties here entirely." Modera said. "I've seen what happens when a soldier can't leave the battlefield behind. When it's a mage? Not pretty."
Jaina's smile was rueful. "I believe I have personal experience with that." She sipped her drink.
Modera waved a hand. "You didn't see yourself that day, Jaina. I haven't seen someone leaking power like that in a lot time. It was absolutely affecting you as much as everything else was."
"It isn't a good excuse."
"You didn't drown Orgrimmar."
"Kalec talked me out of it."
Modera grimaced. "And there is an issue I am still dealing with. Dragons. The blue flight. I wasn't terribly happy to hear he would be helping with our greater workings, but at the same time, we could use the extra muscle right now."
"He's probably more powerful than half the council all on his own." Jaina frowned. "I'm going to need about a week before I'm back at my full strength, but I'll need at least another day to recover enough to help again. I'd rather not step into my usual rotations until I hit my full strength and feel a bit better. Call it another four days? He'll be covering for me and Khadgar, then I intend to have him added to the roster."
Modera looked up with a low whistle.
Jaina nodded. "He's... powerful. It's a bit daunting sometimes."
"I knew that. He's the former Aspect of Magic and a few thousand years old after all. No, I was impressed with you. How deep is your mana pool that you need more than a week to recover."
Jaina tilted her head, eyebrows drawing together. "Antonidas was the same way. Kael. Magna Aegwynn. Khadgar, I think. Tervosh didn't need quite as long, but it was the better part of a week for him. I'm hardly unusual."
Modera snorted. "Consider the company you have listed yourself among, Jaina. Most Magi are fairly well recovered with an afternoon nap and a sandwich. Our archmages here might take a few days, the senior ones a day or so more than that. Some of the older elves can take a week, but they're few and far between. Trust me, here in Dalaran you're in rarified company if your wellsping is that deep."
Jaina frowned. "Truly?"
"You never noticed?"
She shook her head. "I was a student the last time I lived in Dalaran. I haven't been around many other mages in the intervening years, and the ones I was around, well, I just listed them," she trailed off.
"Rarified company," Modera repeated, with a shake of her head. "Khadgar's well is deep. I'm not shallow but I don't have the absolute muscle he has. Rhonin was on the upper end of average for a human, but he was one of the most efficient casters I've had the pleasure to work with. I never saw the end of Krasus' mana pool but I didn't count on him being the King of the Red Flight." Modera frowned at that thought.
"What?"
"Krasus was a red dragon. Damn fine mage, but magic isn't what the reds are known for." She eyed Jaina. "Makes me wonder how deep Kalecgos's mana pool is."
"Deep," Jaina confirmed solemnly. "We built a hearthstone for Anduin yesterday. I caught a glimpse in the joint working. It was..." She shivered a little and from the light blush Modera knew it wasn't from fear. Jaina changed the topic entirely and Modera found herself smirking just a little. "Anyway, yes, I've had words with Finch. I got the impression it was less about the 'security risk' of a dragon and more feelings of pride."
"Pride?"
Jaina nodded, her brows furrowed thoughtfully. "My guess is that he did not appreciate the attitudes of some of the dragons he interacted with during the Cataclysm."
Modera snorted. "There was a lot of that going around. Still going around."
"Be that as it may, this is our city and our rules. Kalec was inducted as an archmage so he's bound by those same rules and practices as anyone else. Those rules were breached and the Council decided the appropriate action was to expel the Sunreavers." Her eyes met Modera's. "I do not expect it would happen, but if he should break our rules, then he would be subject to the same penalties up to and including what we did with the Sunreavers."
Modera bit back a kneejerk reply then nodded. "Fine. I suppose I can accept that."
"Thank you." Jaina inclined her head.
"But he isn't the only one who needs to follow rules. Starting next week I want to get you in my classroom for evaluation and training. You're going to be seeing combat again at some point. I want you to know how to really move and defend."
"Modera-"
She slashed a hand through the air as she cut her off. "No. Non-negotiable. Ansirem did them too when I found out he didn't know how to get out of the way of a returning fireball. Rhonin took refresher courses whether he needed them or not. Next time there will not be an Eternal to save your life, Jaina. This is my job, please let me do it."
Jaina bowed her head. "I suppose that's fair."
"We'll find the gaps in your knowledge and arm you with better knowhow," Modera said, shooting her a fierce grin. Phrasing it as new knowledge and Academic mages typically found the subject of war-casting far more interesting than they would otherwise, but Jaina knew firsthand the importance of what Modera could teach. The younger mage nodded firmly in agreement.
"What does your dragon know about offensive spellcasting?" Modera asked, surprising herself as well as Jaina.
"I get the impression he's not done too much, actually. At least not recently. Kalec is a dragon of peace."
Which was a fine thing to say, but they lived in dangerous times. Jaina was a mage of peace and she'd bound a tidal wave's worth of water elementals to her will. The situation had been extraordinary but now Modera knew she could do it- it was a weapon in Dalaran's collective arsenal. Great powers could go mighty things. And terrible ones.
"Probably knows how to make the most absurdly inefficient fireball ever devised by a thousand years of draconic theorycraft." Modera snorted and tapped her fingers against the glass. "Well, then I'll want to see what he can do, too. If he's going to be living here then I want to know the trouble he could cause and the trouble he could stop."
Jaina inclined her head. "I concede the point."
"Good! That brings me back to my-" Modera paused as the front door opened. Speak of the demon," she thought to herself.
Kalecgos had returned and was speaking animatedly to someone, the words muffled. A second voice, male, replied to a question and Modera was stunned to hear Archmage Finch reply in the same animated tone. The two rounded the corner, Finch munching on some sort of pastry as Kalec replied over his shoulder. The dragon was carrying two large bakery boxes.
"It really only works as well as it does because the Nexus was already sitting on a confluence of ley lines and, this is my theory mind you, it has either generated or attracted an intellectus," Kalec said.
Finch had been about to bite into his pastry again, but stopped to comment. "Given the age and weight of the place I can see that happening but such spirits are notoriously reclusive."
"Which is why it's a theory. I sensed something when I held the Mantle but I very politely didn't directly engage and the- oh, hello." Kalec blinked owlishly at Modera, his expression suddenly wary. His eyes found Jaina and he relaxed as she smiled at him
Jaina rose from her seat, to greet him. She shot Modera a look. Her expression was outwardly neutral but her eyes were pure defiance. Jaina turned her attention to Kalec and the tight defiant eased. "Hello, Love." She leaned up on her toes to kiss him. "Finch," she greeted pleasantly.
"Archmage," Finch said around his pastry, apparently not at all phased by her kissing the dragon in front of them.
Kalec's entire demeanor relaxed and softened around Proudmoore. He set the boxes on the countertop of the central island and opened one as he spoke. "We stopped for a late lunch after we finished today's tasks and got to talking about the wards on the Nexus." He pulled out four cupcakes and set them on the counter before closing the box again. He grinned at her somehow managing to look both naughty and sweet."I promised I'd leave you some cupcakes."
Jaina laughed at what was clearly some private joke between them, the worry and weight of Dalaran fading away. The dragon too seemed to light up as she laughed. They leaned towards one another, not dismissing the others present but far more intent on each other.
"Is this what you had for lunch?"
"No, but they looked delicious as we walked by. I thought to leave a few for you as a surprise before heading to your office." He smiled brilliantly. "Algus and I were going to take a quick trip to Coldarra. I wanted to consult with him about some maintenance improvements I might be able to make to the wards there."
"Oh?" Jaina's eyebrows raced for her hairline.
Kalec nodded, his excitement an almost physical thing. "We finished up the tasks for today and Algus was telling me about the genesis of the wards you have here."
"And I asked about Coldarra. Curious you know," Finch added. He looked over at Modera. "I mean we're all a bit curious what's inside."
"And we got to talking and some of it is just easier to understand if you see it. Wards aren't my specialty, but Algus knows an incredible amount about keeping huge workings running efficiently."
"I thought it sounded like a brilliant idea. The Nexus wards are incredibly strong and there might be something we could use here as well since it seems the original genesis was quite similar!" Finch enthused before taking another bite of his pastry.
"I should be home for a late dinner if you don't mind?" Kalec's eyes widened just a bit and he glanced in Modera's direction before focusing on Jaina.
Jaina's smile and eyes were soft. She touched his wrist. "Go have fun. I look forward to hearing about it when you come home." There was the slightest emphasis on the word 'home' in her gentle tone. The boyish smile returned to the dragon's face. If anything he was even happier. He swooped in for a short, heated kiss Jaina seemed not to have been expecting. She made a little startled noise and had to steady herself with a hand on his arm. She laughed when it was over.
"Do you want me to remind you to come home?" she asked seriously.
"I have to be back in Dalaran at least an hour after sundown or there will be hell to pay at home," Finch added. "So I would appreciate some warning if you don't see hide nor hair of us, Archmage."
"I'll see to it then," Jaina laughed and inclined her head. She leaned up to kiss Kalec again then made a shooing motion with her hands. "Go on."
"Do you want to come with us?" he asked, looking at Modera as well to include her in the invitation.
Jaina looked as if she might agree, there was a gleam in her eye that all the more academic mages got when presented with shiny new research, but then she shook her head. "I have some things to do here. You two go. I'll probably just fall asleep again anyway. Next time."
Kalec's expression fell into concern and she lightly pushed his chest. "I'll be fine with a nap. You should get going before it gets any later."
Kalec nodded and picked up the top of the two boxes. "I'll see you for dinner then." He nodded politely to Modera as he said his farewell and then the two resumed their conversation as they left.
Jaina watched after for a moment then offered Modera one of the cupcakes that had been left out. Modera accepted it mutely and wondering at the rapid change in attitude. Jaina sat down across from her and began to pick apart the dessert. Modera did the same, both finishing the last of the rum they had poured.
"That was... Interesting. They seem to have resolved their issues."
Jaina's smile was just two shades from being smug. "I had hoped given a chance more people would see him as I do. I'm pleasantly surprised how quickly Finch seems to have given him a chance." Jaina fixed her with a penetrating look. "You might find he's a genuinely nice person too."
Modera inclined her head. "I am willing to accept that perhaps I have not been as charitable as I could have been."
"Would you try? If not as a personal favor as a tactical maneuver. He's a powerful mage and you've just brought up how badly understrength we are."
"I would not do for us to appear divided," Modera mused, realized that perhaps she had been guilty of it as much as anyone else had been. She inclined her head. "I will try."
"Thank you."
"When do you feel you'd be up for some training?"
"Next week at the earliest."
"We'll start then. I'll be asking Kalec to do the same as well, but I think I'll let Finch have him for a few days," she added, lips twisting into a smirk. Proudmoore laughed quietly.
"I'll make inquiries with the Shado-pan healer I have been working with, if you'll look into things on your end."
"That'd be good. I'll get out of your hair then, Archmage," Modera said, rising. Jaina followed her to the door. Modera picked up her staff and paused before leaving. "There is one other thing."
"Oh?"
"It's just a bad feeling I can't shake."
Several emotions flickered across Jaina's face, chief among them were worry and fear but there was also a determination in the lift of her chin. "A premonition?"
Modera shook her head. "No. I've never had any talent in that area. Just a gut feeling something is on the horizon. It's probably just me being cynical."
"If you really thought that, you wouldn't have said anything," Jaina pointed out. "Kinndy was rather talented in this area. Her last bad feeling happened shortly before she was killed."
Modera let out a puff of air and nodded. "It isn't anything to worry over immediately. If I might share some of what I have learned, it's that you can't spend much time being anxious about stuff like this. It'll wear you down and then you won't be able to address the actual crisis."
Jaina did the little meditative routine and nodded. "I trust your judgement, Modera. Please let me know if something changes."
Modera nodded. "I don't want to add to the pile, but you're right. It's something large enough to bother me." She hefted her staff. "We'll face it down."
"We will," Jaina agreed. "Goodnight."
Modera left at a ground-eating stroll, heading for her own quarters. The conversation had not gone as expected, but it had gone better than she'd thought it might. While the nagging feeling in the back of her mind hadn't eased, she certainly felt better for all the things they had discussed. Tomorrow was another day of challenges and while some of those things would eventually try to kill her, probably, she felt a small measure of hope.