Jaina returned to Dalaran and found something quick to eat so she wouldn't do whatever it was Modera wanted either starving or on a full stomach. She mentally listed the other items she wished to accomplish that day. Now that the issue of Varian and Stormwind's reaction was put to bed, she likely had some time to get ahead and address some of the tasks she'd set aside until the following day.
Vereesa Windrunner was seated on a chair by Jaina's office. She rose as the Archmage neared. Her friend's expression was troubled. Jaina offered her a tentative smile as she approached and opened the office.
"Hello, Vereesa." She hadn't seen much of the Ranger-General and she hoped that her presence here now was a good sign.
"Jaina. Have a minute? I'd like to speak with you privately."
"Of course," Jaina said. The Archmage closed the door behind her and set up a privacy charm. She led the way and sat in the small seating area rather than at her desk. Jaina had little doubt about what Vereesa wished to speak of, and hoped taking a more informal approach would make the discussion easier and more productive. The elf had had time to process her feelings. Maybe they would be able to talk through the issue as she and Varian had done.
The elf sat on the edge of her seat, her hands folded in her lap. "I wanted to discuss the issue of Horde reintegration with you."
"Okay," Jaina said, noting Vereesa's eyes hadn't met hers, and she frowned in concern. "I showed you the numbers in support. From a logistical standpoint it is one of the best things we can do for the city."
The Ranger-General nodded. "Yes, and that makes for some logical sense but, Jaina, I still think this is a bad idea. The Horde have proven to be untrustworthy numerous times."
"In most of those cases, it was Garrosh who was the largest issue and instigator," Jaina reminded her, then added somewhat flatly. "The Alliance hasn't been without fault in this area either."
"But the Horde are constantly conquering new territory," Vereesa countered. "They have an insatiable need for new resources and new materials. They've decimated entire regions by burning trees and mining."
"Again, Garrosh pushing for more and more industry had an impact on much of what they did."
"It isn't just Garrosh! The logging in Ashenvale has been an issue for years."
"It isn't just Garrosh," Jaina agreed, "but I know there are solutions to the resources issue." She smiled at the women she still hoped was a friend. "I have been giving some thought to this idea for a rather long time. I know we can find answers that we can live with." She felt her smile twist a bit ruefully, "even if we don't like it entirely."
"Jaina-" Vereesa cut herself off and shook her head.
"Vereesa, I think-" she stopped and sighed before continuing. "Vereesa I think if Varian can talk, we might be able to do something. I know Baine would be willing to speak which, I think, would get Tyrande talking."
"They were opponents at the trial."
"Yes, and because of that I think they understand the other better as a result. Baine's people have not been proponents of the mass logging happening in Kalimdor and I think he understands Tyrande's position better than he did before. I think Tyrande respects Baine's honor. He had the thankless task of defending Garrosh and even if he had personal reason to hate him, he still did it."
"The Tauren have stood by before and let the rest of the Horde do what they want," Vereesa snapped, eyes grown cold as she gave Jaina a pointed look.
"They have," Jaina admitted. "But none of the recent decisions have sat well with them. I think they're against the deforestation and stripmining as well, and this is an opportunity to extend support for their position. It isn't just the Tauren who disfavor Garrosh's way of doing things. Vol'jin and the trolls lost much and have an influential population of druids. They'd be amenable to talks so the goblins don't look to their lands once Azshara is deforested."
"None of that has anything to do with Dalaran!" Vereesa said.
"Dalaran being neutral again can help set the current political tone. If we make the move to neutrality, we can help support the other mixed organizations like the Cenarion Circle and the Earthen Ring. Those organizations might be able to take stronger stances and convince people to actually talk. Supporting Horde races who are already looking to change things can only create a more amenable Horde."
"Those organizations had their chance, twice before. They never took it, Jaina." Vereesa leaned forward, her tone passionate, eyes pleading. "When we marched on Ice Crown the Earthen Ring and the Cenarion Circle had ample opportunity to push forward with the same peaceful agenda you wanted. Then when Deathwing rose they had that opportunity again!" She shook her head. "Jaina they never said anything. Right when it would have been most effective for them to do so. Even after Deathwing it would have been feasible for them to speak up."
Jaina's lips thinned as she felt the familiar rising simmer of anger. Thrall had even taken over leadership of the Earthen Ring during that latest period. Instead of promoting further cooperation, instead of picking up the peace talks he and varian had begun in Theramore years before, he'd installed Garrosh Hellscream as Warchief. The mage looked up and could easily read those same thoughts in Vereesa's expression.
"They have had opportunities to build peace and haven't taken them. They haven't helped you. They abandoned you, isn't that what you said?" Vereesa asked, sitting back and crossing her arms.
Jaina winced. She had said that. And, she had to admit, a part of her still felt that way.
"Conquest is part of Orcish culture, and part of the Trolls' as well. How much of the history of Azeroth is written in the blood of wars against the trolls?" Vereesa added.
"At this moment," Jaina countered, "Vol'jin is looking to get his house in order, not pursue conquest. That takes away the pressure from the top on the Horde side opt for conquest. I think he will be more interested in focusing his resources elsewhere."
"I don't see how you can expect something different from any of them. How do you think you'll even reach them when-" she paused a moment then continued anyway. "They're afraid of you," her friend said, stating the truth Jaina had so many mixed feelings about. "You almost single-handedly drowned their city."
Jaina winced in pain but nodded. She had done that and she was grateful she had stopped. She rubbed her hands over her skirt, blowing out a breath.
"The Cenarion Circle and the Earthen Ring are made up of more than races from one side. And so has the Kirin Tor for most of the last decade, Vereesa. No one made a move from the Horde side before, that is historical fact, but we didn't reach out on our side either. The Kirin Tor didn't push the issue. That was probably a mistake. No, it was a mistake. We can push now and it starts with reintegration here. We'd have actions to back our words if we push at the other neutral organizations." She paused and allowed Vereesa to chew on that for a moment before she added, "Varian agrees with me about Vol'jin. Varian Vereesa. He admits he isn't comfortable with parts of it, just like I'm not, but he agrees with the overall idea of reintegration."
She'd gotten Varian to the table just after he'd killed Onyxia but the presence of Garona and the attack on her city had shattered that meeting. His stance had shifted since then, and he'd learned to rein in his temper as she was learning. Jaina wasn't grasping at smoke; these were real possibilities, difficult as they might be to actually get done.
Vereesa glared. She began to say something then stopped and looked away for a beat before meeting Jaina's eyes. "What is to stop the Horde from using the portals here, again?"
"We need to enact better protections," Jaina allowed. That Dalaran had been the vector for the attack on Darnassus had been a large sore spot for many mages in the city, Jaina and the Council included. Instead of dwelling on the past mistakes which would only fuel her anger and rage, Jaina focused on what she could do better now. "What would the Silver Covenant need to properly protect the Alliance portals here?" she asked, hoping to draw Vereesa into a productive forward thinking discussion.
"I would remind you that the Silver Covenant was created to oppose the Blood Elves in Dalaran," Vereesa said, her tone as chilly as a Northrend glacier. "And we were right all along. All of this happened because Sunreaver allowed it." Her eyes narrowed to slim bands of blue. "It makes one wonder what else he might have had a hand in."
Jaina shoved down the instant feeling of rage as Vereesa blatantly ignored her question in favor of a much more controversial argument. There was no indication whatsoever that Sunreaver had had anything to do with the mana-bomb that had ended Theramore. His behavior and actions when she'd joined the council indicated he was as sickened by what had happened as any of them. Doubt whispered in the back of her mind however. He'd known about the plot to infiltrate Darnassus. Jaina shoved the doubt away, drew in a breath and let it out. Vereesa's look was triumphant but Jaina did not agree with her as she once had. She couldn't.
She was done with giving Garrosh and his lackeys pieces of her soul.
"Sunreaver will not have a place on the council," Jaina decreed. She knew the others on the council would agree with her - even Khadgar, who was the most permissive of them all. Sunreaver had been admitted to their ranks as a peer. His betrayal still stung. "Archmage Spellsong has assumed his place. There is no room. I am not certain we will even allow him back into the city. While we wish to readmit Horde mages, his readmittance is not a foregone conclusion."
"Even if you ban Sunreaver his orders will still come. Hellscream never had to set foot in Dalaran to get Sunreaver and his people to betray the trust the Kirin Tor extended to them."
Jaina closed her eyes and bit back a sharp retort. She knew that. She'd just snapped at Varian over that, albeit about Theramore and not Dalaran, but the point was no less salient.
"They killed everyone you knew and loved and led." Vereesa reminded her again, voice cutting through the silence between them. The words fell like hammer blows, "How can you consider letting them in here? They have proven time and time again to be untrustworthy. They killed Kinndy, lured the seventh fleet into a trap, killed our rangers and allies from the Exodar, and my husband! They could do that again!"
"This is what is right for Dalaran," Jaina said, clinging to the words, reminding herself of the data, of the hope and joy in Anduin's face when they'd spoken earlier. "It is the right thing for Azeroth." It was what was needed to be done for Anduin and his future and that of his children, for the survivors of her city and Vereesa's sons.
It might even be good for her to be the one to set aside rancor. No, she corrected, it would be good. Theramore's death had shocked the world. They would not so easily allow such a thing to happen again. She would never allow it to happen.
"Most of the people I loved and cared for were killed, that is true, Vereesa. But I am trying to do this precisely because I don't want to lose anyone else," her voice quavering slightly at the start but growing stronger as she spoke. She wouldn't lose anyone else.
"How can you think this will be approved of?"
"The council has already voted," Jaina informed her friend. "It was unanimous that we move forward on this, Vereesa." She let her tone grow gentle, softening the harshness. "It is simply a matter of how and when now." Please, Jaina thought, join me in this, my friend
Vereesa blanched, her jaw working soundlessly for a moment before her eyes turned to chips of ice, her lips thinning into a firm line.
"How can you encourage them to invade our home again?" the elf demanded, "This might not be your home but it is mine! This was the home I helped make with my Rhonin and our sons!"
"Rhonin was Grand Magus when the Horde was admitted in the first place." Jaina reminded her, trying to remain calm and not match the other woman's tone. "He allowed it and agreed it must be done to enable the Icecrown Campaign to be successful. And he was right! Vereesa, he was right! We stopped Arthas from destroying the world and killing more people than he would have if he'd gone unchecked! It was a contentious decision then, but he did it because it defeated the Lich king. Because it was right for Azeroth."
"And look where it ultimately got him!" She snapped back, eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "He died because of their treachery! He left me and our sons alone!" Vereesa's voice cracked on the last word.
"Vereesa-"
"Look what the Horde has done to you! Your father is dead because of the Horde! Your brother died when Dragonmaw Orcs sank his ship. You are the last Proudmoore because of the Horde." Vereesa's tone snarled as her words lashed out, invoking the dead. "Because of the Horde you nearly died in Theramore. Because my Rhonin chose to save you. He chose to abandon his duties, his city!" She swallowed. "He abandoned hisfamily to save a contrary mage who felt herself too good for the rest of her order. She who chose to play tin god over her little town to fill her own lonely disappointing existence because no real ruler would take her as a wife. Rhonin followed a damned dragon prophecy and sacrificed his rich and full life for someone whose life was and still is barren and sad! You made yourself a target with your so-called peaceful ways, but you also allowed an Alliance military base practically in Garrosh's backyard! You were surprised he attacked with his full force? How much of a moron could you be? It was your stupidity and weakness that lured how many additional people into the trap he set?"
Jaina sat back in her seat, eyes wide as each word slashed at her. From the outset Vereesa had never blamed her. Jaina had feared that when she'd come to Dalaran afterwards. But Vereesa had hated Garrosh Hellscream as as much as she had, and they'd been strong for the other. Vereesa had never blamed her. Or so Jaina had thought. The venomous words washed over her like a wave of acid and she was drowning.
"My husband sacrificed our precious time together to save you and this is how you repay him?" Vereesa continued savaging her, the emotional quaver in her voice evening out into crystal clear, coldness. "This is how you react to your own murdered citizens? By turning the other cheek so they can scratch that too? By inviting the same people who murdered him and everyone who gave you a chance, to come here and do the same thing? Are they going to destroy this island city too, Proudmoore? Will you miraculously escape this time?" Vereesa had stood, her hands balled into fists, her teeth bared as she growled at Jaina.
Jaina could only gape in shock. Vereesa's heaving breath showed in the suddenly chilly temperature of the room, fallen tears freezing as they fell to the floor.
"What have you done with the gift my husband gave to you? Nothing. You're trading away our hard won artifacts to the Shado-pan for healers we don't need. You're opening my home to needless danger. Some stupid dragon prophecy tricked my husband into saving your worthless life and now my sons will never really know their father!" she sneered and leaned forward. "You play at being a negotiator but what have you ever done with it other than betray the Alliance? You couldn't even convince Varian Wrynn, the most bloody-minded warrior ever, to dismantle the Horde when we had the opportunity," Vereesa continued. "Maybe you should have opened your legs for him rather than that damned dragon."
Jaina rocked back as if struck physically. Vereesa froze, eyes wide in surprise as the weight of her words caught up with her. The Ranger-General turned and left without another word, not bothering to close the door behind her as she stalked away.
Jaina watched her go in shock.
Coherent thoughts slipped through her mind like water through her fingers, running disjointed and free. Had she wasted Rhonin's gift? She'd thought not. She was doing this because it felt right, except at this moment she felt anything but right. She'd fancied herself a diplomat, but had she done anything of note? She hadn't accomplished what she'd wanted to see. Was this more grasping at smoke and shadows?
"Jaina."
Theramore had been a good place with good people and how dare Vereesa imply they weren't worth anything because they'd been stupid enough to follow Jaina. Was this just a hurt reaction or was Vereesa finally speaking the truth to her now that they no longer had their hatred to share? Jaina had feared this reaction, but when it hadn't come when she'd returned to Dalaran to stay, she'd managed to let that fear go. Was that a mistake too?
"Jaina!"
She was worth more than as just the broodmare or bed-warmer of some lord or king or anyone. She was! Wasn't she? She'd done her best! Hadn't she? But she'd not been the one to die. She'd been saved. Rhonin had sacrificed a life with his family for a woman who'd never have one. She'd failed repeatedly; in bringing peace, in having a family, in leading, in keeping her people safe and secure.
But she'd had successes, hadn't she? Theramore had been a success hadn't it? She'd gotten Thrall and Varian to the same negotiating table until it had devolved into a mess when outside forces attacked. It had been Rhonin's choice to shove her away. Jaina had been intent on getting them both out of there, but could she have dragged the other mage through with her? Could she have resisted his shove better? Could she have noticed Garrosh's trap sooner? Had she failed her people by her naive choices years before-
"Jaina!"
Jaina snapped out of her spiraling thoughts as something cold and metallic slapped down over one wrist and then the other. Abruptly the background hum of arcane magic vanished and her own personal manapool was just out of reach. Her mind and body reeled in the sudden absence. Jaina flailed, startled and terrified. Strong hands grabbed her own, their warmth a shocking contrast to the ice around her.
"Jaina, calm down," Modera said. She moved her hands to Jaina's shoulders, holding her steady. "Calm down," she said, tone gentle but still commanding. "You need to settle down before you turn this entire tower into an ice block."
Looking around the room, Jaina saw that most surfaces were covered in a thick layer of frost. She could see her own breath and that of Modera's. The effect spilled out the door and well into the hallway. Icicles had begun to form and hung from the light fixtures and the edge of her book case. Jaina closed her eyes, pained, then looked at her wrists. Suppression manacles. Not as strong as a collar, she probably could have powered her way past them if she wanted, but they'd cut her off enough to stop the growing cold.
"Are you feeling calmer?" Modera asked her.
Jaina sagged, defeated. She nodded, unable to meet Modera's eyes. The other archmage removed the manacles and Jaina immediately dismissed the ice from the room, sublimating it into vapor. She rubbed her wrists as Modera tucked the suppressors back into her robes.
"I don't keep a set of these on me at all times, despite what the rumors might say," Modera joked after Jaina remained silent. "I was on my way to find you for our appointment when I saw Windrunner and the ice in the hall. I had time to get those from my office."
Jaina slowly looked up at the other mage.
Modera's look softened for a fraction of an instant then became her usual businesslike expression. "Come on. We're going to set those benchmarks."
"I- Modera, no. I don't think- Modera I don't think that would be wise."
"Are you going to lose control again?"
"No," Jaina said, dropping her eyes. She'd lost control last time she and Vereesa had argued in her office. They'd shouted at one another and half the building had heard. Her cheeks burned as she withstood Modera's eyes."I should not-" She broke off. "I do not think this is the time."
"I think it's a fine time," Modera said. "You're pissed off, right?"
Jaina gritted her teeth against the fist around her heart, cheeks burning hotter. She would not lose control like some barely trained novice. Again.
"Come on," Modera said. "Blowing things up is cathartic." She stepped closer, leaning in. "Trust me. A little bit of controlled destruction is good for burning away some of the inner demons."
Jaina scowled into the middle distance, Vereesa's words ringing in her ears, her cheeks burning. She wanted to- What did she want to do? She wasn't even sure. Leave here. Not necessarily Dalaran but this room. Be away from the scene of their verbal battle. She wanted Kalec. She wanted to lose herself in his arms and be petted and told it was okay. She wanted to cry. To scream. She wanted to lash out and shake Vereesa until she understood. Maybe tear into her verbally too. Retaliate.
Jaina closed her eyes. No. Light, how she wanted to savage the other woman, but that would accomplish nothing. It wouldn't make the words hurt any less.
It wouldn't silence the demons whispering that Vereesa was right.
"Come on," Modera said. She lowered her voice. "Indulge me. Then I can hunt down Kalecgos for you or you can go see the healer in Pandaria or we can even get stinking drunk. Let's work some of it off."
Jaina looked at the older woman. "You implied you wanted to see how destructive I could be. Is that really wise when I was leaking power like a novice in her first week of training?"
"The room on the fifth floor is probably the best place if you don't feel like you can control yourself." Her expression softened again and she dropped her voice. "At the very least you'll be tired enough you can't unconsciously summon ice."
Jaina's lips curled into a snarl as a flare of anger blazed in her heart. She wanted to call fire but she stopped herself. She wasn't a teenager lacking in control despite her current appearance. Modera nodded, understanding rather than smirking or afraid. Solemn grey eyes met her own and Jaina felt the rush of anger fade again.
"Okay."
They didn't speak as they made their way to the classroom on the fifth floor. Jaina was grateful for that. She needed some space and the older woman seemed to understand and give that to her.
'Classroom' was a bit of a misnomer as the room was more of a practical applications lab. It was one of the most heavily fortified and warded areas in Dalaran outside of the Violet Hold and was used for experimental magic. During the Nexus War and the Cataclysm it had been used regularly by the battle-casters as they developed new spells to defeat enemies and to protect allies. Jaina hadn't been inside before, but she could feel the weight of the wards as she crossed the threshold. Modera shut the door behind them and began to cast with a few absent gestures, setting up whatever manner of monitoring she intended to have while Jaina performed like a trained monkey-
Jaina stopped the thought. It was unkind to her as well as the older archmage. Modera was an ally and more, she understood some of what Jaina was experiencing. Further, she was doing her job in getting Jaina to come down here.
Modera had probably forgotten more about battle-casting than the next-most experienced mage had learned in their lifetime. Jaina was accomplished but there were clearly gaps in her knowledge as evidenced by the fact that she'd died at the trial. She'd not thought she was an awful battle-caster, but she'd been distracted by protecting Varian and had died for it. In most of the conflicts she'd been involved in, firearms hadn't been the preferred weapons of the opposing side. Fireballs, lightning and swords she could handle. Bullets were something she apparently needed to work on.
Modera had high standard and was still alive at... however old she actually was. Jaina wasn't entirely certain anymore. The other woman had the ageless quality that mages sometimes developed. No matter her actual age, she knew her craft and she was willing to teach. Jaina was lucky to have some one-on-one evaluation time. The city was lucky to have her expertise. Jaina drew in a breath and let it out.
"I've always been reluctant to do any of this," Jaina admitted aloud. "I didn't like it. The first time Antonidas had me turn something into ash..."
"You were what, fifteen?"
Jaina nodded. "It was a bit intimidating that I could do something like that." It had given her nightmares. She was the sweet younger daughter of the Lord Admiral of Kul Tiras. Seeing the precise hole she had carved into the center of the target, the pile of ash the wood had become, had shifted her perception of reality.
"Is that why you chose ice?"
Jaina crossed her arms. "Maybe partially. Ice has always been easy. I understand water. It's versatile and mutable. It can be soft and soothing." She smile ruefully. "Or it can be a storm or blizzard. Or a tidal wave." She rubbed one arm. " You can freeze someone to take them out of combat. It's easier to be less destructive than fire." In Kul Tiras she'd been surrounded by water. The sea and all it's beauty and treachery had been part of her blood.
Modera made a thoughtful sound. "I started with Ice," she said, smirking when Jaina looked up in surprise. "Oh, I came to enjoy the various aspects and applications of the other schools, but I started with ice because I am, at my heart, a contrary bitch. The versatility and prowess of ice wasn't well respected at the time when I first arrived in Dalaran." She grinned and Jaina found herself smiling a little in return. "Iit was something else the first time you used magic not to create or conjure but to destroy, wasn't it?"
Jaina nodded. "It's probably silly."
"Not at all," Modera said as she set up targets on the far side of the room. "I'd rather a mage have a healthy respect for the power they wield than not." She gestured for Jaina to step into a runic circle at one end of the long classroom. "Stand here and we're going to start with just flat numbers. When was the last time you did an evaluation like this?"
Jaina shrugged as she stood in the circle. "I was probably twenty? This never really interested me and Antonidas never pushed me towards it."
Modera grunted. "Fair I suppose. Now, technique counts for a lot, as does training and experience. But I'd like to see what your raw brawn is."
Jaina nodded and turned towards the targets down range.
She summoned a fireball to her hand and then sent it flying to hit near the center. The flames erupted on impact sending little sparks into the air.
Modera made a scoffing noise and Jaina looked back.
"The fight you had today," Modera said. "Take that rage and use it."
Jaina frowned at her.
Modera's expression was inscrutable. "Emotion has a place in the logic of magic. Logic can crush and compact everything down. Take those emotions. All of them. The good and the bad. Take them and turn them into kindling for the fire. I imagine Veressa must have made some low blows to get you of all people to lose control even a little."
Jaina glared.
Modera's smile softened. "You don't need to be in control right now. You won't burn down the city with all this warding and I'm standing behind you. Just let it out."
Jaina looked at her for a moment longer, the annoyance fading as Modera brought up the secret fear of most sane mages; that of harming those around them with their power. Magic had to be controlled by the mage or it could control them. It had to be managed as the blues said. Norgannon's charge had mentioned joy as well, but Jaina didn't feel much of that at the moment.
She felt rage.
Rage for her people. For what Vereesa had said. At herself for being weak. At the rumors and awful things the Horde were saying about her. For the doubting voice in her head that believed it. For the part of her that didn't believe it. Jaina felt her hand clench into a fist as she let the anger and hatred and fear flow out.
The fireball sailed down range. It was greater than the previous one, but it wasn't enough. Jaina needed to be more, to be better. She'd almost been unable to stop the attack on Varian. She'd died because she wasn't good enough.
She flung a third and fourth at the target, their impacts satisfying as the sound of fire blazed around her. She drew in a deep breath and let it out as she began to hurl handfuls of fire at the target, mechanically conjuring and tossing, dialing in her aim until she struck the center every time.
Vereesa was wrong. She had to be. Everyone else in her life was supportive of this change, even if they were cautious. Even Varian! She adjusted her spell so the flame would be smaller and hotter as she pelted the target down range. She'd see. Vereesa was angry now but she'd see eventually. She had to see that Jaina wasn't wrong again. And it wasn't even Vereesa's fault she felt the way she did.
Jaina hated Garrosh for continuing to hurt everyone even if he was far. She hated him for being out of her reach. The target down range became his face and she put out his eyes with fire that was white-hot. The fire burned but it wasn't enough. It would never be enough for Garrosh. She'd lose her own soul if she went to hunt him down and she hated the truth of that. The fireballs became streaks of pure arcane energy as she drew more deeply on her manapool and sent wave after wave of bolts down range. Little bursts of violet ash and light erupted from the dummy as each blow struck.
The rush of blood filled her ears, drowning out some feral, wordless warcry as she spiraled down further into her power then drew it out in a single ribbon that coalesced into a beam of of arcane energy that blazed with eye-searing brightness.
The beam hit the target slightly to the right of the center, the wards protecting the vaguely human-shaped figure shattering under the barrage. The metal practically evaporated under the assault as it continued through the target and hit the back wall and the even heavier wards there. Jaina recognized the war cry as her own voice as she maintained the attack for an eternal second longer. The beam sliced across the figure's neck then torso in quick succession. Jaina released the cast suddenly aware of the havoc and the ragged shreds of sadness and rage in her heart. As the head and upper body fell to the floor, she let the magic go, staring at her handiwork.
There was a scorch mark on the back wall where the wards had snapped and fizzled, reacting to the attack she'd levied. The torso and head clanged as they hit the ground at nearly the same time. They sent puffs of shimmering violet ash into the air as they fell.
Jaina sank to her knees and tried to rein herself in.
Modera sat beside her and conjured a flask of water. Jaina accepted the flask and drank. She'd not really made a large dent in her manapool, but the effort of maintaining the cast, holding it down so it wouldn't flare wildly, and also handling the emotions fueling it, had been significant. If she were being honest, the emotions and feelings had been what had the most effect on how she felt.
"Find what you wanted?" Jaina asked, sounding cynical even to her own ears.
"I didn't want something from you, Jaina. At least not beyond a benchmark."
"Did I hit your expected numbers?" Jaina rephrased.
"I had no specific expectations beyond 'high'," Modera gently corrected and Jaina recognized the chastisement for what it was. "I need an idea of what you can do if only so I can adjust shields appropriately for safety sake."
Jaina bowed her head accepting that.
"You that winded?"
"No, I'll be fine," Jaina said. "It's... There was a lot from earlier. Hard to keep some control sometimes." The rage and anger swirled like stormclouds exposing glimpses of deeper sadness and fear. She'd found some small catharsis in destroying the target but less than she suspected Modera had anticipated. Certainly in this moment whatever relief she'd felt during the exercise was gone like morning mist.
"Well you did the control part beautifully," Modera said. "Perhaps even too well. I would hazard a guess sometimes it feels like forcing an entire keg of mead out of a very small tap?"
Jaina frowned thoughtfully. "It can." Jaina found it an odd question.
"Mmm. Moving troops over long distances feels easier than that incredibly deadly channeled beam of energy?"
"I suppose. I haven't cast a spell like that one before." Jaina nodded at the dismembered torso. She didn't know of one for that specific effect off the top of her head. It was an on-the-fly adjustment of something she was more familiar with in frost.
Modera's eyebrow arched, impressed if Jaina had to guess. "If I tried to cast as you did I'd be burned out in ten minutes and then be rubbish for the rest of the battle. We'll work on efficiency. As for the feeling of tightness, we'll work on getting you to unclench."
"Excuse me?" Jaina laughed out.
Modera grinned. "It's exactly what it sounds like." She crossed her legs tailor style. "Soldiers need to be trained to run into the face of the enemy. Mostly. Some people are just born being fearless or learn it before they get to training. Same with most mages who aren't combat casters. You've spent your entire life as a mage being taught to be careful with powerful spells. Battle magics are high-power, quick-reaction, high-intensity and high-emotion. You're probably the greatest power-house of your generation, Jaina. No, don't argue with me we both know it's true so stop being humble. It doesn't help here."
Jaina frowned but let her denials remain unspoken.
"And Antonidas, being the more learned mage, knew exactly how much destruction you could wreck. So he trained you to be respectful of the power, to be careful, to be thoughtful. Right?"
"Yes," Jaina answered cautiously.
"When Khadgar rolls in smelling of burned reagents or shows up to a meeting as a projected head inside a ball or when he giggles and asks what's the worst that could happen, it drives you insane, doesn't it?"
Jaina gritted her teeth. "Yes."
"Because he's not being respectful. Because the worst that could happen is fairly significant. Because he is the most powerful mage of his generation and he isn't playing by the rules."
Jaina grimaced. "I know he must respect the craft. I see flashes of it when I speak with him but-" She broke off with a little frustrated sound.
"But he falls into the absent-minded 'wackiness' and heedless boundary-pushing that seems to live hand-in-hand with a need to define the universe and order it to our own wills," Modera said.
The older mage gestured, an elegant twist of long fingers, and a fireball appeared, hovering over her hand. It was a perfect sphere of plasma, glowing like a tiny star and utterly unlike the emanations of flame Jaina had been able to summon which more closely resembled tiny campfires. Jaina opened her own senses to Modera's spell, studying the construction of a master's work.
"It's part of the dualities of magic. I think it's a bit tied into what Kalec talks about when he speaks of the Charge of the blue flight. The bit about how magic must be maintained, but how there's joy in it too." She twisted her hand from side to side, looking over the sphere of light and heat. She flicked her wrist, an almost indolent gesture, but the fireball sailed down the room with greater speed than Jaina's had with far more shoulder-wrenching throwing motions.
Jaina watched it melt a significant dent into the remains of the metal target. The little fireball had been propelled by a smaller spell and guided by others to produce something like a cannon blast, and existed for only a fraction of a moment. The spells Modera had been using to shield her hand from the heat disappeared and Jaina only noticed the subtle working fade because she'd been looking.
"I've always thought of battle magics as being... unsubtle but that-" she looked from Modera's hand to meet her eyes. The older Archmage's eyebrows were arched in amusement, yes, but Jaina was quite familiar with the look of pride in a teacher whose student is beginning to get it.
Modera summoned another fireball, then a second and third until she had three. She sent the trio swirling in orbit around one another over the palm of her hand. The ebb and flow of power was delicate and efficient. Jaina could hardly see the working because there was so little loss from every adjustment the other mage made. The charm to resist the heat generated was likewise delicate feeling but sturdy.
"The spell-latticework is something I learned when I was much younger and have been able to refine over the years. I know it doesn't look like it should work but it does," Modera said. "It is precise and orderly and actually fairly pretty if I shove enough power in there to make it visible. And yet it lasts for all of a fraction of a second. The fire is conjured, the epitome of order as long as I control it. Once it hits the target, fire is fire and will act as such unless I impose my will again." She shook her hand and the little fireballs dissipated into little puffs of smoke and accompanying fwooshes of air. "Magic has a great number of dualities which have always been fascinating to me. How we can conjure food for an army or turn that same army into ash on the winds."
"Impertinent as he is, Khadgar does respect magic, but perhaps not as much as you or I believe he should." Modera continued, "There are a few things at work there and I am reasonably confident I can speak with authority on at least two. The first is that he copes with the knowledge he could rip Dalaran from the sky or turn entire villages into ash by making light of things. He is deep into his own personal joy of magic and discovery and allows that to help shield him from the reality of his own absolutely destructive abilities. The final confrontation with Medivh did more to shape him than just physically age him a few decades," Modera said candidly. "The other is that he's often rejected the Kirin Tor for being too rigid and too elitist and too... hidebound. Because Khadgar is also a contrary bitch," she said the last grinning at Jaina.
"And on that I think we three are alike a little. You left Dalaran and did your own thing as a mage on your own terms. That isn't a slight," she said holding up a hand when Jaina began to protest. "I happen to agree with you both about some of the rigidity. But my place was here being a contrary voice just as yours was in Theramore and Khadgar's was leaving this world altogether."
Jaina inclined her head. She chuckled, "I think you're building to a point?"
"Sassy!" Modera laughed. "But fine. The point is, you might have thrown off the social shackles of your training and I know for a fact you can absolutely lose yourself in research with the best of them, Archmage Proudmoore." She winked at Jaina then her expression sobered slightly. "But you've never fully been able to step away from the little voice in your head that probably sounds like Antonidas or a much younger you, or both, that tells you to hold back."
"I am supposed to wield with control and precision." Magic was about order and logic. Control was essential in not only safety but in understanding the rules.
Modera held up a hand. "Yes but you don't use the same sort of control you did as an apprentice."
"If anything I should use more." Jaina frowned at her.
"More isn't always better. You're trying to rein yourself in too much which is actively hurting you in the long run. You also have a hell of a lot of power at your disposal and those fireballs? Destructive and large but lossy and inefficient for sustained casting. Horrible if you're trying to hold yourself back. You changed from the big flames to smaller, higher energy strikes which is absolutely working in the right direction; synergy of control and power."
Jaina frowned. Modera smiled.
"You're a decent battle-mage, truly. I'd love to have twenty of you as back-line casters. You're good but you could be better. We haven't gotten to the non-magical training yet, which is the area you're lacking in, but magic-wise you're alternately fighting yourself and relying on an absurdly deep manapool. It's not uncommon. Ansirem actually had the same problem. So did Antonidas." The older mage shrugged and began to reset the far side of the range with idle casting. "If you don't want to continue after we go over the non-magical gaps in your education I won't be offended, but I know I can help you improve on your battle casting if you wish."
"To what end?" Jaina asked. "Why-" she shook her head and sighed. "There are a lot of good reasons to know this, aren't there?"
"Many and not just battlefield applications either." Modera got to her feet and brushed off her leggings. "Care to give it a try for right now?"
"I suppose it can't hurt," Jaina said. "Do you think I could learn to make those plasma spheres?"
"I bet you could crown yourself with ten orbiting your head if you wanted," Modera said.
Jaina rolled her eyes. Modera's gaze was steady.
"When you were an apprentice you took your lessons to heart as you should have. You learned the rigid control you needed then. But you aren't the same child you were when you came at ten, Jaina. You grew up. You've learned more, seen more and done more, lived more. Your mana pool isn't nearly the same size it was when you were a child either. So I want you to stop limiting yourself like one."
Jaina eyed her askance then looked at the warding in the room then back. Modera's expression hadn't changed a bit.
"You're a full Archmage of the Kirin Tor, but in this you're stuck thinking and casting like a child of ten," the older woman told her, her voice carrying far more of the gruff, clipped cadence of a drill sergeant. "Know the full extent of your power. You should not be afraid of what you can do. Respect it, but don't fear it. Adjust the control and power that are required for the situation." She nodded at the range. "Now, pretend the remains of that dummy down there needs to be eradicated and destroy it."
Jaina formed another fireball and sent it down range.
"Again."
Scowling, Jaina sent another fireball sailing down range.
"Again. Hotter."
Jaina sent another.
"Faster."
Jaina sent three in succession, trying to recreate what she'd seen in Modera's spell. They were blobby-looking comets but more controlled than her previous fireballs had been and more concentrated.
"Arcane," Modera ordered.
The switch tripped Jaina up for a moment. She sent pulses of arcane energy shooting down the range.
"Ice shards," was the next order. Followed by more fire then arcane and ice. The rotation's duration and the school of magic had some variation so she couldn't think too far ahead. If she slowed down from the pace Modera had deemed appropriate, the archmage called for her to be faster.
Jaina stopped trying to plan and just focused on her casting, allowing herself to pivot when the next call came. It was frustrating at first to be constantly told to be faster, to change schools, to be unable to cast when she was ready. Jaina stopped trying to anticipate and just started to react. The spells came easier than expected if she simply sank into the exercise. She realized, distantly, it wasn't entirely unlike when she meditated with her candle in the morning. The calls came and Jaina supplied what was appropriate, sending it down range. There was a simplicity in not thinking about the intricacies of her spellwork. She knew these spells well even if they were not ones she used often. Trusting her knowledge Jaina cast fire, arcane, ice and again and again.
"Good," Modera said, "Ice!" and so the exercise continued.
Modera began calling spells in a set order though she left the duration variable allowing Jaina to plan a little bit ahead. She began trying to better mimic Modera's spells again. She felt she was making progress with fire and began to experiment with Ice and Arcane, trying to use less energy to get the same effect or to focus in different ways than she'd done so before. Smirking to herself, Jaina even drew deeply to unleash some heftier blasts than she'd ever used before - actual combat was not the time to experiment. She could feel the drain on her energy now and was wondering when Modera would call an end when the older mage told her to stop.
"Shake it out, take a breather. Water?" Modera said offering Jaina a conjured flask.
Jaina accepted the water with a murmur of thanks. "So?"
"Much better," Modera said as she read from a slate. "Feeling the workout?"
Jaina nodded and rolled her shoulders.
"Feeling a bit better?"
Jaina drew in a breath and let it out. The smile she gave Modera was probably more wince than anything. "I was able to put it out of my mind for a bit. What Vereesa said, I mean." Jaina frowned at the target downrange then looked back at the other mage. "Modera? Are we doing the right thing?" Jaina gestured to the rest of the city beyond the walls of the practice room. "Are we literally inviting trouble back into our home? Do you think this could be the wrong course of action?"
Modera's eyebrows lifted. "No, I do not."
"Even with the potential for danger? Tragedy?"
"Even so," Modera said, crossing her arms and frowning. "I suppose that might sound strange coming from my corner."
Jaina's smile was a more genuine this time. "Actually it makes me feel a bit better, to be honest." She'd been peaceful and had advocated for war and so people listened, Modera had told her. Modera was a warmage and agreed with peace. There was some relief from her fear in that. Possibly people would listen again.
Modera's eyes narrowed as she glanced away then turned her gaze back to Jaina. "Might I have your word of confidence in something, Archmage?"
Jaina drew herself straighter. "Of course."
Modera smirked and waved dismissively. "Light, girl, at ease." She waited until Jaina relaxed, her smile softening then fading away entirely. She turned her head and looked into the distance. "I've been called 'paranoid' quite often in my life, but it's not paranoia if you're right." Modera's fingers tapped on her arm and she pursed her lips again. "I've never been one to make prophecies. Mostly, I rely on my gut instinct, and mostly I'm right. Been that way since I can remember. My master, bastard he was," she said with a fond smile, "had the same problem. I think that's why he took me on despite everything in my situation."
Situation? Jaina wondered.
Modera caught Jaina's inquisitive look and waved a dismissive hand. "Politics of the time which are irrelevant now. But I always seem to get a sense of the storms on the horizon. Big events. It itches in the back of my mind until it finally makes landfall. It's why I stayed here. Why I teach. Why I want good mages to be amazing. I've been meditating on whatever is coming since we first spoke of it a few weeks ago." She arched an eyebrow at Jaina.
Jaina nodded, recalling the conversation in Jaina's former apartment right after Garrosh's trial. It had been the first time they'd really spoken candidly to one another and a positive turning point in their relationship as colleagues, and, Jaina thought, the beginning of a friendship. "I remember."
She looked back in the same direction she'd been looking before, her eyes glowing blue with power.
"I've had storms loom and lull all my long life, but they were never the one I knew I needed to be really concerned about. I told you I thought the feeling would ease every time one of our recent large conflicts ended, but it hasn't. I know catching Garrosh won't change that record." She blew the fringe out of her eyes with a huffed breath. "This is finally the big one, Jaina, the one that has been creeping up since I was an apprentice. It sure as helheim isn't another fight with the Horde."
The Legion lay unspoken between them. Jaina followed Modera's gaze and realized she was looking in the direction of Dalaran's original location.
"Our ancient protections have been systematically destroyed. The Guardian, the Aspects, the Keepers, the jails holding Old Gods, Ancient Titan devices. Possibly more things we don't know about," Modera said, sending a chill down Jaina's spine. It could be coincidence or the natural decay of time. But then again...
"The alliances we have aren't what they once were. Lordaeron and Alterac are dead and Stromgarde isn't much better. Gilneas is a mess. The Dwarves are one tavern brawl away from civil war and we're on rocky ground with Quel'thalas. We're practiced at war but we're weakened. The Horde is a mess and was nearly shattered, Jaina. We're weak. As a planetary force, we're weak. I want the Horde mage powerhouses back and on friendly terms. Or at least disinclined to shoot us in the back when what comes for us all lands on our shores." Her lips thinned into a line as she was silent for a few moments.
"So no, I don't think reintegration is a bad idea, Archmage. It isn't an easy idea given the weight of history." She turned those glowing eyes at Jaina. "But right now I'm more concerned about the future, so the past is going to have to work itself out."
Vereesa stalked away from Jaina's office, her feet knowing the way even as her mind was going over and over the past few minutes in detail. She knew what she'd said had hurt the other woman; Vereesa had intended for the words to hurt, hardening her heart as each savage blow landed. Had she meant any of it? Possibly. Probably. In the moment, certainly.
She'd not intended to go to the office looking for a conflict. Vereesa had only wanted her friend to see the truth again. Jaina had been so clear-headed this past year. They'd made such progress and they hadn't needed the Horde and their devious, underhanded, savage ways.
Why had Jaina turned on her? Why was everyone obsessed with an impossible idea? Why were they so open to letting treachery into their very homes? Hadn't Rhonin's fate been enough of a lesson?
She stomped up the stairs to her apartment automatically, mind going over all the things she'd said to Jaina. Vereesa scowled as she opened her front door.
"Mom!"
Her boys ran for her, hitting with enough impact she had to take half a step back. They began to tell her all about their day, twin voices in excited stereo.
"We were learning about-"
"And then we got yelled at for talking-"
They were tall enough they could hug her waist rather than her legs. They were getting so big! And their father would miss everything.
"And Giramar was being so boring-"
"I was not!"
"And he read all recess again!"
"Why is what so bad?"
"But we read all day in school!"
They'd had such little time together as a family. Why had he shoved Jaina out of the way? Why hadn't he left that selfish old maid to share the fate of her people? Why had he left her alone with their sons?
"Yeah-huh!"
"Nuh-uh!"
"Yeah-huh!"
"Nuh-uh!"
"Boys," Vereesa groaned rubbing at her temple. How many times had she and her sister fought like that. Her sisters were gone now, too. Rhonin hadn't had family so it was just them but it had been fine! And then Garrosh had taken Rhonin away. And Jaina had lived, though her people were gone as well.
They'd become such good friends and had understood one another when it seemed the rest of the world couldn't understand their pain. Garrosh's actions, awful as they had been, were distant, impersonal events. Jaina had understood. Her sons had begun to call Jaina "auntie" and the mage had adored that because she didn't have her own family.
Maybe that was why she was fine putting everyone else at risk, a vicious part of Vereesa whispered.
Inviting the Horde back to kill and maim more families. More children. There had been such pain in Jaina's eyes as she's listened to Vereesa but it had served her right? Hadn't it?
"Mom!"
"Mom!"
"Mom!"
"Mom!"
"Stop pestering me I am trying to think!" Vereesa snapped, overwhelmed by the insistent cheer of her boys and the turmoil of her own thoughts. She blinked in shock at her own harsh tone.
Quiet, sensitive Giramar looked up at her eyes wide, jaw dropped. His twin wore almost the same expression. Then his eyes rimmed in tears and he ran. From her. His brother shot her a fearful glare and followed after Giramar.
Vereesa watched them go, again shocked by her own actions.
She'd frightened her children.
Vereesa had sworn she would never turn her anger and sorrow on her boys. She closed her eyes and fought back a frustrated scream, stifling it with a shaking hand. Stomach roiling she braced a hand against the wall. The boys, so full of life and joy despite the loss of their father - and her sadness - had stopped her from taking Sylvanas' offer of becoming undead herself. Her boys had given her reason to go on after so much had been taken from her. Her boys, who she'd left behind in the safety of Dalaran when she went to war on Thunder Isle. She'd missed them and had missed time with them because of her need to strike back at Garrosh Hellscream and his Horde.
They ran from her now. Because of that same anger.
A few hot tears of shame and frustration fell onto the hand still pressed over her mouth. The boys were silent further in the house; a sure sign they were afraid and Vereesa felt sick.
Her eyes fell on the family portrait that had been done a few years ago. The last one they would ever have as a family. The artist had been quite good and, though her husband had grumbled initially, he'd sat and helped her wrangle their two wiggling sons to sit still for the seated sessions. It had been fun, actually. The boys hadn't liked the whole experience but she and Rhonin had enjoyed some time to just sit together and talk as they hadn't in far too long. The artist had captured Rhonin's laugh lines and his kindness and strength. He'd been firm in discipline but had never raised a hand or his voice to their sons.
He wouldn't have approved of her behavior in Jaina's office or with their sons. Vereesa wasn't happy with herself either. The burning hate had cooled in the instant she'd seen her son start to cry, leaving her nauseated and hollow.
"I need help," she said into the silent room, the words creaking.
No ghost answered her nor any vision. She didn't miraculously feel better. But it was the truth and with it came a small spark of determination to fix things with her children and then... then maybe she'd see what might happen next.
Tracking down the boys was easy. Vereesa took that as a good sign. They were in their room, both sitting together on Giramar's bed. They stopped talking when she appeared. She rapped on the edge of their doorframe.
"May I come in?"
They nodded, still silent, eyes still tear filled. She sat with them and pulled them into a hug.
"I am sorry I yelled at you," she said, kissing each on the forehead. "That was wrong of me." She tightened her arms around their shoulders. She kissed away their tears and reassured they were loved and had done nothing wrong. She was the one at fault. Her sons were young enough they didn't seem to be comfortable with the idea of their mother being wrong, but there were fewer tears now.
"I haven't been very kind this year, have I?" she mused aloud, more to herself than her sons.
"You haven't really been home, mommy," Galadin said. It wasn't said to hurt her, though it did. She'd been off on a campaign of hate and war and hadn't been home much. She'd missed bedtimes and talks about what they were learning and what they were discovering about the world and themselves.
Vereesa held them tighter. She'd tried not to let things affect her sons and she'd thought she'd been successful. She hadn't been, she realized. She kissed their foreheads.
"I am going to fix that. I've been heartsick, boys."
"If you're sick you should see a healer," Giramar said, speaking up for the first time since she'd yelled at them.
Her throat ached and she needed a moment before she could speak. It still came out gravelly. "You are absolutely right," she told him. "And I am going to do just that. So why don't we start this evening over okay? Tell me about what you learned with your teachers?"
They started off quietly but were soon back to their usual boisterous selves. Only then did Vereesa relax a bit. She would spend time with her sons and then... Then she would apologize to the other person she'd hurt today and if it was still availible, she'd take Jaina up on her offer of help.