Jaina woke around dawn, though the overcast skies blocked much of the sun's light. She stretched in bed then sank into her pillows with a sigh. Kalec was sprawled beside her, taking full advantage of the new bed's larger size. He mumbled as she rose then curled into a ball, stealing the covers as he did. Jaina got ready for her morning. Kalec woke up by the time she was just about finished dressing for the day.
"Meet for lunch?" he asked. "Can start on the-" he broke off to yawn then continued -"project you didn't get to start yesterday."
"If you're awake by then," she teased.
He snorted a laugh and yawned again as he rubbed his face. "I'll be awake."
"That sounds lovely. I made a list of books I want to pull from the library. If you wouldn't mind getting them for me that would help." She kissed him then danced away with a laugh when he tried to pull her back into bed. "I'll see you at lunch."
One notice marked as important awaited her when she arrived at her office. The second letter bore the seal of the Horde in bright red wax. Jaina came to a stop, her heart immediately beating faster.
What would Vol'jin say? Were all her plans ruined already? Was he willing to speak?
She started as a crack and pop deposited another letter in her inbox, this one sealed with the crest of Stormwind, but specifically Anduin's smaller seal. Jaina drew in a breath and let it out. She set her morning tea aside and opened Anduin's letter.
"Haven't convinced Tess of the larger goals. Asked her, hypothetically, about Dalaran. She doesn't think it's her business. She's become... interesting. More later.
-Anduin."
Short and... not very informative. Jaina set the letter aside and looked at the other two. She snatched up Vol'jin's letter before she could think about it too much more and opened the seal.
The letter was short and to the point. He would meet with her on Theramore Isle tomorrow, mid morning. No indication of how he felt otherwise. At worst he would tell her no to her face, but he could have done that in a letter. Jaina took another calming breath and sent an affirmative response then set the letter aside. She got back to her work and hoped Anduin wasn't getting into trouble again somehow.
Another letter popped into her inbox. This letter was... damp and dirty and was not sealed but her name was written on the front in Anduin's neat letters. Frowning, Jaina opened the note.
"Made progress. I think. When I said T has become interesting before, it doesn't cover the half of it. Don't worry everything is fine. Probably helped our cause. Please do me a huge favor and if my father asks if you've seen me, we had tea in Dalaran last night and I was absolutely nowhere near the docks.
Love, A."
Jaina sighed at the message and sent a letter of her own.
"The price for doing what you ask is tea here within the week so I can hear the full story. Don't get into too much trouble."
Her message sent, she dove into the day's work so she wouldn't think about her meeting with Vol'jin. Kalec arrived just as the bells began to strike noon.
"Already?" she questioned.
"Already. I pulled those books from your list," he said holding up a satchel. "And I bought lunch. I hope you don't mind roasted chicken," he said holding up basket. "It smelled good."
Smiling Jaina grinned and set aside her work. They moved to the little seating area and Jaina tucked into her food, eating quickly so she could get to the books sooner. "Did you read any of them? Any thoughts?" she asked as she ate.
"The book on Atiesh was interesting but mostly history. You'll probably get more from seeing the real thing."
"I was hoping some of the theory would be in there as a basis when I go visit Khadgar. He's busy preparing to assault Ner'zhul in Shadowmoon valley. I'll pester him with trivial things when that situation is resolved." She finished her meal, cleaned her hands and then held them out for the books.
Kalec handed them over with a laugh. "Would it help to see the framework I use?"
"Yes, actually!" she smiled. "I thought it was something you were just able to do."
"It is," Kalec said. "Another gift from the Titans to our race, but we know the structure of the magic even if it is inherent." He frowned thoughtfully. "I might have to do some translation. I know the structure using our runes."
"I could learn those," she offered. "I've already started with a few."
Kalec smiled and began to write out sigils and formulae on some paper while Jaina read the very scant report on the "Vial of the Sands" as the artifact was called. She followed that by paging through the book on Atiesh, chuckling at the side comments which had been made in the margins by Khadgar.
She lost track of time and continued to make notes. Kalec bid her goodbye at some point to utilize their lab's larger space to display his work. Jaina absently kissed him goodbye then resumed her own note taking.
"Jaina!"
Startled, Jaina's pen scratched a bold line across her paper. She looked up to find Modera standing across from her, one hand holding a bundle of fabric, the other hand on her hip. The older mage smirked at her.
"You found a project?"
Jaina smiled. "I did."
"Good." Modera tossed the bundle of fabric onto the couch beside Jaina. "Class is in ten minutes. You'll want to change."
"It can't possibly be-" Jaina broke off mid-sentence as she saw the time. She'd spent most of the afternoon doing research. "Oh." She looked at Modera in alarm. "I can't. I've spent too much time on this and I shouldn't have."
"You're fine. Nothing important came in or someone would have come looking for you," Modera said in a reasonable tone. Jaina looked at her desk and saw that while she hadn't handled the tasks she'd intended to do today, nothing new had appeared.
"Come on," Modera said. "Karlain's in his office. You can spare a couple hours."
Jaina relented with a small sigh. "Okay."
Modera had picked out a set of the light armor the Kirin Tor's Defender's wore. As Jaina changed, the older archmage cautioned her that she might want to get a set more to her liking if she ended up in the thick of things more often. Jaina didn't want to be in the thick of things but she had to admit she'd been there often enough. Perhaps the light leather would be better than any of her usual outfits.
Modera's class was being held in the ruins of the crystallized forest below instead of inside the Violet Citadel. Since the danger of Ice Crown had passed, Dalaran had begun to use the grounds below the city for many purposes to augment the space inside the Citadel. Jaina looked around as they exited the portal from the city to the ground.
Other mages went about their research in studying the ruins or just using the relatively close location and open space to their advantage for larger experiments. Another class of much younger students was being held in a cleared area. They had a practice yard which had been cleared for this such purpose and rune-clad obelisks were placed at regular intervals to facilitate some order and to keep the destruction to a minimum. The younger students were practicing lifting objects with magic and summoning items. As much as Jaina was glad to see them she noticed that citywide their numbers were fewer than in previous years. She set her jaw and followed Modera down the rocky path. What she was doing would hopefully see those numbers increase.
Modera's class was milling about another cleared area, though this one was less defined than the other. There were a few other spaces beyond this one which had been created amid the ruins and crystallized trees. In some ways, it reminded her of the classroom areas in the Nexus Kalec had shown to her. Jaina smiled a little at that thought.
The mages here were all past their apprenticeships but they varied in age. They noticed when Modera arrived and the older ones all broke off their conversations while some of the younger ones, noting the reactions of the veterans, quieted as well. Modera waved them away and the vets relaxed and resumed their conversations while the other newer people awkwardly shuffled their feet.
Jaina saw a few familiar faces in the group including Algus Finch. He looked less than pleased to be present, but was prepared all the same. He wore a long light leather duster which had seen some use in battle if the runes embroidered and embossed into the material were anything to judge by. He inclined his head to her then resumed his conversation. Jaina was surprised to see him wearing protective gear but then recalled that Finch had also fought in the conflict with Deathwing. Jaina was hardly alone in wearing the standard gear for the Defenders. A few of the other magi and a couple of the archmages also wore the standard outfits. There were perhaps eight people present, nine including Jaina, and the size of the group was smaller than she expected.
"Right," Modera said quietly as she herded Jaina to the side. "New and returning faces in this group, so you're hardly the only one who hasn't been here before. For you we're going to work on the things I said before when I had you down for evaluation; your stamina, your reaction time, and getting you out of your own head and more aware of the rest of the battle. You've been solid as a caster on the backlines and on the front in a pinch but let's fill the gaps in what you know. You're a fast learner so I expect we'll be able to get into the really fun parts of battlecasting." She grinned, fierce and genuine. "There are some fascinating synergies once you've drilled to the point you don't need to think and the reactions are instant."
Jaina nodded, frowning slightly.
"Just roll with it for now and don't worry. That's why I do these training classes; so we're prepared and can worry about other, far more important things."
"Okay."
"Good." Modera stepped back and called out to the rest, raising her voice. "Line up, you lot."
Jaina fell into line between Finch and a younger brown-haired magi Jaina recognized as one who'd be deployed to Lunarfall soon. Lucithy nodded and murmured a polite greeting to Jaina as she banished her conjured mug of coffee. Jaina returned the nod and then turned her attention with the rest to Modera.
"Every class begins with stamina training. See those rocks?" She pointed to a haphazard collection of rocks on one side of the area. They ranged in size from perhaps a few kilos to something which almost certainly was more than a hundred. "Stand by the biggest rock you can lift with your magic for an extended period of time. One mage to a rock. Go."
Jaina blinked. Lifting rocks? She hadn't lifted rocks with magic since her very earliest days learning how to manipulate magic that way. Antonidas had favored ceramic cups and buckets of water; compensating for the sloshing about was more important than strength alone and an unwary mage could crush what they held if they were not careful.
Jaina drifted over and found an appropriately sized rock. She didn't know what the time frame for 'extended' meant but she decided while she could easily haul up the largest of the boulders, she wasn't certain for how long and this was Archmage Modera. She waited for their next set of instructions as Modera walked by, sometimes redirecting a mage to a larger or smaller rock. Modera stopped by Jaina and shook her head. She pointed at a rock easily twice the size of the one Jaina had chosen. Jaina arched an eyebrow in question but Modera just smirked.
"Push a little," Modera said, pitching her voice for just Jaina then continued down the line. Jaina went to the larger rock, ending up near Finch again. When Modera reached the end she nodded. "You will now conjure a single cup of tea in a saucer."
The veterans, including Finch, groaned and did so. Jaina blinked but did as she was bid. Clearly this was a signal to them of some kind while the rocks were not.
"Balance the tea on the rock," Modera ordered.
Jaina set the tea down.
"Without spilling the tea, lift the rock with magic. Make it a good spell because we're going to be moving. And," she held up a forestalling finger with a small smile, "no spells on the teacup itself. The goal is to hold the rock steady."
Jaina shared a slightly bemused look with Lucithy, then lifted her rock. It was heavy but not overly so. She'd been lifting heavy things while she and Kalec had recently moved, so recalling the proper spells to maintain a steady, stable grip wasn't too hard.
"Tomorrow you'll be doing this with weights," Modera advised. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Finch's shoulders droop. "And now we're going for a run. Keep up!"
It was harder than Jaina had expected. Modera started them down a path away from the class areas and into the ruins and surrounding forest. Lucithy, ahead of Jaina, tripped over a crystallized root and nearly lost her balance. Jaina grabbed her elbow to steady her before she fell. The younger mage smiled thanks, pink tinging her cheeks. Her rock bobbed a bit in the air, threatening to spill her tea but the Magi got her power under control quickly. Jaina took it as an indication to watch her own footing.
"Keep up!" Modera called, leading by example as she held her own tea cup and large rock. She continued at a steady ground-eating trot.
Jaina didn't run often. She didn't think herself unfit but she didn't run. Running was time she could have been spending doing any number of far more interesting things like reading or experimenting or even paperwork. She didn't indulge in all the sweets Kalec did because she didn't like running, or exercising really, so she tried to eat well so she didn't need to. It freed up more precious time for books or discussing magic with Kalec or doing her job. Jaina wondered if Modera would have Kalec do this. What size rock would he need to lift for the Archmage to be satisfied? Something the size of Dalaran? Would she have him trot about in his dragon form? At least the course wasn't a mindless, monotonous circle.
Jaina missed a rock and stumbled a few steps, the rock and teacup both sloshing in the air as she lost focus. Jaina caught herself and her cargo and, feeling her cheeks burn as she fought off the edge of panic, she resumed her trot.
Ah. This was the point. Not just stamina but keeping her mind able to be aware of her surroundings as well as maintaining the spells.
Somewhat beside her, Finch had relaxed into a sort of glazed expression, the moderately size boulder and balanced teacup rock solid in his grasp at a precise point to his side and ahead of him. The rock wasn't as large as she'd expected but then no one's was, she realized as she looked around and this time avoided another root that Lucithy hadn't quite managed to miss.
Like Finch, there were other repeat takers of this particular class, most of them battlemages, but as promised there were clearly more senior newer people who didn't know quite what they'd gotten themselves into. Due to their position, potential to be in the vicinity of battle, or according to some other esoteric set of requirements Modera used, they were here. Jaina was one but there was another Draenei archmage who was clattering about on her hooves as well as Jaina was. Jaina couldn't recall her name, but knew she worked with Karlain.
By the time they returned to the classroom area, Jaina's legs and lungs were burning. Finch was likewise winded for all he was familiar with this particular brand of Modera's insanity. Lucithy staggered a few steps,at the end, only then did her teacup slosh out and over the rock. The younger mage let out a growled string of curses which were inventive to say the least. She wasn't the only one as the end drew near and the limits of mental and physical strength started to really dig claws into the class of mages.
Modera led them into a loose semi-circle of mostly huffing and definitely sweatier mages and plucked her teacup off her rock. The rock settled to the ground and everyone else took that as a signal to do the same. Finch downed his tea and sat on his rock. Jaina did the same.
"Magic is a muscle. You exercise it and it becomes stronger, your manapool deeper, and your ability to handle more energy becomes more secured," Modera said as she strode around, somehow still on her feet. The battlemages were relaxing as well but there was a very sharp difference between those who'd done this many times before, probably voluntarily on their off time, and those who did not. The latter were flushed and breathing far more heavily.
"But a mage draws on themself for that energy and control. On the field of battle you will be, hopefully, with allies. Many of those allies will be soldiers and warriors in leather armor or plate. Let's not even get into the druids who'll just shift and bound ahead as a stag or a cat or an oversized owl or something Druid-y," Modera said with a wry brow arch. There was a low murmur of laughter from the group.
"We laugh but we do need to keep up with our allies. So. We'll run. Anyone new care to tell me what the point of this particular drill is?"
"You're an evil and vindictive woman," Finch called over.
"That too!" Modera countered with a feral grin.
Jaina raised her hand as did the draenei and Lucithy. Modera pointed at the other human mage.
"Multitasking," Lucity said.
"Exactly!" Modera said. "Battlefield awareness is key to survival," she said, her eyes resting on Jaina for a long second before she continued. "We have power and we can bring a lot to bear against terrible foes, but we can't do a damn thing if we're dead. Don't get tunnel vision. Don't let your mind wander. I'm going to be saying that a lot. If I feel you're tuning me out, Broka, I will not hesitate to correct your behavior."
A dwarf battle mage on the end of the line who'd been hauling a rock half his size straightened up. So did a few others. Jaina sat more upright.
"That's enough rest. Time for some practical applications!" Modera said, grinning.
Target practice was their rocks. Jaina suspected at some point Modera would have them digging up replacements but she set hers up with the rest and began to hurl flame at her target. She tried to emulate the elegant fireball spell she'd seen Modera use before, and saw that many of the senior battlemages around her used something similar when they used fire. The call to switch to Arcane was made and Jaina did so, trying to bring the ideas behind the fireball to the different school. Everyone seemed to fair a bit better here - this was magic, not stumbling about on a path.
Jaina felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle then a surge of energy to her left. There was a bright flash of purple light and half of the rock beside Jaina's disintegrated.
"Oh," Lucithy said, blinking at what remained of her rock. She smirked a little. "Well, that worked."
"See what you can do when you put your mind to the work and not to sassing?" Modera called over.
Lucithy smirked. "My mind's always in it," she called back as she lobbed another hair-raising attack on her rock. She stepped back with a small "heh" and nearly lost her balance on the uneven ground.
"Learn to walk then you can sass me," Modera said mildly as she passed by. "Jaina! No slacking! Try to show up little miss attitude here." Modera walked off but Lucity covertly stuck her tongue out at Modera's back before she resumed her drilling.
Jaina resumed her own drills against the rock, and, as instructed, tried to obliterate it. It mostly worked, but while it was impressive, it took too long to charge up to that level of power and then cost. She found she could go about it with some adaptation - watching the experienced battlemages gave her the idea of how to tweak what she'd seen just a bit. What it lacked in overwhelming force, it made up in volume.
Then Modera had them do more of the rapid fire drilling, trying to trip them up by calling for different things as they fired attack after attack at the targets. She'd ended the day by having everyone hold sustained channels until they couldn't anymore. Modera had studied them all, giving tips to those using excessive power on how to be more efficient the next time. Those with smaller manapools had dropped out early. Jaina and a few of the other battlecasters had continued onwards for a much longer time until Modera had called the end.
By the end of the class, Jaina was exhausted. She couldn't recall the last time she ached from such physical exertion.
Well... Okay. She felt her cheeks heat as she recalled certain activities she'd recently been able to partake in on a regular basis. While that might have been good for her stamina she wasn't certain she'd have been up for anything of the like anytime soon. Maybe after a nap. Maybe cuddling instead.
Jaina trudged down the hall to her residence, feet dragging, the lure of her nice, hot, bathtub the only thing keeping her placing one foot in front of the other. Eventually she made it to her home. Jaina sighed in the doorway as she realized she would have to cross the expanse of her apartment. But she would persist. The armor was hot and sweaty and she was probably disgusting. Sweat made her scalp itch. After lobbing massive amounts of power with "great rapidity" Modera had made them run again, this time lobbing small, single target attacks at a target in the center of the circular track.
Jaina groaned and closed the door behind her.
And she would be subjected to this again.
"You're home!" Kalec greeted, his smile broad, eyes shining. His expression fell as she fell into his chest, letting her arms just her sides. "You okay?"
Jaina huffed a noise that was part groan and part soft sob.
Kalec stroked soft fingers through her now grimey and rubble-filled hair. "Hot shower or a bath?"
"Bath."
"Okay." He kissed her forehead. "Want me to carry you?" he asked with just a hint of mischief.
Jaina considered that for a long, weary moment, then finally nodded. Kalec picked her up as if she weighed nothing and carried her to their bedroom. He left her to strip out of the gear and ran the bathwater. She hadn't quite finished stripping when he returned and gentle hands helped her ease out of the rest of the armor and then somehow she'd ended up in the warm bathwater, though she didn't recall crossing the distance.
The water was perfectly warm and he'd dumped in some of the bath oils she liked. He'd probably dumped in a bit more than she'd have used but she sniffed a little, eyes burning even as she smiled at the gesture. Jaina sank down until the water was above her collarbone and rested her head against a folded towel he'd left. He left her alone for a little bit then came back with what looked like wine but turned out to be chilled juice. Jaina drank a little then sank back, eyes lifted to the ceiling and the mosaic depicting the daytime sky. Kalec settled beside her, arms crossed on the rim of the tub, chin on his arms.
Jaina lifted a hand out of the water and brushed his cheek. "Thanks."
He smiled. "Sure. Modera really worked you hard huh?"
Jaina drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, sighing. She made a wordless noise of assent.
"That the only thing?" Kalec asked.
Jaina rolled her head towards his and sniffed once, smiling again and finding the fingers of one of his hands. He let her take it and waited while she collected her thoughts.
"It's..." Jaina's voice faded for a moment. "It's the dust. At first it wasn't a problem because we were using fire and ice. Then we used arcane and some of the mages in the group can just... There's nothing left but violet dust and rubble." She swallowed. "And sometimes there isn't even rubble."
Kalec crooned gently and kissed her temple.
Jaina sniffed again. "And it didn't bother me at first but then I could hear the impacts as the strikes landed," she said, her voice falling to a hoarse whisper. "And she kept pushing us to change schools and keep up. She kept demanding more power even as we ran like the Legion was behind us." Her voice was shaking now. So were her hands.
Jaina drew in a breath and let it stutter out. "I've done this before. I've fought before. It's silly to be reminded of- of what happened." She tried to calm her racing heart. "I was find on Thunder Isle," she said, her voice very small. Jaina frowned. "Well... There was a moment I thought we might have lost Vereesa."
Kalec kissed her temple. "I don't think it's silly. Maybe you had more time to think about what was going on because it wasn't a life or death situation."
"Could be. I'll be okay," she said, though as she said it, she realized it was more for her own benefit. "I'll be okay. I am okay. Practice is good. Means I can't have this sort of reaction when it counts."
Kalec nuzzled her again.
"She made us run," Jaina said, changing the topic with a groan. "I hate running."
Kalec chuckled. "It's good to build up stamina," he said. "And if you still want to try to shapeshift you'll need every advantage to make it work efficiently."
"Mmm," Jaina agreed. "I suppose that's fair. Wouldn't want to shapeshift and then have to sleep for a day before we can go flying." She frowned. "Will I have to learn or will I just know?"
Kalec grinned. "There will be some learning to do and some instinctive things. I wrote up notes for you when you're ready."
Jaina made a pensive sound and sat up in the tub. She sank back with a groan as muscles protested. She pursed her lips then looked askance at Kalec. "Could you bring the notes in here?"
He grinned and wagged his eyebrows at her then rose to go retrieve the notes. Jaina grinned and sank back into the tub. She summoned enough energy to lift a hand to the water controls and added more warm water.
The world tree was exactly as reported. Vol'jin noted this absently as his wyvern approached the island. Smaller than others of its breed, but still massive enough, it was clearly unlike other trees. He drew in a breath and listened to the laughing winds. The loa here were full of boisterous energy but while they felt like dancing, they had no words for him. He snorted a laugh and focused on the island, directing his wyvern to circle at a leisurely pace outside of Theramore's direct airspace.
The ruined walls had been partially covered with grass and creeping ivy. A large green dragon snoozed in the sun on top of one such wall, their head shaded by a small sapling. He could see druids gathered here and there, a visible hodgepodge of races and cultures. They spotted the incoming party from Orgrimmar and watched with wary body language. A large owl slid into formation with the rest of the group. It eyed him with intelligent eyes - a shape shifted druid. He nodded politely. The druid kept a wary distance before breaking off to sail ahead and land in a clearing.
Vol'jin gestured to his companions and brought his wyvern in to land before where the northern gates had once been. He left his mount with his people and walked through at the head of a small guard formation, Hurin Plainswalker a step to his right.
A strange chill ran down the Warchief's spine as he passed through the ruined gates. Wood beams and scaffolding had been constructed over the gates but green vines, larger and more lush than would have been natural, had begun to grow upwards and over them. These were the gates the Horde had stormed in their feint before the bomb had dropped. He had been among the leaders present who had assaulted this location the day of the attack. Vol'jin paused, feeling the pressing weight of so many deaths; a handful from the Horde but so many more from the Alliance. They were enemies but they'd been lives. Vol'jin found himself unsettled despite the overt peace of the island.
He was being watched. A few of the druids had drifted forward, curious and wary. Vol'jin was well aware of the green dragon still lounging in the sun on the wall and that he was being watched by them too. His guards shifted their weight behind him, feeling the weight of scrutiny. But their attention was not all of what stirred him.
He'd watched with the others as the bomb had fallen like a tiny star; perfect, bright and small. It had descended almost gently. The explosion had been blindingly bright. The Death Loa had rejoiced in so many souls crossing over in that one instant, laughing in bloodthirsty approval. Vol'jin hadn't shared the sentiment. It had felt wrong, somehow, to see the city die as it had. And if Garrosh could do that to one city, what else was he willing to do?
By design he'd arrived a little bit before his meeting with Archmage Proudmoore. He waved his guards off. His headhunters scowled but dropped to relaxed crouches out of the way - keeping him in sight but letting him go without them. Vol'jin nodded at Hurin who returned the gesture and drifted off to speak with the largest cluster of gawking druids.
Vol'jin strode forward and up the slight rise. He put his hands on his hips and regarded the tree. It vibrated with energy on a spiritual level, and while it was not the utterly rushing torrent that Nordrassil was, it was a considerable stream. Vol'jin turned towards the sea and sat with his back resting on the trunk. Closing his eyes he listened.
"Nice view, huh?" said a voice, small and high and soft but echoingly powerful.
Vol'jin smirked and opened one eye. "Aye, dat it be." He caught the faint impression of pink and purple from the corner of his eye.
"I like the sea. The sound of the waves. Jaina said it was her favorite sound. It's soothing."
Vol'jin watched the sun dance on the waves and recalled times long in the past when he'd sit under the trees for a brief rest at the edge of one of the beaches among the isles the Darkspear called home . The sea had given the Darkspear and their islands much... and had taken much. "De sea be a tricky thing. One minute it be givin' you dinner, the next it be tryin to kill you wit' a storm." The Loa of the sea were well known to be mercurial creatures, changing mood in a flash. One minute they were blessing you and the next you were cursed and doomed.
A giggle from the first voice and then a second voice answered on his other side. "Fair. But then many things can cut both ways. Give and take, wound and heal, grow and destroy." He noticed red and purple from the corner of his eye but did not look at it directly, instead considering the words.
Vol'jin scratched his beard. "Aye. Dat be true enough." Garrosh's push for advancement had given the Horde much in the way of protection and had also advanced their ability to work metals, their understanding of mechanical matters and alchemy and magic. But he'd also disregarded the people he'd been given to lead, he'd killed his own and had fallen into mad, dark plans to gain even more power and conquest heedless of natural orders or the lives of his people. The cost had become too high for the rest of the Horde.
Vol'jin exhaled and listened. There were echoes of voices between the crashes of the waves. He could hear the city as it had been when it lived and the screams as it died. Theramore had loa of its own. The people here had lived and that always attracted the spirits. They were not lost or confused, mostly they were sad. Any lingering anger was calmed by the massive presence of the tree, a rage subsiding.
"I'm glad they grew a tree. It filled the crater," the small and young voice said, reading his thoughts.
Vol'jin nodded. He could feel the way the tree was already soothing the lesser spirits. It was young and vibrant, healthy and solid. He smirked and regarded the sea again. "Am I speakin' to ya now? Are you de Tree or sometin' else?"
"Now that would be telling," the older, male voice said, amused.
Vol'jin continued to watch the sea. A small fishing boat had drifted into view. It was of human make, the fisherman on board casting his net into the sea then pulling it back. It wasn't really there but then neither was the dwarf patting the gryphon in the ruins below or the cadre of Draenei in plate or the group of humans talking with one another outside of the blacksmith's shop, or the balding mage with kind eyes or the night elf who looked so fierce. These were all echoes of the lives lived here.
He sat almost in the center of where the blast had happened. He'd seen the crater from afar but it was indeed filled by the tree, the roots reaching deeper into the world even as he sat there, its influence spreading out and growing, bit by bit. It lived, soothing and regulating, persistent as the tides... or perhaps a heartbeat.
"I wouldn't mind if ya wanted ta be straight wit' me," he said aloud. The spirits laughed teasingly and he smirked shaking his head. "Didn't think so. Ya can't blame me for try'n."
"Aw, but where's the fun in that?" the young voice was back.
Vol'jin snorted a small laugh. "More interested in what's right for my people den what's fun."
"Well you're hardly alone in that," the voice said. "Listen."
It was clearly a command and so he did; it would have been both disrespectful and unwise not to. Wind rustled through the branches of the tree. Change comes. Be ready. He caught a flash of pink and this time he turned to look. He thought it might have been hair but instead he only found the drifting petals of flowers the color of magic. A full blossom had landed at his side.
Vol'jin picked up the flower and studied it then looked up at the tree. Movement caught his eye and out over the water he saw the air shimmer and twist until a massive portal opened. An equally massive blue dragon flew through, and perched on his back was a human woman with unmistakeable white hair with a golden streak.
He'd hated humans for most of his life. They were the enemy, stopping the troll's natural progress and conquest. At best they were a challenge to test against and overcome. And they still were the adversary, but having fought them and fought beside them he'd come to respect them. And during his recovery in Pandaria Vol'jin even learned to like at least one.
He lifted a hand to scratch his beard and realized he still held the pale flower. He considered it a moment. It seemed something the loa thought he was supposed to have. He tucked it into his mane of hair for now.
The pair landed and the dragon transformed into his much smaller form once Jaina was on the ground. She and Kalecgos exchanged a quiet word then the dragon resumed his true form and wandered in the direction of the green still draped on the ruined wall.
Vol'jin met Jaina's eyes across the distance and he rose, rolled his shoulders, then approached the mage. Her eyes darted to the flower then back. Vol'jin grinned, amused to have offset her a bit. Just because he had some respect for humans did not mean he needed to make anything easy for her. She was a battle proven mage, a leader and he could grudgingly admit a worthy adversary. It would be insulting not to give her a hard time.
Her expression was guarded but he could read fear and hope in her eyes in equal measure. The soft human had been changed by Garrosh. Vol'jin snorted a laugh. He'd been changed as well. The Grand Magus' eyes narrowed and Vol'jin lifted a hand as he approached.
"Was just thinkin', Lady," he said, striding down the hill towards her and crossing the last few steps. "'Bout de mess Garrosh left."
"Mess?" Jaina questioned, eyes narrowing, jaw clenching. She abruptly stopped, eyes closing as she drew in a breath in then out. She waved a hand and with a flash of light and color two seats and a small floating table bearing fritters, wine and fruit appeared. Lady Proudmoore took another meditative breath and indicated the seating. "Shall we sit and discuss?" Her tone was polite and neutral, lacking in the blazing rage which had lurked behind her eyes moments ago.
Huh. It was an interesting development.
"Aye. Dat we should, Lady." Vol'jin settled into a seat but did not eat or drink. "You be reversin' de policy on de Horde in Dalaran." No sense in wasting time, Vol'jin got to the heart of the matter.
"We are," Jaina said, perching on the edge of her seat like a wary sparrow.
"Why now?" he asked, watching her reactions but listening to the loa should they speak.
Proudmoore took a moment before speaking, again taking a breath and centering herself in a way that reminded Vol'Jin of the pandaren he'd convalesced with. Then Proudmoore launched into what seemed to be a well rehearsed speech.
Vol'jin listened with half an ear. Dalaran was a City of mages - all mages. Their issue had been with Garrosh and Garrosh was no longer the Warchief. The Council would be very closely watching portals on the Alliance side and expected the same would be done on the Horde side as a precaution against reprisals for Darnassus. It was all very logical. Vol'jin watched her and listened to discern what the mage believed.
The Jaina Proudmoore who had landed on the beach of Durotar and who had confronted Garrosh in his inner sanctum was much changed from the woman she'd been before. Jaina prior to Theramore's fall had been soft, quiet and kind almost without reservation. Garrosh had seen it as a weakness and if he were being honest, Vol'jin hadn't given her much mind. The rage after the death of her city had been surprising to Vol'jin and his allies. It had nearly killed them. Then for the next year or so, she had been all hard edges and fierce glares. She'd allowed the Horde to continue in Dalaran until Garrosh had once more stepped in. Then she'd been according to some reports, an unholy terror bent on the utter destruction of all the Horde held dear. But then most of the reports had come from the Sunreavers and she'd allowed an uneasy ceasefire with Lor'themar, so Vol'jin, took those reports a grain of sand or whatever the human saying was. She'd been hard and angry.
Until the trial when she and many others had died.
The Jaina Proudmoore who sat before him now was neither of these extremes. She was instead somewhere in the tempered middle.
Listen.
There was much Jaina was not saying and Vol'jin listened to that as well. She wasn't happy about these changes, but she believed in them and in what she said. As she spoke, seeking to convince him, he could see her convince herself. The tightness in her jaw lessened, the icy formality faded from her posture and eyes, replaced with determination. She was the one who'd brought the decision up with the Council, and was voluntarily on this path but why?
"Did you see him?" Vol'jin asked suddenly before he really thought about it.
Jaina paused in mid word, blinking. "Him?" she asked when she finally recovered.
"Bwonsamdi. De Loa of Death."
Jaina's jaw worked a moment, her brows furrowing. "No. Not that I recall." She suppressed a shiver and folded her hands together.
So the death Loa hadn't spoken to her or set her on this path.
Jaina cleared her throat. "May I ask why you would ask that?"
Vol'jin shrugged. "It be a great change, Lady. You walked the path of peace. You don't walk it no more. But you don't dance to de war drums neither. Some say you'll attack de Horde if dey come back. Some say you be back to de way things were before. But you don't live through this much death and betrayal and end up de same." He huffed out a laugh. "Garrosh killed us. You. Me. Others. The people we were be dead." Vol'jin leaned forward, resting one arm on a knee. "Garrosh killed you twice. I be tryin' to decide who this new Jaina Proudmoore is, an' if it be safe t'let my people, my family, back in'ta Dalaran."
The grand magus considered him and his words, falling silent. At length she sat back in her seat, the formally fading. "I have died twice," she said into the quiet. "I'd not considered it that way."
Vol'jin snorted another laugh. It wasn't typical to be dead in one sense and alive in so many other ways, but yet here they were.
"So, I be askin' again, why now?"
Proudmoore considered him a for a long moment before answering. "Because it's the right thing to do. Because the Horde is not Garrosh."
And there was something she wasn't saying here. Something had the Lady of Dalaran and Theramore unsettled. It wasn't duplicity; Vol'jin was well practised in discerning that.
"And?" He prompted because she wasn't going to say whatever it was on her own. As much as she was less inclined to kill him on sight than before, she was still an opponent.
Jaina's jaw clenched. Her eyes flicked to the flower still in his hair then she met his eyes. She took in another meditative breath and folded her hands in her lap. "Because I want the mages of Dalaran to be strong when the next cataclysm happens, whatever form it might take."
Vol'jin sighed out a breath and sat back in his seat. He plucked a cookie off the tray and munched on it contemplatively. It was spicy and sweet and he found himself staring at it as the ginger flavor bit back. Snorting a laugh Vol'jin continued to eat the cookie and consider both the mage before him and the loa that surrounded the island.
There would be something next, he realized, the thought sliding into place like a perfectly carved stone block in one of the ziggurats the ancient trolls had built. It had the weight of truth. He made a mental note to ask the farseers if they felt something on the horizon and if they had an idea of what shape it might take. Vol'jin's gifts had never been as a clear clairvoyant, but he'd proven himself worthy to the Loa and with their favor came some awareness.
"Consider what you have learned," they whispered. And so he considered the recent lessons they'd gifted to him.
The Venom Queen had granted him visions during his time recovering from Garrosh's assassination attempt. The Mogu and Zandalari alliance had crumbled because of their mutual arrogance and utter belief they were the stronger. And their empires, both vast and terrible, had crumbled to dust. The Mogu were overthrown by their servants and the Zandalari ripped apart from within.
Vol'jin scratched his beard and ate another cookie. Garrosh had nearly ripped apart the Horde with his treachery and selfish power seeking. He'd been overthrown by those he'd deemed lesser. His rise in power had nearly broken the Horde with infighting. His legacy threatened to destabilize the Horde even now; both fates of empires could befall the Horde now if Vol'jin wasn't careful. And so, Vol'jin was careful.
"The Kirin Tor," Proudmoore said into the silence, "Is willing, and able, to assist both factions in the alternate Draenor. As we assisted in Ice Crown and during the fight against Deathwing, so too we would assist here. We wish to see Garrosh brought to justice, his Iron Horde dismantled, and the people of Draenor freed. Not just the draenei but orc clans like the Frostwolves."
Vol'jin took a drink from the floating tray. Mage-wine was weak but it was cool and complimented the spicy cookies.
For years the Horde and Alliance of Azeroth had been at one another's throats. The animosity between them was real and for many reasons, some personal, some of pride. Vol'jin snorted another laugh. Pride. Proud was in the Lady's name and while she might have played the part of the meek princess, even then, he reflected, there'd been pride.
Which she was holding back now. Her eyes had narrowed when he'd laughed at his own internal thoughts and yet she'd not struck. As she watched, she again let the tension go, her shoulders relaxing, breathing out at a ten-count. Like one of the Shado-pan.
"You been to de monastery in Kun-lai?"
She tilted her head slightly, a fraction of surprise before she schooled her features. "I have been studying with one of the monks from the Shado-pan."
Vol'jin smiled, his teeth showing. "Some strange ideas, dese Pandaren, but some good ones too."
Proudmoore smiled slightly. "I have come to think so."
"How long you been studyin' wit' dem?" he asked, the words again prompted by gut instinct or the hand of the spirits.
Proudmoore's eyes dropped a moment then met his steadily. "Since after the trial."
Huh. Maybe they'd been putting her back together like they'd put Khort and him back together. In fact that made the most sense to the Shadowhunter. Vol'jin could see the same hand on her that he'd seen in himself.
"Some mighty fine healers in Pandaria. Dey found my sorry carcass after Garrosh's assassins."
"Being dead," Proudmoore said, referencing his earlier statements, "gives some interesting perspectives."
That confirmed it for Vol'jin. They'd both died and had been reborn, put back together by the same hands. No wonder she'd found something between the extremes of meekness and rage. It was supposition but then something told him he was right.
Vol'jin laughed. "Aye. Dat it does, Lady Mage. Dat it does. So," he pointed at her, "I have your word, on your power, dis ain't no trap for de Horde. De real Horde an' not dem idiots follow'n Garrosh."
"I give you my word, on my power, this is not a trap for the Horde of Azeroth. The Council, myself included, genuinely wish to open our borders again. Should our trusts be violated we will take action, but so long as everyone plays nice, they are welcome."
Vol'jin rested a hand on one arm of the chair and listened hard as he studied the Grand Magus. "I dunno if dey will want to return. Dat be up to dem. But I won't stop 'em."
If he hadn't been looking he might have missed the small signs of her relief, the way her shoulders relaxed just a fraction. She inclined her head graciously and he nodded back. "As for de rest, my commander has said your mage has been helping."
"Khadgar has, with approval." Jaina lifted her head, proud once again and so determined Vol'jin could practically feel it. He smirked and she met his expression with a fierce grin. "We wish to see Garrosh brought low. Should your commander have need of our resources, she need only bring them to Khadgar's attention for discussion.
Vol'jin nodded and rose. Jaina rose as well, banishing the seating area and tray of food and wine. He stretched and sank back down with a sigh as the air around him changed slightly.
"Thank you for taking his meeting," Proudmoore said, once more bowing her head.
Vol'jin nodded, his eyes going back to the growing tree where the crater had once been. "Dis be sacred space," he said. "Powerful mojo be growin' here now." He rapped the bark with the back of a knuckle. The wood was firm and healthy under the gentle thump. "Ain't no Horde gon' give trouble here. An if dey do, den you got de right to punish em' as y'see fit." He spread his hands. "But if you can't stand the sight of 'em, send em' to me and I show em de error."
Proudmoore arched a silver eyebrow, surprised but not entirely displeased if he was reading her expression correctly. "I shall keep that in mind."
Vol'jin smirked and in the wind, one of the loa of this island giggled. He took the flower from his hair and handed it out to Proudmoore. She frowned at it, confused, then took it in delicate fingers.
"Strong loa here. Laughing." He nodded to her once more and strode off to collect his people and make the long return journey to Orgrimmar. The spirits laughed in his wake, either at him or at the expression on Proudmoore's face. Either way, interesting times were in the winds.