AN: We're gonna leave Lydros and Winnie to their own devices for a little bit, and focus on Tria and her friends. I really feel that these two haven't gotten as much as they deserve, though that's mostly because I am being extremely fail in updating, and I'm really sorry for that.
Leybright makes an appearance out-of-game where I can develop her a bit more. She's an extremely complicated character who will be quite confusing at the best of times, and I feel that she's a bit different from the others in that she's... well, she's a real wench some days. We get a good view of this here, along with what looks to be some things wrapped up on Tria's side.
I've found myself actually fond of Hana'rae. While I don't see her appearing much in Fang and Spell aside from a few appearances as Tiroth's assistant and close friend, I'm seriously considering some side stories involving her. Then again, I think I'm fond of all of them. Bah. I'll never have time for sleep!
"I don't understand. Why apologize?"
There were only three in the room, two more standing outside in quiet discussion while the others spoke. Triadae sat on one of the chairs, Miralai sleeping soundly on her lap. Even now, though the child had been there for hours already, she found it hard to relax, terrified she might drop the girl and she'd shatter. Her hands seemed too rough on smooth skin, her body too bulky. Yet Miralai slept without a sound, her breathing even and calm with one hand curled against her chest, the other gripping Tria's tabard gently.
"You deserve that much, after all the wrongs I have done to you."
Tiroth ran his fingers through his hair for what seemed to be the hundredth time since the slender woman had found him. The fear and desperate elation he had felt when first setting eyes on her had now dulled to uncertain disbelief. He wanted to believe that the woman who now held his daughter was someone else, but he knew all too well that this was the woman he loved. For the first time in years, Triadae was as he remembered her, and yet it did not help ease him. For the third time, he sat himself in his chair, his forehead in his hands.
"No spite. No hate. No... anything. Why do I feel, after coming this close, that there will still be nothing more than words between us ever again?"
At this, she chuckled. When the curtain ruffled and opened to admit Yri, she made no move to hand over Miralai. In truth, she was afraid to drop her, but Yri made no comment otherwise, quickly scooping up the girl and leaving the room without a backward glance.
"You always were good at seeing the truth quickly." Triadae stood, glancing over the walls of the room, where pictures and old weapons had been placed in such a way that one simply had to look to see all that the man was proud of. She could feel him move, coming to stand behind her, and she knew that he battled with himself on if he should touch her or not. "It's been too long, Tir. There's too much there between us now, and none of it has ever been your fault."
His hands went to her shoulders, and she lifted a hand of her own to touch his fingers while she spoke. "I will never be able to speak with you and not feel guilt for what I put you through. I loved you, I should have believed you over my sister. I knew how she was... I never should have listened. But I did listen to her, and I brought this down on myself." She sighed, turning in his grasp. "I did love you, then. You were everything to me, and there was so much I wanted." Her hand covered his mouth as he opened it to speak, and her head shook once, firmly.
"No. What we had is gone, and I will not let you try to convince me otherwise. I know you love me, or that you believe you love me. I'm asking you to forget that, and let me simply be what I am now. An acquaintance, someone to help you when you are in need of it. I could not be what you need me to. I cannot be a mother to your child, nor could I be a wife to you. Somewhere in the years I've spent hating you, I've learned that I've come to hate myself far more. I have far more growing to do before I can ever settle down, and even if I do..."
His hand came up to pull hers away, and the pain in his eyes made her heart tighten. She knew he still loved her, no matter how horrible she had been to him. He would have forgiven her everything, if she'd just given him a chance. She couldn't even begin to explain that it wasn't him that she was angry at, couldn't hope that he'd understand fully that she would never be able to forgive herself for all that she had put him through...
… but when he spoke, she knew he'd do his best to believe in her. In her reasons, in her mind, in her choice. Not for the first time, she remembered why she had loved him. For all of his pride, and all of his loyalty to people she couldn't even begin to tolerate, he knew when the best time to retreat was. It meant, of course, that he wouldn't give up on her as she had seemed to do for him, but she had already known that wouldn't be so easy.
"I do have something you can do for me." Reluctantly, he drew away from her to turn back to his desk and pull out a variety of maps, leafing through them until he found the proper one. Triadae followed, standing beside him as he smoothed out the delicately drawn map of Hyjal. "In the last few months, more of those who have dedicated their lives to the efforts of their people have flocked to Hyjal, where their efforts have been needed in the battle against the Twilight Cult and the minions of Ragnaros. I'm sure you remember the open recruitment for the cult a few months past."
She did, and it took quite a bit to keep herself from sneering at the memory. The most she gave him was a nod, moving her hand to hold down one side of the map while he held the other, letting him trace his fingers over the page to point out landmarks while he spoke.
"You no doubt remember Hyjal from the last time you were there. It has changed a bit, including the spire where Ragnaros has been summoned by Deathwing himself. These are reports from that front," he gestured to a stack of pages, "and none of them are exactly promising. I've had more than enough men and women tell me that they're losing more people to the Cult by joining it than by being killed by it. I need someone to take a few of the best, and find those who are sabotaging us, and gaining power for their master."
Tiroth changed a glance at her from the corner of his eyes, watching her muse over his proposal. "I'd be placing you in charge of a small group. Kalthor could accompany you if he wished; I'd prefer it if we're going to be honest. Despite his choice of profession, he is a quick thinker and can keep a good hold on you if he needs to. I have three others lined up for you, one who you may recall from a long time ago. The other two are emissaries who were volunteered for the job." His hand moved, resting over hers.
"I ask you, because I know you will do what needs to be done. There's no order to bring in prisoners. Those who have defected are to die, as are their leadership. We want them crippled as quickly as possible, and you've always been quick at getting things done." His hand moved, and he took in a breath while he considered. "When you've completed this, you'll need to head to the Highlands. I'll have more for you, then."
"I don't like this." She folded her arms over her chest, watching him. "The last group I led anywhere ended up dead. Scourge," her voice lifted to silence him, and then quieted, "or not, I've never been comfortable since that happened. I lost good people then. But... I will do this for you. Give me the details, and I'll figure out the rest of it on my own while we make our way there."
"Hana will escort you to the Spire. Leybright awaits you there, and will accompany you to Orgrimmar via a mage portal. Gandret Stormhoof will meet you once you reach Moonglade, where he has secured transportation to Hyjal itself for the four of you. I am, of course, assuming you are taking Kalthor with you." He managed a wan smile when she nodded. "As for the last, I have yet to receive their name. They wait for you there, where they've been following the movements of the Cultists. You'll have to ask around for them, I can't give you more than that."
He stacked the maps again, replacing them where he had originally brought them from, and then simply leaned against the desk. "Do you have any idea how hard this is for me, Tria?" He didn't bother looking up, knowing that she had already moved away from him and was making her way to the curtained archway.
"You'll survive. You always do. Give my regards to Mira, when she wakes." She offered one smile, and then she was out of the room, and barely had time for the curtains to fall back into place behind her before she was joined by Kalthor and Hana'rae.
"We'll be leaving as soon as possible. I'm going to assume you're ready to leave, Kal?" Triadae glanced over her friend, not pleased with the way he seemed so run down. Perhaps bringing him was not the best choice. He hadn't seemed to be his usual self since they had left the wolf-girl back in Stranglethorn, and especially since she had told him exactly what she had told Tiroth... in not so many words.
When he only managed a brief grunt in her general direction, she seriously considered telling Tiroth to find another member for her, and then decided against it. If nothing else, she'd find someone willing to help once they were there, and perhaps she could simply shake Kalthor off when they arrived. It pained her to consider it, but she wasn't sure she had the strength to deal with two love-sick men. "Fine. Hana, if you would?"
"Of course. Master Everdawn has filled you in, I suppose?" The blonde smiled when Triadae nodded, her chainmail and plate clinking softly in time with her steps while she walked. "He becomes more and more worried as each report comes in. While he's by no means a main head of affairs in the city, he simply has too much on his plate to be dealing with. I am glad, Tria, that you are helping him with this. Leybright waits for you with the arcanists. We should hurry, given that neither of them are all that friendly with the other, and she is only here and not being strung up by her ears because of the neutrality pact."
While the name itched a very distant memory in her mind, Triadae couldn't place a face. Strange, since she was usually quite good with names and faces.
"That's the one who had her ley locked down, isn't it?"
Tria glanced back at Kalthor, who was rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Been so long, I forget why it happened. Was before the city fell, that much I remember."
"That's correct, Kal. Leybright was stripped from the ley-line after an incident, and she chose self-exile up until very recently. There's no love lost between the Magistrix Etherfair and Leybright, but I suppose that's to be expected after what happened. It's likely best to forget about that, if you're going to be working beside her. While her methods are questionable, and her mind is rather... unstable... she is good at what she does. Regardless of what she believes."
"Murder." Tria's voice was quiet. "I remember now. My father was one of those who oversaw what scrap of a trial there was for her. She killed two people in cold blood, and was caught trying to flee the city. They stripped her of everything, bringing her from one of the most gifted of our time down to a mere shell."
"A shame. We've lost so many... Rommath would have been glad to have someone with her skill, now. But we've all had our moments."
"You would condone murder?"
"No," Hana'rae smiled simply. "Murder is not an answer, but I'm not blind to the fact that what is murder to one is mercy to another. You should remember that, having been one who has dealt with life and death in one hand. How many times were you spurned for giving a man the rest he craved, when his family demanded you make him live despite the loss of an arm or leg, or Light knows what else?"
"Why would they simply strip her of her magic, if she was convicted of murder?" Kalthor muttered under his breath as he stumbled over a crack in the pavement, quickly catching up to the two women. "People have been exiled or killed for far less. Letting a murderer walk free seems... off."
"There were those who took pity on her. They say she was so sure of her guilt that she would not speak a word in her defense, not for or against. My father was one of them, I remember. I was very young, but I remember him speaking to Mother about the entire thing. Said that he would have expected worse than death in her place. I never understood. I don't think I can... My hands aren't clean, but I've come a long way and have never killed an innocent."
"Perhaps you will have a chance to ask her." Hana'rae stopped walking, gesturing to the gilded ramp that led up to the Spire and the arcanists themselves. "You'd best hurry. I'm afraid I'd expect the whole Spire to go up in flames. You know the temper Etherfair has, especially now that she's managed another child with her husband."
Kalthor snorted. "Why anyone would want to breed with that hag, I'll never understand."
"Well, some don't enjoy chasing dreams their entire lives, and will settle with whatever will lay still enough." Hana'rae grinned.
"I'd take a corpse over that shrew," he retorted, turning a glare on the blonde.
"Enough, you two. You can continue your flirting when we return, and not a moment sooner." Triadae ignored the glare Kalthor turned on her, offered a brisk wave of her hand to the female paladin, and then began the ascent of the ramp, fully aware that Kalthor stalked – though it was more of a childish stomping – behind her.
They were nearly to the room that contained the portal and arcanists when they both felt the pulse of ley that heralded a brewing spell. This was accompanied by an unholy screech that grated on their ears, and Triadae stepped through the curtains to an image that would have made most simply boggle. How this was going on under the noses of those who were the leaders of their people was absolutely beyond her.
Neither Triadae nor Kalthor were any stranger to Escalia Etherfair. The Magistrix had once been quite powerful in her own right when they had been High Elves, but now her title was more for posterity than actual use. The demonic taint they had all partaken of had warped her own magic, turning it back on her and crippling her. Once beautiful, she was a twisted thing that was prone to using too much glamour-magic and not nearly enough silence.
Nor were they that unfamiliar with her potent temper and creative language, much of which was being spewed at a figure garbed in robes of white and gold, with a deep hood that left little of her face to be seen aside from full lips that were currently pulled a mocking grin. Around her shimmered a shield of protective holy magic, and from the names she was being called by the angered Magistrix, they both had no doubts on who instigated what.
"I'm a little surprised your husband was willing to try again, but I suppose the mistakes of the first can always be prevented in the second, no? Perhaps this one will be twice the wretch your first was..." Leybright stifled a yawn, waving a hand in a disinterested manner. "I wonder how many bags it takes to get him to bed you. I'd say three. One for each of you, and a third for the poor mana wyrm you keep in your horrid company."
"Out! Murdering little harlot!" That swell of power came again and died, her voice cracking in rage. It was no wonder the others were cowering against the walls, looking caught between Sargeras and Deathwing on their choices. "When I get my hands on you, you'll be nothing more than a little smear on the bottom of my slipper!"
"Harlot? Ha!" Leybright examined her nails a moment before her hands vanished into her bell sleeves again. "It was your harlot who ended up on the bottom of my shoes, don't you remember? Her ashes, at leas -"
"That's enough." Though she had no desire to get between the two, Triadae wasn't about to have Kalthor die from lack of air, so desperate was he to not fall over laughing. "If you're done causing problems, Leybright, then we should be on our way before more than a book is lit on fire."
"My, my. Is that precious little Tria I do spy? You've grown into quite a lovely young woman, no doubt your parents are so very proud of you." Leybright strode to her, lifting a hand to grip Tria's chin in her hand. "I was so very fond of your father, after his favor. How has he fared, all these long years? Your mother, as well."
Triadae jerked her chin from her grasp, her eyes hard. "My kin have been dead many years. We are not here to catch up on old times, as bare as I remember them. The last I saw of you, you were being led from the city under suppression. Things have changed in that time."
"Indeed." The woman's voice held a hint of sadness beneath the malice she openly showed towards the Magistrix. Her eyes, faint pinpoints of green beneath her hood, left Triadae to fall on Kalthor, and her grin widened once more. "What an incredibly handsome young man. Here I thought I was being called for work, and they've given me a plaything..." She swept past, winding an arm around one of Kalthor's own, her voice dropping into a sultry purr. "We will have such fun, I promise."
"Oh, please." Triadae rolled her eyes, motioning for two of the cowering mages to start making the portal that they could travel through. "When we arrive in Orgrimmar, we're to set out immediately for Moonglade. If there's something you wish to pick up on our way on the through, you'd best do it quickly or I'll leave you behind." The portal opened before them, and Triadae motioned for Kalthor and his arm candy to walk through before her.
When the two had vanished and Triadae was about to follow, she heard the voice in her mind more than in her ears. "Kill her." She paused, looking back at the Magistrix, who was focused on her despite looking beyond worn out. "Kill her, and I'll make certain you want for nothing in your life, ever."
Triadae held the woman's gaze for a few moments longer before she sniffed, and stepped through the portal, and Silvermoon faded behind her.