"You excited?" Cort asked jovially, watching as Colin took the lead, his son holding his hands around the straps of his backpack as he walked along with a pep in his step.

He nodded as he spun around, walking backward, "Yeah!"

His father smiled at his son's enthusiasm. Having come over to seek a fortune here in Kalimdor, Cort had never been particularly skilled outside of his expertise on ships. Being held to land by his family, he was only really able to take odd jobs here and there, usually only finding work with different businesses which were in the middle of large projects and in need of workers. He wasn't particularly proud of this, and would often reflect the questions Colin had about his work, the boy curiously seeking to learn more about his father. Cort knew his son thought the world of him, and it killed him, knowing he wasn't nearly the hero his child thought him to be.

Still, Cort managed to support the family, supplemented by his wife's tailoring work, and his particular job was rather lucrative, even more so as help was desperate and his son had been called upon to help if he could. Cort worked himself to the bone on every job, and this time he was sure this job would stick. He had made such a good impression, and even the owner of the shop had nothing but good things to say about him.

Finally, he could have a job he could be proud of. More importantly, it was a job his son could be proud of him for.

"Whoa, watch it!" Cort spoke up as Colin neared the cross street, still heading backwards.

Colin skillfully spun around again, standing at the corner as various carts rolled on by, allowing his father to catch up, holding him by the shoulder before guiding him across the road, "Busy day! It's expected, I suppose, with the holidays coming up soon. We'll be getting a lot of visitors to our city, most of the Alliance men and women on the whole of Kalimdor, actually."

He looked down toward Colin, "That means some overseas visitors as well."

His son bolted his head up at him excitedly, "You think we'll see those statues that shoot out fire again?!"

"I sure hope so," Cort laughed, "Maybe we'll get to see something even cooler this year. Now watch out; here comes a caravan."

The man pulled his son to the side of the road as a large contingency of carts and wagons rolled noisily toward them, the joints of their chassis creaking along as the old mechanisms chugged along, weakly. Cort pulled his son along carefully, the crowds already beginning to grow as the holidays approached.

"Stay beside me, now," Cort instructed, keeping a hold of Colin's shoulder as he pulled him closer to his side, "It's going to get rough, okay?"

Colin nodded in reply, the opposite flow of foot-traffic beginning to run into his shoulder as they passed, the space between people shrinking further and further. Most were light, and only one was partnered with an apology, though when the hits were large, Colin nearly lost his breath as his body swung into his father's side, desperately trying to keep his footing as he recovered.

Finally freed from the torrential flow of bodies, Colin caught his breath while his father pulled him along, looking back toward him with a rushed expression, "Come on, buddy; we don't want to be late."

Colin's face jumped up to peer up at his father, the old man's expression softening into a smile as Colin caught his footing, offering a quick apologize, "Sorry."

"It's all good," Cort smiled, "It's right up here."

Unable to remember a brighter look from his father, Colin hurried along at his side, still taken aback by just how proud his father was of this moment, almost as much as Colin was excited. The two rounded the corner, with Colin picking up his pace and managing to quickly walk alongside his father, his voice emerging between breaths.

"Is it up here?" Colin asked expectantly, looking up toward his father's nodding head.

"Yessir!" he answered, easily, "Just down this last…"

Cort paused, both in speech and in speed, as the two of them came to the end of a pathway leading through a small yard before stopping at the closed door of a small workshop, Cort's eyes wandering up and down its frame as he attempted to figure out what was going on. He pulled Colin up toward the gate that kept the stone path blocked, patting him on the shoulder to signal his order to remain here.

"Hang on, let me see what's up," Cort explained, rather weakly, "They don't close the door unless…"

He trailed off darkly as he opened the gate, making his way up to the door, rubbing his hands together to warm them as a chill ran down his body. He held his head low, stepping onto the doorstep and leaning close to the door, offering just the smallest pitter-patter of knocks before pulling his hand down, remaining there without looking back toward Colin, who watched his father from afar with confusion.

The heavy door creaked lightly as it opened, just barely, revealing just the smallest visage of a heavily bearded man, sticking his face closer into the cracked space to speak to Cort, "Daniel said you'd have gotten the message."

Cort leaned closer, not wanting his son to over hear the exchange, whispering with a desperate air, "What's going on? I thought this contract was solid-"

"You were working on fumes already, Cort," the man mumbled, sympathetically, "Look, if it were up to me, I'd let you in; but I've got a family of my own to feed. I can't go against Daniel's orders."

His head lowered, gravely, Cort pulled his head back up, almost pleading, as he looked into his friend's eyes, "Tavin, please… That's my son out there; I can't walk away from this door without-"

"Cort," he muttered, weakly, though decisively, "I'm sorry. You're gonna have to figure something out. We all have, here."

Cort's head lowered weakly once again, unaware that his son was still watching him, Tavin's eyes peering over his downturned posture out toward the boy standing just outside the gate before speaking up, quietly, "Look, I gotta get back to work; I-…"

Understanding well enough that there wasn't anything he could do, Tavin sighed sympathetically, reaching out between the slight crack in the door to grasp Cort's shoulder for a moment, letting go only to pat him gently before returning to shut the door.

"Sorry, friend."

The massive door creaked as it swung closed, banging against the frame before the lock slid shut with a loud metallic noise. Cort remained there, staring into the soft brown of the wood as he leaned up against the door, not wanting to turn and face his son. Colin had been so excited, he knew; to turn back now, even though he was sure his son already was aware of what had just happened. Cort remained there for a few more moments before standing back straight, reaching up to hold his hand against his face in disbelief.

His feet slowly slid away from the door as he turned around, just managing a slight smile as he faced his son, treading slowly back down toward the gate, shaking his head, "So it goes, huh?"

Colin's brow was upturned, his face a look of sadness; not because of being refused to work with the vials, but because he had become used to seeing his father putting on these acts for him. The same look broke his father's heart, though the child couldn't have known that. Cort simply let on as if he was well aware of the fact that his family would be okay. That, somehow, they would weather the storm.

"Well, you get a free day today, I guess," Cort smiled, weakly, "How about we, uh… How about we head down to the docks today, before we tell your mother, huh?"

Colin didn't move for a moment, but ultimately nodded, albeit weakly, as his father took his hand, "We'll take the long way this time. No point in rushing I guess, huh?"

He would have far preferred his father appearing as sad as he felt inside, Colin always thought. Perhaps that's just what father's did, he often wondered.

"Come one, come all!" shouted the gnome caller, running up and down the docks of Theramore, trying desperately to raise interest in his 'show', "See the druidic wonder! Aquarose! The night elf apostate, here to show off her abili-!"

Colin turned his head over his shoulder, curiously, as the gnome grew out of earshot, his father still leading him along the massive docks that were always packed full of tourists and businesspeople. While he disguised it as a fun time, Cort had come here to seek out work overall, and remained holding onto his son's hand as the two of them made their way through the foot traffic. While his father was fixated on his usual destination, one of the troupe leaders who was constantly trying to find quick, cheap, local help whenever his exhibits brought more attention than he'd expected, Colin was busy trying to take in all of the passing wares and odd people passing by them.

Being the only Alliance stronghold this far south of Ashenvale, Theramore was an incredibly successful port city, especially when it came to Alliance merchants working their way from the Eastern Kingdoms to the mighty goblin mercantile capital of the world, Gadgetzan. Theramore was, therefore, the easiest, and most importantly, safest, passage onto Kalimdor for many Alliance races not strongly affiliated with the night elves to the far north.

This brought many tourist attractions to appeal to the locals as much as the travelers. Often, oddities were traded amongst the conglomeration of merchants and travelers, and sometimes, even people, were bought and sold, seeking travel to either Gadgetzan or Ironforge, or wherever to the East. The docks had, in a sense, been a window for Colin to experience the strange outside world from his own backyard, and it had easily become his favorite place. He remembered seeing his first draenei, the large, tailed man mesmerizing him with mechanical totems that could shoot at grasshoppers from a mile away, it seemed.

Today, however, he was caught up in his father's clutch as the two of them came to the dwarven manager of the Cragpike Tents, a large group of performers and sellers who traveled the world over, almost at the same scale as the Darkmoon Faire folks. Their manager, Bramrig, was busy looking over a handful of leaflets as Cort approached, leaving Colin by one of their tents as he spoke up happily.

"Bram!" he shouted, earning a critiquing eye from the dwarf's downturned head.

"Ah, yes yes; Cort Dumerval, correct?" Bramrig muttered loudly, "We dwarves have memories etched in stone ya know."

Cort smiled happily as he crouched down, holding onto one of the exhibit's railings to support himself, "Hey buddy; look, I've got something to-"

Colin turned back into the tent he'd been left by, eyeing the shelves of foreign objects that all appeared to incredibly neat to him. His head just barely came over the counter, but he was able to examine all of the tools and weapons that he could, his eyes glazed over. The attendant of the stall, a tauren, turned toward him, lazily, as she sleepily leaned over the counter as if trying to find sleep.

"Ne'd s'mthin', kid?" her deep voice rolled in broken common speech.

Quickly shaking his head, Colin turned her down, allowing her a quick shrug as she closed her eyes once again in search of rest, "J'st don' 'teal noth'n."

Despite her closed eyes, Colin nodded obediently, already quite fearful of the being who could have easily fit three of him inside of her. He took a few steps back, warily, before wandering into the stream of people that trailed down the length of the wooden dock, his eyes not leaving the tauren until he turned the corner. Suddenly, he heard the same gnomish voice, now more strained as if he'd been yelling for some time.

"Come one! Come all! The druidic wonder is here! Aquarose: the druidic apostate! Ready to demonstrate the magic of the earthen spirits!"

His feet pitter-pattered softly down the dock as he went, though Colin couldn't help but take notice of what he was saying. His parents had bought him a compendium one year, at this very sort of event, of the various species and flora all around Azeroth, including the humanoid, language-speaking races of the world, even if some of them had little-to-no representation. Gnolls, for example, were restricted to a quick, succinct paragraph when it came to explaining them:

"Gnolls are particularly evil beings. Much like the Kobolds, who share an odd fascination with candlelight, gnolls are particularly known for their love of all things shiny, and often set up shop around popular trading routes, 'hunting' those angelic coins they so desperately seek. Steer clear, and you won't be clawed."

Colin's interest in the gnolls, as a result, suffered, though when it came to other races that Colin very rarely, if ever, saw down in Theramore, he held a particularly ravenous interest in. The draenei wasn't even in the compendium when Colin stumbled upon him, and among most of the interest that Colin had fell toward the night elves: a race that, compared to the author's description of the gnolls, were described in almost angelic terms. Though no pictures were included of them, the author compiled many stories of night elves, many of their habits, and especially that most unattainable of traits- their immortality.

Even more than that, the authors recounting of druidic magic astounded Colin. His mother, while a daughter of the arcane, had long prevented much of any discussion of magic in the house, inexplicably making the topic of great interest to Colin's mind. The thought of seeing somebody actually wielding this elven magic seemed too good to be true, he thought.

Now hearing this caller, Colin found himself immediately gravitating toward the large, turquoise tent that stood atop one of the less-traveled docks, gently pulling at the entry curtain to take a look inside, finding nothing but darkness within. His eyes peered in deeply, trying to make out anything of interest.

"Hey!" came a wildly feminine voice from within, "If you're here for a show, close up the curtain."

Despite the reluctance in her voice, Colin was shocked into shutting the curtain, though was curious to find himself on the inside of the large sheet of cloth, now encompassed, himself, in the darkness. He turned toward the inside of the tent just as a low green light began to emanate from a crystal ball, revealing a rather lithe, purple-skinned woman sitting there, waving her hand over the mysterious device, her eyes jumping to meet Colin.

"Please tell me kids here have enough money to pay for things?" she wondered, aloud, with a hint of skepticism.

Colin eyed her with a mix of wondrousness and curiousity, though as he began to understand her words, he slowly turned away, only until her voice bit back through the air, "No, no! I've been sitting here all day long with no customers. I'll get rusty if I don't do something. Come on, sit."

Obediently, Colin did as he was told, sitting cross-legged across from her at the small table that held the crystal ball, his eyes suddenly opening wide as he realized just in whose presence he was in. He realized that he was in the presence of a true-to-life night elf.

"What?" she spoke up, accusingly, with a wry grin stretching over her face, "Never seen a night elf before?"

Colin shook his head, slowly.

She laughed, reaching up to fix her hair as if being critiqued, "Well, that's no surprise; we're rather solitary beings. What all do you know about night elves?"

Her hand swayed majestically around the crystal ball, eyeing Colin critically as she muttered aloud, "This is just for show, by the way. Go on."

Colin cleared his throat, rather nervously, "W-Well, uh… I know about Archimonde on Mount Hyjal, and Staghelm- actually, my school has one of the silithid fossils from that war."

The woman nodded automatically, as if the topics were of little interest to her, "Uh huh, uh huh."

"Uh," Colin thought for a moment, "I really like druidic stuff. Magic and all that."

Her ears perked up at this, nodding knowingly, "Ahh, that's why you ended up here, huh? Well, in the- I'm Aquarose, by the way."

"C-Colin."

"Well, in the spirit of openness, yes, I am a druid, though not in the 'official' sense. You know the Cenarion Circle?"

Colin shook his head.

"Ah, yes, well… It's all politics anyway. Women aren't supposed to be druids, you know? I had to sneak around to learn all that I have. That's why I'm here, making a leaving as a sideshow act; I was banished as an apostate."

"Banished? Just for that?" Colin questioned.

Aquarose nodded, "Yep. I wasn't ever a conventional lady though; if Pitwin weren't so focused on me being an act, I might enjoy being out in the world more. That tree wasn't ever really for me, anyway."

"Tree?" Colin wondered, reverently.

She grinned, lifting her legs as she spun around, digging into a small box full of trinkets that she kept nearby, "I guess you don't know all that much, huh? Let's see… I had something in here that might- Damn it, it's not here."

She huffed impatiently as she stared up toward the top of the curtained tent, leaving Colin to stare majestically at the soft glow that escaped the top of her face until she closed her eyes in thought, finally shaking her head as she spun back toward the table. She pulled the crystal ball off and lowered it to the ground, placing her hands on the table before her.

"Teldrassil. It's a giant-ass tree up at the northernmost part of Kalimdor. Surely you've heard mention of it?"

Colin shook his head, slightly embarrassed.

Aquarose tilted her head, showing a pithy smirk before exposing the palm of her hand atop the table, "Well, Pitwin likes to sell me as some evil druid who peddles sinister spells, so I guess I might as well show you one, unpaying customer. Look at my hand."

Colin leaned forward, clutching onto the table to steady himself as Aquarose reached over with her other hand, beginning to draw, delicately, with her index finger atop her open palm. Colin's eyes grew wide as a vision of sorts miraculously appeared in her hand, like a mirror, but instead of looking back at him, it showed a lush, green environment unlike anything he'd ever seen down here in Duskwallow.

Aquarose smirked devilishly as Colin's jaw slowly dropped in awe, though she continued her presentation, her finger scrawling quicker and quicker atop her hand as the vision moved quicker and quicker. The moving picture strode quickly down a single cobblestone path, giving rise to a massive wall covered in vine-y strands of flower petals, Colin's eyes nearly glowing themselves as he saw the majestic gates of a massive-

She quickly tore her hand away, clenching it into a fist before waving it desperately in the air as if shaking a handful of dice, a gentle green glow escaping through her fingers as her lips pulled to the side in modest resignation.

"Sorry, that's about as far as I can show you. Any more and the Circle will know I'm screwing around up there," she giggled, rubbing her hand across her robes.

Colin watched her seriously, "Th-That was actually…"

"Actual sight? As in not a vision? Yes," she grinned, "You might as well have had eyes up there. I know Malfurion can do something similar, though with every one of your senses; I'm not even close to breathing the same air as that man, so that's about as far as I go, especially with no teachers."

She shrugged, grinning childishly, "Such is the life on an apostate, I suppose."

Colin leaned back, dumbfounded, as Aquarose smiled, returning her crystal ball back to the table, throwing a wink his way, "Well, you got to see my "druidic wonders". For free, no less. Now scoot on out of here before Pitwin catches wind of our little exchange. He won't want to know I risked him getting a visit from a being five times his size."

She smirked as she waved him out, watching him as he stood up to leave, catching him still staring at her, her smirk turning mischievous, "It's impolite to stare, no matter what race you are."

"O-Oh, s-sorry," was all Colin could manage as he stood there, now quickly managing to work his way out of the tent, "Th-Thank you."

"You're very welcome," Aquarose muttered, "And cut that nervousness out, Colin."

Feeling a sudden blush, he nodded as he pulled the curtains back to leave, pausing again as Aquarose finished up, "I'm Nytyura, by the way. Nytyura Wildwhisper. Having that mess above the door- Pitwin figured it wouldn't test well with customers."

Colin watched her until the curtain closed up in front of him, allowing him the chance to pull himself away from what he had seen, stepping backward as he looked up above the tent, noticing the sign this time: "Druid Aquarose! Mystic of the Earth and Forest!". He remained there, staring upward, until his father's voice finally broke through to him.

"Colin! There you are!" Cort spoke up, excitedly, keeling over to catch his breath, "Well, I found something, so let's get you on back home, okay? I have to come back; I'll be working late, so you'll have to keep an eye on the house. Can you do that?"

He nodded, "Yes."

"That's my boy," Cort replied, excitedly, grinning with that same bright smile from that morning.

He held onto Colin's shoulder, leading him down the dock, though the boy couldn't help but look over his shoulder, back toward the turquoise tent that stood out so well against the drab brown of the dock. He couldn't very well make heads or tails over what had been more beautiful- Aquarose or the 'vision' he had seen.