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Chapter 2: Saturna Sunstrider
So then, since I've wandered, I'll circle back, as a good Mulgore storyteller often goes in a perfect hoop, and begin again…
When I first got to Mulgore a month ago, these fat, fluffy snowflakes were coming down everywhere. Being a Pathfinder, I was pretty pissed about that. I pay attention to the weather patterns, and I even read the Golden Plains Almanac which is an extremely dry collaboration by all the Tauren farmers over the generations, ever—so I did not expect such a wet winter right around the time I was coming back. I would have waited up in perfectly dry, cozy Orgrimmar for a couple more days, if so. Instead, I had to get down from my kodo and drag him, hard, because he hadn't seen me in ages, and apparently, Suba acted like I had only got him out of the stable (after an overly expensive wyvern flight, too), just to pull him for miles in a sudden, stupid blizzard. Every mile or so, he stopped and chuffed that he wasn't going. I'll sell Suba for kodo stew one of these days…
The night had been clear up until then. It was very strange. Stars, a perfect moon, the whole thing. But then, as we approached the hills at the edge of the southern plain that cradle Mulgore and kept out the bleak horrors of Desolace, it was like missus Mulgore had finally caught me out and she was punishing my slow butt for being away for so long. I think I panicked and turned back at one point to face Thunderbluff again. I wondered if I should just be a coward and retreat. What if the hills and my hut weren't any better off? I remember, just as I was thinking of running away again, a crack of lightning—and I do mean a roaring whip-crack and not like a seam of whimpy little, 'Oof, didn't mean to hit ya' lightning, it ignited the air all over the tops of the four rises. Windmills, yawning totem heads, carved staring eyes, everything, lit up. Everything menacing all of a sudden, and screaming out. That must be what other races see, when they first come to Thunderbluff. And Mu'sha only knows what the Alliance sees in us Tauren…
The eruption of crackling white happened right over the head of some poor bird. Some big dark thing, its wings all spread out and getting fried. Then the thunder quaked once more, and light seeped back into the snow-streaked darkness. Poor, crispy thing… That could have been me.
"Alright, missus Mulgore, I hear ya! I'm goin, I'm goin…" I dragged my brown kodo to the cave right before the footpath up to my place in the hills. Thank goodness we were still headed in the right direction. I made a fire and decided that both of us should wait out the rest of the storm exactly there.
I had some Mulgore Fire Water in a flask, downed that. Next, I poured some into my hand and let my kodo try and lap it up. Yeah, don't try this at home, giving drink to animals—but I was worried Suba was frozen to the bone and it should have warmed him up at least, while the fire tried to establish itself.
"Eh, what do you think, Suba, you old rag-and-bones? If Thunderbluff had been expecting Greatfather Winter anytime soon, his flying sleigh of Gnomes and holiday deer would have been tossed around like mad in a storm like that."
Suba grunted. You know, that soft friendly way the kodos always do. A kodo could be cussing you out and you'd never know.
"Maybe he should have used you instead? He'd have done better with a mean old, tough kodo like you." I patted Suba and then swept a strong hand down his shoulders, used it as an excuse to check out his legs and his flank. Suba was okay, the storm hadn't really chilled him or hurt him. Then, I sat against my animal—Tauren can warm them up sometimes, I've learned. Other races do it the other way around if they're caught on a cold night or some other crisis. But I could keep my kodo alive.
One last drink. Then, I forced myself to stopper it. My hoof-tips were starting to burn, if you can believe it. Fire water! After that, I laughed, imagining the mad old red-suited Dwarf and his minions even attempting to tumble over Mulgore in such a storm, just to make an entrance, just to get his gold…
How stupid was this holiday? How ridiculous had life become, that the old bulls like me will struggle through storms to be away from cheery people, and that an old Dwarf will fling himself around the globe in a clap-trap spectacle for a chance at good money in order to pay his Ironforge taxes at years' end, let's be honest, and for pretty Elves in skimpy costumes to come sit in his lap!
"Pathetic!" I heard myself shouting. The cave echoed it back in my ears, whether I wanted it or not. And I'm fairly certain that old Suba grunted at me, in Kodo-ese, to stop whining about yet another holiday and just go to sleep already for the love of—
Next morning. Warm cinnamon milk brought the world back down to the level of something soft and sweet and possibly not out to get Turaho Runestalker, personally. I'd hiked up to the hut. I was at least able to unpack a tea kettle and a bowl for some dried porridge from the kodo. Oh, and my tin cup. I had decided to leave my Suba behind at the cave at the base of the path, since I hadn't really finished the kodo shelter I was building up in the hills and I couldn't put my poor, tired beast through that for no reason.
The burdens of my journey from Ashenvale were already wafting away, and I imagined that I must look shaggy as a hibernating druid bear, which suited me just fine, because that was pretty close to what I was about to do.
Much of the snow had already melted away. So everything was as wet as spring, though it was almost freezing, but that, too, would wane. As An'she came out, and then the sun continued to rise and rise… I'd be fine. Mulgore had forgiven me.
I toasted the dawn. I always do, "Here's to ruminating for as long and as pathetically as I could possibly desire. Alone, and holiday-free!" And then another, much louder, "And this time, I'm not going back DOWN again until you bid me to do it! To Mulgore!" That echoed over the hills.
The porridge was starting to smell really good, I remember, when I first heard the hoofbeats that weren't my own. Kodos, sure. But the other particular vibration, more like rolling rocks, less like rolling thunder—experienced Pathfinders know the difference—that worried me. That meant horses. And this far south of the Barrens? That should have meant the Alliance.
Suba went running out of the cave, into the plain. I could tell his four slow feet apart from the others. That meant these strangers were coming for me, to the footpath up to my hut. It was the only warning I was going to get.
Would you believe, I cussed and hesitated over whether I should put out the fire and ruin my porridge? My other option—as an initiate Sunwalker, even at my age and with my experience as a huntsman, I was not supposed to have a gun still. But then again, I'm not an idiot, so I had a serviceable, loaded shotgun in stow anyway. So in those final moments before my life was invaded and changed forever, I was in a panic. Gun or porridge?
I'm getting to be such a fussy old man, I swear—I decided to keep the fire and all the smoke it was making to give me away, but then I grabbed my gun. I crawled on my belly to the edge of the cliff. All that to keep the porridge from getting cold.
I saw that the horses were wearing red and gold armor, and yes, it was sinister looking. But they were flanked on all sides by kodo. One of them I recognized, since it was wearing chieftan's drums on the sides. These were cinched a certain way to silence them since it wasn't wartime and nobody wanted their poor ears blown out. And then, of course, the man riding atop that beautifully bred animal was even more welcome in my eyes. Really, it was a shock. Chief Baine Bloodhoof and what looked like a squad of Blood Elves were heading directly to my footpath. To my hut! But why? And why now, good grief!
Damn, I really didn't want to share any of my porridge…
Instantly, I felt bad about my appearance. While I was dealing with the Night Elves in Ashenvale, I'd let my fur grow out. Didn't trim my hooves, none of it. I was letting myself become a crochety old Tauren eager to sleep through Winter's Veil, though I wasn't truly old yet. I'd say I'm older than Chief Baine by about ten years, but much, much younger than his old father Cairne. I still miss Cairne.
I squeezed into a clean tunic at the least. Then, I tried to push the meager furniture and cushions around the place so the hut looked less cluttered, but gave up and decided to meet them outside. That way, they wouldn't feel tempted to come in and join me. I quickly made more cinnamon milk for them, instead. Irrationally, I hoped that would somehow help. Then again, there could never be enough cinnamon-milk in the world. It's always worth making. It's too good.
I shouldn't have made such a bother. My uninvited guests took their time coming up the path. Baine had come up here only once before, and it had been a shock then, too. Baine would have known that there wasn't room for all their mounts at the top, so he took his time showing the others where to tie up the horses and kodos. I chose the spot for my place very well; there's an echo along the eastern ridge where the rock rises a little higher, so I can actually hear the voices if anyone's talking on their way up. I can also usually guess if there's a cougar or a wolf coming—you can't hear assassins or paws from ontop of a hill, can you? But I would always hear snorts, snarls and voices.
I was impressed with Baine very patiently informing the Blood Elves that everything would be fine, even if there weren't enough trees to tie the horses up the way they were used to in Quel'thalas. Even if their animals did wander off, they wouldn't get far because it's Mulgore, after all, and pretty well enclosed. (Nobody's Thalassian Charger was going to wander off and get into Thousand Needles to be slaughtered by the Grimtotem, or hacked apart by Alliance in the Southern Barrens.) Well, don't blame them for worrying, Mulgore isn't their mother. I wondered why Chief Baine was being so very cautious? He was treating them all like a nest full of eggs.
A woman's voice kept traveling up the rock. It was hollow in a way, like a flute. I couldn't understand what she was saying, why everyone was so agitated. A part of me wondered if this was some sophisticated, I dunno… cloaking spell? So the Elf leaders don't have to worry about eavesdroppers? Who knows what magical technology the Nightborne had passed on to their cousins by now!
Honestly, I'm very uncomfortable with yet another Elf race being in the Horde anyway, and I'm waiting for the coup to happen any day...
The other Blood Elves were irritated, but trying hard not to talk over this woman. All bows and scraping, various forms of polite deference. I guessed she was in charge. The Tauren braves with them weren't saying anything at all, but it's our land. We Tauren should have been running the whole show. Now, wasn't that even stranger? What the heck was going on?
Whenever I go out on a mission, whenever I have to guess about the people I'm going to meet in strange new places, I rarely guess wrong. It's always good to at least try to read others first and prepare. So far, I had little sleep due to the cold, the porridge was boiling over, and I was prepared for nothing in my own home. Ugh…
As they made their way hiking up the hill, the lead woman sounded more and more like she was on some charming holiday on a tropical island, eventhough she was in cold, soaking wet Mulgore, and surrounded by hideously efficient Bloodknight killers. (Not sorry. My opinion of Bloodknights in general. Paladins are a whole other species if you ask me.) This lady kept gasping or overacting at how 'beaaaautiful' everything was. And she would have sensed that they were getting close to my house, that the householder might be able to hear her.
Well, there might be something in that—she was going far out of her way to be polite, right? So then, who or what was she already making nicey-nice for?
Maybe the Bloodknights were short on something, in need of something. Us Tauren were the only ones who could give it. And Chief Baine had thought it safer not to let them have whatever it was just yet. He wanted to consult with me first.
I felt honored. For like a second.
I went and put away my gun, tucking it behind one of the wood posts just inside the hut. Best to play along and let Baine lead this little delegation. I hated to be unarmed around so many leery Blood Elf paladins, though.
Baine didn't smile when he greeted me, though the energy of our guest should have merited it. Tauren are different. When someone tells us there is a problem, then we set the tone. We keep it there. No need to pretend. I notice that other races, especially the Elves, will try and keep a smile on or stay off the subject since they think that's easier, or more polite. That was how I knew, right away, that this woman had come to Baine with a real serious problem, and that she was afraid. That is, she was trying to cover her fear before a stranger.
Fear. Need. If this was supposed to be the woman in charge, then she was sorely out of her depth. I'd have to try much harder not to be condescending, then. Though, I already sensed how this was going to play out. Badly, for her. I was about to hang whoever this schmuck, or schmuk-ette was, out to dry.
Baine looked exhausted and it was only a couple of hours, or three after dawn.
I'd seen Baine Bloodhoof that way, only once before. He and I were blind-drunk on Mulgore Firewater and we'd been up, smoking pipes and chasing spirits all night long… Okay, that sounds bad. I'll start at the beginning-I don't claim to know Chief Baine Bloodhoof, personally. I once had a touch-and-go, 'I have the nicest hut up in the hills, where there's plenty of game to shoot—you know, you should come sometime!' conversation with him at one of those do's on Elder Rise. And I was only on Elder Rise because I was from one of those big important bloodlines where, if your older brother is sick or busy or has run off to Sun Rock Retreat with a leggy Tauren girl who's got cute polka-dot spots on her hide, then it's your turn to go to Thunderbluff instead and represent the family. When I invited Baine himself to come hang out with me, I was nervous and drinking. When Baine actually showed up a few weeks after his father died, we ended up having a very sobering conversation. Baine went into this heartfelt, exhausted account of how he really felt about losing his father, and the Horde, worries over the late Vol'jin, and now Warchief Sylvanas, lots of things. You know, that's called 'chasing spirits', when Tauren sit together and we wax and we wane about all we've lost in life. Baine told me lots of things I could never bring myself to tell anyone else about my own chief. And nothing that could change my esteem for the poor kid. Well, kid—hell! Baine's a grown man, just a generation younger than me. But I guess that's how I see most young people these days. We get older, they keep getting younger…
I think I somehow earned Baine's trust on that night because I never blabbed about that conversation. In time, Baine was able to make eye contact with me again, he was able to speak to me normally around Thunderbluff, and whenever we did, I never brought up the past.
Baine gave me the same helpless look now that he had first given me on the night I offered him a pipe and my flask, and then he bared his soul. I walked up to him, really wanting to ask what was going on, but instead rubbed my hands together. The Bloodknights then made it to the top of the hill, and we soon lost our privacy.
The Bloodknights were all in red and black plate, and these faceguards that framed their faces like lion's manes. A note—those things don't actually protect their heads, in my opinion. They're just these… visors that show off their hairstyles and enable them to make all kinds of superior looks while they're beating you up.
Baine clearly hated everything about this too, but kept things formal, "Pathfinder Turaho…"
I inclined my head with respect, "Good morning, Chief Baine. It is an honor." No, it really wasn't. My porridge was going to burn any moment.
Now everyone was waiting for the woman. She was lagging far behind Baine and the rest, talking to a helpless straggler Warbrave about tiny white flowers she'd found on a bush, a surprise this time of year.
Okaaay…
Baine grabbed me, gave a harsh whisper, "If you love Mulgore, then please, behave."
"What does that mean? I'm older than you are and I behave fine."
"It's just that she's… Well, she's—"
The Bloodknights began to stare. Baine shut his mouth.
Eyup. I was about to help him out again with something else that was too big for him. I couldn't exactly say, 'Well, you're a growing boy! Good luck!' and go back to my porridge.
At last, the woman squeezed stepped through the line of Bloodknights and Warbraves. She took her place beside Chief Baine.
"May I present…" though Baine was trying to keep things the right tone when this was clearly some form of emergency, I picked up mischief and amusement in his voice just at the last moment, "Queen Saturna Arcanelia Whiteblade Blaize Sunstrider, who is also Matriarch of the Thalassian Bloodknights."
"Queen Saturna Sunstrider is fine, Baine. I keep reminding you of that—"
"Wait. Did Liadrin retire?!" I spat out, rather stupidly. I don't normally slip like that. But I was dizzied by all the fancy names, and that this was a queen, and then this sudden announcement that Lady Liadrin was no longer even the Blood Elf matriarch?
Baine got serious again, and offended in a flash, "Queen Saturna now leads them. We don't question it."
Queen Saturna. I saw a dark, velvety cloak, at first. It was hanging off the shoulders of a woman I kept telling myself that I could see. But it was hard to see her. I could see through her, to the rocks, to the bush by the empty path with its tiny winter flowers. And more disorienting, Saturna had plucked a twig of those flowers and was holding them in her gauntleted hand. For a few moments, I couldn't tell where she was, standing back there down the path, or standing closeby. One of her Bloodknights must have recognized the problem and politely stepped into the space, using his dark armor to close the gap.
Up until that moment, for me, her blue cloak could have been floating in the air…
Saturna, when I could finally see her better, was somehow blue. As pale blue as a seam of sky, running along the tops of the Mulgore hills in that moment. It distracted me. I almost missed the chance to do my proper bow. Sometimes, you make an allowance with women and just tell your brain not to stare because they're doing something new with makeup or their hair or jewelry. But this was Saturna's actual skin, what she was made of. Queen Saturna was a ghost. How…? I tried hard to remember my Elven history in that moment, but failed.
She and the other Blood Elves had been waiting on me for a goodly while to cease freaking out, my eyes darting all over the place, trying to settle on something solid and not keep seeing through their queen.
So, that was it. That was the first impression Queen Saturna Sunstrider always made on people. I could see how everyone had come to slow down, hear her out, give her whatever she wanted. No, not in that way… more like if you find a dog with a broken leg by the side of the road. You bundle them up and take them home, you give them warm milk, and a bath, a place in your own home, by the fire.
One look at Saturna and your mind flooded with shame and empathy for whatever tragic end she must have faced to be still wandering the world, trying to live out her life as a spectre. And even the ones who should have been used to her kept a stride back, unwilling to chance getting too close. It made me think of Sylvanas. But, no, Sylvanas is terrifying. Saturna had the aura of a young widow. Freshly hurt, terrified of being left to carry on.
I won't make the obvious joke here, about Saturna being better off as a widow, rather than being stuck married to Kael'thas and left to carry on…
But there was one advantage in it that I could also see. It was happening before our eyes right then, in fact. Few testers, you know the ones who always try to unseat the alphas? Even in the greatest herds, those challengers can't argue with death, bereavement. And Saturna had wanted to take a fine stroll up to see me, and talk loudly about how fine everything was. It was a waste of everyone's time. But nobody, not even Baine, had stopped her.
And I guessed another thing. Saturna forcing across so much pleasantness, it wasn't just because she was an overly-polite Elf. Saturna must have learned that it also made her seem more lively. When she was happy, when she was more upbeat, she was far easier for strangers to accept and not be frightened of. So there you go. Her strolling up to my hut, her pretending everything was okay… It was a strategy, but not the one I was thinking of. Never judge a book by its cover. Pale, deathly Saturna would have looked very defeated, otherwise.
"Here I am." Her voice, again, had that hollow lilt. But her smile, about the flowers, was still hanging on. Saturna bowed her head slightly in acknowledgement of me, and then extended a hand with a large dark ring on it for me to kiss. No, what she meant was, 'Whatever they think, I am still here. Dammit—I will live on.' I could feel it. It hurt me, too. My mother was a shaman. I'd met a lot of lost spirits in my lifetime.
Baine opened his mouth, to see me actually take the slender fingers offered and give Saturna what she expected in her position. Big Tauren or not, I genuflected (I think) and gently kissed the ancient ring on her little hand. Saturna had only just arrived, but I knew that someone like her would have struggled for years to have people think her a real person, not a ghoul, not a monster, not a waste of their space and time in the world of the living, and so grant her merely that.
I came back up stone-faced to cover for how rude I'd been initially. I donned the seriousness of a Warbrave. Baine looked relieved. Perhaps he thought I'd fallen off the Tauren-wagon for a few moments.
She gestured lightly, as if she were asking the time, "I asked Chief Baine to introduce me to a capable Tauren."
Charming. But that still explained nothing. I would be patient, for now. Sometimes, a damsel in distress has to work her way up to the big confession. Baine seemed annoyed that I hadn't asked them inside, yet. Great. I extended an arm for the whole entourage of Warbraves, Bloodknights, a Blood Elf Queen and the Tauren Chief to try and fit inside my tiny hut.
"…This is my first time in the hills of Mulgore and in, um… a hut." Saturna quickly amended, with a warm smile, "And it is a lovely hut. Truly."
Once again, the Warbraves knew better. They stayed outside and helped themselves to the cinnamon-milk. They didn't offer any to the Elves, either.
I began to show Saturna around. Almost literally. It was one room. The whole hut was a circle. I'm used to huts, but even I started to feel silly.
Saturna wanted to know about the glass beads hanging in a curtain, an animal hide I'd cured myself and stretched over a frame, some dusty pillows on the floor. Saturna then reached out to touch one of my dreamcatchers that was hanging up. Her index finger disappeared.
I cautioned, too late, "Oh! That one eats… nightmares."
Baine let out a tired breath. I guessed that he'd been wrestling with such indiscretions from other Tauren all morning. So I wasn't their first stop, eh?
Saturna brought her hand back, clutched at the golden brooch fastened around her cloak. It was a phoenix. The Thalassian seal. It was platinum, actually. I could tell. I'd hunted down enough treasure thieves over the years. It was very beautifully crafted.
As she was beautifully crafted. Anyway…
"Are all these the tools of your profession?" she asked next.
I narrowed eyes at Baine. He urged me to get on with it. You know, the old 'mystical Tauren' thing he was clearly pulling to make me seem more important than I was. Baine knew very well that I was a Pathfinder, only that. Now I was supposed to play it up and impress some Elf queen with it.
I did the little dance, 'Oh, by the elements!' and 'The mighty sun, the moon, the stars, all the spirits…' you know. But my mind was actually racing with the maelstrom of rumors I'd heard about this woman. I needed to catch up on my Blood Elf facts and fast.
Saturna Sunstrider. She was supposed to be just a ghost. Or, she was made of the Sunwell. No, she wasn't. She had been Kael'thas' mistress at the Black Temple. She had a catfight with Jaina Proudmoore once, and pulled out some of her hair. Right? She'd headbutted Sylvanas in the middle of a battle when Kael'thas directed her to do it. She was a Deathknight. No, she was never a Deathknight. Arthas had only tried to corrupt her. Saturna had ended her marriage with Kael'thas exactly twelve times. True or false? Queen Saturna couldn't leave him anymore because Kael'thas had somehow conjured her back to life like one of his demon pets and the truth was finally out about that. Had that happened? None of their children were even legitimately his… maybe.
Probably every strange article that I had read about her in Goblin Gentleman's Magazine (oops, well at least you know there's a chance I do buy it for the articles) did a tornado twister in my head while I pretended to be some sage and not a miscreant who reads dirty Goblin mags.
Saturna then stopped at a large old totem that was a bit battered because, well, I'd been battered with it a few times as a calf. By my mother. When I was being bad. Trust me, I needed a few good whackings back then. I still had it because I thought it was funny my mother kept it—it was among the things at her house when she died—or maybe I was planning to burn it out of revenge in a gargantuan bonfire, I wasn't sure yet.
I folded hands behind my back, strutted up sagely. I said in my best, low booming Tauren voice, "Ah, an old family relic. Very symbolic to my bloodline. It was my mother's…"
"His mother was a powerful shamaness. My father Cairne honored Farseer Akeisha once in a ceremony before the whole tribe."
That was true. Baine wasn't lying about that one.
"Well, these days, my mother mostly uses her rare power over the spirit world to visit me on holidays and give me a hard time."
Saturna gasped and looked up at me. Afraid, or intrigued, she couldn't have known yet, "Does she? Does your mother really?"
I shrugged, "We usually end up playing checkers. I suppose I'm more comfortable about spirits, erm, like yourself, because of my mother. In a way, I grew up with them…" I rattled off a few funny stories about having a ghost wolf pet for a summer. (Poor Ma hoped she wouldn't have to explain death to me that way, and I would still get the pet dog I wanted, but somehow it didn't work out.) And then one time as a teenager, when my mom was furious with me and also sick with a bad fever, I got a freshly slain, vengeful Grimtotem babysitter rather than getting to go to the summer corn dance.
Saturna smiled, but then it turned sad. She continued to stride elegantly about my hut. I kept looking from her to the other Bloodknights who'd assembled themselves along the wall. I scanned their faces for anyone I might have recognized. Let's see, what did I remember from old Burning Crusade articles… a fiery, smartmouthed redhead who needed smacking? No. A blonde, demon-obsessed pervert? No, not as such… How about the axe-wielding seductress who slept her way through all of Tempest Keep? Damn! So all the good ones were missing. Not that I could really tell, but I figured they might have certain… looks on their faces? Usually I can pick out the troublemakers in a group. I guessed all these were newbies.
Something else that got me, too. It wasn't fear in their eyes, or really respect. That wasn't what kept them from testing Saturna the alpha. There was something deeper. Something intense, something almost… cult-like? None of them would relax. No matter how casually Saturna was behaving, no matter what we were saying to her, all of us friendly, they looked ready to kill me and Baine both, with one whistle from this lady. Like trained dogs.
I made up my mind immediately that I didn't like it. I'd had enough.
"Welp. This was nice of you all to drop by. You know, if you'd like to see an authentic tipi next, my neighbor has a few set up behind his hunting lodge, about an hour's hike from here along the switchback. He's wise to tourists by now, though, so he may charge you…"
Saturna turned on me, just as annoyed, "Why do you live in a hut, Pathfinder Turaho, isolated so far away from everyone else?"
"Well, there's nothing wrong with living in a hut." I could feel Baine glaring at me again, "But, actually I do have a log house. I was never there, being a Pathfinder. I'm always traveling. And a family in our village was growing with more little ones. They needed it more than me, so I just moved in with my cousins instead. We're all over in Bloodhoof Village. That's not far from here. As a hobby, I started building this place to get some peace from them."
I squeezed around, to walk away from Saturna a few steps. Undead or dead things should be cold. She was warm, and there was this… I could swear it was an artificial heartbeat. It was too even, and I didn't need to hear it. Usually, you can't sense something like that unless you're standing almost ontop of someone, or lying in bed with them. It was starting to annoy me that someone out there, probably Kael'thas, had given her such a body. More than a ghost, infused with his magic. Another bad thought to set aside for much, much later.
"Turaho, are you saying to me that you just gave your home away? Because others were more in need?"
"I guess Orcs and Elves and things don't do that. Pretty normal, here. The village helped me build that house in the first place, and so it wasn't completely mine to begin with. I mean, it's not like lending someone your toothbrush."
Baine smoothed that over, "Communal property. It's as if Turaho gave the family the remainder of his pitcher full of water. Why watch them be thirsty?"
"How noble the Tauren are."
No, it was normal, or should have been. I have plenty of ignoble qualities. Well, fine. One point for me, then. I needed some good points.
Saturna closed the distance between us again. And all the little trinkets in my hut behind her faded into the cool milk of her being. Can't tell you how I'm sure, but, she was gaining confidence and that was the thing now changing her blue aura to white, to looking more normal.
"Baine. He's passed the first test."
Baine smiled with relief, "Oh, good. Please, everyone, sit."
The Bloodknights only sat down when Saturna motioned for them to. I was asking what 'the test' even was on my way down. In that scattered moment when all the Elves were worried about sitting on the floor, Baine nudged me, hard, to shut up.
Two of the Bloodknights walked to the rolled away thatch entrance and remained on their feet, hands resting over their swords. Each man and woman there had a black shield on their back, emblazoned with the red phoenix. Cute, but I was pretty sure I could use my horns to bowl them over and toss them both aside in a pinch. And Baine, who was bigger and younger than me, could likely crash through a hut wall if he needed to make his own exit.
Now that Saturna was more calm, sort of… solidified, I was able to look at her features like any normal mortal woman. She looked far too young to be a queen, and also somehow a mother of three. Probably due to more of Kael'thas' vain magic. With the Bloodknights' so-called devotion making me sick and her sashaying about my hut in an unnecessary fog of mystery, I decided that I wasn't as impressed as I first was. …
"Taur-ra-ho? Have I been saying that correctly?"
I got back into things. Being in the moment, rather than reading her between the moments. Saturna was nervous about mispronouncing my name. "Um, sort of. It's not… it isn't like the word, 'Tauren', like you've been doing. It's more like, taking a 'turn'. You turn right into it, 'Tur-ah-ho.'"
"Ah. That's nice. I assumed it was more complicated." Saturna smiled, embarrassed.
Baine tried, "It's an old name. I think it means… 'Tauren man'? No, 'Tauren man in charge' because of the inflection? Something like that? 'Boss-man?' "
I nodded at the last one to help and just get this going. Hell if I know what my name actually means. I'd been trying to figure out since forever. Mainly, I think it's an in-joke among my prankster uncles. Honestly, I was more concerned that my porridge was past-burnt. (I think one of the Warbraves outside wisely kicked dirt over the campfire to put it out.) I also felt that a queen, especially an elven queen, should be able to manage herself a lot better, and at least tell me why she'd crash-landed onto my hut. Baine should have taken over by now, but must've already tried that a few times at other Taurens' homes already and it hadn't gone well.
Then, all of a sudden it was coming in a deluge, "Are you a full paladin? You surely have the mindset for it. A sense of justice, helping others…"
"Technically, I only—"
Then, before I could answer, "No, you aren't. You're not a full Sunwalker yet. I could feel that as well, but I wanted to confirm."
"Look, I took all my rites. I just haven't been initiated yet."
She raised a blonde eyebrow, quick, "And just why not?"
Then I was back on the novice's bench, fumbling about how I hadn't done my Light exercises.
"I'm a grown up, I'll do it when I feel good and ready to. What's this finally about?"
Saturna looked over at Baine, accusing him of something. Baine flickered his ears backward, itched behind his neck, rather than take issue with it.
Her voice dipped at me, "You're grown up, alright."
I must've flinched. What was that? What was she doing to me just now? Then Saturna patted my arm, claimed that it was alright.
Now, Baine was looking completely the other way.
Next, came her whisper, "I need your help. I really do."
Wait… wait. First I have a nice hut. Then I'm not good enough of a paladin. Now she's feeling up my arm, telling me to relax? She was all over the place! Then, I got it. Saturna was good at the paladin part, coming in with her minions, reading how well versed I was with the Light. She was managing with the queen part; she knew how to win me over and get me to take her seriously as a member of the Sunstrider royal family. But she wasn't good at all of it, though, like the part where she needed to spy on me and trick me into doing whatever she wanted.
I heated, "Then you'd better tell me, now, why you think a Blood Elf queen needs to flirt with a Tauren in a hut, just to fix another one of Kael'thas' TERRIBLE problems!"
Now, the other Blood Elves started complaining. Finally, they talk, but only to put down their host. Saturna waited and let them finish insulting me.
But I'd embarrassed her. She would have to clear her name, immediately. No more nonsense.
