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Chapter 37: The Wish
I had a seat on the cool, tile floor of that magical bathroom. I let out a little 'oof' as I did so. It really was cold! I wondered how Greatfather Winter was faring, sitting on a chilly toilet seat. Arthas had nothing on us.
Sorry, had to do it.
I went, "Well, Greatfather Winter, I don't think you can bring me a woman for the holiday. Alessandre met his wife and I guess Kael'thas was eventually driven to locate Saturna, seeing as how she wasn't dead. We all know what I did. What I had to do."
"Turaho, you may have been called a 'romancer' in your life, as a young bull kicking up his heels in Tanaris—"
"Hold up! You know about that?"
"I see when you've been bad or good, Turaho."
"Even when I…"
"Yes."
"It wasn't my fault, you know. We were in Un'goro Crater, it was supposed to be a cave rave, but then these titan-forged rock monsters totally ruined it!"
"Turaho, you're losing even me…"
"Sorry."
"Any matchmaker would have a time trying to sort you out anyway, Turaho, because you're so angry. Some people hate their pasts or something in particular that they have done. You hate the world."
"I… I don't…" But what could I say to that?
"You lost your mother. Then, fate was really unkind and took your dog Zoca away from you. That they are spirits now isn't a real comfort. You are here and they are there. It is not the same."
"Not the same." I shook my head, stared at nothing.
"You lost your role as a Pathfinder. You are an almost-Sunwalker. You were pushed into that, too. Any notion of that being the right path for you was obliterated when it was Baine's choice in the end, not fully yours."
"It still might—"
"Nonsense. You're not so foolish. You have always wanted to choose things for yourself, you are your own man. And though I am glad you got here..." He eyed me, "Finally. This whole adventure has been, for lack of a better word, a bitch. Am I right? You had Mulgore and the very holiday taken away from you. Meydiri was lost as well. Lost before you even first encountered her, Turaho. Your closest friends at the moment are a Goblin shiftier than sand…"
"Two Goblins. Bonnie's the other one."
"And another mortal enemy besides the Venture Co. A Night Elf assassin!"
"Well. You like the guy."
"I do like the guy. Sometimes, Al is full of crap but I do like how he got his life together."
I smirked, "I'll tell Al you said that."
Greatfather Winter looked annoyed at me.
"And now you have a choice in front of you. The very Blood Elves who have been trying to ruin you have offered for you to join their ranks. How horrible for you."
I waited for the twist, the good part. There was none.
"People who want to find a better life, while they live, they tend to need to let go of old hatreds. Crawl out of their old selves like a shell. But what can I guide you to do, Turaho, when you hate the world?"
"I don't…" But the anger was there, gnawing away at me. I didn't even know where I was going to lay my head down after all this was over. How could I face Mulgore, or Thunderbluff without Meydiri? The Horde felt so foreign to me after I'd seen the nastiest underbelly of Silvermoon, and Sylvanas for that matter. The sugarplum fairy costume should not have been the thing to take it over the top for me, but funnily enough, it had.
Being a Sunwalker felt bleak. Being a Pathfinder had lost me my dog. My beautiful Zoca. There was nothing left.
"You sure you don't have a sexy lady stashed in your gift bag somewhere there, Greatfather Winter?"
"Nor do you love yourself."
"That's… ridiculous."
"You can't even say it. Can you?"
"It's such a silly thing to say. I can't."
"No, you can't."
I was raw. I didn't like it. I covered my face. "I do good work. I am going to finish this investigation if it kills me."
"It may yet do so."
"Will you stop being so dark! I've kept a good sense of humor through all this, you know. Most people wouldn't! And what are you doing right now anyway, where does the hope part come in?"
"I can work the miracle that you need this season. What you truly need. But you have to be willing. And you need to realize it for yourself. If not," he sat back, "then it's not coming from you, is it?"
"I don't understand this." I did. But I was being a butt about it. I just didn't like to think of myself as so broken. "Greatfather Winter, I wonder if you would indulge me about the investigation. Not that I'm avoiding you, and maybe I am, but there is something only you can answer for me."
Greatfather Winter didn't have much of a choice, did he? We were both trapped there. He frowned slightly.
"Al said that you, and the Night Elves, the priestesses in fact, had been discussing what to do about their poor tree."
"Ah. That is true."
"I kind of followed it. The tree is sick, so they asked you if you had any ideas. And then you said to them 'Hey I know someone who has the same problem.' But Al didn't want to say who that is." I waited on him. I made it clear that I was willing to wait forever if need be. Which was worse, because Greatfather Winter had already been waiting forever for me to come, according to him. "Who else is sick, like their tree?"
It's fun watching a millennia-something-old entity crack. He shuddered and his face changed completely. To something like that of a man who needed a cigarette. "A'dal."
"What?"
He watched me. I worked it through in my mind. I wondered aloud, "That… would have immense consequences for what is left of Outland, Shatthrath City, certainly. And for the Draenei. Did Velen, a prophet, not prophesy that something was up with A'dal? A Naaru that they all hold in high esteem?"
Greatfather Winter stroked his beard.
"Is A'dal dying?"
"It is not for me to solve this entire investigation for you, Turaho." Greatfather Winter continued to stroke his beard. But it was a nervous habit. I was beginning to see that. He needed something to do with his hands.
Then, something sparked in me. Maybe it was undoing even Greatfather Winter, in a way. "I don't hate the whole world, and I don't hate myself."
"Oh?" He asked like a teacher who knew full well that I knew the lesson.
"I hate that it's been a rough few years. I hate that our politics, on Azeroth, Horde versus Alliance though it's not supposed to be like that, are still so broken. I hate this cold war going on between our factions. I hate Blood Elves being accused of something by Night Elves when we're supposed to be past that—and using the Cenarion Circle to spread those lies. That is beyond unethical."
"Is that so?"
"I hate that… I hate that I had to attack someone I loved! I loathe that Kael'thas Sunstrider felt it was some game, to put me in that position! I hate that his wife seduced me, or she tried to! I hate that everyone is so desperate these days!"
"Fascinating."
"But, Greatfather Winter, if you're so wise or holy or whatever, I do not hate myself!"
"Good!"
"And I miss my mother!"
"You have every right to. She's lovely."
I peered at him.
Greatfather Winter paused stroking his beard, "We played checkers the other day. She kept trying to convince me to cook up a woman for you, other than Meydiri. She'd heard about the other people I'd helped. Like Alessandre."
My mouth hung open. "Ma was here? In here with you?"
"Oh sure. She's been a constant comfort. I don't know how I would have made it through this holiday without her."
"But neither of you wanted to tell me where you were."
"Turaho, your mother is very strong-willed. I had no power to do so on my own, and well, the rest was up to her. You are her son."
"This is beyond silly."
"She didn't want to ruin it for you, I suppose. She didn't want to take this one thing away from you. This victory."
"I am going to kill her."
"Hate the world again?"
"No! And I never did!"
"So you are going to stop acting like it, then? Like you are the most unworthy, impossible grump that ever clomped across the face of the earth?"
I eyed Greatfather Winter sideways. "How did my Ma figure out that you were here, by the way?"
"Well, ghosts walk through walls don't they? She just… sort of swifted all through Faltheriel's house until she bumped into me."
My eye twitched. "Let's just… let's just go."
"And she was afraid that if she spoke with you—"
"That I would read it right on her face, that she found Greatfather Winter."
"Because you—"
"I can do that, yes." I kicked at the bathroom tile. "I am a… skilled Pathfinder, against my will. Still am. Always will be."
We heard voices just outside… I dunno how it works. Wherever we were in this magical dimension, lost in time and space. Faltheriel and Dannox were talking in excited tones.
"Is there a kill switch for this thing?" I asked Greatfather Winter.
"A what?"
"Sorry. Goblin speak for pulling the plug. Ending all this in an emergency. Like, I dunno, a way to crush us like bugs in here if nothing goes to plan. I'm sure Kael'thas would put that kind of failsafe in place."
Greatfather Winter turned red. "I'm sure he would. I hadn't even thought of that myself."
"Probably more risky to end you, Greatfather Winter, when there's a certain hard-as-nails Tauren investigator wandering around the kingdom bound to figure it all out, than when he's inside of the magical cage and doomed to be crushed as well. Two birds with one stone."
Greatfather winter winced, shook his head of the awful notion.
"I know, Kael'thas is a big creep. We'd better move, then. I uh… what do you need me to say? To work your miracle?"
"First, I want you to consider the following statement carefully, Turaho."
"Okay…"
"Most people, who had their legs broken and were badly intimidated by their foes—"
"Psht! I'm not afraid of those—"
"That's not called listening. Turaho, most people who were so badly used by an enemy would never, ever consider joining them. Not ever. And yet, you find yourself in a conundrum regarding the Blood Elves."
I stared at him. "There is a fine line between love and hate."
"Ah—there we go, that hope thing is getting lost again. How am I supposed to work my miracle when you're like this, waffling on the subject."
"I'm too old to start over and have a new life. Let alone halfway across the world. That's asking too much."
"Aht! There you go again, Turaho. I have more of an excuse to be a crochety old grouch than you do, you know. And that version of you I tried to sell you earlier, the version of you that had fallen too far and hated the world and didn't see a point in anything?"
"I didn't buy it, did I?"
Greatfather Winter winked at me. He hopped down off his toilet-throne and strutted over. It put him about knee height when I stood up, But that old Dwarf still had plenty of power. The magnitude of that man and what he had done with me, using simple words. I'm sure I liked him. Well, I hated him slightly. But I didn't think he'd be the sort to resent me for it. I could have my likes and dislikes in this life, according to Greatfather Winter, as long as I didn't turn those painful thoughts on myself. Nor on those who did not deserve it.
People on a naughty list about as long as my arm and still counting, by the way.
"Turaho, what do you want for the holiday?" Greatfather Winter asked me. He put gloved hands on his hips, bent back to see way up, the expression on my face.
I thought about many wishes I could make. Could I bring Meydiri back by some miracle? Would she even appreciate that? Would she immediately set about trying to shoot me again? Or Zoca? Could I wish Kael'thas at the bottom of the Eastern Sea? Would that make Saturna a widow in the way that I preferred, or would that make her and her Blood Knights my new mortal enemies? It felt like I had too many of those already. I could, then again, wish Alessandre out of his fine leather clothing and into some rags for once. With a bad hair day that lasts about a decade so I feel better about myself. Heck, I could also wish for Cokie Whitefeathers… don't laugh because I remembered her name after all this time.
But I also sensed that there were several wrong answers. This was a test. Like Al's test, and Kael'thas' test that he failed. I had to take this seriously. Then the lights flashed off, and for a terrible moment I really thought I'd run out of time and my life was over.
"I want to get the hell out of here!"
Next thing you know, the lights came back. In fact, it was the lonely chirruping of some winter bird (though Quel'thalas is usually pretty warm), and then greens and gold also came back to my vision. In fact, we were standing in a road. A finely manicured lawn spread out on either side of us. Alessandre came into view next. He was walking from some bushes, I realized. A few Night Elven heads were ducking up and down again behind those bushes.
Al's hair looked a mess! I liked that. But his fine leather armor was about the same. Ugh.
"…Turaho?" Al was as nervous about the whole thing as I was. "You, and… you," He looked over at Greatfather Winter, "Both of you just appeared."
Greatfather Winter griped, "He wished that his hocks hurt and he wanted to go home. I had enough juice to get us just this far, though."
Al gave a reverent bow to the old Dwarf. He was already walking past Al to his would-be protectors on the other side of the sunny road. I realized they were all Sentinels.
"You all ventured out far into Hordelands for this rescue mission."
Al chanced shaking my hand. "Good thing we did, too. You were in there too long. Turaho, I called for backup. But you're truly alright? You're in one piece?"
"I thought I might have to sleep with the husband." I decided not to make a joke about that. Al was looking strangely flustered. I figured there was a weird dig in there about vain Night Elves and wanting to be the most handsome acquaintance your non-Night Elf friend knows, or something or other, but I was too tired for that. I looked behind us. There was no sign of the Ghostlands, no sign of Faltheriel's nightmare house and his too-handsome, stripper-slash-jailor. Greatfather Winter really was too powerful to be contained. It was a wonder how Kael'thas and Faltheriel had done it at all. And then I realized Greatfather Winter could have sent us anyplace on Azeroth, but this was as far as he could manage. Something was up.
"And Happy Winter's Veil!" Al shook my hand again, shouted it.
I grabbed both his hands in mine, "Is today the day?! Did we make it?"
"We did! You rescued Greatfather Winter just in time, you… you brilliant jackass! Ha!"
We cheered. I didn't expect to hug him, but then I did. "Wait, where are you all going? He's my prisoner."
Al had turned to go back to the bushes. He stopped and turned on his heel. "Prisoner? Greatfather Winter is headed back to Darnassus. He needs to rest before making his holiday rounds today. And, we have unfinished business."
"Unfinished business involving A'dal? I do wonder, how much help you think Greatfather Winter is going to be to you, even when he knows A'dal, but A'dal still can't help," I cut in.
Like a knife, apparently. Al truly didn't like that. He looked me up and down. Sentinels raised their weapons, trained them on me. Al didn't stop them. Not yet.
Al narrowed his eyes at me. "What do you mean, A'dal still can't help?"
"Kael'thas is still involved in this. And I know exactly how."
Al lifted his chin. "So what are you going to do with the information? Cover it up?"
"Al, are you about to fight me, in order to stop me from doing what I need to do?"
Hush.
"Al. I need Greatfather Winter to prove to the Horde who did the kidnapping."
"Turaho, I'm not going to tell you again how much the Alliance needs Greatfather Winter, to heal our world tree. And I don't care what you say about A'dal. Until we take Greatfather Winter, try it, and see the results for ourselves, you know I have to treat this like you're bluffing."
Al laid a hand over his dagger, hitched at his belt.
I reached for my… well. I didn't have anything like that on me now. I was sure I had a small knife, but Dannox must have found a way to disarm me back at the house. I would never go in empty-handed.
Al backed away, going for the shadows of the shrubbery beside the road. The Sentinels lowered their weapons. Greatfather Winter was busy getting a hooded cape put over him, to help hide his identity.
I called over to Al, "Is your part in this done then, Al? While you're away, feathering your nest with your prize, I will be handling Kael'thas and his Blood Knights however I see fit. You'll lose lead, there."
Al grinned at me. "Alright, Turaho. You're ahead by far, I admit. But not even death could stop me from coming back to handle the Horde before, in their own territory. Trust me when I say, this isn't over." He pointed with his knife, "I want Kael'thas' head on a pike for what he did. To me, to Greatfather Winter, and to the Kaldorei people."
I didn't watch Al do his fancy meld into the leaves thing. I strutted down the golden street like I owned the place. Which I did. I was a Horde investigator in Horde lands and I was about to blow the whole thing open. I just needed to see a Goblin man about a mech suit.
Had Fitz said something about crawling land mines and blasters? Not a bad present to myself, I think.
