05-22-2020, 10:36 AM
The watch had been largely quiet in the earliest hours of the night, but the desert, in all its emptiness, also came with a strange degree of uncomfortable serenity. Despite the tome that was perched on her lap, Vel’s eyes hadn’t truly left the camp they had seen erected in the distance--having readily fallen into the role of long-distance watch to accommodate the fact her human companion’s eyes were simply not as suited to the dim moonlight.
Uther had fallen into silence himself, the soft glow of his amulet shedding just enough light to make the intricate texts of the heavy libram on his lap legible. It was a rare focus to see from the paladin, one she was loathe interrupt, but the periodic twitch of her fingers betrayed a degree of unrest from the elf.
For the first time in likely over a half hour, the pale, luminescent sheen of Vel’s eyes refocused onto her friend and companion.
“Uther…” she started, her voice low. “Are you… alright with talking, presently?”
Uther immediately looked up from the pages of the heavy book.
“Of course, Vel,” he returned. “What’s troubling you?”
Everything.
The mental response snapped back like the fracturing of ice, though the elf maintained her even-toned composure as her hesitant question was poised.
“Do… you think everyone will be alright?”
Vel looked at Uther with a degree of apprehension, and he responded with a small thump as the libram was closed on his lap and his gaze shifted up to the cloudless night sky, drawing a heavy breath as he let the question hove for the scantest moment.
“I can hardly imagine the pain our families are going through,” he said. “It’s a bitter thing to know that the ones you love are suffering needlessly.”
He turned back to Vel and offered a kind smile.
“But they’re strong. And when we return, we’ll all be so happy to be reunited, that all that pain will become such a distant memory that we’ll find ourselves wondering if it was even real.”
In response, Vel felt her ears flatten faintly against the side of her head, her eyes dropping to the course sand that spread out beneath them and their sleeping companions. Her lips tightened.
“...they were talking to me the entire time we were there,” she replied, her voice lower than it was previously.
She didn’t see Uther’s smile drop, but heard the whispered “Oh Vel…” and the shift of him moving across the sand as he pulled her into a tight embrace, his warm arms countering the grave-touched chill of her own skin. “I’m so sorry.”
The elf’s normal instinct to tense at the unexpected touch was rapidly overwhelmed by the reassurance that accompanied it, and instead of resisting, she found herself slumping limply into the embrace, her head resting beneath Uther’s chin as her arms pressed defensively against her chest.
“...I know Gil is alright, at least. He was reaching out too,” she offered, her voice catching in a shaky sigh that quickly turned into a small scoff. “I don’t know how you’re able to keep smiling like you do.”
With her face hidden beneath her veil of white hair, she couldn’t see Uther’s smile return.
“It’s not easy,” he said. “I feel pain and despair like anyone else. But I also know that, for the rest of my life, people will look to me for guidance through hard times. No matter how terrible things may become, no matter how hopeless they may seem, it’s important that we don’t give up hope.”
Vel’s ear twitched as the paladin took a breath, and she felt his embrace tighten slightly around her.
“That’s the ‘why’ of it,” he continued. “As for the how? I try to imagine the happy things. The look on my father’s face when we return triumphant, his libram and hammer in tow. Someday, when this is all over, having to scold my children for the same things my parents scolded me for. Even small things like bacon at breakfast or hearthstone tournaments. Snowball fights. Something that brings a smile to my face, if only for a moment. Then I wear that smile for as long as I can.”
...is that really it?
A small “hmph” sounded in the back of Vel’s throat as she shifted her head in consideration, the long arch of her brow furrowing. It made a degree of sense. On a base level.
“...the last time I can say I… really laughed or smiled outside of alcoholic influence,” the elf mused slowly. “Rhonin came home from the Dalaran bar crawl late. Late enough it had rolled into my birthday.”
...my birthday passed didn’t it…
“He gave me the… most utterly ridiculous speech at the top of his lungs as soon as he walked through the door. ‘Citizens of Dalaran, raise your eyes to the sky and observe the ascension of archmage Velameestra WIndrunner’ followed by a literal string of the most over the top deeds and accolades. He was very drunk, so it was all slurring together and it was just so… absolutely ridiculous I couldn’t help myself.”
...they’re going through everything I was terrified of…
The elf leaned back, breaking the hug as she resumed her position on the sand, her eyes flickering back toward the distant light of the campfires that marked the presence of the camp they had been watching.
“Maybe when we get back, I’ll feel the drive to be so unashamedly dramatic enough to throw a similar speech at him. He had… just started considering going for archmage before we left.”
Uther also leaned back, his hands resting on the sand. “I know Rhonin would love that. The stoic, no nonsense Velameestra Windrunner delivering an impassioned over the top speech? Though such an act might make him question if it was truly you,” he smiled again, a teasing edge to his voice.
“I’m sure it’ll be evident the moment I get halfway through the first paragraph and I realize my voice tone has not shifted. Speech inflections were never my strong suit,” Vel replied, the edge of a smirk touching her lips as she opted to lean into the tease, though the expression faltered as soon as it had come.
“I’m sorry. I know this is… a mess for everyone, not just me. It’s just… difficult feeling like everything is out of your control.”
Uther sighed.
“The last year has been a long, painful lesson in how to deal with loss of control,” he replied. “Arator was snatched right in front of my eyes. No one would believe us about the cult. We traveled a whole continent searching for my father. We’ve never been in control, Vel.”
The elf’s ears flattened again, her eyes flickering back to Uther just in time to see his expression darken before it was once again lightened with a smile as he looked back at her.
“But we keep fighting, as hard as we can. And look…” Uther gestured at the desert landscape. “What do you see here?”
Vel followed his gesture, a bead of silence falling between them before the flat reflection of her voice returned, “...a desert?”
The answer earned a chuckle from the paladin.
“You’re not wrong, but it’s so much more than that,” he continued. “A desert on our world. We narrowly escaped death by traveling to the land of the dead. We made it back, emerging in a hostile city, quite literally in the middle of them summoning a monster. And here we are. Our enemies try so very hard to undo us, and we somehow manage to turn what should be felling blows into minor setbacks and delays.”
Uther looked back at Vel, his expression kind, but his eyes afire with determination. “It may not seem it, Vel… but make no mistake. We are winning this war.”
Vel looked back him blankly for a long moment, a mixture of incredulousness and frustration touching the edges of her complexion, before she sighed, a shadow of cautious amusement on her face.
...and those that stand in our way will burn.
“You know, Uther,” she said slowly. “The infectious nature of that bravado is starting to concern me. I almost believe you, and can’t let the burden of harsh practicality and realism fall solely on Seria.”
Uther laughed from his belly, a hand raising to his mouth to muffle the noise from reaching their sleeping companions or carry on the still night air. “No, I don’t suppose that would be very fair now, would it?” he replied as he caught his breath.
“But, regardless…” Vel continued. “There was actually something I was intending on talking to you about beyond, well, all this…” she gestured absently at the desert, the tone of her voice once again acquiring a more grim edge. “I’m… concerned about Kael’thas and Frostmourne. Even more so now given the time passage. If I can bludgeon my way through whatever interference is happening--which I will--I’m intending on making contact.”
“As well you should,” Uther replied, catching the elf off-guard with the sudden acceptance of the statement--enough so that her eyes were abruptly pulled back in his direction. “I know better than most the dangers of believing in righteous vengeance. All it took was losing a loved one to get me to cross dark lines. I can’t imagine what he must be feeling. The most righteous among us are capable of terrible things when we believe we act in the name of justice.”
The paladin ran his fingers over the cover of his father’s libram. “Something I learned first hand, as well as from within these pages.”
Vel blinked, her eyes flickering down at the libram before shifting back to the desert again. “...well… that and… if rumors wind up being true. It can… lead to desperation I hope to avoid,” she continued cautiously. “Most people don’t perceive such magics favorably, and most people aren’t as willing to trust its scholars as… you… are. It’s… a line that’s easy to stray from. I… hope they haven’t…” she trailed off for a moment, letting the silence settle again before continuing. “...I’m… ultimately not asking you to commit to anything. I don’t even know if I can reach them right now. But it’s a…. Consideration, I suppose. You are the heir to Lordaeron, after all. One I’m likely going to present to Victor in the future as well if… that situation can be resolved.”
She sighed heavily, her ears flattening against her skull again as she raked her slender fingers back through her hair.
“...my double life is coming to a rapid end. I realized as much following the Tower of Ill’galar. For whatever that means....”
“Leave the hearts and minds of the people to me, Vel,” Uther said, interrupting the trailing words with yet another abrupt show of confidence. “I trust that you know what you’re doing. I may not understand the mechanics of it, but I know that I trust you. And I won’t let anyone come after you. They simply fear what they don’t understand. Fortunately, I’m skilled at making people understand.”
Vel allowed a faint smile to touch the edge of her lips. “Thank you, Uther,” she replied. “I wish I could offer the same. But. I suppose repayment for that will just have to be settled with the continued use of my arcane expertise.”
“Don’t look at it as me helping you, or you helping me,” said Uther. “So far as I am concerned, we’re both fighting as hard as we can on behalf of our entire world.”
Another small “hmph” sounded in the back of Vel’s throat. “Alright…”
“And I mean this Vel,” Uther continued, drawing her attention back to his face again. “I don’t think any of us could have come this far on our own. But as long as we stay together… I don’t believe our victory to be a matter of hope. Merely a matter of time.”
...I… don’t understand… how he can let himself remains so optimistic…
“...Impossible is merely improbable. I guess I’ll focus on that as my mantra going forward. Thank you, Uther. I’ll… feel better once there’s something tangible I can work on, and we can start making our way home.”
“Of course, Vel. Until then, if you’d like to be distracted… did you know that I once gave an award to a scarecrow?”
“...why did you give an award to a scarecrow?” Vel asked, a degree of wary hesitation to the question.
Uther offered a distinctly childish grin as the elf took the bait of the joke, his voice cracking as he delivered the punchline. “He was outstanding in his field.”
Vel replied with a drawn-out, blank stare, her gaze judgemental and hard before she replied with an affirming, “Alright. Clever.”
She turned her gaze back toward the desert, a beat passing between them before she broke the silence again.
“You must have been straw-stuck.”
It was Uther’s turn to stare blankly for a moment before he doubled over in laughter, a hand raising to his mouth to attempt to muffle the noise from carrying across the sands, though it was likely fortunate that the watch would be turning over in short order.
Vel just offered a smug smirk in response.
Uther had fallen into silence himself, the soft glow of his amulet shedding just enough light to make the intricate texts of the heavy libram on his lap legible. It was a rare focus to see from the paladin, one she was loathe interrupt, but the periodic twitch of her fingers betrayed a degree of unrest from the elf.
For the first time in likely over a half hour, the pale, luminescent sheen of Vel’s eyes refocused onto her friend and companion.
“Uther…” she started, her voice low. “Are you… alright with talking, presently?”
Uther immediately looked up from the pages of the heavy book.
“Of course, Vel,” he returned. “What’s troubling you?”
Everything.
The mental response snapped back like the fracturing of ice, though the elf maintained her even-toned composure as her hesitant question was poised.
“Do… you think everyone will be alright?”
Vel looked at Uther with a degree of apprehension, and he responded with a small thump as the libram was closed on his lap and his gaze shifted up to the cloudless night sky, drawing a heavy breath as he let the question hove for the scantest moment.
“I can hardly imagine the pain our families are going through,” he said. “It’s a bitter thing to know that the ones you love are suffering needlessly.”
He turned back to Vel and offered a kind smile.
“But they’re strong. And when we return, we’ll all be so happy to be reunited, that all that pain will become such a distant memory that we’ll find ourselves wondering if it was even real.”
In response, Vel felt her ears flatten faintly against the side of her head, her eyes dropping to the course sand that spread out beneath them and their sleeping companions. Her lips tightened.
“...they were talking to me the entire time we were there,” she replied, her voice lower than it was previously.
She didn’t see Uther’s smile drop, but heard the whispered “Oh Vel…” and the shift of him moving across the sand as he pulled her into a tight embrace, his warm arms countering the grave-touched chill of her own skin. “I’m so sorry.”
The elf’s normal instinct to tense at the unexpected touch was rapidly overwhelmed by the reassurance that accompanied it, and instead of resisting, she found herself slumping limply into the embrace, her head resting beneath Uther’s chin as her arms pressed defensively against her chest.
“...I know Gil is alright, at least. He was reaching out too,” she offered, her voice catching in a shaky sigh that quickly turned into a small scoff. “I don’t know how you’re able to keep smiling like you do.”
With her face hidden beneath her veil of white hair, she couldn’t see Uther’s smile return.
“It’s not easy,” he said. “I feel pain and despair like anyone else. But I also know that, for the rest of my life, people will look to me for guidance through hard times. No matter how terrible things may become, no matter how hopeless they may seem, it’s important that we don’t give up hope.”
Vel’s ear twitched as the paladin took a breath, and she felt his embrace tighten slightly around her.
“That’s the ‘why’ of it,” he continued. “As for the how? I try to imagine the happy things. The look on my father’s face when we return triumphant, his libram and hammer in tow. Someday, when this is all over, having to scold my children for the same things my parents scolded me for. Even small things like bacon at breakfast or hearthstone tournaments. Snowball fights. Something that brings a smile to my face, if only for a moment. Then I wear that smile for as long as I can.”
...is that really it?
A small “hmph” sounded in the back of Vel’s throat as she shifted her head in consideration, the long arch of her brow furrowing. It made a degree of sense. On a base level.
“...the last time I can say I… really laughed or smiled outside of alcoholic influence,” the elf mused slowly. “Rhonin came home from the Dalaran bar crawl late. Late enough it had rolled into my birthday.”
...my birthday passed didn’t it…
“He gave me the… most utterly ridiculous speech at the top of his lungs as soon as he walked through the door. ‘Citizens of Dalaran, raise your eyes to the sky and observe the ascension of archmage Velameestra WIndrunner’ followed by a literal string of the most over the top deeds and accolades. He was very drunk, so it was all slurring together and it was just so… absolutely ridiculous I couldn’t help myself.”
...they’re going through everything I was terrified of…
The elf leaned back, breaking the hug as she resumed her position on the sand, her eyes flickering back toward the distant light of the campfires that marked the presence of the camp they had been watching.
“Maybe when we get back, I’ll feel the drive to be so unashamedly dramatic enough to throw a similar speech at him. He had… just started considering going for archmage before we left.”
Uther also leaned back, his hands resting on the sand. “I know Rhonin would love that. The stoic, no nonsense Velameestra Windrunner delivering an impassioned over the top speech? Though such an act might make him question if it was truly you,” he smiled again, a teasing edge to his voice.
“I’m sure it’ll be evident the moment I get halfway through the first paragraph and I realize my voice tone has not shifted. Speech inflections were never my strong suit,” Vel replied, the edge of a smirk touching her lips as she opted to lean into the tease, though the expression faltered as soon as it had come.
“I’m sorry. I know this is… a mess for everyone, not just me. It’s just… difficult feeling like everything is out of your control.”
Uther sighed.
“The last year has been a long, painful lesson in how to deal with loss of control,” he replied. “Arator was snatched right in front of my eyes. No one would believe us about the cult. We traveled a whole continent searching for my father. We’ve never been in control, Vel.”
The elf’s ears flattened again, her eyes flickering back to Uther just in time to see his expression darken before it was once again lightened with a smile as he looked back at her.
“But we keep fighting, as hard as we can. And look…” Uther gestured at the desert landscape. “What do you see here?”
Vel followed his gesture, a bead of silence falling between them before the flat reflection of her voice returned, “...a desert?”
The answer earned a chuckle from the paladin.
“You’re not wrong, but it’s so much more than that,” he continued. “A desert on our world. We narrowly escaped death by traveling to the land of the dead. We made it back, emerging in a hostile city, quite literally in the middle of them summoning a monster. And here we are. Our enemies try so very hard to undo us, and we somehow manage to turn what should be felling blows into minor setbacks and delays.”
Uther looked back at Vel, his expression kind, but his eyes afire with determination. “It may not seem it, Vel… but make no mistake. We are winning this war.”
Vel looked back him blankly for a long moment, a mixture of incredulousness and frustration touching the edges of her complexion, before she sighed, a shadow of cautious amusement on her face.
...and those that stand in our way will burn.
“You know, Uther,” she said slowly. “The infectious nature of that bravado is starting to concern me. I almost believe you, and can’t let the burden of harsh practicality and realism fall solely on Seria.”
Uther laughed from his belly, a hand raising to his mouth to muffle the noise from reaching their sleeping companions or carry on the still night air. “No, I don’t suppose that would be very fair now, would it?” he replied as he caught his breath.
“But, regardless…” Vel continued. “There was actually something I was intending on talking to you about beyond, well, all this…” she gestured absently at the desert, the tone of her voice once again acquiring a more grim edge. “I’m… concerned about Kael’thas and Frostmourne. Even more so now given the time passage. If I can bludgeon my way through whatever interference is happening--which I will--I’m intending on making contact.”
“As well you should,” Uther replied, catching the elf off-guard with the sudden acceptance of the statement--enough so that her eyes were abruptly pulled back in his direction. “I know better than most the dangers of believing in righteous vengeance. All it took was losing a loved one to get me to cross dark lines. I can’t imagine what he must be feeling. The most righteous among us are capable of terrible things when we believe we act in the name of justice.”
The paladin ran his fingers over the cover of his father’s libram. “Something I learned first hand, as well as from within these pages.”
Vel blinked, her eyes flickering down at the libram before shifting back to the desert again. “...well… that and… if rumors wind up being true. It can… lead to desperation I hope to avoid,” she continued cautiously. “Most people don’t perceive such magics favorably, and most people aren’t as willing to trust its scholars as… you… are. It’s… a line that’s easy to stray from. I… hope they haven’t…” she trailed off for a moment, letting the silence settle again before continuing. “...I’m… ultimately not asking you to commit to anything. I don’t even know if I can reach them right now. But it’s a…. Consideration, I suppose. You are the heir to Lordaeron, after all. One I’m likely going to present to Victor in the future as well if… that situation can be resolved.”
She sighed heavily, her ears flattening against her skull again as she raked her slender fingers back through her hair.
“...my double life is coming to a rapid end. I realized as much following the Tower of Ill’galar. For whatever that means....”
“Leave the hearts and minds of the people to me, Vel,” Uther said, interrupting the trailing words with yet another abrupt show of confidence. “I trust that you know what you’re doing. I may not understand the mechanics of it, but I know that I trust you. And I won’t let anyone come after you. They simply fear what they don’t understand. Fortunately, I’m skilled at making people understand.”
Vel allowed a faint smile to touch the edge of her lips. “Thank you, Uther,” she replied. “I wish I could offer the same. But. I suppose repayment for that will just have to be settled with the continued use of my arcane expertise.”
“Don’t look at it as me helping you, or you helping me,” said Uther. “So far as I am concerned, we’re both fighting as hard as we can on behalf of our entire world.”
Another small “hmph” sounded in the back of Vel’s throat. “Alright…”
“And I mean this Vel,” Uther continued, drawing her attention back to his face again. “I don’t think any of us could have come this far on our own. But as long as we stay together… I don’t believe our victory to be a matter of hope. Merely a matter of time.”
...I… don’t understand… how he can let himself remains so optimistic…
“...Impossible is merely improbable. I guess I’ll focus on that as my mantra going forward. Thank you, Uther. I’ll… feel better once there’s something tangible I can work on, and we can start making our way home.”
“Of course, Vel. Until then, if you’d like to be distracted… did you know that I once gave an award to a scarecrow?”
“...why did you give an award to a scarecrow?” Vel asked, a degree of wary hesitation to the question.
Uther offered a distinctly childish grin as the elf took the bait of the joke, his voice cracking as he delivered the punchline. “He was outstanding in his field.”
Vel replied with a drawn-out, blank stare, her gaze judgemental and hard before she replied with an affirming, “Alright. Clever.”
She turned her gaze back toward the desert, a beat passing between them before she broke the silence again.
“You must have been straw-stuck.”
It was Uther’s turn to stare blankly for a moment before he doubled over in laughter, a hand raising to his mouth to attempt to muffle the noise from carrying across the sands, though it was likely fortunate that the watch would be turning over in short order.
Vel just offered a smug smirk in response.