Garbage Day

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Breathe. Last time Remnii said to breathe. Just breathe.

Velameestra had retreated into the dim light of the cart she had inhabited for most of the trek through the Redridge mountains--away from the chaos of marching soldiers that surrounded it on their collective way to Galardell Valley.

Visually, the elf appeared neutral, her expression lacking the manic anxiety that she had displayed the previous morning when the news of the final barrier dropping reached them, but her body was tense. Arkha’din was securely held in her arms, his serpentine body tangled in her grip with his head resting limply on his Mistress’s knee--disgruntled by his entrapment, but not enough to put up any degree of fuss.

There’s no way to verify. The aura Jandice sensed was a potential coincidence. A likely one, but a coincidence.

...No. You know better. Things rarely line up that perfectly if it’s just coincidence.

But sources are two to three times removed. Remnii trusts them but information is more at risk of fracturing the more sources it goes through. Something imperative could be missing.


Her grip on Arkha’din slackened enough for the mana wyrm to wriggle into a more comfortable position. He hissed quietly, testing his Mistress’s willingness to provide him with more direct attention, but upon receiving no immediate acknowledgement, he settled down again.

The elf leaned her head back, the rhythm of her breathing starting to slow.

I spoke with Kael’thas yesterday. Which means he’s still active. It sounded like him. The magic indicated it was him. I can’t think of anything immediately that would misdirect that.

But undeath doesn’t prevent correspondence. Jandice is proof of that. It’s possible.

Assuming Remnii’s sources are accurate, resurrection or undeath are the only options. There’s no actual way to verify either. Not without expending resources I don’t have. Everything is based on a solitary source.

Should I warn Aethas?

No. It’s a solitary source. There are too many pieces missing. We don’t know what happened. Anyone that saw what happened was an enemy in that moment if they were also pursuing Frostmourne.

They could have been dispersing information to Remnii’s sources intending it to get back. An attempt to fracture any unity if that information got spread.

...a paranoid theory.

But knee-jerk reactions are detrimental.

They’re fighting a war.

There’s too many unknowns. Too many sides I am not aware of. Too many pieces hidden. There’s no way to anticipate what the response would be.

And I’m down here.


She sighed, letting her eyes close.

Everything is moving so fast.

What else can I do, when every little thing is falling apart?
Once again, as he had dozens of times before, Kel'thuzad manifested across the cart from Vel, his spectral form sitting cross-legged adjacent to his apprentice and friend.  

"Things are moving quickly, and it may feel like everything is falling apart... but that does not mean that you should follow suite."

He offered a look as understanding as his translucent form could give.  "Talk to me, Vel.  Elucidation is the natural result of our collaborations historically, and I can sense your mind racing."
The elf's eyes opened abruptly as a voice that was distinctly not her's drifted into her consciousness. Arkha'din hissed, sensing his Mistress tense, but settled once more as Vel quickly relaxed.

Apologies, Kel, you startled me, she sighed mentally, the inclination of her head shifting so she could glance at the spectral archmage.

Her mana wyrm, however, remained blissfully unaware of the intruder that had suddenly invaded his and his Mistress's space.

The mage's tongue ran along the tip of one of her canines.

I trust you heard everything that Remnii told us, she continued. In truth I don't know where to start. Where do you, really? When suddenly not only are your people being poisoned by an instrumental part of their existence, but your racial leader has potentially been raised by an artifact that has been heralded as nothing but evil, a distant relative has been labeled as an insane black dragon that killed one of the oldest creatures on this planet, and nearly everyone you love is going to soon be entrenched in a war you are thousands of miles from?

She exhaled through her nose, the barrage of thoughts calming.

...I'm not going to leave. For as much as I want to right now, I owe Uther my help, and I'm not going to abandon Arthas and leave them stranded without a reliable way back north. But every time we get more news it feels like I'm in the wrong place.
"Apologies for startling you."

He shifted soundlessly as he processed.  "The only place you can ever start - with what you have.  What we know right now can only take us so far, and so you focus upon what we can affect."

He held up a finger.

"The Sunwell's poisoning will slowly corrupt your people, but destroying it could cut you off from a source you are dependent upon.  That choice has been made by the Sunreavers and by Kael'thas.  Whether they succeed here or not is outside of your control.  We can but trust in them to complete the goals they set out for themselves, and help in what way we can should our purposes become concluded here."

He held up a second finger.

"If Kael'thas has indeed been slain and risen from the dead, then opportunities may arise from this circumstance.  'Evil', as you and I both know, is subjective, and while Frostmourne is no doubt dangerous, we shall see indeed if it cannot fight for a just cause all the same.  Though I find Kael'thas to be ostentatious and self-assured, his prowess is undeniable.  If he and Lady Dawnseeker have indeed claimed a powerful and dangerous artifact, we can hope, for now, only that it  and the hypothetical strength of his undead nature aids them in their quest to end the threat that the Sunwell presents at present.  In time, we will then adapt accordingly based on new information we can gather, and confirm the claims that have been made for ourselves."

A third finger.

"Sinestra's true nature simply means she cannot deceive you again, and that you now have a likely suspect for a potential threat to deal with in the future, should you or your brother seek revenge for the late wyrm's death.  A boon, all told.  'Tis better to know one of thy enemies' many faces."


And a fourth finger.

"And a war that will be there after this war is completed.  King Arthas will do more for your people then than you could do for them now.  Your people, and your family, are resourceful.  They will handle things until you can join them.  And if they cannot, your presence would likely not have changed that, while your presence here could be the difference between a parade or a coronation-funeral."

He lowered his hand once more.  "Ever development, be in a boon or setback, is a chance to learn, to expand your knowledge, and thus your power.  And in time, not even death could threaten to take that fact from you."
Velameestra's hands had both risen to and ran down her face, her familiar being shifted like an oversized limp noodle in the process, and the motion ending in a gesture of her hands that would ordinarily be accompanied with speech but her lips stayed closed as she responded mentally.

...I know you're right, she said. And I am hoping beyond hope that Arthas is actually here. Or at least close. We have no real confirmation. While the boons of eliminating the threat of Morganth and the Argus Wake are insurmountable, the sooner my focus is no longer split between opposite sides of the continent, the better off I'll be.

Her arms came to rest on her knees again, her head once more leaning against the wall of the cart.

When we spoke Kael'thas expressed a wish to see me with them at Quel'danas. An impossible feat at this point, likely, which I doubt I will be sleighted for. But it's very hard not to dread the theoretical political mess that has the potential of evolving in the wake of an undead king. Should that ever be revealed. People like us can look at silver-linings, perhaps, but the ratio of us in comparison to those with much more narrow minded viewpoints is... astronomically small. It's fortunate that potential knowledge is limited right now.

Her chin came to rest on the edge of her fist, her other hand absent-mindedly playing with one of the frills that adorned Arkha'din's head. But her manic thoughts had slowed considerably as the scope of her mind narrowed.

I... may need to reasses a good deal. Timelines have likely gotten exponentially shortened. There's a... lot I dislike right now.
"There's a lot to dislike, Vel," he said, his form beginning to vanish, though his voice persisted.  "And while this may accelerate many things, it could provide avenues we had never even dreamed of in the past."

"But regardless of what happens... you are not alone in these endeavors.  I am here to provide what council I can, as always."
...You're right. As you said, we may be in a unique position. We have an expertise that not many openly have, and if the potential arises for that to be explicitly useful... At the very least, we have a degree of understanding for what it's like to flirt with death. And the dangers involved. And if Frostmourne does need to be removed, the more involved I can be, the better it may be.

She ran the tips of her fingers together thoughtfully, deathly pale as they were in the ambient light Arkha'din emitted.

Thank you, Kel.
"Of course, Velameestra.  That's why I'm here."
Vel kept herself secluded in the cart for an extended time after her mentor had drifted into silence, attempting to finish blanking the more far-reaching areas of her mind where the situations immediately out of her purvue dwelled. They were still there, periodically swirling into her mind's eye, but lacking the chaotic, overload that had followed the multitude of new information that had been dropped at once.

It had started to be parsed and carefully categorized into the various sections of her brain.

She sighed again, a finger absently rubbing along Arkha'din's throat, and then got to her feet to heave herself back into the daylight and the even-paced march that surrounded them. She flinched, the sunlight reflecting off the snow much brighter than she had anticipated, but her blue eyes started to search the crowd for the only other pair of long, pale, pointed ears.

Arkha'din chirped, having claimed a secure place draped on her shoulders with a good third of his body lounging in the down hood of her coat.

"Gil," she called after about ten minutes of searching, her gaze finally falling on her twin. Her pace increased just enough to catch him, her arms folding across her chest as she fell into step beside the former Farstrider.

"Hey."
“Yes Ara’Shel I hear her coming.” He reached up to scratch the small fox-creature on the head. Ara’Shel sent a small barrage of images of various people feeding him in return. The elf chuckled and shooed his off his shoulder.

“You aren’t going to harass me into feeding you again.” The small bit of joy faded back out as his thoughts drifted back to home. His family all about to be drawn into a war again.

”Gil!”

When he heard his sister call his attention went back to her and he slowed down to let her catch up.

“Hey Vel. Strange to see you walking with us. Is everything okay?” He winced as the words tumbled out. His ears drooped and more words spilled out. “Sorry not the best choice of words all things considered right now.”
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