Christie Golden - Jaina Proudmoore - Tides of War

Jaina brushed her hair, then sat down in front of a small table. With a thought, she lit a candle and gazed at the flickering flame. She started every day thus, if she could manage it; it helped her focus and prepare for whatever might be thrown her—

Her blue eyes widened and she became instantly alert. Something was about to happen. She recalled talking to Kinndy last evening (the gnome was no doubt still asleep; she could have been born a night elf, she liked to stay up late so much) about her visit to Dalaran and subsequent unease. It’s just—I felt that something was off in Dalaran, Kinndy had said. You could sense it in the air.

Jaina was sensing something now, like an old sailor who could feel a storm approaching in her bones. She felt a vague fluttering of apprehension in her chest. Her morning ritual would have to wait. Quickly she bathed and dressed, and so it was that she was already downstairs and making tea when one of her most trusted advisors, Archmage Tervosh, knocked on the door. Unlike Kinndy, he didn’t have anything officially to do with the Kirin Tor. He was, like Jaina, more comfortable on his own, and the two had developed a great and rewarding friendship, living in Theramore as a couple of mavericks.

“Lady Jaina,” he said, “I—well—there’s someone here to see you.” He looked unhappy. “He won’t give me his name, but he bears a letter of safe passage from Rhonin. I checked; it’s genuine.”

He handed her the rolled-up scroll, sealed with the familiar eye symbol of the Kirin Tor. Breaking the seal and reading, Jaina instantly recognized Rhonin’s handwriting.

Dear Lady Jaina,

I ask that you give this visitor whatever aid he requires. His cause is frighteningly real and he needs all the assistance those of us who practice magic can offer him.

Jaina inhaled quickly. What was going on, that Rhonin would say something like this?

“Show him in,” she said. Looking as disturbed as Jaina felt, Tervosh nodded and withdrew. While she waited, Jaina poured herself a cup of tea and sipped on it, pondering. A moment later, a man with a hood pulled low over his head strode into her parlor. He wore simple traveling clothes that yet bore no stain of traveling such a great distance. A blue cloak made from rich fabric swirled about him as he moved with a lithe quickness. He bowed and straightened.

“Lady Jaina,” he said in a pleasant voice. “I apologize for coming so early, and unheralded. It’s not the way I would have wished to arrive.”

With that, he pushed back the hood that had hidden his face and gave her an uneasy smile. He had the best of both human and elven features, blue-black hair that fell to his shoulders, and blue eyes bright with purpose.

She recognized him at once. Her eyes grew wide, and her teacup crashed to the floor.

“Oh, that’s my fault,” Kalecgos, former Aspect of the blue dragonflight, said. He waved a hand. The spilled tea disappeared and the teacup reassembled itself, reappearing empty in Jaina’s hand.

“Thank you,” Jaina managed to say. She gave him a slightly lopsided smile. “You’ve also taken away the chance for me to welcome you in a proper manner. At least I can offer you some tea.”

He returned her smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I would welcome some, thank you. And I regret that we don’t have time for the formalities and pleasantries. It’s nice to see you again, even under these circumstances.”

Jaina poured tea for them both with a hand that didn’t tremble. She’d recovered almost at once. She had seen Kalecgos at the bonding ceremony of Go’el and Aggra, and had liked him immediately, although there had not been time for much conversation. She handed him a cup and said sincerely, “Lord Kalecgos of the blue dragonflight, I know well of your noble deeds and good heart. You are welcome in Theramore. The letter you presented instructs me to offer all aid I can, and that is what you shall have.”

She sat down on the small couch and indicated that he join her. To her surprise, this being, so powerful and ancient, seemed almost… shy as he accepted the tea.

“It is an honor for me to work with you as well, Lady,” he said. “You have a reputation also—one that I have long admired. Your understanding of magic and the solemnity with which you wield that power—as well as the more, shall we say, mundane powers of diplomacy and leadership—are to be respected.”

“Oh,” Jaina said. “Well—thank you. But pleasant as it is, I don’t think you came all the way from Northrend to compliment and be complimented.”

He sighed and took a sip of the tea. “Unfortunately you are correct. Lady—”

“Jaina, please. I don’t stand much on ceremony in my home.”

“Jaina…” He lifted blue eyes to her that no longer held any hint of lightness. “We’re in trouble. All of us.”

“Your flight?”

“No, not just my people. Everyone in Azeroth.”

“My, that’s a tall tale.” Kinndy stood in the doorway, looking both confused and wary. “Or at least exaggerated. Surely not every single person in Azeroth will be affected by whatever trouble the blue dragonflight has gotten itself into now.”

Her hair was a mess. Jaina suspected she’d put it up in pigtails quickly without even running a brush through it. Kalecgos seemed more amused than upset by the gnome’s sharp tongue, and he turned to Jaina quizzically. Jaina recalled Kinndy’s statement to Pained, that no one took her seriously. She felt sure that Kalecgos would learn to.

“Kalecgos, may I present Kinndy Sparkshine. My apprentice.”

“How d’ya do,” said Kinndy, helping herself to some tea. “I heard you talking outside to Archmage Tervosh. I got curious.”

“A pleasure to meet you, apprentice Sparkshine. I am sure that anyone Jaina chooses to take under her wing is a worthy student.”

Kinndy sniffed and sipped tea. “You’ll forgive me, sir,” she said. “Given all that’s recently happened, I and the rest of the Dalaran magi are a bit… leery of your flight. I mean, you know—war and attempted slaughter of all other magi. Things like that.”

Jaina winced inwardly. A twenty-two-year-old apprentice was all but accusing the former blue Dragon Aspect of, at the very least, bearing the responsibility for a previous Aspect’s actions, and at the most, being deceitful himself.

“Kinndy, Kalecgos is a dragon of peace. He’s not like Malygos. He—”

Kalec lifted a hand, politely interrupting her. “That’s quite all right. No one knows better than I what my people have done to others who use arcane magic in this world. I have come to expect Kinndy’s attitude from anyone who—well, who isn’t a blue dragon.” He gave the gnome a small smile. “A rather large part of my task as the flight’s leader, if no longer its Aspect, has been to try to show that not all of us approved of the Nexus War. And that since the death of Malygos, we have not attempted to control or manipulate others who use the arcane.”

“Isn’t that the flight’s job, though?” asked Kinndy. “Wasn’t the Aspect entrusted with that very duty? And don’t you still kind of perform that role, even if your unique abilities are gone?”

Kalecgos’s eyes took on a faraway look. When he spoke, his voice was both softer and deeper, though it remained his own. “‘Magic must be regulated, managed, and controlled. But it must also be appreciated and valued and not hoarded. Such is the contradiction you must deal with.’”

Jaina felt a shiver run along her spine. Even Kinndy looked subdued. Kalecgos’s eyes once again became bright and alert, and he regarded both of them. “These were the words once spoken by Norgannon, the titan who gave Malygos the power of an Aspect.”