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Deepest Blue: Astragosa, one of the Blue Dragonflight, is tasked with a mission to investigate a magical attack against all of Azeroth - but first, that means finding Jaina Proudmoore.

(Art by @starcunning , whose work is fantastic.)

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Nominally, Astragosa served as a diplomat for her dragonflight, working to maintain relations with the Kirin Tor - and, quietly, the Violet Eye, and any other organisations of note in Dalaran.

Not that today it looked like that, from all the good she’d been able to do.

This war with the Legion is spinning out of control, she’d been told. Argus appears in the sky. Their forces harass us. And now we have signs of something going on out there. Some kind of magical assault against all of Azeroth. It should have brought us all to the flame. Instead its assault is blunted. We don’t know why. Let the mages know. We need to understand this attack. Her instructions that morning had been clear, and it had seemed easy enough.

She had made her way from her elegant accommodations accorded her station - Dalaran meant never running out of room for towers, or two-floor apartments with views to die for - and through the busy streets of the floating, cosmopolitan town. In her mortal guise - a blood elf, with light blue hair - she drew no more attention than any other did, only the form-fitting dress, fit for a fancy ball, and her elaborate jewellery - a circlet, earring and ear piercing, and a bracelet that twined around her lower arm - perhaps drawing eyes more than usual as she entered the Violet Citadel, and introduced herself to the clerk receiving visitors.

He knew her, of course, and swiftly had her escorted to a more private room, where she could wait more comfortably for Archmage Modera, the member of the Kirin Tor she usually interacted with as part and parcel of her duties.

She had waited, longer than she really should have, long enough for it to be a diplomatic incident were others involved, but she respected Modera, and believed she had her respect in turn, and so it was as the sun was setting that Modera arrived.

Apologies had been made, and she had made her case to the Archmage, but her reaction was not what had been hoped for.

“Astragosa,” she said with a weary sigh. “I appreciate your concerns, and I would personally agree we should investigate this. But speaking for the Kirin Tor, we’re simply drawn too thin on the ground. The war with the Legion has us strained for everything we can give right now and I doubt we can spare resources for this investigation. Whatever the attack is, it’s clearly being blunted; isn’t that enough? That’s likely to be the official response when I report this.”

Astragosa had paused, considering, as befit a diplomat. “The Blue Dragonflight will be disappointed. You will not object to my following up independently? We will still need to understand this, and the Dragonflight takes a somewhat longer view.”

Modera had smiled. “I’d expect nothing less. Feel free to ask for any assistance from individual mages, of course - but official aid will, I suspect, be too long in coming. I am sorry I cannot assist more than this.”

“As am I. I hope we will not come to regret not understanding this threat in time.”

Modera had taken off her metaphorical official hat as Astragosa left, to mention she’d be having a drink at the Legerdemain Lounge that evening with a smile. Astragosa had nodded, then left the Violet Citadel, only an hour of light remaining on what passed for the horizon here.

It seemed that if anyone was going to discover anything about this, it would have to be herself. But first, she had an appointment.

Her job, such as it is, may be described as ‘Diplomat’, but it didn’t define her - she had hobbies, interests, social occasions. In the pursuit of such personal activities, she’d ended up discovering an unexpected talent, which on occasion she indulged in.

Which is why, as the night stars twinkled in the sky, she found herself in another elegant dress, in the Legerdemain Lounge, singing for an appreciative crowd.

“...change with the color, change with the sun…” she sang, the microphone cradled in her hand. Toward the back of the room, Modera sat, and gave a wave. Astragosa favoured her with a quick smile.

“... always bright, bright eyes…” she sang, building up the crescendo as she brought the song home, soon drowned out by cheers and the noise of drink.

She exited the small stage area, and eschewed her own table for the moment to approach the Archmage, and slid gracefully into a seat, avoiding knocking the plates and dishes on the table.

“You really can’t help me?” she asked the mortal, who shook her head.

“I really can’t, I’m sorry,” she apologised over the din. “I’d like to - my curiosity is piqued, never mind the strategic arguments for investigation - but it’s been made clear to me our resources are strained and our hands are tied.” She shrugs, an all too-casual motion to cover a quick glance around the inn, before leaning over the table towards the dragon.

“From what you’ve said, there’s only a handful of mages we know of even capable of the sort of thing you’re talking about. That’s as good a starting point as any.”

Astragosa twisted her fingers, and the din of the inn receded, though she still spoke softly. The very tips of her hair deepened to a darker blue. “Excluding the possibility of an unknown magic wielder, of course.”

“Of course,” the archmage concurred, “but I wouldn’t know where to start looking for anyone or anything like that. I assume the Blue have their own list of powerful mages?”

“I cannot comment on the speculated existence of any such list maintained by the Blue Dragonflight,” she replied smoothly, as she reached for a glass of wine and downed a large gulp. “But I can probably guess some of the names on your list. Medivh, Aegwynn, Khadgar. Illidan, believe it or not. You.”

The archmage blushed faintly. “You flatter me. Though I cannot comment on the speculated existence of any such list maintained by the Kirin Tor,” she lied, eyes twinkling. “You forgot someone, though.”

Astragosa arched an immaculate eyebrow.

“Jaina Proudmoore. And unofficially, we don’t know what in the seven hells she’s up to.”

“But you do know what Medivh is up to? Aegwynn?” the diplomat asked, curious and a little incredulous.

Modera gave her a flat look. “I’m just having a conversation, Astragosa. If you decide to do something with that information, that’s on you.”

Astragosa reached across the table, and helped herself to a slice of the citrus cake on the plate in front of the Archmage; she took the moment to think as she bit into the cake, and ignored the indignant glare at her food theft.

“The Blue don’t know where Jaina is either,” she confessed eventually, having finished the cake slice. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. We both know you had that citrus here specifically to butter me up.”

“Well, that’s a shame. I was rather hoping you did know where we was, and could save us both a lot of effort.” Modera shook her head. “That whole mess was poorly handled by everyone. Mages are not always the most diplomatic.”

Astragosa smiled radiantly. “You don’t say,” she added brightly, as she stole another cake slice.

Modera gave her a withering look. “I can’t deny the Kirin Tor would be interested in locating Jaina. But I do think she’s your best starting point. Trouble is, we have worse than nothing to go on - the worst kind of intel you could imagine.”

“Hit me,” she replied, having washed the cake down with some more wine. “I can imagine some pretty bad intel.”

“Well, the only thing in the entire Kirin Tor intel net since she went missing was a drunken brag from a mage.”

“A drunken brag- You must be joking.” “I wish I were,” Modera replied ruefully. She turns in her seat to indicate with a glance at a table across the room. A tall, reedy, red-haired blood elf male sits alone at the table, leaning back casually in his chair while he regards the mug before him, unaware of their scrutiny. “Well, I say mage. Not really. Kind of. His background is a long story, but he shouldn’t bite.”

“He’s kind of cute,” Astragosa noted absently. “What do you mean, not really a mage?”

“Well, he never really made it through the training. Not a dues-paying member, you might say. Enough natural talent to pass, and he’s picked up some stuff along the way. Reports are sketchy on him more recently - he simply isn’t important enough. But I just don’t have anything else to go on. Jaina covered her tracks well.”

“And that’s concerning you.”

“And that’s what concerns me,” she confirmed with a sigh.

She considered the mortal for a moment. Well, it was probably nothing, but it was a starting point. And even if it ended up being unconnected to this planetary magical assault, finding out Jaina’s activities would be important too. “What’s his name?” she asked, preparing to walk over.

“It was Rivenblaze,” Modera noted, reaching for the remains of her Citrus cake. “Malithern Rivenblaze.”

Astragosa sauntered over to the table, taking on a striking pose, one hand against her upper thigh, and turned on a winning smile.

This Malithern, for his part, failed to notice for a lengthy half-dozen seconds, which she tried not to take personally.

When he did notice, he flailed quite spectacularly, hands gripping the table and almost tipping it as he tried to regain his balance, and she suppressed a giggle. Well, that almost makes up for it, she thought.

“Uh, um, who are you?” he finally asked, belatedly kicking out the seat to his left towards her for her to sit, an offer she graciously accepted, and slid into the chair with grace.

“You can call me Astra,” she said, doing her damndest to be charming. “I was hoping you could help me with something.” She smiled at him again, like inviting him into a secret.

He gave her a brittle smile, glanced left, then right. “This, uh, doesn’t happen to me. I mean, I’m flattered, and you’re quite-”

She did laugh this time, soft and chiming. “Oh! No, no, I’m sorry, no.” She looked him over quickly. “I mean, maybe, sometime, but no. My friend over there - stars, I know what that sounds like - well, we were having a chat.” Modera waved over at them, her mouth stuffed full of cake.

“Your friend?” Mali asked dubiously, fighting the instinct to shrink into his chair, or perhaps run.

“Yes!” she said brightly.

“Your friend Archmage Modera?” he asked, increasingly dubiously.

“Well, yes!” she said, just as brightly. “We we having a friendly chat, about things and, well, she thought that you might be able to help us settle a bet between us.”

“A bet?” Mali asked, feeling that this conversation had fallen entirely out of his control.

“Yes!” Astragosa replied, feeling the strain of keeping this up. “She bet that Jaina Proudmoore was hiding in Kul Tiras, and I bet that Jaina was hiding in Dalaran somewhere.”

“Hah!” Mali exclaimed, relaxing a little, and taking a drink from his mug. “You’re both wrong. Jaina’s hi-” He suddenly cut off, his eyes going wide.

Astragosa leaned in, hungry for his answer. “Yes? Jaina’s where?”

“Shit,” he swore. “Nothing. I said nothing.” He glanced about the room, frantic.

“Oh, no, you said someth-” Astragosa began, as Malithern twisted his hand in an all-too familiar gesture. Arcane energies swirled into place, formed a portal horizontal on the floor, beneath his chair, and Malithern fell through it at the speed of gravity, escaping the inn.

Astragosa sighed, her frustration building.

His portal had dropped him off in the front garden of his new estate, modest by any elven standards, but a place he could finally call his own nonetheless. Long practise at quick escapes meant the chair that came with him was no hindrance as he made his way towards his front door-

- and smacked full-body into the high elven woman from the inn.

She grunted as he walked into her, and sighed as he fell backward to the ground.

“How?” he asked as he scrabbed for purchase, and pulled himself back to his feet.

“I’m sorry,” she said, trying to be sweet but the facade was cracking. “I didn’t introduce myself properly. I’m Astragosa, Blue Dragonflight, and you won’t outdo me at portals.”

“...a dragon?” he asked, appearing stupefied. “A blue dragon, and Archmage Modera- No. No, no, no.” His hand twisted again, and as she cried out for him to stop, he disappeared through another portal.

Her brow furrowing, she concentrated on following the throughline. He’d ported to Ashenvale- no, Tirisfal Glades - no, he was porting from place to place now, a new trick now turned old. Kalecgos has been fooled by it once, bless him, and she felt a stab of rueful amusement from when she’d first been drunkenly told the story that she tried to ignore as she focused on this Malithern’s trail.

Tanaris, Feralas, Mulgore - Stars and Sun, he was bouncing about! She kept on the trail, brow furrowed, until she felt it stop - a mere few dozen feet away, here in outer Suramar.

Inside the estate, a light behind the front door came on.

She stalked a few steps towards it. “You can’t hide like that,” she called out. “That trick doesn’t work!”

There were a few seconds of silence, then his sullen voice called back. “It worked on Kalecgos when Jaina did it!”

She suppressed an urge to laugh. This wasn't the time. “We learnt from that. And I just want to find Jaina. It’s for a good cause!”

“I don’t care,” he called back. “You’re going to drag me into trouble. I’ll have no part of it, and you can’t force your way in here to make me.”

“I wouldn’t even try,” she retorted. “But I’m not leaving here until you help me.”

Another short silence. “I hope you like the front yard,” he called out. “I’m not letting you in. You have nothing to offer me.”

She stared at the front door in silence, until his footsteps could be heard, fading as he moved deeper into the estate. “We’ll see about that,” she quietly promised herself, looking about for a seat or bench to make herself comfortable on.

She could convince him.

It had been a month, and she had not convinced him.

He hadn’t let her in, of course, and after a few days, when she’d decided to test him by summoning a few creature comforts - enough for, say, some outdoors camping - and set it up in his front yard, he had not complained or tried to stop her. He hadn’t made himself a hermit either, regularly leaving his estate and roaming the forestry behind it - it appeared he was trying to conduct some research with the magical imbuement of the region. She could have helped, if he’d asked, but he did not, content for her to observe him clamber through the dense woodlands from his fenceline until he returned.

She had tried to make her case, on multiple occasions, but he was unwilling to entertain the notion. “I’ve had enough of that,” he’d say over her objections, and retreat into his estate.

One night it had snowed, and though she didn’t really need it, late that evening the front door had creaked open, then closed, and on inspection he’d left a large mug of hot chocolate out for her. Not completely uncaring, she’d mused, sipping the drink thoughtfully as she sat out in the weather - for the cold didn’t bother her all that much. Coldarra has been worse.

Still, she hadn’t made any headway, and it was time for a different tack. She’d managed some research during her time here, and it was time to get some help from another source.

The next day, she waited until he had left for his circuit through the woods, then teleported out.

Orgrimmar was not a comfortable place for her to be. It stank, and had inadequate garbage disposal. Elves were a little less common a sight, so she drew more eyes.

Her quarry, she knew, would be at The Wyvern's Tail, an inn of dubious repute near the gladiator arena. Casting about, she saw a female blood elf sitting at a table in the back, her blonde hair close-shaven. Making her way over, she slid into the opposing chair and spoke over the objection her quarry was already voicing.

“I need to know how to get at your brother.”

“... explain yourself.”

“My name is Astragosa. I’m trying to persuade your brother to assist me with an investigation, but he is….”

The blonde blood elf - Halesia, according to her research - grinned wickedly. “Pig headed? Mulish? An unrepentant jackass?” “Stubborn, I would say,” Astragosa replied, failing to suppress a smile.

“Runs in the family,” Hal said proudly. “He’s not an idiot, though. Is there a reason for him to not want your time of day, dragon?”

She considered the mortal for a moment. “I can’t promise there won’t be some danger, but mostly I want some information from him.”

“Usually he’s pretty good about sharing information, good - well, not-so-good - academic and all that.”

“It involves the location of a powerful mage whose location may not otherwise be obvious.”

“Someone dangerous is missing, you mean.”

“... Yes.”

“And doesn’t want to be found.”

“Probably, yes,” she admits.

“Is it important?”

“It’s cliche, but the world may be at stake.”

Halesia looked up, and peered into her eyes. “Are you gonna get my brother hurt?”

Astragosa answered very seriously. “I will do everything in my power to protect him.”

Halesia considered for a few heartbeats, her eyes narrowed.

“Are you going to embarrass him?”

“Maybe a little. He did make me camp in the front yard for a month.”

“Good. He- wait, he what? Oh, sun, he’s earnt this. Okay. So you’re trying to get him to help you out?”

“Yes,” Astragosa answered with a sigh of relief, and relaxed into her seat. “He won’t accept my arguments for why he should help with this cause.”

“Like I said, he’s stubborn.” She grinned wickedly at her again. “But honestly, you’re halfway to convincing him as is.”

Astragosa tilted her head, confused. “I’m sorry, I don’t follow.”

“You’re his type,” Halesia explained. “Well. Nearly. You can do magic he’d literally risk death to study, you’re an extremely attractive high elf - well, dragon, but close enough - and you’ve proven capable of being in the same vicinity as him for longer than thirty minutes.” She sculled the drink on her table, then slammed the empty mug down, signalling for a refill. “If you threw in bigger tits, he’d be out to help you before you knew it.”

“You make him sound shallow,” Astragosa noted, as she arched an eyebrow.

“No, not shallow - lonely. What do you know about his history?”

“There’s not much of a report. He failed to complete basic training, apparently wandered a bit-”

Halesia scoffed loudly as her drink was replaced. “He was driven out for being better than his teachers, who couldn’t stomach it. He learnt to live the hard life on his own without anyone looking out for him or resources to keep him pampered.” She looked away a moment, reflective. “I know how that kind of thing is. I’m proud of him, in a way - don’t you dare tell him that - but the point is, he knows the smell of danger a mile off and has no reason to do that dance again, not now that he’s finally gotten a toehold on some security. So appeal to him socially, and get your foot in the door. He’s a good guy, under it all, and probably gets that whatever you’re about needs doing, he just needs a reason to put what he’s got at risk that comes more from the heart.” She looks up at her eyes again. “Don’t hurt him. I’ll find you, if you do.”

“I won’t. So, let him get to know me, maybe like me, then he’ll help me?”

“Maybe. It’s friendship, dragon. Or a booty call. Whatever. It’s not a spell, with a guaranteed result. But don’t offer him what you aren’t willing to actually give.”

Astragosa smiled. “Oh, I’d be willing to give it a go. Your brother’s not unattractive. Mmm, that mussed-up red hair…”

“Ugh,” Halesia complained, pantomiming gagging noises. “I’m going to be sick. Please leave if you’re going to talk about this.”

Astragosa grinned victoriously. “I can certainly offer friendship. The Blue have often had good bonds with mages.” She tapped her fingers against her chin in thought. “Magic he’d risk dying to study, you said. I think I have some ideas.” She stood up from the table. “Thank you for your help. I appreciate your trust in me.”

Halesia snorted into her mug. “You can tell me about the look on his face later. I bet it’ll be hilarious.” She looked up suddenly. “Did you tell anyone about me? Or my relationship to Mali?”

“Your secret is safe with me,” she assured her. “Thank you again.”

Astragosa left the inn, and found somewhere quiet to teleport back to Malithern’s estate, back in Suramar. She had some work to do.

Malithern had gone about his daily routine, running the circuit in what he had started to think of as his backyard. Of course, when he came back, she was there. Still. Busying herself with some kind of project, but still there.

He hadn’t been able to summon the harshness to demand she leave, but he wasn’t about to let her pull him into some damned fool adventure. He’d had enough of those, and had finally secured a home, and a project to research, things he’d never thought could be his again, and, as the sun set, he’d promised himself he wouldn’t let that be taken from him.

He’d conjured up a roast meal - long ago, he’d decided biscuits weren’t enough to live on and experimented enough to conjure decent enough walk-in restaurant food - and then had conjured another, and set it outside his front door for her. He doubted she needed it, but, well, it felt like the right thing to do.

It was early night, though this far out from Suramar City, it was dark outside but for the faint twinkling of stars. He was in the small library, reading a book, when he felt the hairs on his arms stand up, followed by the smell of ozone and arcane magic.

She was doing something out there.

He stood up, and walked towards his front door, concentrating on trying to figure out what she was doing. The latticing wasn’t structured right, the formation obscure, the framework arcane - what was she doing? The edges of the front door glowed blue - whatever she was doing out there was giving off a light show.

He hesitated, dithering over his next step a moment, before he made a frustrated noise and opened the door, stepping out to see what the hell she was doing. He stepped out into the front garden and-

She stood there, facing the magic circles he’d had lain into the ground when he came here, her back to him, and a giant channel of cerulean magic was raging up out of the ground, into the sky. Bright lightning bolts crackled off spectacularly from the edges, branching out into the sky before fading out as afterimages. The wind curled around the arcane torrent, whipping around and drowning out background noise.

Astragosa, he noticed faintly after all this, was butt naked, the tips of her hair having shifted from the light blue they still were at the root, to a deep, dark aqua, magic streaming off her body. Only jewellery adorned her. And he was fairly positive she hadn’t been nearly that busty before.

“What are you doing?” he’d cried out over the racket. “What is this?”

It had taken the work of half an hour to prepare the spell, and then, with a deep breath, she’d put it into motion, pulled all the disparate parts together into an interlocked whole, and opened the arcane conduit.

As a side effect, she’d siphoned off some of the energy of the system and, having taken Halesia’s advice to heart, enhanced herself. May as well go all in, she’d thought.

It hadn’t taken long for him to barge out of the estate, having caught that she was up to something. With a nostalgic mix of irritation and amusement, she noted that he stared wonderingly at the conduit, before he stared wonderingly at her.

“What are you doing?” he’d cried out, nearly drowned out by the din. “What is this?”

“It’s an arcane conduit,” she replied, turning just enough to the side to give him a really good eyeful of her naked body. “You asked, when I came here, what was in it for you. I can teach you this. If you’re willing, if you’re able.” He seemed to be listening, though torn between looking at her and at the vortex. A little vulnerability crept into her voice, despite her best efforts. “Please. I need your help.”

“I… how does this even work?” He held a hand towards the conduit, senses outstretched, seeking understanding. “I can see how you’d siphon energy from it, but the structure makes no sense to me…” He turned to face her. “Why would you do this?” He paused a moment, then blushed slightly. “Why are you naked? And, uh…”

Astragosa smiled. “Like I said, Malithern, I need your help. I will teach you how to harness this magic, this secret of the Blue. I would, perhaps, be a friend to you.” She smiled at him in a way she hoped was enticing. “As for being naked… do you not like what you see?” She pulled a hand to the base of her throat, accentuating the side profile of her exaggerated curves for him. “If you wish it, I would share myself with you. Let you partake of me. Do you not like this form, that I have changed for you?” She posed provocatively, backlit by bright blue magefire.

He’d swallowed nervously. Quite clearly, he did like her form. Eventually, he found his voice. “You are trying to tempt me.”

“Yes,” Astragosa confessed without guile. “I need your help. You asked what I could offer. The conduit.” She looked at him over her shoulder, and bit the corner of her lip. “And I’d like to get to know you. If you’re interested. Will you accept?”

He looked at her, then back at the conduit, then back at her. “Turn it off, and come inside,” he said.

“And then will we come inside?”

He blushed deep red in embarrassment as she smiled, and shut down the conduit, and turned to take his arm in hers and walk towards the front door. “You can touch me, you know. I won’t bite. Unless you want that.”

The next morning, she awoke in a large bed to find Malithern already up, and the smell of honey pancakes drifting in from the dining room. She’d wasted no time in conjuring up a sheer robe to loosely wrap herself in and joining him for breakfast.

He was sitting at a table, dressed similarly - a comfortable robe draped over his shoulders, his chest bare - and appeared to have as much of an appetite now as last night. Directed elsewhere, though, from the empty plates already scattered across the available bench space. He nodded at her in greeting, and gently kicked out a chair for her across from him. She gratefully sank into the chair, letting out a content sigh.

“You promise to teach me, right?” he asked around a mouthful of pancake, as he handed a plate of them to her. “Once this is all done?”

“I swear,” she promised solemnly, gratefully taking the offered pancakes and setting herself to devouring them with a hunger. “You do know something about Jaina, don’t you?”

“I know she’s powerful, and dangerous when roused,” Malithern answered. “I know scuttlebutt is that she’s gone off the deep end, but I don’t buy that anymore than you probably do. Sounds like the Kirin Tor trying to cover up something dumb they did.”

“Did I mention my role as ambassador to the Kirin Tor?” she asked mildly.

“You did not, but you were associating with Modera, so I’m not surprised.” He swallowed more pancake. “Are you saying the Kirin Tor wouldn’t try to cover up something dumb they did like this?”

“No,” she agreed with a sigh, “that’s exactly the sort of thing they’d do. The Kirin Tor Expressly Forbids, blah blah.” She shrugged at him. “I usually don’t admit it, though, so please don’t spread that around.” She looks at him thoughtfully. “You know where she’s gone, don’t you.”

He looked at her across the table. “Maybe,” he said with a self-effacing shrug. “I know a place that Jaina knows about and pretty much no-one else does. It seems like the sort of place she might be.”

She looked more excited as he went on. “You’ll tell me where this place is?” she asked, her eyes alight.

He looked pained. “I… look, it’s a dangerous place, and I’d be breaking a confidence and- what are you doing?”

Astragosa had pulled back the hem of her robe and arched her back, which pushed her breasts forward. “I thought maybe I could persuade you-”

“No!” he swiftly cut her off. “I mean, yes, but no, that’s not necessary. I don’t think I should tell you. But I think I can take you there.”

She’d smiled, tucking her breasts away - such as they were in the sheer robe - and returned to her pancakes. “Thank you, Malithern,” she said.

“It’s what…” A pause, almost a stutter. “...friends do.” He, too, attacked his breakfast, but soon broke the silence with a question of his own. “Your hair. It’s light blue, but last night I would have sworn it has dark blue-green tips.”

Astragosa nodded. “It’s an effect of active magic, usually,” she explained. “It causes the colouration when I’m casting something.”

“Ahh. I rather liked it,” he noted distantly.

She concentrated a moment, and the tips of her hair darkened more permanently to deep teal. “There. Like that?”

He looked surprised. “Yeah. It looks good on you.”

She smiled sweetly. “Well, you let me tweak your proportions last-”

“Yes, well, that’s all good then!” he interrupted.

She chuckled softly. “You’re too easy to goad. I rather like that.”

He gave her a wry look, then, smiling, they finished off their pancakes together.

“Why are we hiking?” she’d asked.

“Why not?” he’d replied.

They had spent that day preparing, finishing their work in the late evening. They didn’t leave until it was about three hours to midnight, when Malithern opened a portal into the mountains edging Feralas. There, they’d started a trek up a steep, almost entirely overgrown path.

“Because we could portal up there easily,” she’d retorted.

“Go on then, try,” he’d goaded her.

“Fine.” With a huff of breath to move a lock of hair out of her eyes, she’d set her hands on her hips and willed open a portal, which she’d stepped to-

There was no portal.

She made a surprised noise, and moved to recast it.

“Don’t bother,” he advised her. “It doesn’t work. Not since a few minutes after we started. Someone shielded this place, somehow.”

She glanced sharply at him. “That’s not possible. There’s only a handful of people in recorded history who could achieve this sort of block on this sort of physical and temporal scale…. You know who did it, don’t you?” she accused him, as he grinned at her.

“I know who did it,” he exults in confessing.

“Tell me!” she implored him.

“And spoil the surprise?” he asked, getting back to the hike.

“How did you find this place?” she asked him, a few minutes later.

“Funny story,” Malithern said. “Long one, too. Ask me later for that version, if we make it back.” Overhead, one full moon shined down on them through the mottled treetops. “The short version is that I was travelling through this region, many years ago. Being chased by a felhunter, if you must know. Ran into the area of effect of this place and it stopped dead in its tracks. Turned and ran off.”

“Is that when you, too, tried to rabbit out?” she snarked.

“It was then,” he tried to continue nobly, “that I partook of the better part of valor, and attempted the noblest of portal escapes. At which point I found it didn’t work, and discovered this path, which I followed to the end.”

“Where you found…?” she prompted eagerly.

“Where I found… what I found. And also, one Jaina Proudmoore, who was almost as insistent as you in prying details out of me about all this.”

“It’s for a good cause.”

“As you’ve explained. We’ll see.”

“Did Jaina implement this portal block, then? I didn’t think she had the capacity until fairly recently-”

“No,” he answered, and shook his head. “She didn’t. You’ll see.”

“You and your surprises,” she grumbled.

“Surprises? You were casting unknown magic on my lawn. Naked. Without forewarning.” He sounded amused.

“I wanted you to help me. And you quite enjoyed it in the end, as I recall,” she retorted fondly.

“I did,” he noted, almost sounding surprised. “I hope you did too.”

“Oh, yes,” she hastened to reassure him. “Definitely.”

“Well, I’m glad. But my point is: surprises can be good.”

Astragosa resigned herself to a frustrated sigh. “I suppose. When will we get to where we’re going?”

Malithern pointed up at the lone moon in the sky. “Midnight, of course.”

At the end of the path, hidden in a small glade, lay a magic circle, entrenched into the ground, the likes of which she could feel the energy radiating off of like heat from a stove plate.

“What’s this about?” she’d asked him.

Malithern scratched at his chin thoughtfully. “Well, it’s a magic circle,” he answered.

“Smartass,” she grumbled. “I mean, what-”

“I know what you mean,” he answered. “But it is a magic circle. As far as I know, the only way to portal out of here, to a specific place. It’s, well, a doorway. Jaina, I think, used to come nearby. You know those flattened plateaus just north of here?”

Astragosa had nodded.

“I think she used to come out to those plateaus when she was pissed off at something. See, she could scream at everything and it wouldn’t matter, right? I think that’s how she stumbled across this. I think that’s why she was here when I found it.” He walked up to the magic circle, and stubbed his toe across it, then looked up at the visible moon.

“I think it’s time, Astra,” he called softly to her.

She stepped closer to him. “Where are we-”

As she reached him, he twisted his fingers, and suddenly they were somewhere else.

“-going?” She looking around, gawking.

The floor was ornate tile, marble-white. The room was warmly lit, large and open, almost like they were at one end of a promenade that curved off into the distance. Sleek metal pillars of gold and ivory supported the ceiling, which was a framework of triangular metal-wrought girders, separated with what was presumably glass panels.

It appeared to be holding the ocean back, and beyond it, an unparalleled view of the sky, with Argus burning bright to one side, and a moon to the other. Holographic readouts blipped in and out of visibility, as they highlighted areas of the sky. A gentle, reassuring pulsing hum served as background noise.

“Welcome,” Malithern announced, “to Aegwynn’s Secret Underwater Lair.”

“To Aeg- No. No, it can’t be. We located her hideouts, her bases of operation-” Astragosa sputtered.

“The ones she wanted you to find out about, apparently,” Malithern noted. “You wouldn’t have been able to enter here alone, mind. You needed a mortal, like me, to make any of this work.” He reached for a nearby pillar, and pushed a recessed button. “Hello,” he called into the pillar. “Anyone home?”

“Why have you intruded into this place?” a voice cried out, through not from the small speaker - from the silhouetted figure coming down the promenade, staff in hand. “Malithern. And you have brought her, a Blue Dragon, with you?” The voice sounded threatening. “Explain yourself.”

“Ahh, there you are,” Malithern said, and offered a weak wave. “How are you, Jaina?”

Boldly she strode toward them, until she was before them, proud and forthright, staff in one hand by her side. She did not look pleased.

“I ask again, why are you here? And with her, of all people?” Jaina glanced at Astragosa, then had a double-take. “Did you change your hair?” she asked with a frown.

“Jaina!” Malithern interrupted. “So good to see you. Maybe we could come in, have some tea - it’s been a bit of a hike, as you recall, and it’s just after midnight local time…”

Jaina’s glare passed back to him. “First, I will be assured you haven’t come here to do some damn fool idiocy like saving me from myself or taking me to Dalaran or blowing me up.” She bit off the last few words, anger laced through them all.

“What?” Malithern responded, surprised. “No! No we are not. Right, Astragosa?”

“I know you,” Jaina said, her attention focused now on the dragon. “You’re the Blue ambassador. Are you here to do the Kirin Tor’s bidding? I can guess how you swayed Malithern here to assist you.”

“Hey-!” Malithern began, as Astragosa moved to cut him off. “No,” she said. “She’s trying to provoke us.” A flash of acknowledgement in Jaina’s eyes. “I won’t deny the Kirin Tor would like to find you - and this place - but I am not here on their business. You were my best lead on another issue of paramount importance, and my task is in resolving that, not in anything you might be up to.” She paused for a moment. “You… aren’t up to anything I’d be honour-bound to stop, are you?”

“Astra!” Malithern cried out.

“No,” said Jaina, and only now had the hint of a smile twitched at the corners of her mouth, “she’s right to ask. It’s her duty, as a Blue.” Jaina sighed, and some of the tension left her. “I swear I am not engaged in any task you’d want me to stop. I’m glad you aren’t here to try anything foolish. I know what the Kirin Tor says about me in public, and others besides. That I’m crazy, that I’ve gone rogue. That I’m out of control, lost perspective, acting out of grief and running away when the Legion is here at last.” She made a frustrated sigh. “I’m not that person. Come. Let me get you some tea, and let’s sit, and discuss.”

Aegwynn’s Secret Underwater Lair, Astragosa had to admit, was a marvel of design. They sat now in the dining area, in comfortable chairs, with mugs of warm tea - citrus flavoured, she’d noted with surprise - and she’d found Jaina to be more personable than she’d expected, given the circumstances, as she talked about the events that had lead to here.

“First, let me apologise for earlier,” Jaina opened with now that everyone was comfortable. “You were correct, I was being incendiary. I had to be sure of you intentions, given the vital work I’m engaged in here.” She turned to Malithern. “And I’m sure she persuaded you with rational argument to bring her here.”

Astragosa tried not to look like she’d been caught with her hand in the biscuit barrel. “Err. Yes, of course.” She shifted in her chair slightly. “And think nothing of it. But, you mentioned a ‘vital work’ of yours?”

Jaina nodded. “Yes. Let me see, where to begin.” She sipped at her tea for a moment.

“Theramore had fallen,” Jaina explained, and her voice only cracked a little at the statement. “And I was… distraught. I was entitled to that, but in my despair I was going to do something terrible. I was persuaded not to.” She nodded at the dragon.

“Yes,” agreed Astragosa. “I’ve heard that story. Confidentially,” she assured her.

“It speaks to the power of allies,” Jaina continued. “I had an ally who talked me down when I was on the brink of creating a tragedy, and I am grateful he did. But it took me longer to work through my anger and hurt. I was outspoken against the Horde, because without my anger to mask it, my sorrow would surface. And of the two… my sorrow was the greater.”

“Varian made moves I disagreed with. The disputes were played up in the public eye. And then, the Broken Shore…”

“I heard, later, what had happened. You see, I wasn’t there for the end. I had created an ice bridge, for our forces to move onward, and was preparing to follow, when I felt it. People don’t realise what it truly means when they say that the forces we fight against are legion. It’s cliche, but the scope of forces at their command... “

Jaina had taken a deep breath before continuing. “I felt the spells winding up, there on the Broken Shore, close to their invasion portals. They were preparing a magical assault the likes Azeroth has never seen - magi from countless, infinite worlds, their might concentrated on ours, on breaking through, on rending Azeroth entirely, all at once. It could not be allowed. It would have truly been the end of everything. The scope is beyond consideration. And here we were, marching onto an island atol with ground forces, like it meant something.” She’d shaken her head.

“I don’t meant to demean anything achieved there that day. But understand me, it would have all been for naught unless this magical attack were repelled. And as best as I could tell, no-one else had even noticed it, let alone were positioned to defend against it.” She glanced towards the dragon questioningly.

“It’s interesting that you mention it,” Astragosa replied. “My mission was to investigate a world-encompassing magical assault against all of Azeroth that was, somehow, being repelled.”

Jaina smiled wide. “Ahh! So you have caught it, though somewhat later than desired.”

“I presume you are doing the repelling?” Astragosa asked.

“I left the Broken Shore immediately,” Jaina replied. “I came to here, a place I had discovered some years ago - as had Malithern here,” she added with a gesture to the other mage, who nodded in recognition. “Aegwynn’s bolthole, if you will - a secret place to do necessary work, away from worldly distractions.”

“And away from oversight,” Astragosa noted, with an arched brow.

“Come now,” Jaina said, as she poured herself some more tea. “I haven’t forced you out of here - and trust that I could - and we both know the Violet Eye accomplishes little. The Council of Tirisfal is long gone. That leaves the Kirin Tor and the Blue Dragonflight, of which the former portrays me as a madwoman lost in grief, and the latter has only now discerned that I have been saving this world for…” Jaina glanced up at a holographic readout in the sky. “... four hundred and sixty nine days and counting.” She raised her own eyebrow at the dragon. “I think I’m doing okay. Besides, it had to be done from here.”

“How did you do it?” Astragosa asked, as she glanced around what she can see of the facility from here.

“I can’t say for certain, but I think Aegwynn constructed this place. There’s some titan influence in the design, but I can’t find any evidence that it’s a relic from their time. Regardless, this laboratory is purpose-built to monitor and report on the state of Azeroth and her backyard in the universe. This place helps me focus and distribute the defensive magic I’m using to hold the assault at bay.” Jaina made a wry expression. “Admittedly, the Thunder King’s power helps a lot. The upshot is, I have been unable to leave until the assault on Azeroth abates, which to date it has not.”

“You couldn’t send anyone a letter, Jaina?” Malithern asked, as he reached for the plate of biscuits, helping himself.

“The Blue Dragonflight would have been reluctant to leave this facility in mortal hands,” Astragosa conceded regretfully.

Jaina nodded. “And the Kirin Tor and I were having a rough patch. Still are, by their account. Like I wouldn’t do my part to defend all of Azeroth from the Burning Legion because of personal tragedy.” She scoffed softly, but the pain of said tragedy was threaded beneath.

“Your reputation in the political sphere is being tarnished, while you labour to save us all,” Astragosa noted simply. “I will have to report to the Kirin Tor. It is mine to write, but… what would you prefer it to say, were it yours to influence?”

“You can’t tell them where I am,” Jaina said. “No, Mali, it’s true,” she added, waving off his objection. “We discussed this last time. The Kirin Tor would have this placed filled with bumbling idiots who would, I don’t know, trigger another Reorigination or something. It’s too dangerous.”

Astragosa sighed. “It’s true the Kirin Tor has not handled some things well of late. The war against the Legion spirals out of control. Illidan brought Argus to our sky without their knowledge-”

“Oh, is that how that happened?” Jaina interrupted. “I had wondered what tactical genius thought that was the best plan to pursue. Did anyone tell him about the stresses caused by the gravitic field interactions?”

“I heard someone tried, actually,” Astragosa noted with an academic tone. “Apparently, his response was a long pause, followed by-” she dropped into a fair approximation of his gravelly tone - “I knew that.”

Jaina laughed, and the sound tinkled around the underwater lair. “Light, it’s been too long.” she said. “Whatever your report says, I would welcome the two of you visiting occasionally. It’s… a little isolating, saving the world every day.” Her voice quietened at the end, a hint of vulnerability in the Archmage.

Astragosa glanced at Malithern. “I think we could do that,” she said carefully.

“Sure,” Malithern confirmed. “I’ve learnt how to Summon Mana Pancakes since last time.”

Jaina made an undignified scoffing noise. “Of course you have.”

Astragosa turned back to Jaina. “I think I can accommodate your wishes. I will have to let them know what you’ve been doing, I think. Investigating the attack was my charge, and… it seems to be well in hand.”

Jaina sighed in relief. “Thank you, Astragosa,” she said.

“Besides, you have informed the Blue Dragonflight of this location, since I know about it.”

“Not by my choice, but your point stands,” Jaina conceded, waving her teacup at the dragon.

The next day found Astragosa and Malithern making the trek back down the mountain trail.

“Thank you, Malithern,” Astragosa found herself saying.

“Hmm?” he asked. “Oh, for the information. Well, it worked out in the end, right?”

“It did.” She favoured him with a smile. “It will probably take a week or so to make my reports and get everything squared away from this.”

“Oh,” said Malithern, frowning. “Will you… come back? And see me, after?”

She looked at him, puzzled for a moment, before realisation dawned. “Of course, you idiot. I still have to teach you the Arcane Conduit magic I promised.

“Oh,” repeated Malithern. “I’d forgotten about that.” He seemed to have expected a different answer.

“Also,” she added with a wicked grin, “I want us to bang each other senseless.”

“Oh!” he replied a third time, though clearly much more pleased this time. “I’d like that.”

Reaching towards him, Astragosa took his hand in hers, and they trekked down the mountain.