Three Years
Three Years Later, 632
A breeze blew over the plains of Westfall, lightly stirring up crystals of snow to dance over the rolling hills. The day had brought light snowfall and the peace that comes with the onset of true winter. It was chilly, but not harshly so; the wind was what really drove the cold in. Harsh puff of breath escaped Leira's muzzle as they rode. A friesian, he was pure black, standing out starkly against the white and beige backdrop of the plains. A devil to the bone, his attitude was on full display as they worked; every so often the huffing of cattle bellowing was punctuated by a snort of pure derision from the destrier.
It was winter, but the cattle also needed to be driven back towards Hawklight, to their winter pasture. They were similar to a Highland breed, with fluffy walnut fur and longhorns and served many a purpose in Hawklight; their fur and hides clothed the refugees that continued to stream into the west and were exported to the markets in Stormwind for income. Their meat was the same. Each cow was valued at around 1500-2000 gold per head, and their herd was about one hundred per year, with around 10-15 calves being auctioned at local markets, or sent to Redridge for sale. It had been something they had invested in shortly after their return to Stormwind in 629 from their final operation of that year. With the help of a fantastic banker, and a fantastic pair of ranchers from northern Westfall, they had grown the herd over the last three years to the herd they had today; Hawlight was more self-sustaining and prosperous than it had been in previous years.
Their family was more prosperous than it was three years ago, she thought quietly as a dull ache of grief crossed her heart. Kos would have been so proud, she knew, to see the region coming back to life.
"Steady up old man," Kel laughed quietly as she leant over and gave Leira a firm pat on the neck. "We're almost home."
The three years had taken a toll on their family; following the cessation of Operation Hearth, she and Sandor had returned to Westfall for a long period of leave after returning from Grafenwohr for Toby and Dymphna's long-awaited nuptials. Their return meant that the hard work needed to begin. The first order of business had been to lay Narakos to rest at their family plot and to prepare the transfer of estate to her and Sandor. Acknowledging deciding powers had been a battle she had never wanted to wage, but it had been conducted nonetheless. Her mother and Adarina had been inconsolable. Solomon had been there in body only, no doubt his mind on his own loss of family. That Winters Veil had been a solemn one, for no one had been of sound mind to celebrate. The veil of grief had simply been a heavy pall over their household. Nonetheless, they had to go on. And so they had.
Over a meeting of the minds, she and Sandor and a handful of the longtime tenants of Hawklight planned out the future of Hawklight; what plans Narakos had died with him and the estate needed to move on. Sandor had taken the reins of running an estate with ill liking; in his eyes, he wasn't worthy, and hadn't proved himself to the people. In that first year, she had caught him many a time running himself ragged to prove his worth to their people. Not that he had any need to, for in the five years of their marriage, he had never once given those at Hawklight a reason to doubt his dedication to their family.
Their planning huddle had affirmed a few things that were already quite apparent; one, that immediate action was needed in order to ensure continued sustainability of Hawklight, and two, that while the agricultural practices established by her father and brothers had been sustainable thus far, they needed solutions to ensure the continued survivability along with the ability to sustain the refugee hub that was over two decades old. And so, investments in cattle were explored. Towards the end of that year, Kel had taken the savings from her work in the 47th, from doing surgeries in Stormwind, and her share of Hawklight's revenue, and invested heavily in a stocky breed of highland cattle perfect for the region. She had started with fifty head, including a handful of handpicked bulls from excellent stock to ensure the success of their operations going forward. Driving them from Stormwind to Hawklight had been a three day operation; it had been a hilariously hellish endeavor but an ultimately successful one. The first time they had brought meat, wool and leather to the market had been a gamble; an unsure one to be certain, but they had come out with a small win that year, and the year following.
Their cattle now roamed the hills between Hawklight and Sentinel Hill during the summer, and were driven back to the southern grazing pasture between Hawklight and its southern mountains for the winter.
The second order of business had been to reconfirm, and establish new operations within Hawklight's trade mandate through early 630. A gTek workshop had been established within the boundaries of Hawklight's reach, bringing with it upgrades and routine maintenance to farm equipment, and other technologies to the region. Trade contracts had been renewed between Hawklight and Cindervale, and established between Hawklight and Grafenwohr. Thank the Light that all three had worked out well in their favour, because the connections had immediately worked to continue the prosperous growth of their region. People were happier. Less went hungry. The winter seemed like something that wouldn't sap them of their strength.
Towards the end of 630, they had been blessed even further with another surprise. Liera pranced sideways, as she thought of Londyn. Now almost two, he was as much a replica of her as Tali was of Sandor. Her lips curved upwards in a gentle smile, thinking of how fast time had flown with his pregnancy. It had seemed like mere moments before he had arrived, a small bundle with a shock of flame red hair. Londyn Uther Brightmaul, their son. Thank the Light the circumstances of his birth were far better than his sisters. She wasn’t sure she could undergo that again in a lifetime. His green eyes were as filled with innocence as Tali's violet ones were filled with fiery will.
The familiar spire of Hawklight rose up in the distance as they crested the final hill. With a sharp whistle, the other handful of ranch hands began to push the cattle in their final drive to the winter pasture. With a nod, she tugged at Liera's reins, turning him away from the cattle drive, and back towards the main house. It was high time she checked in on her little family. "Mama!" came the loudest tiny-bellow from the front door of Hawklight manor. Blonde curls danced in the winter air as Talithe, now almost six, waved furiously from the steps. "Mama!" She waved back just as furiously as Liera cantered in towards the stables, a quiet laugh escaping her. Tali was a copy of Sandor, right down to her mannerisms. The flame of stubborn will in her face sent her almost to tears laughing the first time she had displayed it against Sandor. Put to the test, he was sure to be no match for their daughter. They were blessed, she and Sandor, with their family.
"Lady Brightmaul!" yelled a voice, coming from the house. A feeling of ill ease stole over her as the shout reached her. Pulling up, she twisted in the saddle, turning to the voice. "News from the City!" She dismounted, tugging off her gloves as she handed Liera's reins off to a stable hand. The messenger was at her side in an instant, pressing an official notice into her hand.
The official seal of the Kingdom of Stormwind
It seemed that their idyllic respite had come to an end.