Amber - 21

In an instant, the grove fell utterly still, the only sound a sharp intake of breath from Aderic. The God of the Wilds, the Wild God, tilted his head, his good ear swivelling to focus more intently on me.

A primal fear ran through me, rooting me to the spot, as he focused on me to the exclusion of all else.

My breathing stopped, a certainty that any movement was a mistake and I couldn't afford to make seizing me.

All I could do was watch with wide eyes as the great fox slowly paced forward on three legs with the ease of long practice, drawing close and closer and towering over me. He seemed to grow in size and stature with every step – or I shrunk and felt smaller – until I had to look up to meet his great toothy maw and the shining yellow orbs that had fixed me in place.

"Interesting."

With that single word the spell was broken and I gasped for air. Off to the side, Aderic stumbled to his feet, backing away from the Wild God – and me – while the foxes scampered and scattered. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a pair of kits snatched up, the two frozen in the midst of playing, and carried off by a Vixen. Every living thing in the grove, even the grass and the trees, seemed to edge or lean away and give the two of us a wide berth.

Tricks hesitated for the barest of moments before skittering away with her ears flat against her head.

As the fear fell down from its fever pitch it began to dawn on me exactly what I had mouthed off to, what I had replied to with pedantry and arrogance. It took an immense effort to keep my breathing steady and my eyes on the Demigod – if this was just a Demigod, a Wild God, what were the true ones like? – and suppress the fear and nervousness I felt.

To not simply turn and run.

But, even as he began to circle me from a few feet away, close enough I could reach out and touch him if I was truly insane enough to try, and slowly move out of my line of sight – turning to follow him would make clear I was afraid, and would make no difference at all – I could rationalise that I hadn't been invited here to just be a meal.

I had been called interesting. That wasn't anger, that was curiosity. I had to remember that even as a cold sweat ran down my spine that he was curious and not hungry.

Probably.

"You're a little small to be one of the Tideskorn, I think." He mused aloud, then suddenly my world became red fur as his tail landed atop my head, patting me heavily. I struggled to free myself, spitting out fur I had inadvertently breathed in. "Much too small. Unless there was a torrid romance between one of the giants and a gnome?"

His great snout thrust itself into my personal space, a bright yellow eye peering into mine from inches away.

"Well, are you half gnome?"

"N-no." I said, shaking my head and cursing myself for being unable to stop my voice from wavering. "My mother was a human, not a Vrykul."

Renard frowned, his strangely malleable face gaining a downturn that shouldn't be possible on a vulpine snout. "Well, drat. I always wanted to see a half-giant-midget." He paused as he turned away to circle me again, freezing still before turning his head back to me. "Vrykul, hmm. Hmm." He tilted his head, eyes sparking with interest once more. "What about your father?"

I swallowed heavily, realising I'd let a word slip. I hadn't even meant to.

Taking a deep breath I pushed past it, not answering wasn't exactly an option here. "I- I don't know him." I said, digging through my mind for what little I did know about my twit of an absentee father. "He, he should be human. Mama fell for him and he came here where it happened and even Aderic should know him."

Aderic shot me a look as I dragged him into things. Served him right for not bloody warning me and then letting this happen!

Humming softly Renard turned to look at Aderic questioningly.

"Gunther, Lord Renard." He said calmly. "You commented that the Athy's must still be doing well when he visited but chose not to elaborate further. You were quite melancholy for several days."

"Ah," Renard clicked his tongue loudly and resumed his circling. "No, no. Not that then, I would have smelled it. How curious. How interesting." He grinned as he paused in front of me. "Just what are you then? A little blessing to be sure, but whose? Who, who, who... no, no. Not Habrok, the old bird died long ago. Ha! She's with Odmar now."

My mind skipped over the mention of some other great animal or spirit, even the name used for Odyn.

Little Blessing.

He had used the name Mama used for me, with the same intonation. The pet name no one else ever used for me.

It made me angry, irrationally so, for him to claim it and use it. Even with how much she had hurt me it was still hers, not his. But that wasn't something I could press, something I could act on. Even if he was more equal to me in power I had reasons why I shouldn't, mustn't, antagonise him.

This... This was too great of an opportunity to spoil just because I was irritated by what he was doing.

The fox eyed me for a moment as he passed in front of me, his gaze evaluating. I didn't know for certain this was a test, nor what it was for if it was one, but there was reason enough to think so. He had asked me an open-ended question to see how I answered and I had sparked curiosity, sparked interest.

"Not one of those pesky dragons nor that elf-loving moon either, they wouldn't ever consider slumming it down here with little old me." Renard huffed loudly and looked out of the grove towards Tal'Doren. His tone had been light, almost jovial, but there was a deep undercurrent of frustration there. "Everyone seems to have forgotten little old Renard."

He went still as he stared off into the distance, only his tail twitching faintly.

Following his change in demeanour the foxes seemed to think things were safe, slowly returning to what they were doing. Though the kits were still kept back, peering curiously from behind their mother's legs they weren't completely gone. The tension that had set the whole grove on edge had lessened and even Aderic seemed to be calm now. Putting a hand to my neck, an old nervous habit from before, I felt the thundering beat of my heart.

This wasn't the first time in my life I had felt like this. Once, with the gnoll, that bloody red axe that had haunted my dreams for weeks. A second, with Modera, where showed off every scrap of her power as she chastised me for speaking the truth.

I wondered if she had learned how much of a bloody fool she had been for ignoring me.

Well, now I had someone better. A Wild God, someone familiar with Elune – for who else could be the elf-loving moon? – and had wounds I suspected came from the War of the Ancients. The sickly green of his leg, as I looked at it closer, reminded me of the injury I had cured outside Dalaran. The cursed limb of the soldier I had mended after leaving Rhonin his letter.

There was a good chance he could reach Cenarius, Malfurion, or any of the other Druids, that he could reach out and communicate with the 'pesky' dragons and warn them of the invasion that was coming for us all.

Yet, I had to consider how I was going to do this.

He wasn't Tricks, a small and cuddly friend who I could interact with casually. Nor was he Celestine, someone who knew me and respected my abilities and considered me family, or Darius who I had proven myself to over the course of years. And he was certainly not Vivi or Lorna, my two closest friends who had no reason to believe me when I spun tales of the distant future. He was a Wild God, one of Freya's blessed children, born of primordial Azeroth and ancient beyond all human reckoning.

Lord Renard predated humanity. Likely predated even the fleshy Vrykul, being contemporary to their Forge of Wills born kin.

Biting my lip I steeled myself. His attention had waned and I needed it back. "Odyn, not Odmar. His name is Odyn, All Father and lord of the Halls of Valour." I wished I could remember which Titan empowered him, my first thought was Aggramar but he fit Tyr better and my gut told me I was wrong.

And this was not a time to get my information wrong.

The twitching of his tail stopped and silence fell onto the grove once more. It was less oppressive this time, and yet all the more terrifying for it.

My heart hammered in my ears as he cocked his head and looked at me.

"Lord Renard," Aderic said, stepping up closer but not quite between me and the Wild God, "She has had a trying time of late and meant–"

"Oh, dear speaker," Lord Renard whined, his tail curling up and managing to look deeply affronted. "I am hurt, truly hurt that you would think I would do anything to the Little Blessing over a few disagreements on names!" He turned his head and winked at me out of sight of Aderic. "Don't you trust me, Addy?"

The use of Mama's pet name again made me twitch.

"Renny," Aderic said, sounding resigned as he used the diminutive name that did not at all suit the Wild God that had moved between us. "I am merely concerned that she spoke offence towards the revered Watchers in your presence. I know well how you treasure your memories of them.

His tail drooped, dragging along the hilltop as an expression of sorrow formed on his vulpine face. "You wound me, Addy. Do you truly think me so petty?"

There was a moment of pause, Aderic taking a long and careful breath.

Looking far older and incredibly tired he stared at the Fox. "Yes, Lord Renard. I do." He said, his voice completely flat.

Lord Rennard huffed loudly, turning his expression of misery on me. "I have the worst speaker! Listen to him, acting like I am a horrible, cruel, petty monster!" He whined piteously, shrinking before my eyes. "You can see it, right? Little Blessing, you can see it, can't you?"

I glanced at Aderic, but his stoic facade gave me no guidance here.

"Perhaps you would make a better Speaker. A little young, yes, but powerful!" He said, showing the barest hint of teeth as he grinned. "A few issues regarding gender, but I'm sure we could manage!"

Blinking, I puzzled over that for a moment. "Do you mean... changing the rules, or changing me?"

"Hmm, the latter would be easier." Lord Renard said, tilting his head. "Getting so many stubborn old men to give up tradition?" He sat back on his legs, holding his forepaw to his chest and turned his head down with a great sigh. "Not even I am so powerful as to manage that!"

The thought was, honestly, more amusing than alarming. Though it was still alarming that he considered it within his power to change me so completely. "I'm sorry, but I will have to decline."

Somehow he managed to pout. "Why?" He whined, but mirth sparked in his eyes. "I assure you, the position comes with great respect! And you can play with my sons and daughters all you like! Don't you wish to experience the fluffy tails?" He waved his tail tantalisingly.

This... really wasn't the turn I had expected this to take.

Feeling confused but willing to follow the flow for the moment I turned and gestured in Trick's direction. "I already have. And, more importantly, I have a girlfriend. And I'm quite certain she doesn't like boys."

He blinked, surprise filling his features before a smile, a toothless and friendly smile, bloomed. "Oh," He snickered loudly. "That isn't the reason most women give when they decline, but it's a good one!"

My previous thought was a horrid understatement. This was not, in any way shape or form, the way I had expected my first meeting with a Wild God would go. All around us the foxes were playing again, following their snickering God's lead. It was a picture of chaos and whimsy not... not the majesty and awe I had felt at the start, the seriousness I had long thought would come with meeting one of Azeroth's primal guardians.

The ancient wisdom and knowledge I had thought I might find in meeting one of the oldest beings on Azeroth.

Renard hummed, a mischievous grin on his face as he returned to circling me. "Are you sure you aren't interested? I'm sure you could turn back, given enough effort."

I shook my head. "As tempting as it is, I don't have the time for it." I wouldn't really consider myself transgender, in this life or the last, but being able to switch back and forth would be nice. Maybe I could even dodge my monthlies entirely that way; wouldn't that be a blessing above any other. "I'm quite happy as I am and, honestly, don't want the extra work that's involved."

"How interesting." He said, lowering his head and peering up at me. It hadn't been an illusion or trick of the light, he was physically smaller. "Most refuse outright, but you actually considered it, didn't you? And for its own sake not the offer of Speaker behind it. Perhaps another time, when you have a decade or two free to learn Yu Yu's trick."

Yu Yu. It took a moment to place the name, but there was only one that fit.

The Jade Serpent, Yu'Lon, who you first met in the form of a Pandaren child. I didn't remember the name of her disguise but I did remember being surprised when the child turned into a dragon. Shouldn't have been, really, but... it stuck out in my memory enough to tell me I had been. "You can turn into a human?"

"Human? Hah, no." Renard sniffed loudly, turning his nose up at me. "Well, I could. I am amazing – but no, I have been an elf, a gnome, one of my own children, and spent time with Yu Yu as one of her dear pandas." He let out a long and mournful sigh – one that sounded woefully fake. "Yet, most regrettably, my injury prevents such changes."

As much as I doubted I could make a dent in the wound, the demonic curse, I was still willing to–

"Why did you call her Freya? How do you know Odyn's title?" He demanded, the initial intensity returning and interrupting my train of thought. "You may have witnessed Mother blessing me in your vision beneath Ótamdrasil, but the visions are too fleeting for you to have heard us speak."

"Renny–"

Lord Renard's head snapped to Aderic, his sudden movement cutting off the Speaker before he even began, and looked at him as if he had forgotten he was there. For a moment he swelled in size once more before returning to being merely a chest-high fox. "Speaker," he growled slowly, "you are no longer needed here."

Aderic bowed his head. "As you wish, Lord Renard." He said, turning to leave and hesitating for just a moment. "Watchers guide you, Gwyneth Arevin."

His retreating back felt strangely like a death sentence, leaving me alone in the den of a Wild God who was far too intent on what I knew.

As soon as he was gone Lord Renard resumed his circling, pacing around me and examining me from every angle. Each time his tail swished in front of my face his form changed, growing larger and smaller, shifting from a more angular and feminine face to a more blocky masculine one, his fur changing colour to gold or electric blue. The only consistencies amongst it all were the wounds he bore.

"Well? What have you to say, Little Blessing?"

My hands clenched and I breathed deeply. "I call her Freya for that is the name of the Lifewarden, the chosen of Eonar. One of the Keepers of Azeroth. Her name is not, and has never been, Frey."

"And Odyn?"

"When Tyr convinced the Keepers, and the Titans, to empower the Dragon Aspects he stole a part of Ulduar–"

"HOW?!" Renard screamed, his muzzle an inch from my face. "Ten thousand years and I have spoken to none who remember any of this!" He reeled back, laughing. At first it sounded mad, but then it faded into something more joyous. "Oh, oh! Can you tell me a story? It has been so, so long. I miss Mother, I miss her dearly. Do you know if she is well?"

The abrupt change was both startling and alarming, and before I composed myself to answer he was off again.

"Or maybe you know what happened? You have such strange knowledge – even Mother spoke little of Grandmother, great Eonar. A Titan! Oh, who remembers the Titans these days? The dragons, pah, they forget. Dreaming dreamers who dream of days long gone by, forgetting all that matters in the world as they abandon me after building a prison under my home!" He growled, fur bristling. "Or the Lifebinder, oh such a pretentious title! Mother is the Lifebinder, breathing new beings into existence and shaping the world to her whims! Guarding it against harm. What has that old hag done for me? For my children? Nothing."

It was hard to ignore the fact the foxes were scattering and hiding once more, the two kits held in their parents' mouths as they sprinted out of the grove.

My instinct was to follow them, to run and flee from the ranting and raving predator, to throw myself off the cliff – I could survive that fall more easily than I could survive Lord Renard – but no matter how my heart raced, no matter how much my instinct was to run... it wouldn't help. Running would just have him chasing me.

So, I stayed still. Waiting and hoping he would cease on his own.

"Yu Yu would remember. That she would. Never forgets anything,  Yu Yu." He breathed out longingly. "But she is long, long gone. I cannot even feel her anymore. Hah, who of us are left? Malorne's little brat, I feel him. Always acting and doing and making so much noise with all those elves of his. As if it wasn't their fault the world ended up this way!"

Lord Renard's tail lashed out, elongating and striking a tree. The trunk shattered, exploding into fragments and caving in under the blow. Within seconds the last of the trunk started giving way and snapping with a great cracking sound, the titan of a tree tilting and leaning as it bore down towards me. My eyes widening as I realised I was beneath it I reached for the plants of the grove, directing them to catch and stop the tree from crashing–

Only for Lord Renard to turn to me with narrowed eyes, my magic seized and still. The very fabric of my working not broken, destroyed, or disrupted but held in place. That barest instant stretched on for an eternity before he released me and roots surged forth from the ground to catch it from below as the branches of its fellows tangled with it to hold it from above. Slowly I drew the mighty specimen of a Blackwald Oak back to its stump, and, pausing to shoot a glare – a trembling, half-terrified glare – at the Wild God I rushed to the tree.

Repairing the damage wasn't going to be hard but the faster I worked the easier it would be.

As I worked, growing new wood from the stump to connect to the supported trunk I could hear the loud and agitated swishing of a great tail. Yet, there was no more ranting, no pacing, no... angry sounds. Just the steady swishing of a tail.

Tricks peered at me from behind the tangle of roots, standing still as a thorn from one of the Blackwald Thornvines I had grown to catch the tree brushed against her fur. Slowly, cautiously, she raised a paw and placed it on the plant. And then she mewled in a deeply unsettling mix of distress and relief.

I stared at the plant, the thorn that had come alarmingly close to puncturing my little friend, and was horrified that the first thing that ran through my mind was a note to collect a sample for my own use.

"Sorry, Tricks," I muttered, my gut clenching. "That was..." The words stuck in my throat, my heart pounding. "Sodding hell."

Tricks looked at me, then back to the vine, and slowly – and very carefully wove her way through it to reach my legs where she curled up atop my feet.

Restoring the tree to a living state, if not quite how it was before, only took me a minute at most. And in many ways, I was dragging out the work in order to delay having to turn around and face the erratic Wild God once more.

But, eventually, I couldn't put it off any longer.

Looking back at him he was scarcely the size of Tricks, returned to his original red and silver colours.

"How do you know those names?" He asked as I met his gaze, an eerie calm to his voice. Devoid of all inflexion and emotion it was almost worse than his brief furious rant. Almost. "How do you know what you do?"

"I've lied and told some that I saw it in a vision from Tal'Doren," I said, closing my eyes. There wasn't really a way to turn back from telling him now, no matter how much I might want to. And I still had to hope – thin as it might be after hearing his rant – that it was possible he could inform Cenarius of what was coming. "But in truth, I've known since I was born into this world. Since I was born here on Azeroth."

His tail froze still, the swishing ceasing. A smirk tugged at his lips for a moment before fading away. "Into this world." He said in that same empty tone. "Yu Yu would be far better at this." He forced a grin onto his face and emotion into his voice. "Heh, she is intimately familiar with reincarnation after all." He blinked. "Was."

"Still is," I said softly. It was impossible to miss the way his breathing changed at my words, the way the very air of the grove changed as it became charged with a feeling of swelling – and reluctant – hope. "Yu'Lon, the Jade Serpent of the August Celestials, The Celestial of Wisdom... she and her siblings, Chi-Ji, Xuen, and..." I grimaced, my brow furrowed deeply. This was not the time to struggle to remember the Black Ox's name! "And... Ni... nia..."

"Niuzao." Lord Renard supplied hopefully.

"The Black Ox, Niuzao." I said, thankful for the addition but also worried it damaged my credibility. As if I wasn't spouting enough impossible knowledge already! "They all live, their home and domains remain intact. Shielded behind the Mists summoned by the Last Emperor of Pandaria. And, also trapped there."

Lord Renard chuckled sadly. "Yu Yu would never have gone so long without seeking out the rest of us if she wasn't. Always a mother hen."

"It's not all good news." It was mostly bad news, even if I didn't want to say it.

"It never is."

"I didn't see the past. I learned it from what I saw, but... I saw the future." I swallowed to clear the tightness of my throat. He was calm now but would that last? "I don't know how much you can help, but... Cenarius, Malfurion, they need to–"

"Cenarius! Malfurion!" He snapped, getting up to his feet and starting to pace again. "The fools who built a prison under my home, and didn't even bother to check if anyone was here! I slunk away after fighting in their war, bleeding and dying and losing my children, and they never even looked for me!" He wheeled on me angrily, bitter fury blazing in his yellow eyes. "I slept, I slept a millennia from the wounds I bore for them and missed them shoving their own mistakes beneath my home." He scoffed. "I would not help you reach them even if I could."

My heart pounded in my ears as I tensed, half expecting him to lash out again.

But his eyes were fixed on Tricks at my feet, not on me. Somehow, that knowledge that he cared for his children, his descendants, made my frustration bubble up once more. "Even if the Burning Legion was returning, returning to turn the world to ash and all that lives?" I said, an icy shiver running down my neck as his eyes snapped to meet mine. "If the War of the Ancients was going to begin anew? Would you not ask their aid even then?"

Lord Renard froze, his lips curling back. "They are not." He growled, ears flattening against his head. "They cannot. We won, they were beaten and banished."

Now it was my turn to laugh, so much of my fear pouring into it that it came out more than a little crazed. "They are. They're already here, and in less than a year Archimonde's going to get summoned back. I need to warn the Kaldorei."

Even if I agreed with parts of his rants, his reasons for disliking them, I had to warn them if I could.

He stared at me, gauging my seriousness, and then started to chuckle. "I am crippled, girl." He waved his stump at me, a sudden stench of sulphur and brimstone and twisting aches and an itch behind my eyes slammed into me. "Crippled and bound. Even if I wished to, I could not help you. My life is tied to this place, the dying curse of a demon lord eating away at my body. I live on the grace of this forest and its magic, upon the blessing Freya granted Ótamdrasil and Draumrdrasil. The tree you and your kin revere so much and its twin." He barked mockingly. "And of all those you wish to warn, you choose the Kaldorei, the masters of creating problems others have to solve. That you promised to solve."

Even after the ruin that had screamed its way off of his crippled limb started to fade I still felt nauseous. The closest I had ever felt to that was the curse on the soldier I had healed near Dalaran, but that wasn't even a candle to the raging inferno of gnawing malice of Lord Renard's wound.

Any thoughts I might have had of healing the god vanished from my mind. As I was now, there was no hope of me achieving it.

"That was a private promise." I said queasily. My mind was whirling, even if I couldn't heal him and he couldn't leave there had to still be a way! What about the Raven, the other protector of Tal'Doren – Ótamdrasil? – could surely reach them. "Rokkri–"

"The damn bird?" He scoffed and swiped his tail dismissively. "She barely pays attention when she's supposed to be here, too caught up in her dreams to pay attention to the real world! And even if she did she would never return to those forests while the spectre of her mad sire lingers there."

My hands trembled as I grit my teeth. "There has to be a way!" I yelled, not caring how he saw me. "There has to be!"

He could feel Cenarius, somehow. But the demigod hadn't ever come to check up on him in ten thousand years. And if Renard could... he would have in his ten thousand years of bitter loneliness. The same for reaching out through the Dreamways, and if his children could do it... wouldn't he have sent them too?

"Isn't there anyone who would carry a message from you?" I pleaded as he watched on impassively. "A Loa, spirit, or someone. The Broken Isles, aren't so far? Right? Odyn could–"

Lord Renard snorted. "The All Father never cared for us. Toy projects, less than even Tyr's dragons, and my counterpart is lesser than even I."

I bit down on my cheek to stop myself screaming. My legs gave out from under me and sank to my knees. "Why?! I keep trying, and I'm making a difference, but–" I cut myself off, this time biting my tongue.

My eyes began to grow wet as the hope I had felt, the belief that I could achieve more than the marginal – worthwhile, still worthwhile, Darius' voice reminded me – differences I had managed so far. Even if it was too late to stop Arthas, even if it was too late to prevent the Scourging of Lordaeron, even if Archimonde would be summoned no matter what I did... if Cenarius and the Kaldorei had forewarning countless lives could have been saved.

To have that hope and opportunity dangled in front of me only to have it stripped away hurt far worse than the resignation, the belief I couldn't do it, had ever done. It was Dalaran all over again. My worst moment revisited within days of gaining a second worst.

"I just want to change things," I whispered, head hanging low. "Why is it so hard?"

"Because life is hard, child." Renard said. I looked up at the Wild God and blinked away tears to see the bitter frustration on his face. "And there are those whose work is to prevent such things. I never liked them much," he snorted, "they leave sand everywhere."

"The bronze," I muttered. What a mess it would be if they were the ones stopping me. I liked Chromie, she was my favourite dragon that I could remember.

If they were truly tampering, stopping my efforts... Then what was the point?

Lord Renard settled down in front of me, his head resting on his one forepaw.

"Tell me what you have seen, child of another star." He said tiredly. "Tell me of the doom my children and I shall face in the coming years. Even if I am no great Guardian any longer I shall not die a coward."

His children gathered around him, dozens of foxes slowly creeping up and laying beside and on top of him. Far more mundane than not, but there were six three-tailed Blink Foxes that formed up beside him and two young kits who followed their parents. Only Tricks refrained, remaining beside me and curled up against my leg.

They started grooming him, carefully putting his fur back into place from where he had sent it away in his anger.

Looking at him, at things which were part of the world that I hadn't known existed before living in the world, made me think of the Kalimdor Expedition. My contribution, what I spurred Darius to enact.

Who cared if the Bronze existed? I had made a difference. I had caused change. To just give up because I was reminded they existed was something I refused to do.

I brushed a hand through Trick's fur, marvelling at the softness. I wasn't calm. I was still afraid, still terrified, and my heart– my heart was still pounding in my chest and I wanted to cry, but... that wasn't who I chose to be in this life.

Looking up at the Wild God I wondered what exactly he wanted from me. "Why?" I asked, swallowing the fear I felt at denying him. "You said you cannot help. You can't leave this place to stop the undead or the demons. If they breach so far as to reach this forest, with all the rest of Gilneas' defenders dead... what chance do you stand? What reason do I have to bother?"

It was disrespectful and I knew that.

But he wasn't angered by that, he hadn't been before and he wasn't this time either. His eyes slowly shifted up from Tricks at my feet to look at me properly, not the manic curiosity as he tried to determine what I was but an evaluation of my person.

"You never gave me your name, did you." He said curiously.

"And you still haven't asked." I said, my fingers buried in Tricks' fur for comfort and reassurance. "Do you even want it?"

Slowly a smirk formed on his lips and his eyes became lidded, the fox looking at me with great amusement. "I suppose I do. Very well, what is your name, little one?"

"Gwyneth Arevin, daughter of Irwen Arevin and Witch of the Order of Amber." I said proudly. It felt strangely good to be part of something rather than just naming my homeland. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Lord Renard the Silver Tongue."

He hummed questioningly. "Is that your only name, child of another star?"

I blinked, pausing and hesitating at the question. It forced me to think on things I normally left buried, not out of grief but... a lack of need. A form of introspection that I had spent much of my childhood on and had, largely, grown out of.

But I hadn't forgotten the name my mum had given me, the name of my old life that I had treasured enough to use even where others chose anonymity. How much of that was me anymore? Not the whole of it, I had lived half again as many years as a Gilnean as I had a Brit, had more fulfilment in this one than the most recent years of that one, and done things the me of before would have avoided as best they could. Some of the choices I had made over the years were ones I once would have disagreed with, or at least I think I would have. For one I would likely be waiting in Stormwind far from danger right now.

Maybe trying to inform SI:7 of what was coming.

Gilneas hadn't been real to me before living here. I had liked Gilneas, found it fascinating and aesthetically pleasing, but that wasn't the same as truly caring. The me of before hadn't had the family connection, the love of my mother nor her teachings to take care of our people.

My family was here, my responsibilities were here, and I would never abandon them.

And yet that life shaped everything about who I was. If I didn't have the knowledge I did I would never have travelled to Dalaran, would never have sought out patronage the way I had, and wouldn't have set out my life goals as I did. Without the humility I learned before, the cleverness I had as a child placed beside peers and shown to be good but not genius, I would have grown arrogant from my powers and foresight.

I wasn't perfect, I still made mistakes, and there was surely bias and baggage from that life that would weigh me down somewhere. But, it was part of me, and I was glad for it.

"Elwyn." I said, the name strange on my tongue and a decade without ever truly thinking about it. "Gwyneth Elwyn Arevin." It had been my middle name before and it could serve as one again now. "Once a child of Terra and now a child of Azeroth."

Lord Renard hummed loudly, his good ear directed at me intently. "Well, Gwyneth Elwyn Arevin, you asked me why you should tell me your secrets when I am tied to this place and refused to aid you as you wished?" He flicked his tail and quirked his head. "It is the nature for many of my siblings to demand, to order, to take, but not mine. Why don't we make a trade, you and I?"

Slowly, careful to allow his kin time to get out of his way, he stood. His appearance regal as the light of the grove shifted to shine through the leaves and bring out the vibrant red and silver colours of his fur. "This is the land where I was born, where I was blessed by mother, and where I shall die. Given the choice I would not die a coward, to forget the duties I was given and hide in ignorance. If the fires that burned my fur and tore at my flesh have returned once more as you say, if corruption and desolation threaten my home and charge, I shall fight even if it means I would die."

The Wild God gazed down upon me, his will and determination clear – even as his stump trembled in fear. "Long ago we fought beside mortals and learned their worth. Better I stand beside you and yours than alone at the end. Convince me of the coming flames and my grandchild, who has your trust, can summon me to fight in your name once and once alone."

Tricks froze beneath my fingers, her breathing stopping as her eyes turned upward.

"Yes, you, little one. Little Tricks." Lord Renard grinned, all his many teeth on display. "I do not know if it will be my death, and even in my prime I was not a warrior. Consider carefully where you would use this boon if you earn it."

I looked down at the young fox that had been given such a responsibility, feeling the weight of it myself. "If all goes as I saw... we will not need it." I said, then bit my lip as I turned my gaze to Tal'Doren. "Though, the price for that was the release of those within the prison below Daral'nir."

"You have a plan to handle them at last." He said, nodding his head slightly.

"I do." I wouldn't have made the promise if I hadn't, and the Worgen wouldn't remain sealed forever even if Arugal wasn't the one to unleash them.

"If the mistakes of the Kaldorei can be used to defend our home, then so be it." He glared off towards Tal'Doren and the ground beneath it. "Let the broken scions of my uncle unleash their fury upon the deserving."

He turned back to me and strode closer, sitting close before me at a height little greater than my own with his tail curled around his legs. "Is this trade one you find agreeable, child of two stars?"

To have a Wild God, even if he was wounded, even if he was crippled, even if he couldn't reach Cenarius as I had hoped, even if he was half mad from his isolation, as a trump card? Yes, that was a price I was willing to pay.

"Yes, Lord Renard, it is." I nodded, "Thank you for considering me worthy. For deigning to listen to me."

"Oh, you have much to prove still." He said, flicking his tail dismissively. "But your character has not been in question – my own granddaughter and your efforts amongst your kin assure that. Your knowledge is too impossible to ignore, to be anything but true. You did not cower, you did not give up, you did not surrender." He paused, eyeing me carefully. "And you did not bow down before me." With a grin that sent an involuntary shiver down my spine, he continued. "Yes, yes. I think you'll do after all. I have no need for sycophants who cannot think for themselves."

I took a careful breath to hold my nerve. "Thank you for the praise."

He snickered as he lowered himself to the ground, resting his head on his paw. "I do have a reputation to uphold as the superior canid, after all." He huffed amusedly. "Can't have my ruffian of an uncle showing me up to the mortals! Yu Yu would never let me live it down."

A faint smile crept onto my face at the sudden shift in tone. There was also the thought of Yu'Lon scolding him for... not living up to her standards compared to Goldrinn? Odd, but amusing.

"Okay," I said, trying to think of where to begin. "I don't know how much you know of recent events, so I'll start with the orcs and go from there."