Heroine

The warlock sat at the edge of the pier, looking out across the frozen sea. It glittered dark, the first hints of the coming dawn casting long shadows through the ice flows, dusting the frozen islands in growing saffron. Behind her, the tusker village was starting to wake, a slow and easy bustle. Kamagua was no great port or merchanter focus. It was small, and she liked that, very much. A place where the most dire threat was a shift in the fish schools, where the skills of a net maker far out weighed those of a swordsmith.

Beside her the great blue Voidwalker too looked out to the dawn. Still, and quiet, his expression inscrutable.

A demon upon a pastoral morning.

"I know ..."

The little warlock tugged a deep red pigtail, her thoughts reaching beyond this quiet place.

"I know everyone says we should move to the city, to be at the center of one's important tasks, to have all the resources of the world at one's fingertips. Eternium thread, smiths to mend armor and blade, where those who stand to fight the Lich King can find us, to send us upon our missives against the cold, frozen dark.

"But I'm not sure."

Green eyes closed, and she hugged herself. Teeth set upon her lower lips they pressed, hard enough to pale them.

"Is it swords and ensorclements, is all it takes to be a hero but strength and skill? Two swords and a crown and a will unstoppable. Is that a hero, Mezzy? Is it some manner of ranking ... as if by some number of scourge-tormented skulls one stacks, if that grim pile gets high enough, one is bestowed such an honor? Is that what forges those upon whom the minstrel sings.

"A dragon's head, a harpy's corpse, ogres and giants slain

"To rise from the dark, unbent and unbroken. To claim what was lost, to stand against the coming night no matter what may be the cost."

Slowly she let out her breath, a puff of frost left in the air. Her eyes opened, looking to the lightening horizon. But perhaps, perhaps they looked farther.

"But I'm not sure."

Tilting her head, she looked back up to her oldest friend.

"It must have been very hard."

Breath caught, held for a long heartbeat before let out.

"For Her."

About the young woman the Kalu'ak were setting their boats to the sea, stacked with their nets, fishing poles rising this way and that in a happy chaos. The coiling of rope was accompanied by deep and low harmonies, a shanty for working to, to greet the coming day. But as she looked to the cold northsea her thoughts couldn't be farther away. Lost in a broken kingdom, where the only water was fel green within dusty stone canals, where there was no sky save vaulted ceilings of grey stone, where the blood of a betrayer seeped into the bitter dust along with shattered bones.

Where death was but a transitory hurt.

"It would have been far easier, Mezzy, to have focused Her magics, to draw down that arcane power in a deadly bolt and strike down that which her companion named as villian and cur. There would have been no one to gainsay such a righteous killing, and I know when returned to Stormwind, She would have been met with cheers and accolades, been proclaimed great among Her kith and kin.

"Named a hero of the Battle of the Undercity, set with the legendary of Stormwind."

"But she didn't chose that path."

There was an imperfect silence. One beat, two, then three.

"There is something out of balance, Mezzy, something I can't quite name, that lurks within this masquerade in which we are trapped. As if one were to pull off those masks of the roles we play one may find the visage exposed lacking.

"And that the true strong ones are the ones who do not wear such masks."

"Be that mask a tabard, a sword ...

"... or a crown."

Small fingers rested upon her new stff, slowly moving up and down its length.

"It must have been hard, Mezzy. To bring down those frozen prisons, to halt that bitter fight. To return a Warchief to his halls. To return a King to his fanciful throne room. Knowing full well the wrath that would follow and the dark words that must now be sneaking like a rogue through Stormwind's halls.

"To find one's self in a place built not of stone or steel or blood but conscience.

"Her decision struck not because it is what everyone knew what should be done ... what one's liegelord proclaimed ... what would bring one the most glory and acclaim ... what should have been the next dance in our masquerade.

"Done simply ...

"... because it was the right thing to do."

Slowly the warlock stood, palms dusting off her robes. A small glance was cast over her shoulder, to the southwest. As if she were looking all the way to Theramore.

"Every morning, we watch the fishing boats go off to sea.

"It's important, Mezzy.

"So that in my heart, each and every day ...

"I know that it is not swords and enscorclements, that it is not two swords and a crown nor how tall a pile of skulls ..."

She couldn't help but smile, as the fish vendor passed her. And what was most important upon his greeting her - not the coin for trade, no matter how beneficial for both - a simple blessing for staying warm against the forever winter.

"... but seal-skin boats. A morning welcome. To make sure the Kala'uk's only worry is which direction the reef salmon are running.

"I know, in the grand scheme of things, it's not very much and we'll never be heroes, Mezzy.

"Not like Miss Jaina.

"But this ...

"This ...

"This is enough for us."