The True Deception

                The wind whipped across the frozen vale, the weather of Winterspring as unforgiving as always. Leaning against a snowy bank, Braeth’el gave little acknowledgment to the biting cold, his leather armor and fur lined cloak keeping him warm enough and his thoughts distracting him from the discomfort.

                Things had been bothering him for a very long time now. Pieces of a puzzle he couldn’t see felt just beyond his grasp. He’d spent the last few months hiding in Silvermoon, slowly gathering a following of mercenaries and House Sunfire troops that had managed to avoid being incarcerated by the orcs that held the estate. Once they had left, as Braeth’el had known they would have to eventually, he had finally reunited with Kyliska and presented her with a renewed military force that gave her options. Options that the split with House Spellblaze had temporarily taken from her.

                Although their reunion had been a happy one, Kyliska’s continued brooding and underlying rage had worried Braeth’el. Between it and the nagging feeling that he was missing something important, the urge to act was almost overwhelming, and so he had ended up here in Winterspring on a little mission that he’d kept from Kyli; better not to get her hopes up… or her rage.

                The valley below contained a solitary, abandoned Highborne ruin; a tower sticking slanted from the snow as if a giant had kicked it when it had grown tired of playing with it. The snow-covered fields before it were seemingly abandoned, with random ice elementals wandering here and there with no purpose. Or at least, that is how it seemed. Braeth’el had not survived as long as he had by taking things at first sight. If one watched closely, the ice elementals were not wandering randomly but were actually patrolling in set patterns that were widely dispersed in time to make it appear that their actions were random.

                The patrolling creatures only deepened his suspicions and confirmed his objective. He’d brought his team here using all the cunning House Sunfire had left to it. Tracking the Highborne that had been Biara was easy enough; she’d left all sorts of magical traces in Sunfire Estate, from jewelry to the remnants of the spells she’d cast. Tracking such signs lead one in a million different directions all over Azeroth. The Highborne was busy, and her sanctuary in Feralas was not the only place she’d prepared as a precaution. Braeth’el had come up with a different plan though, one that hinged on his inner suspicions and that was now bearing fruit.

                He’d gone through Biara’s things. Things that she wouldn’t have thought were important. Her clothes, her undergarments, her make-up; anything that had been hers that she’d left behind. Within these objects he found a very old jewel that Biara had enchanted long ago when she was an adolescent. It was one of her first spells, and she’d affixed the jewel to a ring at her naval that made her mother furious. He smiled as he remembered it. Selun’athiel had called it a ‘pompous display of very poor spellcraft’ and had forbidden the young Biara from wearing it. But she’d kept it all these years, lost in one of her jewelry boxes along with all her other old effects.

                Scrying spells cast on that jewel in conjunction with the Highborne’s leftover magic had lead not to a million locations, but to one singular location here in Winterspring. Braeth’el had found the cunning creature… or he had confirmed his suspicions.

                He rose from his place on the ice-covered ground, gesturing to the two Sin’dorei with him. Both of them stood and began to walk beside him as he descended into the valley towards the tower. They were the last of House Sunfire’s apprentices, and the most skilled at magic given that they had survived the Highborne’s wrath. It was they who had helped him with the scrying spells, and he’d taken them with him so that Kyliska couldn’t ask questions until he returned. As they strolled casually towards the tower, several of the ice elementals turned and began approaching them rapidly.

Braeth’el grinned, making a curt hand gesture when the creatures were about twenty yards away. Instantly the snow around the elementals erupted and Sin’dorei assassins appeared seemingly from nowhere to strike the creatures down with enchanted weapons. As they fell lifeless, Braeth’el continued to move towards the tower, the two apprentices in tow.

The structure was even more dilapidated up close than it had appeared from a distance. Even so, the doors were sealed with magical wards that were obvious even to a non-magic user like the Spymaster. He gestured at them, and the two apprentices began to work, weaving magic to unravel the door’s wards. Other Sin’dorei approached and attached grappling hooks to the tops of the stone portals, prepared to pull them down once the spells were removed.

The tower was one Braeth’el had heard of in passing. A place where Malandrae Moonwhisper was supposed to have survived the Sundering thanks to her magic. It was tales of Malandrae that had first sparked Braeth’el’s suspicions. There were so many unanswered questions about Biara’s highborne identity that made little sense.

How on Azeroth could Malandrae Moonwhisper have kept such a thing a secret? The thought of the air-headed elf not blurting such important news out at some point was almost impossible to imagine. After giving it a lot of thought, Braeth’el still could not reconcile the fact with what he knew of Biara’s deceptions.  It was this thought that made him begin to ask questions, to carefully review events with the apprentices and other servants of House Sunfire.

Had there been any changes in Biara’s behavior? Had she done or gone anywhere unusual? None of the servants had remembered anything critical, except for one fact. Some time ago, around the time that the Legion first attacked, Biara had stopped consuming Fel magic. It was such an innocuous thing; a little nothing that he almost overlooked it except that he’d watched Biara Dayfire grow up. He knew her appetites, her desires. Casually giving up a source of power just because it was no longer the main, accepted practice in Silvermoon? It was so out of character that it stuck in his mind.

There was a rumble of grinding stone and the two doors fell open before him, exposing the dark interior of the tower. One of the apprentices closed his eyes and then opened them, nodding inside. Braeth’el returned the nod, pulling a dagger out and walking in; Biara’s magical traces, including ones that matched her person as an adolescent, were within the tower. So were traces of Highborne magic. He would learn the truth here.

The weapon he carried was special. He’d designed it himself several years ago in case Biara ever became a threat to Quel’Thalas. It was enchanted to nullify magic it touched, and could shred through a spellcaster’s defenses, rendering them helpless. He’d hoped to never have to use it, but one could never be too sure. As he stalked into the darkness within the tower, he was glad he had it available should the worst come to pass.

“Something is wrong with the magical currents in here,” Borthan said softly. “Magic is being siphoned away from the inside of the tower into a source far below. Our spells will be useless here.”

Braeth’el said nothing, walking deeper within the darkness. There were no guardians here, no traps, just endless dank corridors. It was as if the solitude of the tower were meant to be its shield and guardian. Although given the anti-magic field within, traps or arcane guardians would probably wear out relatively quickly.

The apprentice Borthan paused next to Braeth’el, pointing towards a darker opening leading deep within the tower’s foundation, “That way. The faint traces of remaining magic are below.”

Without hesitation, Braeth’el plunged into the dark, walking down endless stairs by feel alone. He didn’t want to risk a light in case there were more guardians, but his precaution was unnecessary as a dim glow slowly began to make it easier to see as he descended. At the bottom of the staircase was a long corridor with what looked like glowing windows on each side.

Cautiously he walked forward, eyes widening as he looked through the glowing panes. There were creatures within them! Various types of magical beings trapped in what looked like some kind of stasis. He nodded at one, some type of mana wyrm, and looked at Borthan, “What is going on here?”

The apprentice moved forward, eyes wide as he laid a palm against the glowing pane. “This isn’t glass, it’s magic. Temporal magic. The creatures within are held in stasis. The siphon is at the end of this corridor.”

Braeth’el nodded, striding forward, dagger in hand. He passed a number of different stasis cells, each containing a rare or unusual magical creature suspended in temporal magic to keep them in place. At the end of the dark hallway he saw a crystal set on a pedestal, its purple glow adding to the illumination. Even he could feel the magic siphon here. Although he was not a magic user, he could barely sense the distant Sunwell through the haze of disrupting magical currents. He opened his mouth to speak, but then something else caught his eye that set his heart racing.

The cell directly to the right of the crystal was not glowing the same as all of the others. It flickered dimly, the blue magic of the temporal field disrupted somehow. He approached slowly, dagger ready as he peered within the cell.

A crumpled form lay on the stone, her body so drained of magic that she looked almost like a Wretched. She was an elf like him, wearing tattered rags and seemingly unconscious. He leaned warily near the barrier, nearly leaping back in shock as one of the tattered figure’s hands pressed suddenly against the magical barrier, her withered fingers clawing at the spell before falling limply down again.

Braeth’el couldn’t see the elf’s face beneath her matted red hair, but his suspicions pounded in his skull now. He looked back at the apprentices that had followed him, his voice gruff, “Break the siphon.”

He turned back towards the cell, looking down at the dagger in his hand. It could only be used once before its magic disrupting power was expended. Grimly he weighed his options. If he was wrong… But he knew in his heart that his guesses were correct. His instinct had never failed him, had kept him alive for so long against so many enemies. With a jerk of his wrist he plunged the dagger into the barrier before him, the blade piercing the spell and shattering it. Dagger and barrier both dimmed and faded, the magic giving way to the deadly spells in the blade. Behind him, he heard the sound of crystal breaking as the apprentices overturned the magical siphon.

Gently he stepped into the cell, kneeling next to the crumpled figure and slowly lifting her upper body to support her. A hand reached out, brushing knotted red hair from a face that had suffered for a long time. Biara Dayfire’s features were almost peaceful now as her death approached, and yet he knew that he owed it to her to prevent that peace from claiming her. This was no Highborne in disguise in his arms, but a Sin’dorei. One who had been imprisoned in a temporal spell that was bound to fade as it interacted with her unique magic. An elf left here for almost a year with only the slightest trickle of magic from the Sunwell’s energies to sustain her. Deprivation had taken its toll, but Braeth’el knew the truth now.

Biara Dayfire was not a Highborne; a Highborne had taken her guise and tricked them all. Had concocted tales that had deceived even Biara’s closest friend, and had left her here in what she likely thought was a safe prison that had almost been the Sin’dorei’s death sentence.

Gingerly he reached into his pocket and withdrew a small mana crystal, breaking its structure in front of Biara’s face, letting the magic seep out even as the roar of the Sunwell’s energies pulsed back into him with the destruction of the magic siphon.

She breathed in, her back arching for a moment as a flush passed across her pale flesh. Weakly her eyes opened, shockingly golden orbs from the Sunwell’s influence blinking and trying to focus before finally seeing his face. Arcane energies began to bleed across her scarred left cheek, her personal wards beginning to flare to life as mana flowed into her deprived body.

Those golden orbs, so sweet and innocent in waking, narrowed as recognition passed through Biara’s mind. There in the darkness, as he held her in his arms, Braeth’el heard the true voice of the broken Magistrix for the first time in likely a year, and her words sent a chill down his spine.

“I’m going….to kill them all…”

As her golden eyes drooped closed and deep sleep claimed Biara, Braeth’el sighed and scooped her too-light form up in his arms. Part of him wondered if he’d made a mistake, if it would have been better to leave things as they were. They still had a rogue Highborne as an enemy after all, only now….now things would be worse.

Parley

                Hot steam rose from the bath, creating a fine mist in the room that was soothing to any skin exposed to the air. The water was just cool enough to avoid scalding the skin, and more than hot enough to ease any deep aches one might have in their muscles. The blonde-haired Sin’dorei sitting in the bath was enjoying just such an experience, his muscular form aching from two days of hard trekking through hostile territory to scout for House Sunfire’s troops that had been contributed to the war against the Legion.

                Braeth’el sighed in contentment, easing himself further into the bath, his arms resting on the sides of the inset marble bathing pool. Magical jets in the water stirred and reheated the liquid, sending waves of massaging warmth against him and making him forget about his cramped and aching legs. Beside the pool rested an unopened bottle of fine wine and a crystal goblet, compliments of the inn in Dalaran where Braeth’el was staying. Kyliska had not wanted him to go on this trip, but she’d given him a generous budget when she finally relented. They both knew that House Sunfire’s contribution to the war was small thanks in no small part to the drama they’d been dealing with, but Kyli would be damned if that contribution was wasted or if yet more shame was brought to her House, so she’d reluctantly said goodbye for a week while Braeth’el attended to these duties.

                All had gone well, and by tomorrow he’d be taking a portal back to Silvermoon to report to Kyliska directly. In the meanwhile, though, there was the nice hot, relaxing bath and a few moments of quiet to rest and recuperate. He slid further into the water until the heat was radiating into his rock-hard chest, his head leaning back against the wall of the bathing pool. He closed his eyes, breathing in deep and just enjoying the moment.

                His moment of rest was interrupted by the slightest of sounds. It was a mere nothing, a hint of something scuffing against the floor, but it sent his senses racing. He continued to stay still, his eyes closed as his ears strained to hear the sounds. They were close to him, but obviously masked by magic. Whatever was making them was not in a rush, clearly thinking he had not detected whatever it was. He smirked internally, mentally preparing and counting down; they would soon see who was the better assassin.

                When his countdown drew to zero, he suddenly lashed out, his right hand low enough to grab the foot or claw of whatever was slinking along the edge of the bath. As he expected, his hand grabbed a solid object and he yanked as hard as he could, partially rising from the bath from the effort and water running down his form and splashing the marble tiles that made up the floor.

                Braeth’el was expecting an assassin, or perhaps some magical monster roaming undetected in Dalaran. Perhaps a demon, or some other sinister thing that had come in with the troops. What he was not expecting was the thin air beside him to flicker and for a fully grown Draenei woman to appear, her arms windmilling frantically as his grip on her hoof held firm as steel. She held her balance for a second or two before she tumbled forward, tripped by his unexpected attack. She plunged face-first into the bath, a wave of water washing over him from the impact.

                Braeth’el sighed, eyeing the pleasantly curved rear of the Draenei as she struggled to right herself in the water. A pale grey tail waggled in his face, and he absently noted that the woman had been wearing a set of matching, deep-blue underwear. It was obvious that she had intended to sneak into his bath unnoticed before revealing herself, and given that objective, it was even more obvious who the Draenei was.

                For a moment, Braeth’el merely watched the struggling creature, his mind running from watching her rump shake in his face to contemplating holding her head under water and drowning her. Given the hardened hooves that were resting in his lap, he decided to forego murder for the moment, simply sitting back down and waiting patiently for Biara to drag herself out of the water.

                He was rewarded by the amusing sight of her rising from the water, her dark red hair wet and ragged around her face, water spewing from her mouth as she coughed. He smirked at her as she managed to flip over finally and settle herself on the other side of the bath, still coughing and spitting water.

                “You’re the absolute worst spy I’ve ever seen,” Braeth’el quipped at the panting Draenei.

                “Shut up, I’m not as accustomed to slipping into people’s baths as you are, Braeth’el,” Biara returned, her eyes glaring daggers at him.

                Braeth’el laughed, recalling the time he had done this to her. The situation had been reversed, and he had been the hunted one. The memory was clear as day, as was the reason why he’d done it; a reason that likely matched Biara’s reasoning now. He studied her for a moment, noting the scar below her right eye and others, barely visible beneath the surface of the water. One rose between her large, Draenei bosom, exactly where he would have expected it to be. She could not hide her scars, regardless of the form she took, and it was something he would note in the back of his mind. He brought his eyes up to hers, his voice still amused, “Parley?”

                She sighed and rolled her eyes, “Parley, yes.”

                Braeth’el nodded, leaning back against the edge of the pool; he wasn’t going to let her ruin his relaxation. He gestured with one hand at her, “Go right ahead. I’m curious as to what you think you will say that will explain or excuse any of this.”

                “Listen, let’s cut to the core of the issue,” Biara replied in a waspish tone. “You entered my home and destroyed much of my property, murdering some of my people. I have done the same to you. At the moment, the scores between us are even, and this need go no further if you’d like it to end.”

                Braeth’el frowned, giving her a hard stare, “That is hardly all you have done to us, to Kyliska. Do you think being ‘even’ in terms of damage and death is going to make her want to forgive you? Do you think anyone can ever take you back? You lied to all of us. You’re an enemy of our people and have been all this time. How can I even trust a word you say?”

                Biara’s next words rocked Braeth’el to his core, so unexpected was the response, “Kyliska is my blood descendant.”

                “What?! What do you mean, blood descendant? You’d better provide a hell of a lot more detail than that, Biara,” Braeth’el said in shock.

                The ‘draenei’ sitting across from him sighed, her voice filled with some emotion he could not place, “Long ago, I was born Kerriel Spellfury, of House Spellfury...in Zin-Azshari. I made several mistakes in Azshara’s court. Mistakes that were unforgivable at the time. I became pregnant while unmarried and unpromised, bringing shame on my family. I was banished from that place as soon as my child was born, taking her and fleeing into the wilderness far from the heart of our empire. That child, my dear, sweet Eli, had children of her own. They survived the Sundering and prospered, their blood passed down generation after generation. Some went with the exiled Highborne, some remained behind, but I kept track of each of them, through all the long years.”

                Braeth’el felt his heart pounding his chest. The news, if true, was unbelievable. Kyli’s family were blood heirs to this…creature sitting across from him? His voice took on an angry tone as he replied, “What gives you the right to hide amongst us, to pretend to be Kyli’s friend all these years? You betrayed her as good as any enemy, whether you are her blood kin or not.”

                “Don’t you think I know that?” Biara snapped back. “This is not the first time I have intervened with one of my descendants. I am older than you can imagine. I have survived for more than ten thousand years. Don’t lecture me on what is right or wrong! I’ve done what I’ve had to do to ensure that my blood carries on. That Eli’s children…that they carry on. That what she died for is not lost.”

                Braeth’el fell silent for a moment, considering the words carefully. The impact of what she’d said struck him as he contemplated it. The thing sitting in his bath was more than ten thousand years old. Had manipulated, cheated, lied, and survived for all that time. She’d been there all along, watching her blood. Likely she had watched Sassariel, watched as she… “You knew, didn’t you? You knew what Sassariel had done. That’s why you chose to watch over Kyli. You knew there would eventually be consequences.”

                Biara gave him a level look, her eyes conveying all he needed to know about her dedication to this cause, and the depths that she would go to pursue it, “I knew. I was watching her, as I’ve watched them all. Kyliska would have eventually been found out, and would have had nowhere to turn, no ally to aid her. Now though, she is safe, she controls land, property and men. They will stay loyal to her after all these years and fight for her. I did what I had to do to ensure that.”
                “You killed your own kind. You killed Kaldorei…”

                “Kaldorei are not ‘my kind’. There are none left like me now. I was exiled from amongst the Highborne, and unwanted amongst those who did not practice the deeper magics. I was outcast before our empire fell. I scraped and clawed my way through life in the forests with a newborn babe at my breast. If not for an old witch who lived in what you call Feralas now, we would not be having this conversation. You have no idea who you are dealing with, so I would suggest you stop making assumptions,” Biara ranted.

                “An old witch?” Braeth’el asked, attempting to calm her down. Although she was obviously unarmed, being almost nude, mages tended to never really be ‘unarmed’ and he didn’t want to deal with her getting any angrier.

                His tactic worked, and her eyes looked away into the distance for a moment, “Yes. She helped me when I was most in need. Taught me to survive, to be strong. It was she who first taught me the spell I’ve used to hide myself. A spell she tortured from a dragon. I took her name to honor her, to thank her for the life she gave me and my precious child.”

                “Her name…Biara?” Braeth’el said with wide eyes. He was getting more information than he’d expected.

                Biara nodded, her eyes boring into his now, “So now you know and understand. Kyliska is my blood heir, or one of them anyway. Everything I have done, has been to see her succeed. I am not out to trick or kill her, only to keep her safe. If she remains calm, remains peacefully tucked away, you will never see me again. You have no need to hunt me, or attempt to root out my spells. I am not actively trying to harm you or yours.”

                “You realize it will be difficult to get Kyli to listen to this, or to listen to reason regarding you, right?” Braeth’el said. “You know her. She is not going to just let this go. I don’t like you. I don’t trust you, but I also don’t want to be perpetually looking over my shoulder for your next attack. If you are willing to end this...I will see what I can do. I can’t promise that she will end her war against you though.”

                Biara sighed, nodding at him, “That is the most I could ask for I suppose. And I promise you that I will leave your House alone. I will break that vow if you harm any of my descendants however. Kyliska is not the only one, and I will not tolerate you interfering with the others.”

                “The others… Saveenah!” Braeth’el said, his eyes wide as understanding dawned on him.

                “Yes, Saveenah,” Biara replied. “If you touch even a hair on her head, you will be buried so deep that you will be erased from history itself. And you will not be the first to suffer such a fate. Do I make myself clear?”

                Braeth’el rolled his eyes, “Enough with the dramatics. Saveenah is not our enemy. She’s just a kid living in the forest. I somehow doubt she’s going to rise to threaten all Silvermoon. On top of that, Kyliska actually likes her, so I’m pretty sure we can assure you that we won’t touch her.”

                Biara considered this for a moment and then nodded, “Good, we are in agreement then. I have something for you. A token of my goodwill.”

                Braeth’el watched warily as Biara brought one of her Draenei hands up and began chanting. He marveled at how well her spell had changed her. For all intents and purposes, she was as Draenei. He suspected that if he stabbed her, blue blood would flow from her veins. Her hands moved in complex patterns until a tiny portal opened beside her. It was a spell he had seen often when she wanted to retrieve an item she’d stored away magically. She reached into the portal, and pulled out a small box, placing it on the edge of the pool. Her spell faded as she opened the box, revealing a small golden ring with a glittering, magical diamond set on top.

                “This was a promise ring, given to me long ago by Malandrae’s brother. It was meant to symbolize our love and bond, but he betrayed that and abandoned me in my time of need. I’ve kept it all this time, as a reminder of that betrayal. It is priceless now, for none alive can replicate the making of the diamond or the infusion of the mana into the precious stone. It is an heirloom of a different time, a different land where those of Kyliska’s blood ruled proudly and wisely for a time. I want you to take it, to give it to her when the time is right for you and her to finally be wed. Perhaps this gift will soothe the betrayal that she felt from what I did, perhaps two betrayals will make things right again. Regardless, I want you to take it with my blessing. Let it be the end of our feud.”

                Braeth’el nodded, looking at the glittering ring for a moment before turning to look back at Biara, “Very well. I will take your peace offering, and take your words to her. Perhaps she will be willing to let this die, or at least I can calm her ambitions somewhat. I hope that we never see each other again though, Biara. You were never safe or stable to be around. You always wrought destruction, regardless of what you thought you were trying to do. Being gone from our lives will be a blessing in and of itself. So get lost, and don’t try to sneak into my bath again either. Next time I will not be so forgiving.”

                Biara looked stung by the words for a moment, her face falling for a moment before it was concealed beneath a frigid mask. She rose, water running down her smooth Draenei form, towering over him for a moment, “Very well, Braeth’el. Let us hope this is our last meeting. Farewell.”

                He knew she was trying to impress him with her new form, trying to intimidate him with her size, but he was having none of it. He absently waved her away, reaching for his bottle of wine, his tone dismissive, “Bye.”

                He watched from the corner of his eye as she stepped from the bath and walked away on those hooves, the sound of them fading into the distance, each step allowing him to relax more as the tension from being near such a dangerous creature faded. He eased himself back into the bath, sighing and then taking a sip of wine. He raised his glass to the sparkling ring sitting beside the tub, an amused smirk across his face, “At least you saved me the coin of buying a ring for her, you heartless bitch. Good riddance!”

                He sighed again, setting down his glass and letting his eyes drift closed, enjoying the heat of the water once more.