c14

In the Dream...

Amerian stood alone in a cool forest. Around the Night Elf scribe bright bluish green foliage flourished at the base of great, ancient trees that whispered in light breezes, and soft loamy earth could be felt by his bare lavender colored toes and soles. Through gaps in the trees he could see the starry night sky above him, the soft white light of Elune bathing the woods in her gentle, motherly radiance. The scents of fragrant grasses and flora overwhelmed him just as the vibrancy of the living nature around him comforted his Kaldorei heart. In the distance he could see a great lake upon which the silvery light reflected settled at the base of cliffs.

"Where am I?" He wondered at the pristine world around him as he turned around and around to get his bearings. His surroundings reminded him of a place near his original home of Nighthaven in the Moonglade, but there was no town upon the cliffs that he could see, nor any evidence of elven habitation or civilization.

Try as he might, he could not remember how he might have gotten to this place. Was it a vision or a dream? If it was, the sights, sounds, and smells of it assaulted his senses in a way that even the waking world had never done.

As he watched, the silver moonlight around him began to coalesce and take shape in front of him into something tangible. It twisted and wove itself into the tall form of a translucent elven woman composed of the moonlight. And she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, so much so that his heart ached, though not in a romantic way as he might have thought it would have. Instead, as he looked upon her, he felt a maternal aching as though looking upon a royal mother whom he had never truly known. The Kaldorei woman's features were flawless, as was the moon crested diadem which rested upon her brow. Her translucent, white dress was similar to one that a priestess might wear. On her lips and etched in her eyes was a weary, genuine smile. In her right hand was held a sharp scythe decorated with runes and glowing with the same silvery moonlight with which she was made.

"Greetings, Amerian." The woman spoke gently as though a mother to her dearest child. "Welcome."

And then Amerian dropped to his knee in reverence, his right hand over his heart, as his mind grasped who the matronly form was in front of him.

"Mother Elune." He addressed her, his voice filled with awe and affection for his people's matron goddess.

"Rise, child. I am only a servant of the Light as are you." Elune responded, taking one hand, placing it on his arm and gently guiding him to his feet. "There is much you must know as the time grows short. There is much you must explain to Azeroth's other children about their mother."

"I... I confess I don't understand. I believed that you were our mother." Amerian told her somewhat sheepishly.

"Me? No, child. I am only a caretaker. I was one of the first of the Light's creations tasked with a single, special purpose. I was given a special soul to watch over, a world soul. I was to protect her and all of her children and nurture her as best I could until she was mature enough and strong enough to fulfill her purpose in the Light's will." Elune responded. "I watched over her for millennia as she slept in peace, growing like a babe in a womb just waiting to be born."

Amerian considered this, and then asked, "Where are we, if I may ask?"

"This is her dream. Your people have referred to it as the Emerald Dream, the vision she has while she sleeps." Elune replied. "It is the vision of a world uncorrupted by the Void or its agents and unsullied by 'civilization.' It is the purpose for which she was made."

"I don't understand, holy one. I am not worthy of your presence, much less this revelation. Why show me this?" Amerian asked.

"When the Titans discovered Azeroth, they believed she could be used as an ultimate weapon against the Void gods. But by that point, she had already become infected by the parasites your people call "old gods", agents of the Void sent to weaken her and keep her from maturing. In that, I failed in my duties and was thankful when they came and drove back the infestation. My powers only extend so far, and it is my purpose to heal and nurture life, not destroy it. But that was not the Void's only attempt at harming her, was it?" Elune told him, seemingly either ignoring his question or answering it with a much longer explanation than he expected.

"No. There have been many attacks. The last one by Sargeras nearly killed her, or so I am led to believe by those more knowledgeable about such things than I." Amerian answered his goddess.

"Indeed it did. And then the Holy Light's own plan of salvation for Azeroth and her children came to maturity. It was a plan that neither I nor the Titans, nor even the Void itself understood or foresaw." Elune told him.

"Shan'do Jeshua and the New Dawn." Amerian then said, understanding to what she was referring. "His death healed Azeroth herself and destroyed the sword driven into her side."

The goddess nodded approvingly like a mother delighted her child was paying attention.

"And now you must write down what I am about to tell you, Amerian, because this comes from the Holy Light, eternal, unquenchable, which was, and is, and will always be. Something beautiful is about to happen. My vigil is at an end. My beloved charge has reached full maturity. The Light is coming for its bride and all the forces of the Void cannot stand against it. The marriage will happen, and when it does the Void will be no more. The dream will become reality. All of the Light's creation will be made fresh and new and all will be set to right." Elune told him, growing more passionate as she spoke, her silvery light growing brighter and brighter. "The children of Azeroth must be warned. They must accept Jeshua's pact if they would continue. The husband seeks to make the bride's children his own. It is the only way they will be rescued from what is coming."

"What will happen, Mother Elune? What is going to happen to Azeroth?" Amerian asked, feeling more shaken as she spoke.

"The sleeper will awaken." She told him. "Azeroth awakens to meet her husband."

In Lordaeron City...

Amerian awoke with a start in the darkness of the cloister apartment given for his use by Sylvanas Windrunner. His skin was streaked with sweat as his eyes flew open, startled and looking around his bed chamber. Through an open window, silvery moonlight had gently flowed in, illuminating the room and bathing it in its kindly radiance. His heart was pounding, and filled with a mixture of both joy and terror as he recalled the message and images he had been given.

The details of his dream were vivid and real, and he took the goddess's words to heart as he swung his bare legs over the side of the bed and placed his bare feet on the floor. His Kaldorei eyesight, naturally adapted to the gentle moonlight, found his writing desk across the small room, and the inkwell and light parchment still on it. He stood up from his bed, his legs somewhat unsteady from the adrenaline coursing through his veins and having just woken up, and made his way to the desk. Sitting down, he began to write down everything from the vision he could still remember, embellishing nothing. He would write it exactly as it had been shown him, especially the goddess's final and most important message to Azeroth's children. She had explicitly wanted him to send that message to all of his world's peoples before it became too late.

"Azeroth is waking..." He said to himself as all of the implications overwhelmed his sleep fogged mind.

The next morning...

Grayson Shadowbreaker sat in a pew, hands folded and head bowed in front of the altar in Lordaeron's Cathedral. He had returned to the city alone the previous day, himself still shaken by the events which had occurred in Tranquillien which had seen the Void purged from Alleria Windrunner and her followers, and seen Lordaeron's queen reunited with her sisters as family once more.

Sylvanas Windrunner had remained in Quel'Thalas with her sisters alongside the Blood Knight Matriarch, Lady Liadrin and the Regent Lord of Silvermoon, Lor'themar Theron. There had still been much which needed to be discussed about the future of the Quel'dorei, and that discussion would still not be easy, but Vereesa and the other High Elves had been more willing to listen to reason and to discuss what was truly best for their people moving forward upon the revelation of the Void possessions. At least it had sounded to him like there would be no further attacks upon relief ships from Orgrimmar, and it felt as though his part to play there had been finished for the moment. He was not needed to deliver Jeshua's message any further. Sylvanas Windrunner was both an eyewitness of Jeshua's death and resurrection, and free with relating those events which she had seen and heard. Hers was a more powerful voice to tell that story than Grayson's own. The Quel'dorei would have no doubt as to who they had to thank for lives given back to them. Of this the Paladin had no doubts.

He had replayed the event in Tranquillien in his mind many times, and after it had spent much time in contemplation and prayer trying to understand what had occurred. He knew he had been conscious and in control of his actions as they were taken, and yet those actions and words were not his and had not originated from him. It was as if he had surrendered control of himself, only to be taken by the hand and allowed to participate willingly regardless in a kind of cooperation. It was like no experience with the Holy Light that he had ever had, but much more personal and intimate.

The power and authority he had felt had been beyond... just beyond as though the Shadow had no choice but to submit to the Light's command, but it had not belonged to Grayson at all.

"You look haunted, friend." A familiar voice spoke to him knowingly from the end of the pew. "Like you've seen something you didn't expect to happen."

Grayson looked up and turned his head to see the older emissary, Jim Jacobson, standing not far from him. The man gestured towards the seat next to him and asked, "May I?"

Grayson nodded wearily, sitting back in the pew and letting out a sigh. He hadn't slept since returning to the city. As he thought about it, how long had it been since he had slept? In truth, he couldn't remember. So much had happened to him he had lost track.

"I know the look in your eyes pretty well. The first time I really caught a glimpse of who the Captain is was durin' a bad squall at Menethil Harbor." Jim told him. "I was just sure the whole town was goin' t' be washed away by the storm, and here's this wet behind the ears landlubber kid who gets up and goes outside like it's nothin'. I run after him thinkin' he's out of his mind and I gotta pull him back inside. The next thing I knew, he's yellin' at the storm, 'shut up and go home!' like a mad man."

Jim chuckled at the memory. Grayson smiled at the old sailor's account.

"Imagine my surprise when the storm did just that, tuckin' its tail and runnin' like a dog just scolded by its master. It was the damnedest thing I'd ever seen in my whole life, and I'd seen a few shamans who knew their stuff. I knew then he wasn't no ordinary Priest or teacher. After that, I sold everythin' I had and went with him, and then I found out what I saw then was nothin' compared to what he could really do, and what he gave us the power to do."

Grayson was quiet as he listened to the man's story.

"You look like you've seen some of the same." Jim said.

"I don't understand what happened. I'm not one of you. I'm not an emissary. I've wielded the Light in battle before. I've healed, I've... judged with the Light, but this was different. I felt Jeshua take control of me and drive the Void itself from people just like the storm you just described. I'm not..." Grayson tried to explain.

"Worthy?" Jim finished his sentence for him. He laughed at the word. "Hell, son. None of us are. I sure ain't. I wasn't never a religious man my whole life. Spent my whole life at sea movin' from ship to ship and port to port, and most of the time from bottle to bottle to boot. Never tried to be a bad man, but I wasn't a good one neither. Never did learn my letters past being able to read a chart at sea, much less the big holy books the Priests and Paladins use. Hardly ever set foot in a church, and never really wanted to. But the Captain didn't care about that. He said he needed help to finish what he started and wanted us to go with him. That was all. I sure as hell wasn't worthy when he told me to watch out for the others before he left like some kind of overseer or leader. It's not about bein' worthy. It's all about what Jeshua wanted. It's all about the healin' he brings, tryin' to set things right that got all screwed up. You know Thaddeus 'n Mathaius?"

Grayson shook his head. "I haven't met them, no."

"Two of Jeshua's emissaries besides me. You know what they were before they met the Captain?" Jim asked him.

Grayson shook his head again.

"Undead assassins. I don't know how many people they killed in cold blood, and I don't want to. The Captain healed them all the same and called them to follow him same as me. Two of the most devoted men I have ever met now." Jim told the Paladin. "Old Syloren? He was a Demon Hunter that went nuts and hurt a bunch of Night Elves. To hear Vasuuvata tell it, it was a horror show. Those women were dying in their own blood when Jeshua got to them. Jeshua drove the demon blood out of him and made him a whole new elf. One of the best friends I ever had. The Captain made him an emissary too. He went back home a little while ago to try and bring Jeshua's message to his own people. It's only because of Jeshua that he could go home in the first place. Everybody on Azeroth knows about Sylvanas and the kinds o' things she's done, things that'd give even the strongest man nightmares, but she was the first one he appeared to after resurrectin' himself, and he told her as far as the Light was concerned she was completely forgiven for it all. There ain't none of us that're worthy of anything the Captain's done for us or through us. It's only 'cause he wanted to give it that we've got it."

The Paladin thought deeply on the sailor's words as he spoke. His plain spoken salty language struck him deeply as honest and heartfelt. It was so different from the pleasantries and smiling falsehoods which one frequently encountered among the nobility and even within the church itself.

"Lady Liadrin introduced me to Lor'themar Theron as one of you. I'm sorry, it wasn't my idea." Grayson told him. It had truly bothered him ever since she had said those words.

"Don't be." Jim told him, putting his hand on the man's shoulder. "It sounds like the Captain backed it up pretty powerful-like. You are one of us, son. If it's good enough for the Captain to use you like that, it's good enough for me."

They sat together then for a while in silence.

"Jim!" A Kaldorei man came into the sanctuary calling out the old sailor's name. There was an urgency in his expression, and a kind of fear. Several sheets of parchment were in his right hand, writing scrawled on all of them.

Jim then stood up from where he sat and replied, "What's goin' on, Amerian. You look like you've seen a ghost. Pretty sure there ain't any more o' those here like there used to be. What happened?"

"Here, you need to read this!" Amerian thrust the papers at him. "A vision came to me last night. We need to tell the others!"

"Wait, slow down, brother." Jim told him, holding up his hands and gesturing. "You know I couldn't read it if I wanted to, not that fast anyways. What's it say?"

"Something is about to happen. Something both wonderful and terrible." Amerian told him. "We need to call the others and tell them. Jeshua's message, his pact, has to go to the entire world."

"Yeah, I knew that. He told us so. I was there when he said it. We're working on it. We'll get there eventually. It's a big world you know." Jim replied with a friendly if somewhat confused smile. "Andrew and Syloren have already gone off, and Peter and Vasuuvata have been talking about headin' out here soon too. It's gonna get pretty lonely 'round here."

"No. You don't understand. We have to go now. All of us. We can't wait any longer for things to happen slowly. They all need to hear now, as soon as possible and take Jeshua's pact." Amerian was insistent.

"What's going to happen? What do those papers you've got there have to do with it? Where'd they come from?" Jim asked.

"I wrote them last night after I awoke. Elune came to me. She never speaks to anyone directly that I have heard of, and yet she came and spoke to me last night in the Dream. She told me to write everything down so I wouldn't forget." The scribe replied. "I'm glad she did. It's all getting hazier in my mind the longer I go. But the most important thing she told me, the thing people need to know, is that Azeroth is waking up."

Looks of surprise crossed both human men's expressions. "Excuse me?" Jim asked.

Grayson hearing the exchange and seeing the Night Elf man's disconcerted body language and hearing the urgent, even frightened tone of his voice became concerned and then also stood up. When he heard Amerian's pronouncement, a grave and sober look came over his face and he asked, "Are you certain it wasn't just a dream?"

"This wasn't just any dream, human. This was the Dream I met her in. The Emerald Dream of Azeroth unscathed and unmolested. I have never felt anything more real in all the thousands of years I have walked this world." Amerian told him.

The Paladin then asked him, "May I see those?" Gesturing for the pages in the Night Elf's lavender hand.

Amerian then handed them to him and he began to read. The Kaldorei man had written them hastily in human common. As he read, he sat down trying to absorb the message contained therein.

"This came last night? In a vision?" Grayson asked the Night Elf scribe.

Amerian nodded. "I swear, it's everything I saw and heard." He responded.

"Well, what's it say?" Jim asked, his smile faltering a bit as Grayson's expression grew more serious and somber.

"Amerian's right, Jim. We need to warn them. All of them." Grayson then pronounced. "There's no time to waste."

"Warn who?" Jim asked, confused.

"Everyone. The whole world. Everything has just changed." Grayson told him. "Our world is about to end, and Jeshua's the only way anyone survives it."

Jim's eyes went wide as he exclaimed, "Holy Light. I..." The sailor looked as if he was going to be ill. He then composed himself and said, "You're right, we need to get everyone together and make a plan. We need to send word to Syloren and Andrew where they're at. We need to..." The older man looked overwhelmed as the implications of Grayson's words sank in. "I don't know... I'm no strategist... All those people..."

Grayson paused for a minute before responding, "But I am. I helped strategize and coordinate attacks for the Order during the war. Maybe I can put that experience to good use here. We'll need everyone, and we'll need to inform Sylvanas. Lord Tyrosus, the Highlord, and all of Azeroth's leadership. The Order of the Silver Hand may be a resource as well as its devoted to the Light and apolitical."

Grayson's mind began to whir as it started thinking in terms of assets, resources, and battle plans.

Jim nodded appreciatively. "Thank you, Grayson. It looks like the Captain brought you on board at just the right time after all."

Elsewhere in Lordaeron City...

The Davidson family had just finished breakfast when a knock came at the sturdy wooden door of the apartment which had been assigned to them. The executors and overseers of the city had been impressed with the craftsmanship that Joseph and his sons quickly displayed. Soon, they had been so swamped with work and requests for more that they had been assigned people to assist them and found themselves overseeing a large number of woodworkers in the city at the request of the magistrates.

They had been fortunate that the living space which had been available had a kitchen alcove with fireplace for baking and cooking. Not all of the newly refurbished apartments did, many of the people expected to take their meals in a commons like the inns or among the laborers while construction was still ongoing. Special consideration was given because of their children which were still a rarity among those in the north.

The table was still in the process of being cleared, and the smells of breakfast still hung in the air. Some locally obtained meat and fried spice bread with herbed eggs which had been sold in the market much earlier that morning. Joseph still sat at his place going over some sheets of paper containing work orders which had been given with his two sons, Jimmy and Joseph jr. who had become invaluable to him.

"You know, I never expected to come here and find myself buried in even more work than we had back in Stormwind." He remarked as he read.

Miriam Davidson had just collected the dishes and placed them into a wash basin filled with water when she heard her older son, Jimmy, call out, "Mom, it's for you!" After the door had been unlatched,

somewhat annoyed at being interrupted, but curious as to who it might be, she dried her hands quickly, wiping them on a hand towel nearby and then went from the kitchen to the door.

As her son opened the door wider upon her approach, and then stepped out of the way, she saw the friendly face of Archbishop Alonsus Faol robed once more as a mere Priest of the Light, and not according to the station which she knew he was entitled to. A warm smile of greeting crossed her face at seeing the grandfatherly older man. Since they had met in the Cathedral he had taken it upon himself to take her and her family under his wing and welcome them not only to the city, but back into the congregation of the church, introducing them all to her son's emissaries and helping her to see the good Jeshua had done for them all. She owed the man a great debt, she felt.

"Your grace! We weren't expecting you. Oh, we've just finished breakfast too, but I might still have some spiced bread and honey out on the table." Miriam told him, flustered that she hadn't been warned of his visit.

"Oh, no! Please, don't. I only stopped by because there was someone I knew who very much would want to meet you. I hope it is not an imposition upon you." The man told her with a genuine smile, though there was a look in his eyes that suggested he wasn't certain how that meeting would go. The clergyman then gestured behind him to a female figure wearing a cowl to hide her features. She too wore gilded white robes which marked her as a devotee of the Light and a Priestess.

"May we come in?" He asked. "It might be best if this was done privately."

"Of... Of course, your grace." Miriam responded, uncertain of who the unknown woman was or why the kind elder cleric seemed so uncertain and yet intentional about the meeting. "Joseph, we have guests." She then turned and told her husband and children.

The archbishop and the woman who had come with him entered the dwelling, and then bade Miriam close the door discreetly.

Joseph looked up from where he had sat, and then stood up to move to greet the cleric and shake his hand warmly. "It's good to see you, your grace. You're always welcome here among us."

"Thank you, sir. That means more to me than you might know." Bishop Faol replied.

"And who might this be?" Joseph then asked, stretching out his hand in a welcome gesture to the unknown woman.

"It is a great honor, sir." Came the woman's voice as she took his hand, and Joseph noted how much like his wife's her voice sounded.

She then drew back her cowl, revealing a handsome middle aged woman about Miriam's height. Her shoulder length hair was strawberry blond like Miriam's own though strands of silver could be seen here and there. Her eyes, misting over as she looked on the younger woman, and lined with light crow's feet marks, were also sea green like Miriam's. Joseph's wife looked on her new guest and had the strangest feeling of looking into a kind of mirror of what she herself might look like much later in life. She felt familiar, and yet she knew she had never met the woman before that she could remember.

She found that she had trouble taking her own eyes from her.

"Miriam Davidson, may I introduce you to Calia. Calia... Menethil." Bishop Faol told her, hesitating before giving the woman's family name.

And then the living space went dead silent as the elder cleric added two more words, "Your mother."

Joseph's eyes moved from Calia to Miriam and back to Calia again as he tried to process what the Bishop had said. He remembered the paintings and pictures he had seen of the royal Menethil family, and remembered the name of the princess who had long been thought dead after the third war. Those pictures had always depicted a much younger woman barely out of childhood.

Miriam said nothing. Her hand came to her open mouth in shock as emotion after emotion surfaced and then disappeared only to surface again in her expression. This went on as the two women looked at each other unsure of what to say, or even what to feel.

It was Bishop Faol who then spoke again, breaking the deafening silence. "I hid Calia's continued existence from both the Lich King and the Banshee Queen for decades as we moved from hiding spot to hiding spot across Lordaeron, always trying to keep her safe from those that would see her dead. Neither of us believed she had any family left in the world until now. When I learned who you were, I kept my word. I did not reveal your identity to anyone in this city. Your mother has not set foot in this city in many years, but has remained in the cloister at Netherlight Temple far, far away from here. I... I thought it only right that I tell her. Forgive me, if I was mistaken."

"My..." Miriam then spoke, her gaze still on the woman in front of her. In truth, she didn't know how to respond to any of it. There had been many sisters in the cloister in which she was raised that had been like mothers to her and had, at one time, filled that place in her life. She had, once upon a time been curious as to her origins, but they had not been terribly important to her among those sisters. When Joseph had revealed what he had suspected of her origins, in truth it had frightened her just a little.

"Perhaps this was a mistake." Calia then spoke, tears in her eyes. "I shouldn't have come here and disturbed you and your beautiful family. I should return home. I'm terribly sorry."

She then turned, pain in her expression, and made to draw her cowl over her face once more and depart.

"No, wait." Miriam then called out behind her. "Please, stay."

In truth, she didn't know what else to say, but she did not want this woman who so resembled herself to just walk out of her life after just learning that she existed. "I want you to stay. I want... I want to know more. I... I would like to know you."

Calia then turned around once more, some hope lit in her eyes. "And I you." She replied.

"Please. Won't you come and sit down?" Miriam invited her, gesturing to the chairs at the table.

"Yes, please. Uh... Your Highness. Please, you're absolutely welcome here with us." Joseph joined his wife in the invitation somewhat awkwardly.

Calia laughed a bit through the tears which had fallen down her cheeks. "Please, just Calia. That was another lifetime long, long ago."

"Uh, yeah. Of course, uh... Calia. Please, come and sit down though." He replied. "We don't turn away family."