“Left! Left!”
“I’m trying!”
“Harder or you’re going to hit!”
Miria gritted her teeth and yanked on the gryphon’s reins. The recalcitrant animal squawked and finally banked left, the pale stone of Shattrath’s central structure passing inches below its claws. “If we crash into something, you will not enjoy it either,” she informed the creature. It clacked its beak at her.
“You’re doing fine!” Lanaara shouted. She sat astride her own gryphon, perched on a crumbling piece of wall. Madhav flew in Miria’s wake, ready to swoop down and grab her if she lost her seat on the gryphon.
“Don’t lie to me, I’m terrible at this!” Miria shouted back.
“She is being honest - gryphons are hard creatures to manage,” Madhav said. He pulled alongside her. Unlike Lanaara’s gryphon - a snowy white creature with burnished blue and gold armor - Madhav’s gryphon was a skeletal, undead thing with glowing blue eyes. The musty smell of old bones and a whiff of rot carried over the breeze to her, and Miria sneezed. At least she could blame that much on the gryphon she rode.
“I think I’ve had enough of him for one day,” Miria said, nudging the gryphon with her knees. It dove for the ground with more speed than was strictly necessary, throwing her forward in the saddle as it landed. She dismounted quickly, glaring at it.
One of the nearby draenei who belonged to the Sha’tari Skyguard came forward to collect the animal. Most of them rode nether rays, native to their planet, but they kept gryphons around for aspiring riders like Miria to train on. “If you think a gryphon is difficult, don’t try getting up on one of the rays,” the draenei said. “They are much more tempermental.”
“I do not think that is possible,” Miria said sourly.
The draenei shook his head with an indulgent smile. “Our training gryphons are cranky,” he said. “They are ridden by too many who do not understand how to sit on a gryphon, and they are tired of having broken feathers and sore wings. You fly well - I believe you’re ready for a mount of your own.”
Miria’s jaw fell open. She had only been flying for a few days on the training gryphon. “Already?”
“Did I not tell you that you would learn quickly? You are a hunter, used to managing beasts. You do not take any nonsense from them.”
Naru came up as if on cue, snuffling her mistress to make sure Miria was all in one piece after her flight. Miria scratched her ears. “I suppose that is true. Naru can be stubborn, I am used to dealing with her.”
Madhav landed nearby, dismounting. His gryphon disappeared in the customary puff of smoke all mounts left behind when they vanished to... wherever they went when they were not being used. “What does happen to our mounts when we are not using them?” she asked.
The Skyguard draenei shrugged. “Our nether rays remain with us at all times,” he said. “For the rest, you would have to ask a mage. It is something about time warp and a pocket reality, but the last time they tried to explain it to me I am afraid my eyes glazed over.”
Miria grinned. “I know how you feel. They start getting esoteric and at a certain point I can’t follow them anymore.”
Lanaara joined them now. “So,” she said. “Let’s go visit the gryphon breeder.”
They thanked the Skyguard for their impeccable teaching and paid their fee - Miria swallowed at how deeply her flying lessons hurt her purse.
“Have you explored much of Azeroth?” Lanaara said as they strode away. Despite that the aerie was well across the city, they chose to walk. Madhav brought up their rear as Lanaara and Miria walked together. Miria felt like she was flying already, light on her hooves. Shattrath felt like home.
Thinking about Azeroth, though, gave her an unexpected pang of nostalgia. “I’ve traveled most of the kaldorei lands in northern Kalimdor, then sailed to Stormwind. From there I moved north to Ironforge, then further north through the Highlands.” She made a face. “Then we kept going into the Plaguelands.”
Lanaara nodded gravely. “So you see what we fight in Northrend.”
“It’s a thousand times worse up there,” Madhav said from behind him, his echoing voice a deep rumble. “The Scourge are too numerous and there are too few of us.”
“Which is why every one of us who can should be there now,” Lanaara retorted.
Miria fell back, wanting to see the death knight’s face as he spoke. It was carefully blank, but the hard clench of his jaw betrayed something else. She thought again of her promise to Treize, to stay away from the front lines. Madhav glanced down at her and said, “Orders bedamned.”
Lanaara spun around to glare at him. “Our people only have one home,” she snapped. “That home is Azeroth. We must protect it.”
“What are you talking about?” Miria cried, waving her hands at their surroundings. “Look how much we have rebuilt here!”
“Miria,” Lanaara said sadly, “Draenor is in its death throes. All that’s left of it is a chipped hunk of land floating in the nether - one that might shake itself apart at any moment. It’s no kind of home for our children.”
Miria’s shoulders slumped and she looked down at her hooves, feeling a lump rise in her throat. She knew the paladin was right because she’d seen it for herself. Shattrath made it easy to deny, but Draenor was broken beyond true repair.
“Think about the forests of Ashenvale, or about Stormwind’s walls rising around you. Those are all in danger.”
“Stop recruiting,” Madhav snapped. “You should be ashamed of yourself. The Scourge is not like the Legion - they are only driven by hunger for flesh and the will of Arthas, the latter of which I am intimately familiar, in case you had forgotten.” Miria was close enough to him that she heard his armor creak as he tensed. When she looked up, there was more tightness around his jaw. Miria was surprised she couldn’t hear his teeth grind together.
“Perhaps you do not care about your orders or your loyalty to the Ebon Blade, but I cannot ignore a summons to the front,” Lanaara said. She scowled at him. “The Aldor hardly need me here any longer - incidents like the one with that warlock notwithstanding, the Shattered Sun Offensive handily brokered peace between our peoples.”
“You need not try to drag others with you,” Madhav said.
“I meant it when I said we need all the help we can get,” Lanaara said. “I am sure Miria is perfectly capable of taking care of herself.”
Madhav halted suddenly, drawing himself up as tall as he would stand with his hand on his runeblade. He seethed silently, glaring chilly blue at Lanaara. The paladin didn’t seem concerned, but Miria saw her hand edge toward her own weapon slowly. The two stared at each other for a long moment, tension stringing out. Finally, he spoke, biting out each word in his echoing voice. “So was I.”
Lanaara looked away. Miria swallowed. “That’s where...?”
“I have the war in Northrend to thank for this,” he said, waving his hand at himself. “If the Scourge want that continent, they can have it. The living do not belong there.” He uncurled his fingers from the hilt of his blade - it looked like it cost him physical effort. He looked down at Miria. “Do not go to Northrend. Stay in Azeroth, fight in the Plaguelands if you must, but do not go to the front lines. There is only death there.”
He turned and walked away from them - his steps led in the direction of the tavern. “Azeroth will not long be safe!” Lanaara called after him, and Miria saw she was shaking his head. “He was a brave Vindicator once,” she said sadly.
“The war took more than his life from him,” Miria said. “You shouldn’t press him.”
Lanaara shrugged. “I have seen wars take many things from many people,” she said. “I am tired of watching our people flee instead of standing to fight. We have nowhere else to go - we defend this world, or we have nothing.” She clapped Miria on the shoulder. “Do not concern yourself with Madhav - he has many things to be bitter about. We are here, see?”
They had indeed come to the aerie. Miria directed Naru to stay outside and entered, hearing the soft rustling of feathers and the scratch of sharpening claws. A member of the Skyguard kept the aerie, and led them among her stock of gryphons. Miria may not have been an expert in gryphons in particular, but she knew animals. She inspected the gryphons with a critical eye, running her hands over leonine flanks and strong, avian necks to feel for strength.
She finally settled on a creature with a spark of cleverness in her gold eyes. The eagle foreparts were black, the lion hindparts a dark reddish brown. “This one,” she said with confidence.
“You have a good eye,” The aerie keeper said, and reached into a leather pouch on the door of the gryphon’s stall. In it was a scroll that glittered with magic. She handed the scroll to Miria, who smiled broadly as she pressed her thumb into its wax seal. The scroll burst into gold light in her hands, and the gryphon she’d chosen vanished in a puff of smoke. She was bound to Miria now, available for summon whenever the hunter needed her.
The rest of Miria’s purse went into the aerie keeper’s hands, and she left feeling satisfied but a bit depressed. “How am I do go campaigning in Northrend if I have no more reward money?”
Lanaara brightened. “You’ve decided to go?”
Miria thought of her promise to Treize one more time, but it was no more safe on Draenor than it was on Azeroth. She thought of Madhav’s stern warning and the anger snapping out of his cold blue eyes. She nodded. “I know it’s dangerous, but you’re right - our people need a place where we can live, not just survive.” She smiled crookedly at the paladin. “I’m tired of running, too.”
Lanaara laughed at her. “Tired of running! You’ve barely been doing it for a century. Try a few thousand years and then tell me that.” She shook her head. “I’ve been ordered to report as soon as I can - there’s a portal in the city’s center.”
“Slow down,” Miria said. “I didn’t say I wanted to leave right away. I must write to my father, in case he felt like looking for me here. I need my armor seen to - there’s no telling what Kaster might have done to it while I was unconscious.”
“How did you even begin traveling with him?” Lanaara asked, disbelieving.
Miria told her as they walked, first to the armorers where she had a blacksmith inspect her mail. To her surprise, it had not suffered any ill effects in Kaster’s laboratory. She supposed he had only been interested in her, so it did make sense. They went then to the bank below the Aldor Rise, where Miria found to her dismay that she had neglected to put any funds away for an emergency.
“It’s no trouble,” Lanaara said. “I will be happy to pay for what you might need.”
“Then let’s stop by the tavern,” Miria said. “There may be someone who needs a favor - I can make a little extra coin before we go.”
Lanaara made a face. “You just want to go after Madhav.”
“I am concerned about him,” Miria said. “He seems not to have any friends. What will he do when you and I are both gone from the city?”
“You only met him a few days ago,” Lanaara said. “I have known him for a long time, he will be fine.”
“Fine, as in he will sit in the tavern for the rest of his existence trying unsuccessfully to drown in beer,” Miria said. “It is no way for anyone to be.”
Lanaara did not answer her, which was just as well, because they stepped into the tavern a moment later. Miria wasted no time crossing to the bar and taking a seat next to Madhav. Lanaara hesitated only a moment before following her.
Madhav looked up as they sat down, frowning. “I do not wish to speak to you, Lanaara,” he said.
“She was not the one who wanted to come here,” Miria said. “I wanted to tell you that we are leaving for Northrend in the morning.”
The wooden mug in his hand creaked under the force of his grip. His face stayed impassive, but Miria could tell that he was angry. “You are a fool,” he said. “A young fool - they say the Light protects fools. I hope it is true.”
“You could come protect me yourself,” Miria said.
Madhav’s grip relaxed suddenly and he blinked startled. “I could what?”
“You could come with us, and watch my back. That way you would know I haven’t come to harm.”
“Miria,” Lanaara said, her voice amused.
“Why should I do that?” Madhav asked.
“I’ll give you thirty percent of my profits,” Miria said. “Adventuring is quite the money maker - and there are sure to be plenty of people who require specialized assistance on the war front.”
“You think I would return to that place for gold?” Madhav’s brow wrinkled, the tentacles on his chin quivering. He looked like he did not know what to make of Miria.
“Not just for gold,” Miria said. “Gold, and defense of our home.”
Madhav snorted, turning back to his beer. “You have listened to too much of Lanaara’s recruting speech.”
“She is right,” Miria said quietly. “We cannot stay here. Azeroth is the only place left to us. Will you sit idly by while our people lose another home?”
Silence settled over the death knight. Miria waited, not wanting to push any harder. She wanted him to come with them, not only because she didn’t think it was right to leave him here with no one interested in his welfare, but because she wanted his sword at her back. She had seen what a death knight could do in combat - and he knew the Scourge. It would give them an advantage.
Madhav leaned around Miria to glare at Lanaara. “This is a dirty trick, sending the child to convince me to fight.”
“I am not a child!” Miria protested hotly.
“It was her idea,” Lanaara said.
Madhav looked between the two of them and rubbed his forehead with the heel of his hand, downing the rest of his beer. “If only because I do not want to see the two of you dead, I will come. Do not expect me to be cheerful about it.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to be cheerful about anything,” Lanaara said, rising from the bar. “We leave in the morning. Meet us by the portal to Ironforge - dawn. Do not be late.”
“It is not as if I will oversleep,” Madhav grumbled, and banged his tankard on the bar, signaling the barkeep for another. “Northrend. Wretched place. You will see when you get there.”
