Chapter 50: Sisters Reunited

The twilight of Theramore filtered through the stained-glass windows, casting mottled light and shadow across the oak floors of the Dren estate. The fire in the hearth burned quietly, occasionally spitting a spark and illuminating the delicate standoff in the living room.

Onyxicia sat regally before the gilded tea set, her slender fingers pinching a silver spoon as she poured a third brew of black tea into her cup. The amber liquid swirled, and the rising steam blurred her vertical golden pupils.

"Would you like lemon or honey?" Her voice was as cloyingly sweet as melted sugar, yet her fingertips unconsciously left a faint claw mark on the silver spoon.

Sylvanas stood with her back against the French window, her backlit silhouette resembling an unsheathed blade. She did not even turn her head, merely tapping the window frame lightly with her fingertips. She had been frequenting this place lately, silently watching and observing Dren.

"It seems our guest does not care for tea~" Onyxicia pushed a cup toward the empty seat, the bottom clinking against the saucer with a provocative ring.

On the other side of the living room, Chromie was entirely swallowed by a velvet sofa, a bronze hourglass of time hanging crookedly from her waist. She was engrossed in a gold-embossed copy of *The Secret History of the High Elf Court*, the cover bearing flamboyant script that read: "Top Secret: For Royal Eyes Only." This was likely a prize she had salvaged during her previous rescue mission in Silvermoon City, as it would have been destroyed by the flames anyway. Better let a bronze dragon keep it safe!

"Pfft, Hahaha—" The bronze dragon in her diminutive gnome form suddenly kicked her short legs and accidentally overturned her teacup. Catching Onyxicia's glare, the little gnome hurriedly and meticulously cast a spell to clean the sofa and carpet.

Dren sat in a rocking chair by the hearth, a heavy volume of *Gnomish Engineering* spread across his knees. The firelight reflected in his glasses, obscuring his expression. Each time the rocking chair tilted forward, the flames illuminated a clear scratch on his neck—the badge of honor from his "intense discussion" with Onyxicia the night before. He was simply too weak!

"Darling," the Black Dragon Princess suddenly brought a cup of black tea to his lips, "you've been staring at page seven for a whole hour."

Dren's fingertips twitched imperceptibly. How could I possibly read a good book when you lot turn this place into a battlefield every single day? he complained inwardly.

"I was contemplating a new plan." He sipped the black tea without changing his expression.

A blinding blue-white light suddenly burst in the center of the living room, the arcane energy in the air vibrating violently and causing the silver tableware on the coffee table to ring. Chromie flailed in a panic to stuff the picture book into her bodice, only for the gilded corner of the cover to scratch her chin.

"Ouch! By the Sands—"

As the light faded, Jaina Proudmoore's figure gradually materialized. Her left hand maintained the ending posture of a teleportation spell, while her right hand gripped Vereesa Windrunner's collar like a stray kitten. The young ranger's feet hadn't even touched the floor yet, her entire body suspended in mid-air with un-dried tear tracks still lingering on her face.

"Look what I found wandering in the city?" Jaina's tone carried a forced lightness, but the frost shimmering at her fingertips betrayed her emotions. "A lost little kitten, asking everyone she met if they'd seen her sister."

Time in the living room seemed to freeze for a second.

Onyxicia's teacup hovered in mid-air, a single drop of black tea slowly sliding down the rim; Dren's book remained half-turned; even the flames of the hearth were bizarrely locked into amber-like crystals—the brief stagnation caused by Chromie's unconscious leakage of temporal power.

Only Sylvanas moved.

Her motion was as fast as silver lightning, her quiver swinging an arc as she spun around sharply, two arrows already instinctively nocked to her bowstring—until she saw her sister's face and froze.

"Ver... eesa?"

Vereesa's lips trembled, and the tears that had accumulated in her blue eyes for too long finally breached their dam. She broke free from Jaina's grip, stumbled forward, but tripped over the edge of the carpet in her final step.

Sylvanas instinctively opened her arms.

The impact of the colliding sisters made Sylvanas take half a step back. Vereesa's fingers clutched tightly at her elder sister's leather armor, her knuckles turning white from the force as if she were a drowning person clutching the final driftwood. She buried her entire face in the hollow between Sylvanas's shoulder guard and collarbone, scalding tears instantly soaking through the silver armor.

"I was wrong... everything was wrong..." Vereesa's sobbing voice trembled with heart-rending agony. "Kael'thas... Dalaran has..."

The disjointed words pierced Sylvanas's ears like shattered glass. She could feel her sister's spine protruding clearly beneath her palm—Vereesa had lost far too much weight.

Jaina quietly retreated two steps, positioning herself right beside Dren's rocking chair. Her fingertips traced a rune behind her back, and a soundproofing barrier silently unfurled.

"She's been wandering the alleys of the Old Quarter all day," Jaina said in a voice only Dren could hear. "Rushing up to any elf woman with golden hair to verify her identity."

Dren's glasses reflected the embracing sisters. "And the situation in Dalaran?"

"Yesterday, some elven mages forced their way into the material warehouse just to fight over mana crystals," Jaina's lips tightened. "Antonidas has started using arcane chains to detain mana-addicted patients for public executions, but it's not working very well."

On the other side, Onyxicia had drifted over to Chromie's side at some point. The two dragons communicated through glances—

*(Should we throw them out?)* (The black dragon raised an eyebrow.)
*(If you dare touch them, Dren will be furious!)* (The bronze dragon glared.)

Vereesa's crying gradually subsided into soft whimpers, yet she refused to let go of Sylvanas, as if letting go would make the other vanish. Snot and tears smeared messily across her elder sister's pauldrons, some of the moisture even seeping into the armor joints.

Sylvanas's expression wavered in a rare display of emotion. She raised a hand, hesitated for a moment, and finally placed it gently upon her sister's golden hair—a comforting gesture so unfamiliar it felt centuries apart.

Onyxicia rolled her eyes, but at a cue from Dren's gaze, she reluctantly pulled a black silk handkerchief from her sleeve. The corner of the handkerchief was embroidered with a miniature dragon motif, clearly a personal item of hers.

"Here." The Black Dragon Princess pinched the corner of the handkerchief with two fingers and extended it as if handing over something filthy. "Wipe up, little ranger. Your tears are practically waterlogging my carpet."

This gesture finally made Vereesa raise her head. She blinked her reddened eyes, looking from the handkerchief to Onyxicia with an expression akin to watching a murloc ballet.

"Now," Sylvanas lifted her sister's chin with her fingertips, her voice carrying an unyielding harshness, "tell me what happened in Dalaran."

Vereesa's Adam's apple bobbed. She began to recount how High Elven nobles had resorted to robbing, stealing, and shopping sprees across Dalaran just to acquire arcane crystals. Everyone's jaws dropped to the floor.

"What is Kael'thas doing?" Sylvanas demanded suddenly, her voice as cold as a frozen spring in Eversong Woods.

Vereesa's bitter smile was uglier than crying. "He... he hasn't done anything. He just posted notices prohibiting the sale of that ridiculous arcane gas."

The fire in the hearth flared up suddenly, illuminating everyone's astonished faces.

"There's also a rumor going around Dalaran that His Majesty the Sun King escaped as well," Vereesa clenched her fists. "Anasterias didn't make a public appearance and is probably hiding somewhere trying to treat his mana addiction..."

Dren raised an eyebrow; this was unexpected news. Yet it made sense—after all, the evacuation of Silvermoon City he had orchestrated truly disrupted Arthas's assault. Perhaps the old Sun King had managed to escape with his life after all. Still, having a reigning king hanging over Kael'thas's head made things all the more amusing.

"The arcane gas that appeared in Dalaran last week... it was the kind produced right here, and after being trendy for a while, it got banned..." Vereesa's voice grew softer and softer. "That just made them even more frantic with robbery and theft. The noblewomen are spending even more time shopping; it's practically an open secret by now..."

"What are your plans for the future? Are you going back to Dalaran?" Sylvanas asked her sister.

"No! I'm never going back to that cursed place. I want to stay with my sister." Vereesa hugged her second sister tightly, as though terrified she might be abandoned.

"The Ranger Corps is short of a deputy commander, isn't it?" Dren winked at Jaina.

"Indeed. Lady Sylvanas has a great deal of affairs to manage; assigning her a second-in-command would certainly be appropriate," Jaina immediately played along, silently cursing the pretense of "busy with affairs" when he spent his time harassing Dren.

"Then join the Ranger Corps of Theramore. Vereesa?" Sylvanas asked her sister.

"Mm, okay!" Vereesa sniffed and hurriedly wiped her nose with the handkerchief.

"We can process your oath tomorrow, any objections?" Dren pressed his advantage while the iron was hot, terrified the elven girl might get spooked and run off again.

Vereesa hesitated for a moment, her doubts surfacing—last time, she had felt that swearing allegiance to Theramore meant betraying Quel'thalas.

"Everyone else has sworn the oath, and they're doing fine now. You don't want to be the odd one out, do you?" Dren played the part of a big bad wolf lulling a little girl.

Vereesa glanced at her second sister, who nodded in return. Finally, she lowered her head and whispered, "Fine. I will take the oath."

"Good, good, good. Now that the three of you are reunited, it's a joyous occasion. Something to celebrate, crack a smile." Delighted at recruiting yet another historical figure, Dren grinned and took a smug sip of his tea. The black dragon let out a cold huff, while the bronze dragon rolled her eyes in resignation, wiping away non-existent cold sweat from her brow.

"Live well here in Theramore. As a bonus good news, your eldest sister Alleria is likely still alive. Perhaps the four of you can reunite eventually." Dren's mood was so buoyant he began to get carried away, casually dropping a hint about the eldest Windrunner sister to give them hope of a family reunion.

"Do you have any idea what you're saying? Shut up! Shut up!" Chromie leaped three feet into the air, landing on his chest and trying to cover his leaking mouth.

Sylvanas rushed over to Dren, shoving the little gnome aside with startling strength, and locked eyes with the man, her voice trembling with emotion. "You know news of my eldest sister? Tell me quickly! How is she?"

Before Dren could reply, Onyxicia shoved past him, forcing the Windrunner sister back a step as she stated coldly, "Show some manners. This isn't your Windrunner Spire, and Dren is not your prisoner."

"R-right, I'm sorry! I was just too excited upon hearing the news," Sylvanas apologized solemnly.

"Get me down!" Chromie protested indignantly. Sylvanas hastily released the bronze dragon.

Dusting herself off, Chromie hopped back to the floor and adjusted her clothes. "I can't say anymore. The timeline is already messed up enough."

"Alright, alright, don't be so tense. Just remember my words—everything is going to be fine," Dren drawled leisurely.

Today's revelations were simply too overwhelming, leaving Sylvanas's mind in a whirl. With a younger sister to settle in and much to process, she soon stood up to depart, and Jaina teleported away to handle her own mountain of duties. That left only Dren and the two female dragons in the room.

Onyxicia sneered, "Man, don't you have anything to explain?"

Dren spread his hands, indicating he did not.

"Hmph!" The Black Dragon Princess said with disdain, "Treating two elven sisters with such deep benevolence without an ulterior motive? Who would believe that?"

"Sylvanas was indeed part of my plan, but as for Vereesa, she has her own destined person," Dren explained, winking at Chromie to signal her to rescue him.

Chromie coughed. "Indeed, Dren is right. Sylvanas surviving is good for Azeroth, and Vereesa has her own fated match." Pausing for a second, Chromie pulled at her own hair in frustration. "Only now the timeline is such a complete mess thanks to Dren that it's hard to say if Vereesa will even marry that person anymore."

Dren cringed inwardly: So it's all my fault then!

Onyxicia crossed her arms, staring at her man with a frosty smile.