Chapter 51 Red Hair

The training grounds of Theramore at dawn were still shrouded in a light mist, leaving the distant archery targets somewhat indistinct. Vereesa Windrunner stood behind the white line fifty yards away, her fingertips gently brushing against the grip of her ebony longbow before she swiftly nocked an arrow, drew the string, and took aim.

Whoosh!

The first arrow tore through the air and embedded itself dead center in the bullseye. Immediately following came the second and the third; the fletchings of each arrow grazed the shaft of the preceding one, ultimately blooming into a silvery-white flower upon the target face.

"Brilliant!" praised the other watching rangers. "The Windrunner family's archery truly lives up to its legendary reputation."

The corners of Vereesa's lips curved upward slightly, though she did not halt her movements. She suddenly spun around, drawing her bowstring back like a full moon—

Whoosh!

This arrow drove straight into the nock of the previous one, splitting it cleanly in half. Such divine skill drew gasps of awe from the onlookers.

"Vereesa, prepare to head out on patrol." Sylvanas walked over, directing the rangers to form up and arranging the day's patrol duties. The rangers were growing increasingly accustomed to this lifestyle.

As Theramore continued to expand, more and more races were drawn to settle or trade, while concurrently, illicit activities were on the rise. The elven rangers' patrol duties appeared exceptionally vital; the fully armed squads occasionally appearing in the market made those with ulterior motives think twice before making any rash moves.

"Move out!" Having organized the troop, Vereesa led the detachment away to complete today's patrol mission.

Along the way, many familiar faces greeted her.

A human farmer selling vegetables stood up and tipped his hat to the elven ranger: "Good morning, Miss Vereesa. May the Light bless you!"

Vereesa nodded in acknowledgment.

Nearby, a goblin grinningly produced a batch of cheap glassware and tried to pitch it to her: "Beautiful elven lady, look at these gorgeous beads and sparkling gems. Care to take some back with you?"

Vereesa's face darkened as she coldly reprimanded: "Don't use this junk to test an elf's discernment. If I find out you're swindling people into buying glass beads at inflated prices again, you'd better watch out or you'll be driven out of Theramore."

The goblin hurriedly explained, "No, no. How could I ever swindle people? It's all completely consensual. Nobody's being fooled."

"Hmph!" Vereesa ignored him. She knew goblin business; it was all about fooling clueless Horde saps. She held no favorable view of Horde orcs either, so as long as no one filed a complaint at the city hall, she had no intention of dealing with the goblin.

She watched as two Horde peons came running over, pulling out a large handful of copper coins earned from odd jobs to pick out a pile of sparkling glass gems from the goblin, skillfully bargaining before departing in high spirits.

The goblin waved his money pouch and happily declared, "See? Nobody's swindled, it's all mutual. They buy the stock from me, take it back to their homeland, and resell it at a high price to make a profit. Adults and kids alike love it!"

Vereesa pressed a hand to her forehead, at a loss for words regarding the matter. She simply turned and walked away, leaving this ignorant crowd behind.

At noon, at the harbor guard tower, Vereesa was required to lead her detail on duty for the afternoon. The guard tower faced the harbor directly, offering a superb field of vision that clearly captured the coming and going of ships and the crowds of cargo handlers.

A Kul Tiran cargo ship pulled into port, and a group of high elves disembarked, carrying their luggage with a dazed expression as they walked toward the shore. Vereesa gave a brief word to the sentry on duty and took two rangers with her to welcome the newly arrived kin.

"Greetings, elven kin, and welcome to Theramore." Vereesa stepped forward to intercept the dozen or so elves who were looking around in bewilderment.

"Hello, respected ranger." An elderly elf leading the group recognized the Windrunner attire, and upon seeing fellow high elves, they were overjoyed. He introduced themselves: "We hail from a village on the edge of the Singing Forest. When the Scourge struck, we escaped by riding tallstriders, but after managing to circle around the Hinterlands to Dalaran, aside from the craftsmen who were recruited, those of us who only knew how to farm had a very difficult time. We heard there was an elven settlement in Theramore, so we took a boat to try our luck. It's truly wonderful to meet our own people! Please take care of us!"

"Rest assured, if you know how to farm, you can be allotted land for free. Right out by the marshes at the edge of the city, land reclamation is underway there. Some of our kin have already made their homes there." With that, she gestured for a ranger to escort them to the city hall for registration and settlement.

These newly arrived elves ranged in age from the young to the elderly, presumably originating from the same village. As they passed by Vereesa, they repeatedly expressed their gratitude. Vereesa waved back in acknowledgment, offering words of comfort.

As these elves walked into the distance, Vereesa felt that her choice had been correct. Here in Theramore, she could help even more of her fleeing elven brethren.

Just as she was about to return to her post, a bustling stream of people continuously poured off the ship and flowed past her.

"Vereesa?"

A slightly hesitant male voice came from behind.

Time seemed to freeze instantly. Vereesa's footsteps abruptly locked up. She slowly raised her head, somewhat in disbelief as she saw a human mage with unkempt red hair standing in the crowd behind her—his robes wrinkled like a dishcloth.

"Rhonin?" Her voice caught in her throat.

The crowded throng around them, noticing an elven ranger standing there, tacitly parted to both sides, leaving a weirdly quiet space between the two. Rhonin's left foot tripped over the hem of his right robe, nearly causing him to face-plant flat on the ground.

"You... you cut your hair?" That was the first sentence he managed to squeeze out.

Vereesa subconsciously touched the short hair behind her ears—she had cut it for easier training after arriving in Theramore. Compared to her waist-length hair back in Dalaran, it could now barely be tied into a small ponytail.

"You're... even messier," she dryly retorted, her gaze sweeping across the suspicious green stain on the mage's robe sleeve. "Is that a fel potion or your vegetable soup from breakfast?"

Rhonin's face instantly flushed redder than his hair. He flailed about in a panic, attempting to use a cleansing spell, only to spread the stain into an even larger blotch.

"What are you DOING in Theramore?" Vereesa asked as she walked closer, dragging out the last few words.

"Oh, I'm here to purchase magical ores," Rhonin said, uttering something even he didn't believe.

"Wonderful. How many days can you stay in Theramore?" Vereesa didn't care about Rhonin's bizarre excuse regarding ore procurement.

With a wry face, Rhonin replied, "A week, I suppose. Dalaran only reimburses a week's travel expenses. They wouldn't even give me a teleportation crystal, forcing me to take a boat."

"Follow me." Vereesa suddenly grabbed Rhonin by the cuff (carefully avoiding the stained area). "I'll give you a tour of Theramore. I know my way around here."

Rhonin stumbled along as he was hauled forward. "Wait! My luggage is still—"

"Grubiz!" Vereesa called out to a goblin merchant stationed near the dock. "Deliver the mage's luggage to the ranger quarters. Your reward is... well, you know, there'll be inspections!"

The goblin's eyes instantly lit up like gold coins: "Deal!"

Rhonin was dragged through the bustling market, Vereesa's hand never once letting go. He stared at their touching sleeves, suddenly noticing a thin scar on the inside of her wrist—one left behind during their shared adventures in Grim Batol.

"Vereesa..." he asked softly, "how are you... holding up?"

The ranger's footsteps paused imperceptibly. She cheerfully said, "Great, I'm doing very well here, patrolling the market and harbor every day. I'll skip work for a bit today to accompany you."

The two quickly vanished into the bustling crowds of Theramore.

By dusk, Sylvanas walked into Dren's house once more. Removing her exterior armor, she sat straight down at the dining table. Skillfully picking up a bowl—along with the wooden chopsticks crafted by Dren—she ladled herself some soup, paired it with roast fish and braised chicken chunks, and ate entirely on her own accord.

Onyxia cast a dissatisfied glance at Dren. This female elf dropped by to freeload meals every now and then, yet Dren showed no signs of annoyance, leaving Onyxia with no good excuse to chase her away.

"Today Vereesa picked someone up and brought them back to the ranger quarters. They looked very familiar and quite close. She claimed herself that it was a mage she used to adventure with," Sylvanas said while eating, bringing up her sister's affairs.

Hearing this, Dren put down his bowl, pondered for a moment, and tentatively asked, "A Dalaran mage?"

"Mmhmm!" Sylvanas swallowed a mouthful of thick soup, emitting a sound of satisfaction.

"Red hair?" Dren asked again.

"Right, goes by the name Rhonin!"

Dren nodded knowingly at Onyxia. The latter, however, wore a deep frown. A Dalaran mage suddenly showing up, making private contact with a high elf ranger without reporting it to Jaina—she sensed the faint scent of a conspiracy in this matter.

"Is there a problem?" Sylvanas asked, puzzled by the black dragon's expression.

"Haven't quite a few spies been caught recently, trying to sneak into Theramore to get the formula for arcane gas? I'm wondering if this mage from Dalaran has the exact same objective," the black dragon princess speculated.

Sylvanas paused, pondering for a moment before her expression turned heavy. "I reckon that's precisely it. Should we lock him up and interrogate him first?"

"Don't, that's your future brother-in-law." Chromie suddenly materialized beside the dining table, pulling up a child's-sized chair that happened to reach table height. With a spell, she ladled herself a bowl of soup, while other dishes automatically floated onto the plate before her. Only then did she continue speaking, "That's Rhonin the mage, and he knows Jaina as well. He teamed up with Vereesa in the past to rescue Alexstrasza. They'll even get married in the future."

The amount of information was simply too massive; Sylvanas was stunned dumb. After recovering for a moment, she slammed her hand on the table and stood up, furious. "I object! I absolutely will not consent to the two of them being together. With me around, I won't let that scoundrel trick my little sister."

Dren scratched his head. It seemed the bronze dragon had grown entirely numb, casually spilling secrets of the timeline. He voiced his own doubt: "Chromie, I'm curious too. How on earth did those two end up getting married? I only knew they went through the adventure in Grim Batol together. Next thing you know, they suddenly have two kids."

The little gnome picked up her bowl, took a sip of soup, patted her belly contentedly, and finally spoke. "In light of Dren's delicious thick soup, I'll be merciful and tell you. But this matter involves this elf right here—are you sure you want me to talk about it?" Her small finger pointed at Sylvanas.

The Ranger General gazed straight into Chromie's eyes and softly replied, "I've thought about it long ago. If not for Dren's rescue, I most likely would have perished in Silvermoon long ago. Since he has already altered my fate, Vereesa's path doesn't necessarily have to follow its original course."

Chromie smiled and nodded. "That's right. In the original timeline, Silvermoon fell, and when you sent Vereesa out to seek reinforcements, she was surrounded by the Scourge. She barely managed to escape and reached Dalaran. But Silvermoon and you were already gone, while Kael'thas did nothing whatsoever. Vereesa begged the prince to lead the surviving people in rebuilding Quel'Thalas, but the prince claimed he was powerless to help."

"Just as she was in despair, Vereesa met Rhonin in Dalaran, who was similarly ostracized. Because the two shared past adventures and found themselves in the same helpless, rootless state, they frequently spent time together. As a result, that bunch of idiots in Dalaran noticed and got disgruntled—why should some loser mage have an elven babe keeping him company? So they assigned some absurd, suicidal mission to Rhonin to get him killed off."

"Vereesa couldn't bear to let Rhonin go, and she was completely adrift in Dalaran anyway. So she tagged along on his mission and adventure, causing their romance to heat up rapidly. By the time Dalaran's fools managed to kill themselves off, Rhonin somehow ended up a bigshot, and the surviving Windrunner family had only Vereesa left as a leader. Thus, the two tied the knot not long after, which could also be considered a sort of political marriage between two surviving factions."

Listening to all this, Sylvanas silently nodded. "If that were the case, my little sister likely would have grown fond of this man. But the situation is different now. Dalaran might well have sent him here to steal the arcane gas formula. He harbors ill intentions toward Theramore. Moreover, the importance of arcane gas to our high elven brethren goes without saying. Dalaran's goal is also to control the elven craftsmen in their hands."

She paused, making a throat-slitting motion. "Should I just go take care of this trouble tonight and toss him into the swamp as fertilizer? I can easily find an excuse to smooth things over with my little sister. Will you guys keep my secret?"

Onyxia looked intrigued upon hearing this. Dren hurriedly stood up to interrupt the beginning of the Dark Lady's descent into darkness:

"No, no, there's no need to be so drastic. If this comes to light afterward, how will you two remain sisters? Besides, this Rhonin coming to Theramore to steal the formula might not even be his own idea. It's far more likely that Dalaran wanted the formula yet didn't want to offend Jaina, so they simply dumped an unpopular, ostracized mage onto a mission bound to make enemies. If he succeeds, the formula belongs to Dalaran; if he fails, they can shove this scapegoat forward to take the blame. Who didn't look at that last mission in Grim Batol and think it was a suicide run? If he hadn't gotten lucky and stumbled through a series of coincidences, he would have made it, but otherwise, the grass over his grave would have grown lush by now."

"So we're just going to let him wander around Theramore?" Sylvanas was still displeased.

"Have Vereesa take him out to sightsee more often, and just make sure not to bring up the arcane gas. When his time is up, he'll leave on his own." Dren actually wanted to help facilitate this pairing of the male mage and female elf from the original history. Onyxia looked thoughtful and remained silent.

"Still pisses me off. This man clearly wants to trick my little sister into stealing the formula," Sylvanas slammed the table in frustration.

"Why don't you go find Jaina and arrange for some official department to host him instead? After all, he's a representative from Dalaran, and treating him with grand hospitality in Theramore is only proper. That way, he'll realize the difficulty and back off," Dren offered his final piece of advice.

"Fine. And I'll keep a close eye on my little sister too, so that scoundrel of a mage doesn't steal her heart," Sylvanas said through gritted teeth, while various plans flashed through her mind. Which one should she pick?

Across town, a certain mage suddenly felt a chill run down his spine.

Vereesa asked with concern, "What's wrong, Rhonin? Are you feeling unwell?"

"N-no, I'm fine." Rhonin certainly wouldn't dare admit he suspected his constitution was slipping; otherwise, why else would he suddenly feel so cold?