Might & Magic
Author: LiangFeng
Disclaimer: Borrowed uses of names from Blizzard and Dragonlance.
Setting: AU. This takes place in MY universe! Not that Joss “Asshole” Whedon’s!
Rating: PG-13?
Pairing: W/T and B/F if it gets that far.
Spoilers: Nup!
Excerpt from Astinus’ Journal in the Libraries of Palanthas
It has been many years since the war between the elves and humans ended. 15 longs years. Since then, an uneasy peace has settled over Kranin. The war drums haven’t sounded a beat. Now the humans have grown haughty in their victories, the elves of Qualinost have assumed new leaders. The Qualinost have rallied all elven nations to their sides: the Silvanseti, and the Qualiseti. Humans, as dull and thick-headed as they were accused the elves of massing forces against the humans, breaking the treaty. The elves fought back and now I fear it will escalate into something terrible…again.
The drums of war fill the air once more. Blood spills on the plains of Istar and soaks into the roots of the trees of Distali Forest. The war is terrible, more so than the one before. We deserve it for ignoring the prophecies. But there is also another prophecy, fortold by the human mages of long ago. Of a human and an elf that will bring peace. Lasting peace. Such sweet words for these old ears. But then, it will be a long while before I can hear them spoken out loud.
Chapter One:The Gift
Buffy Summers, weary from her travels, sat down on a boulder that stood out from the dry grass of the plains like a sore thumb. She tossed her sword, bow, and a quiver of arrows down and stretched herself out. It had been hours patrolling along the borders of Solace for any sign of elven activity. Nothing.
She looked over at her friend, Xander Harris, who had just managed to catch up to her. “Hey, how you doing?”
“How does it look like I’m doing?” Xander managed to breathe out, panting heavily.
Buffy chuckled, smiling at her life-long friend. “Here.” She tossed him a flask of water.
Xander caught it deftly, and managed to gulp down ninety percent of the contents before tossing it back to Buffy.
“Gee…” Buffy cocked an eyebrow at the almost-empty flask. “Thanks.”
“Sorry.” Xander shrugged.
Reaching into her haversack, she drew out a loaf of bread and a slice of smoked beef. “How about lunch?” She broke off half of the bread and handed it to Xander before drawing her dagger and slicing up the beef. They sat in silence, each enjoying their meal and the beautiful day over the Plains of Istar. There wasn’t a cload in the sky, and the knee-high grass swayed this way and that as the wind commanded, it was truly a magnificent day on the Solace borders.
“I don’t know why they have us patrolling.” Buffy frowned. “No elf force would be that stupid to waste troops on a small town that’s no where near the capital. You know, we should be out there with the Draenor Army! Fighting the real fight you know?”
Xander nodded his agreement as Buffy sighed, realizing that will never happen. She gradually turned her thoughts elsewhere. “I wonder how Will’s doing.”
“Yeah, being in the Tower of Ashenvale! Wow, what I wouldn’t give to see that…”
“You can’t…unless you’re magically gifted.” Buffy smirked.
“Yeahyeah, I know. Magi School and all. But wouldn’t it be great if we could see it?”
“You can’t Xander. The tower hides itself, unless you’re magi, you can’t see it. Geez, give up already.” Buffy sighed. When will Xander ever give up. Sure it was always his dream to be a mage, a magic user, it turned out in the end it was his sister who would be chosen to travel to one of the towers of magic to apprentice in the art. Poor Xander was so disappointed, but then again so proud it was Willow who would be honored by the gift. To humans, magic in their kind was a rare thing. Unlike the elves who commonly used magic in their everyday life, magic just didn’t naturally flow in the human blood. But, those rare human mages were also incredibly powerful. Sometimes even more so than their more experienced elven teachers.
Willow had suspected elf blood somewhere far up in their family tree. Probably a great grand-parent, before the first war on the Elven Nations. Otherwise how could you explain Willow’s abilities? Not so easily if Willow was the first in her family to have the gift, that was even more rare. Possibly increasing Willow’s chances of becoming a powerful sorceress.
When she had received a letter from the Council of Magi, explaining her magical abilities, they gave her a chance to study among the most skilled of magicians. “Choose your school” they had said. “But choose wisely, for that is where you shall take your Test, if you choose, when you finish your apprenticeship. The Test was a greatly feared subject among the students of magic. It was demanding, harsh, and unforgiving. Given to students of the Towers, if one shall pass, they are given the title of a true Mage, and graduate with high honors. Most do not make it out without serious injury, half die in the process. The Test was designed to separate the strong from the weak. But not only in magic skills, but also in the mind, heart, and body. If one were to be the best student in the Tower, the strongest of them all, but then had a flaw in their being, they will most certainly die in the Test. Magic was a thing for only the most talented, strong, and good-minded of people. The otherwise had to be rooted out and destroyed. The gift shall only pass on in the good intended. Who knows what could happen if the most powerful of arts were to fall into the wrong hands.
Willow had chosen the Tower of Ashenvale, the tower of the elves, over the Tower of Azeroth, the tower of barbarians, and necromancers. The barbarians and necromancers were all human…sort of. Part human and part something else. Barbarians clamed to have dragon ancestors, while the necromancers claimed to be part griffon. Which would explain why they could channel magic so easily, but dragons haven’t been seen on the face of Kranin for thousands of years and the only beings who had contacts with griffons were the elves.
Xander and Buffy protested furiously at Willow’s choice. She would be entering enemy territory, but once Willow’s mind was set, you had a better chance of moving a mountain than changing her mind. Besides, the elves wouldn’t harm a hair on her head. It didn’t matter who you were, human, elf, or ogre. If you were there to study magic, the teachers would treat a non-elven just the same as the elven students. United by magic, the mages held a deep respect for each other including the apprentices, ignoring the Human Elven Wars. Anyone showing even a tinge of racism was expelled from the towers. Which was good partly for Willow.
So Willow was allowed access into the school. But there was another thing looming ahead for the young witch. The Test. Elven magic was considerable more powerful than the barbarians’ or the necromancers’. But many have avoided the Tower of Ashenvale because non-elvens were not meant to channel elven magic. So many thought as they entered the opposite tower.
So Willow would be the first human to ever take on the Elven Test, if she chose. As powerful as elf magics were, than the half-human’s, so was their Test. Ashenvale’s Test was said to be twice as hard as Azeroth’s. Over ¾ of Ashenvale’s students failed and were killed. And these were elves, what are the chances for a human?
“I wonder what Will’s doing…” Buffy said again.
Willow flipped through her book, studying the incantation for her fire spell. Her quiz on summoning the four elements was next week and she could barely get her water spell down. Fire was considerably harder to control since it burned and consumed everything in its reach. Earth wasn’t that bad; she just had to mold it into the shape she wanted and that’s it! Air was unpredictable, coming in anytime it wanted to, just like fire.
Absently, she picked at her red robes of neutrality. All students were to pick which side of the magical spectrum they would learn. White magic, black magic, or study both in balance. They were given robes corresponding to the subjects they were learning. White for white, black for black, red for neutrality. The Tower of Ashenvale was all composed of white with Willow the only red. It was forbidden for any elf to learn the black magics. To break this law was to banish yourself from society and your homeland.
So Willow had found herself without a teacher, as there was no elf in Ashenvale who knew the dark arts. They had to call in another mage from Azeroth Tower, an necromancer named Dalamar, to teach her the black arts while a regular instructor taught her white. What struck Willow was that Dalamar was elvish. He was banished from his home of Silvaseti as he took up the black robes. Dalamar was branded a Dark Elf. He went to the Tower of Azeroth and there he studied under the most infamous of Necromancers, Raistlin, before the Mage Council decided to admit Dalamar to learn elvish black magic and he was allowed entry to Ashenvale to revitalize the dead art of Elvish Black.
She closed her book and looked around the library. It was nearly empty except her and an elven girl who sat in the far corner reading a spell book bound in blue and silver. But then again, they were all elven. Tarathalas, Willow thought. Yeah that’s her name. Top in the class too.
The redhead wondered idly if she would bother helping her with her spellwork. Tarathalas was already summoning elementals rather than mere elements. She was obviously Silvanseti. The markings she bore on her face clearly read Night Elf. Two deep blue stripes across her cheek and down her neck, pronouncing her from her Qualinost cousins, of red, and the Qualiseti of green. Each elf was tattooed on their thirteenth birthday, their design corresponding to their nation and their clan.
Willow got up and walked over to the girl, her boots hitting the stone floor rhythmically. The elf, sensing her presence immediately, looked up with nervous eyes.
“Hi!” Willow greeted cheerily.
“H-Hi.” Tarathalas looked down hastily, her long blonde hair covering her eyes. “D-Do you w-want me to m-move?”
“What? Move? Oh no!” Willow shook her head, and chuckled uneasily. “Tarathalas, right?”
The Silvaseti nodded, still awfully interested in her lap. “Y-You can call me T-Tara. It’s my h-human n-n-name.”
That piqued Willow’s interest. “You have a human name?”
“I h-have a human u-uncle. He gave it to m-me.”
“Oh, well um. I was wondering if you could help me with my element summoning. Quiz next week you know.” Willow asked. Cleary she wasn’t the only nervous one in the conversation.
“Oh! Y-yeah, I can do that. W-When?”
“Uh, how about after the courtyard, after dinner?”
“S-Sure.”
Willow smiled and nodded. “Ok then. Bye!” She waved and ran out of the library’s double doors, grabbing her book on the way, thinking ‘Alright! I got a study date with the hottest-Wait, what am I saying?!’
She screeched to a halt in the middle of the school corridor. ‘Am I gay? No way I can be…what about Oz?”
Oz, a barbarian of the Malidor Tribe that inhabited the Plains of Istar, who came to visit her in Solace every once in a while. His hard muscular body, his lips on hers…Tara’s soft curves. NO! No no no! Think Oz! Yes, Oz… His short spiky hair, his strong arms and chest…Tara’s yummy chest. Argh! Nono! Wrong! Wrong!
Willow slammed her book into her forehead over and over as she climbed the stairs that spiraled up and up, leading into the dormitories. A group of students passing her, on the way down into the main hall, stopped for a moment to stare at the strange human who was in the process of a bizarre ritual of inflicting terrible pain upon herself.
The elves sighed and shook their heads. Humans!
Willow finally made it into the room she resided in. Throwing the book onto her desk, she flopped down on her bed. Grabbing her pillow, she put it against her face and screamed out all her frustration. This is NOT happening! She put the pillow aside and rolled over to stare at the ceiling. Blowing away a lock of hair that had fallen over her face, she wished Buffy were here to straighten things out for her. She could always count on her best friend. “I cannot be in love with a girl. An ELF girl!”
“What’s wrong with us?”
Willow nearly fell off her bed at the voice. She looked over and glared at her roomate who was sitting on her bed studying a book. “Don’t DO THAT!”
Dawlathar shrugged her apologies, but then repeated. “What’s wrong with elf girls?”
“I can’t fall in love with girls that’s what!” Willow replied but then grabbed her head in her hands, as if she were having a migrane. “You’re too young to understand, Dawn.” She used the nickname she gave for her roomate becase frankly, she was never good with elven names.
“I’ll have you know I’m sixteen!” Dawn sniffed. She muttered something in her Silvanseti tongue and went back to reading her book. “Besides, I don’t think it’s wrong…My sister’s like that you know. She’s actually really happy.”
“Really?” Willow squeaked, looking up.
“Yeah, no one really cares. We’re not like you humans who fuss over every little thing.” Dawn said absently, flipping a page over. She scratched at her tatoo that went across her face and looked over at Willow. “Who is it?”
Willow opened her mouth in horror at the question but then became annoyed. “No one.” She rolled over and glared at the wall.
“Riiight. Well if it doesn’t work out, maybe I can hook you up with my sister.”
“Whatever.”
Dawn smiled. Her roomate was so fun to play with, Willow reacted so easily to teasing! Not like that Anyanka person, her previous roomate, who took everything way too seriously.Qualinost elves were way too much like humans.
Looking out the window and into the horizon, Dawn realized they had a few minutes until the dinner bell rang. She reached over to her side of the table and felt around until her fingers came to a rest on a deck of cards Willow had brought from her village. It was a human thing so at first Dawn didn’t know what the heck it was; until Willow had taught her some games and now it was an evening ritual that she and Willow passed the time with a game of cards.
She divided the deck into two piles and started shuffling like Willow had taught her. Willow, hearing the slapping of the cards, got off the bed and went over to Dawn’s.
“Deal.” She said simply, sitting down beside the Silvanseti. She needed to get her mind off this stupid “Tara Business”.
“Poker.” Dawn replied. And starting dealing cards.
Two minutes into the game, the stakes were high. Willow had bet a few steel coins and Dawn two. One piece alone could’ve bought a horse at the market in Draenor. But they didn’t mind, over the months they have grown close and they were practically best friends despite the age difference. They could borrow money from each other whenever.
“Call it.” Dawn said finally.
Willow put down a royal flush, a big fat smile slapped across her face. Dawn blushed and was attempting to hide her cards, but Willow wouldn’t have any of that. She grabbed Dawn’s cards and her eyes widened, then went narrow with fury.
“ROYAL FLUSH?! DAWN!!!” She screamed in anger.
“Wha-at? You think I cheated?” Dawn said innocently, though was swiping the steel coins when she thought Willow wasn’t looking.
“That’s exactly what you did! C’mere you little rogue!”
“AAAAAAAAAAH!!!”
“Now this is the main hall. Where all the students have their meals.” The head mage said to the new students as he showed them around. “As you know, the school, I assume, is a very different environment for most of you. There are some things that will seem very strange-“
As if on cue, Dawn and Willow shot by the head mage and the group of students, Dawn screaming at the top of her lungs.
“AAAAAAAAAAH! SOMEONE HELP ME!!!” Dawn yelled in desperation. Not far behind, Willow was hard on her heels wielding a very threatening looking chamber pot.
“YOU LITTLE THIEF! COME BACK HERE SO I CAN HIT YOU!”
The group stared at the retreating figures as they rounded the corner of the corridor and disappeared, their shrill voices still echoing among the halls. They looked at each other and blinked.
“Um-moving on…”
Tara grabbed her food tray and made her way out to the south courtyard, where she always ate her meals. Always out in the open. Though the mage school was designed by elf hands, to have as little walls as possible, Tara loved the outside just as much as any elf.
The tower was made of pristine milk white crystal, and rather mar the forest landscape, it complemented it. It rose from the forest landscape like a slender spindle reaching for the sky. Designed by elves and crafted dwarves, it looked so delicate that one might think if the wind blew, the tower would crumble. However it was so strong it could hold the weight of an entire army.
She sat herself down on the edge of the water fountain that was nestled in the middle of the gardens. Nibbling on a piece of bread she looked up into the night sky and smiled. How she loved the moon in all its radiant splendor! And the night with it’s blanketing darkness, obscuring the truth with mystery! The Silvanseti were not called the Night Elves for nothing!
She was sipping at her soup when the falcon came. Seeing the flying bird, Tara put down her bowl, wiped a napkin at her lips, before stretching her arm out. The bird obediently landed on her arm and started pecking at her head.
Tara laughed at the falcon’s antics. “Nan pah, Beren!” She said gently in her Silvanseti dialect. “Quesif.” Telling the bird to hold still, she untied the thin paper that was held by flax cord to the bird’s foot.
Setting the bird on one of the branches that hung low over the fountain, she fed it a bit of meat from her stew before sitting down to read her letter.
Dear Tarathalas,
I hope you can read my writing. Giles is trying to make me practice my handwriting. But you know how hard it is to write with your left eye missing. How is your studying? I bet you’re the stop in the school. Am I right? Of course I am. I’m always right. When will you be coming home? We miss you, you know? G-man’s getting twitchy. I guess it’s because you’re not here to stop me from picking on him! Haha! How’s the shrimp? Is she still bugging people as always? We were hoping the studying would make her less…hyperactive. Guess we’re wrong huh? But oh well, we can wish. Write you again soon.
Your friends back home,
Faithasala and G-man
PS. Don’t feed Beren anymore beef! He knows you love to spoil him and is fat enough as it is!
“Oops!” Tara giggled, it sounded like Faith was her usual self of telling her not to be so nice. She went over to the falcon whispered. “It’ll be our little secret…but I do suppose I spoil you.” Rubbing his neck-feathers, she reached into her robe pocket and drew out an already written reply.
Tying the letter to the bird’s foot with the cord, she held her arm out and the falcon climbed on board readily. “Bye, see you later Beren! Queva!” Launching the bird into the sky, it was gone in a gust of wind. Watching as the bird disappeared against the night sky, she turned around to leave, but came face to face with…
“Willow…”
Ok, I’m just posting this to see if this is worth writing. Depends if this is good writing or not. The fate of this fic rests in your hands.
Edited by: LiangFeng at: 8/13/03 10:26 am
I'm enjoying this very much and I hope that you do continue. 
