"Well, yes."

"An' you've got to figure they have -- well, dimensions, aye? That they rip people through?"

Valinar's left ear twitched. "Yes..."

"An' -- now, follow me on this one -- presumably those other dimensions have folks like us in 'em, aye? Or else when we ripped through 'em, we'd just go POOF."

"I'm not so certain about that," Valinar said, but Ovistine was already waving a hand, braids flapping out to her sides.

"So what I'm thinking is: I hook up a dimensional ripper. I use Gnomish technology to pick which dimension. An' I find a dimension where I'm still connected to the Light, an' I use a Dimensional Self-Re-Compactor to squish us together."

Both of Valinar's ears twitched at that. "What exactly is a 'dimensional self-re-compactor'?"

"Oh, that. It's a thing I whipped up to join different whatsits from different dimensions, giving 'em the best of all possible worlds."

"You've tested this?"

"You should see the beer it made," Ovistine said dreamily. "Anywho, so I zap myself through the Dimensional Ripper, an' then you come an' meet me in Everlook, an' we'll see if it took. Sound reasonable?"

Valinar was silent for long enough that Ovistine actually stopped drinking and looked up at him, eyes wide. "Val...?"

"Are you really certain that goblin technology is the answer to your... problem?" Valinar reached out and put his hand on Ovistine's, and she slipped her fingers between his. "You made a worthy sacrifice for all the best of reasons. I know it's difficult, but surely there are answers apart from bringing other dimensions into the equation. What about Uldaman? Ulduar? There are so many things we don't know about dwarves, especially now that we do know about your origins as a race--what about your stoneform? It's always enabled you to heal from diseases, or poisons, or--"

Ovistine pulled her hand away from Valinar's, frowning. "Are you saying... you're not going to be there? When I go?"

"I wish you'd reconsider."

"Oh, aye, the way you 'reconsidered' when you got an axe that sucks people's souls out at the root--"

Valinar shook his head. "We've talked about this. It wasn't like that--"

"It was just like that," Ovistine growled under her breath. "It was--" Her angry mutters slipped into Dwarvish, as they tended to do; Valinar knew plenty to keep up, even with that tone in her voice. "It was just like that, and there you were, week after week, coming out wounded and me not even going through the gates because we didn't think I could help..."

Valinar reached out and took Ovistine's hand again, squeezing her fingers tightly. "It's over now," he said; his Dwarvish still had an accent, but it got her attention. "It's over, and your memories are back for good. We're safe."

"Safe!" Ovistine snorted, but at least she was back to speaking Common again. "Safe with red dragons and Mum still at the tournament grounds snapping at the Horde and--Val, when have we ever been safe enough we could afford to lose a healer? When?"

Valinar shook his head. The fact that she brought Nancie up now seemed very telling; following in her mother's footsteps--and the fact that now she couldn't--was undoubtedly part of all this. Not to mention the fact that Ovistine came by her stubbornness very naturally, not that he'd say so to either one of the Lighthammer women.

"I'll meet you in Everlook," Valinar sighed. "With a few buckets of water."

Ovistine sighed, too. "Thank you."

* * *

It was cold in Everlook despite the season; Valinar was grateful for his Ultrasafe Pocket Warmers and the earwarmers Ovistine had so earnestly knit for him a few winters back. The earwarmers reached halfway to the ground, but better too long than too short, after all.

"I'm ready," he said into the buzzbox. "Are you set up?"

"Aye, I'm here with Donova," Ovistine answered, voice a bit tinny, as usual.

"Nae fears, lad," Donova Snowden said; she sounded downright cheerful. "If she catches fire, I'll dip 'er intae th' hot springs!"

"Very funny," Ovistine said.

"Well, it's why we're out here, eh? Fire safety an' all. Why ye've got t' use goblin crap, I--"

"Ma'am! Please! I'm ready now!"

"Oh, aye, big hurry t' set yerself aflame--"

"I'm not going to catch fire!" Ovistine yelled, and Valinar held the buzzbox at arm's length, wishing he had such confidence. "I'm bloody well invincible! Just be ready when I pop out on the other end, aye? An' three... two... one..."

There was a loud poof, a pair of female screams, and then alarms were going off at the transporter in Everlook; several goblins rushed over to see what was happening. Valinar was shoved away, and as the puffs of smoke billowed out over Everlook, he couldn't help but think to himself: I saw it coming.

Except that as the smoke cleared, he realized that no: no, he really hadn't.

I'm horrified by RealID becoming mandatory on the official forums, where people are often referred by support -- in other words, if we encounter a bug or technical problems, we're required to link our real names to an MMO in a worldwide public forum to get help. It was bad enough that RealID didn't offer the ability to have an official, perhaps difficult-to-change pseudonym, but this is over-the-top. Privacy may be more and more an illusion these days, but that doesn't mean I need to pay money to give it up.

Believe it or not, I am actually less inclined to call and speak to a representative to make this happen -- whenever I've had two accounts and needed to close one of them in the past (credit cards, etc.), the phone representatives have mucked it up. (I once had a support rep inadvertently close my main credit card while supposedly closing one I wasn't using. I gave them my credit card number, of course -- the one I wanted closed, not the other one handled by that banking institution -- but...)

(Incidentally, if anyone has suggestions for what to file this under, I'm all ears. I've been categorizing my complaint under [Support Issues] -> [Terms of Use/EULA disagreement], but is there a better place?)

ETA, from Twitter: What a surprise, the support line for cancelling your account is FULL and they tell me to post on the forums. So even if I called, they'd just... tell me to post on the forums. This is stunningly bad customer service, guys.

ETA 2: From a cached post on Google that has since been removed from the official forums (and why it was removed, I don't know), discovered that part of what breaks the "cancel subscription" page is going over the character limit in the comments box. My 514-character initial comment did not go through, but my 400-character comment did. My second account is now deactivated, and expires 7/29. My next billing date for my primary account is 7/26, by which time I'm really hoping they'll have some response to the public outcry.

Here's what I eventually sent (a shortened version of the above):

It was bad enough that RealID didn't offer the ability to have a pseudonym, but now that the official forums will require use of first and last name, we are required to link our real names to an MMO in a worldwide public forum in order to get tech support/report bugs. This is over-the-top. Privacy may be more and more an illusion these days, but that doesn't mean I need to pay money to give it up.

"Look, ma'am," she said, planting her hands on her hips, "this bit with my head being half-lost to time is all well an' good, but I want my brain back. I want it back how it was."

Chromie tilted her head and looked Ovistine over, head-to-toe. "You are who you were, and who you are now. All of you is still you. What is it you're looking for that you don't have?"

Ovistine rolled her eyes and tossed one braid back over her shoulder. "We talked about this the first time I came to see you, hey? If I'm back then, before the Light went, I can still touch it. So I thought if I did a wee bit of science, I'd be able to bridge the gap between then an' now, an' here I'd be, patched perhaps, but still able to be both."

"You are who you were," Chromie repeated. "You are who you are now."

Wondering if it would really be in poor form to throttle a small gnomish dragon, Ovistine sighed and tried again. "A'right, that's true enough. I am who I was, I am who I am. But I want to be me, who I am now, even when I'm me, doing what I did then. Does that make sense?"

"Not really, no." Chromie shook her head. "The Ovistine Lighthammer of today is who she is. From what you've said, the only way to reconnect yourself to the Light, today, would be to undo what you did to sever that bond. If you were to go back and--"

"No!" Ovistine's braids flapped out behind her as she shook her head. "No, absolutely not. No, no, no. Not an option."

"Well, no," Chromie agreed. "As I was going to say, your decision has had many long-standing repercussions; while it wouldn't destroy all life as we know it the way the Infinite Dragonflight would do, certainly several lives would be affected..."

"Aye," Ovistine murmured, "and that's why it can't be done that way. I understand that. Just..." She sighed again and took a seat next to Chromie, resting her chin on her knees. "I can't keep being two of me. It's hard an' it's confusing an' it isn't fair to someone. To more than one someone." She thought about Valinar--battle-weary these days, taking more and more risks in Icecrown as Arthas's fall came nearer and nearer. Her father, in Icecrown himself, working on siege machinery, repairing all the guns he had time for; her mother, standing on the front lines outside the Citadel, keeping the place clear of Scourge so adventurers could assault the place itself. "I can't help the people I love because none of us can trust my head to stay where it's put. D'you know what it's like to have the people you care about running in to battle without you, knowing you ought to be able to guard them and keep them safe an' being able to do nothing of the sort?"

"Yes, although maybe not today. Maybe I knew how that felt yesterday, or will know how it feels tomorrow." Chromie shrugged. "But it's all the same, isn't it?"

"Aye. More or less." Ovistine nodded. "It's me what needs to be all the same. I need to be me, as I am now, and not Ironhammer along with Lighthammer. Can you help me?"

"Are you certain?"

"Made the choice once," Ovistine said gruffly, scrubbing at her eyes with the heels of her hands. "Could be there's other ways of dealing with it. Bringing in time itself? That's not the way a dwarf works with things. Let's get me fixed, ma'am."

"We can certainly try."

• The Beatles: Rock Band. I would like to say that I remained strong in the face of finding out that the XBox 360 has Gamer Achievements (my characters in WoW aren't achievement-happy, after all!), but that would be a bald-faced lie. I am currently working on "How Could I Dance With Another?" (100% on Expert Bass on "I Saw Her Standing There") and "That's It! You've Got It!" (350-note streak on bass on "Hey Bulldog", which I think will probably need to be done on Expert to even have 350 notes). Still, for having owned the game for less than a week, I think I'm learning pretty fast.
• Starcraft II Beta (only not). I... installed it. But I really play the Warcraft and Starcraft RTS games for the story, not the multiplayer "stomp people's faces in/get your face stomped in" experience -- I pretty much did that to exhaustion in college -- so having discovered that single player mode is not available in the beta, I'm not so sure I want to bother.
• Defense Grid. Defense Grid is made of win and awesome and more win and more awesome. It's a terrific tower defense game, and I'm having a lot of fun with it. Tower defense games are very me -- I like defensive strategy games. (This may have something to do with why I like healer classes in WoW.)
• Portal. I recently played through Portal again. I found it just as much fun the second time through, only I was better at it this time around. That was a nice surprise! Normally I'm not so great at 3d-shooter style games.
• Cogs. I really need to reinstall this. (I recently lost my entire hard drive to a crash, so I'll have to start it over. Groan.) It's like a 3d version of Pipe Dream/The Very Clever Pipe Game, in which you move around sliding pieces of a given puzzle to get steam from one end of a pipe to another (or turn cogs which turn other cogs, or any number of other things). It has a really pretty steampunk theme, and as a bonus, you can get your menus and other information in English or LOLCat.
• The Sims: World Adventures. I can only play The Sims for so long before I feel like I've beaten the game, but the World Adventures expansion was tons of fun. I really enjoyed the puzzle-game-esque nature of the "adventures" you go on in China, France, and Egypt. I'm looking forward to the next expansion, which is coming out next month.

That's about it, I think. I'm still looking over XBox and Wii games to see if there's anything else I'm interested in playing -- if you have puzzle game/strategy game/casual game recommendations for XBox and Wii, I'm all ears.

Teu hummed to herself as she applied her shiny new Gnomish Army Knife to a King's Amber. Valyrie could barely watch; such a nice gem to be cut in such an amateur fashion! On the other hand, lately Teu had been making all sorts of neat things--target dummies (some of which exploded in a terrific burst of color when Valyrie attacked them), explosive sheep, and boxes and boxes full of saronite bombs.

"Do I get some?" Valyrie had asked, only to be met by an indignant puff of air and a five-minute lecture on how bombs are not for inside the house. As if the furniture didn't need replacing anyway!

It had brought a bit of company by, which was also welcome; Teu had mentioned that the tiny braided dwarf was coming over to help Teu put together her new robotic butler, who was apparently going to clean the house for them. Valyrie was entirely in favor of this plan. When the knock came at Teu and Valyrie's door, Valyrie hopped up and went off to answer it.

The braided dwarf looked up, and up, and squinted at Valyrie. "'Ey there, Miss Valyrie. Is Teu ready to get started putting her Jeeves together?"

"The butler? Yes, I think so. She's in the workshop, as usual."

"Thanks! I'll show meself back, don't trouble yourself a titch."

"Of course. Take care, have fun, all that stuff..."

"Will do, aye!"

* * *

Ovistine pulled the titansteel bar out of her pack and placed it carefully on the table. "There! Careful with it; I cast a levitate spell on it so it didn't weigh me down too much, but it's best to wait it out an' have the spell wear off before you start working."

"Oh! Yes, yes, certainly." Teu pushed her goggles up on her forehead. "It has been so much help, you and your expertise! So many thankings!"

Chuckling, Ovistine dug into her pack again. "You're welcome, lass. An' I brought you sommat else."

It was a Construct-Your-Own-Mechanopeep set, one which Teu had cooed over in the tinkering shop the last time she and Ovistine had gone out to shop for materials. She'd let it sit there, saying something about increased fees for outfit maintenance that Ovistine didn't quite catch, but with this plan of hers and Ethel's, Ovistine had seen an opportunity, and she'd gone back to the shop early this afternoon.

Once she'd figured out how to miniaturize the gizmos, the rest had been easy. Adjusting the parts to fit logically into the mechanopeep head had been a challenge, but a very welcome one. The holo-transmitter was even set up to project an image, a voice, or both, out of the mechanopeep's beak.

And, of course, she'd wired up the transmission recorders at home, made out of several databanks she'd recovered from Gnomeregan--she'd always figured they'd come in handy someday. More to the point, she had the data ready to print out on punchcards, so she could hand them over to Ethel if need be.

Of course, all this relied on Teuthida having the mechanopeep out of her packs, and that was something Ovistine couldn't control--but given her enthusiasm for tinkering lately, and the way she could customize the mechanopeep to have sparkles all over it, Ovistine thought the chances were quite good.

The parts for Jeeves she'd brought were just a backup.

It would have taken a far more experienced engineer to figure out what was going on; the Field Repair Bot 74A had been customized, but not in a way that was too terribly obvious. Ovistine encouraged Teuthida to use that bot's parts in Jeeves' head, and Teuthida cheerfully agreed. When Jeeves was finished, and Teu had hopped up to fling triumphant arms and tentacles around Valyrie, it was a matter of mere moments--and a quick flick of a gyromatic micro-adjustor--to get the recording and transmitting units turned on and working.

"Take care," Ovistine told Teuthida. Teu bent down and gave Ovistine an enthusiastic hug, too, and Ovistine squeaked a bit when one of Teu's tentacles brushed across her ear.

"Sorry, sorry! But yes, yes, thank you so much! And for the tiny peep!" She snapped her fingers at the mechanopeep, and it trotted over to her feet. "I will keep him out of harm's way! He can sit upon my totems during battle!"

"Good call, aye," Ovistine said. "Light be with you."

"The Naaru have not forgotten us," Teu said, and Ovistine nearly laughed--so many times she'd heard that phrase, but never in such earnest, at least not from a friend. "And the elements will be at my side as well."

Ovistine had let herself out, and after she hopped into her turbo-charged flying machine, she set the controls to autopilot and put her head in her hands for a moment.

Spying on the elf I--on the elf. It's come to that, has it?

She thought about the axe again, the way the runes had seemed to pulse. The way it had been cold to the touch, the one time she'd brushed against it. It feeds on souls, Valinar had said, and she wondered if he'd really considered what that might mean.

"No," she murmured, pushing the "manual" button again and drawing the flying machine out of its spiraling northward lean. "No, Ethel's right. They need us at their backs."

An' I'll be damned if I let my elf walk in there without some way to know if he's safe. I didn't wait all these years just to lose him to the Lightforsaken Scourge.

Steady again, she headed back to the portals in Shattrath City, more than ready to be home.

Ovinia puts down roots in the Nexus

Ovinia is now 72 and shaking her leaves like nobody's business! While it will take some time for me to put down roots into the resto tree, I'm happy to have branched out this way! Healing as a tree is fun beyond beleaf!

Okay, okay, I'll stop, really.

It's a very different experience from healing as a disc priest (SO MANY BUTTONS OMG) or a resto shammy (everyone stand together in a pile! now chain heal! chain heal like nobody's business!). I haven't actually specced my paladin holy in LK, so I can't speak to that, although I can't help but think it is also very different from tree-healing. ^_^ It's a combination of constantly being on the edge of your seat and getting to relax and think "wow, my HoTs will just keep everyone alive with no problem!" the whole time. I think I was more intent on Grid than I've been in ages, though hopefully I didn't stand in much.

I also got a nice new belt and a quest-reward cloak out of the deal, which was great, too. And I got to flip Grand Magus Telestra the bird, because HAHAHA OVITREE COULD HEAL THROUGH THAT. (Being flung all over the place just isn't a shaman's favorite fight mechanic ever...)

Now that I've inflicted myself on friends (thanks, guys!), I'm tempted to wander through more random dungeons, trying my hand at this tree-healing business. I wish Ovinia had more of an RP backstory, but she is more or less a blank slate. I have a vague idea that her favorite shapeshift form is actually her aquatic form, because she loves the water, and that when not adventuring, she actually lives on (or owns?) a boat near Darkshore (and has been a part of a few different boats' crews over the last several decades), but I have no further ideas yet. Kaldorei RP has a lot of potential, but it's just never been as close to my heart as, er, certain other races. Still, it's time to get over the ancient dwarvish fear of trees, I think! It'll be fun seeing what tree-healing is like in a little more detail. (It may also make me a little less trigger-happy in my raids, so I can stop sniping so many heals out from under our excellent druid healers. Ahem.)

How often do you get impatient for something big to happen for your character? Whether it's a wedding, a breakup, a character revamp, or just having the opportunity to RP with a well-loved but rarely-seen character, there are often circumstances that prevent us from being able to snap our fingers and declare "boom! done!" about something.

When it's a matter of lining schedules up, that can be frustrating. When it's a matter of many plots weaving together properly, that can be challenging.

When you are waiting for Cataclysm to come out so you can race-change your most-logged-in character and have her take over the mantle of the character you still consider your main, it can drive you UP THE DAMN WALL.

In a way, I kind of wonder if the impatience I'm feeling toward getting to play Ovistine full-time again is rubbing off on poor Teuthida. Teuthida's major plotline, I felt, had a lot to do with Kael'Thas -- she and Valyrie originally set off on the mission to retake Tempest Keep, ended up on the Exodar, and after many adventures, took the bastard down. Her real goal at this point has always been to help rebuild Shattrath City and try to help out at the orphanage. But off she trots into Naxxramas... Ulduar... Trial of the Crusader... Icecrown Citadel... not because she wants to, but because I love playing a shaman.

How's she doing now? Well, she's not really enjoying herself in ICC; she comes home smelling terrible, she's not entirely convinced Arthas can be beaten, and she simply doesn't have the same kind of background with the heroes of Azeroth that other people do. (She barely blinks an eyelash at Muradin Bronzebeard, and has yet to figure out why Muradin calling out "By me own beard!" makes several members of her adventuring party raise their boomsticks or steins in a loud /cheer.) Arthas, ultimately, worries her a lot, and she's not so sure her time is best-spent there in ICC, as opposed to being home with Valyrie or going back to Shattrath and trying to make sure a few orphaned Draenei have a really great next few years (even if the next few years are all that's left).

I, on the other hand, pretty much love ICC. The fights are challenging but not impossible, the plot is great, and I'm really excited to see how it all works out for us (PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD NO SPOILERS). I'm really having a good time there, and it's nice to know that there's still so much new content ahead of us.

Mind you, there's an RP reason for Ovistine not to be in Icecrown Citadel right now -- with her memory and abilities as fractured as they are, she knows she can't be trusted to go into the front lines. She doesn't know when her healing abilities will be cut off again -- it could happen at any moment. She doesn't know whether she'll always be able to harness chaos and walk in shadows, or if that's at some risk of going away with the light as well. ICC is really dangerous, and Ovistine's not about to put her friends at risk by asking them to bring along a priest who may or may not be reliable, albeit through no fault of her own.

There's still Ovi's memory to sort out before she can really tackle the other alternative, the one she hasn't even thought about yet -- harnessing healing energies the way the Wildhammers do it. I have a character in play who's intended to be a possible pathway to that end, but I'm leaving my options open -- I don't want to lock myself into one true storyline, since I think improvising Ovi's story has been an awful lot of fun over the past several months. But at some point, I should probably write up a quick bit on Varrim Featherstoneshire (Fanshaw), a former gryphon rider who took a very bad fall and is not even a little bit happy about being grounded for the foreseeable future.

So it was back to Dalaran, first for a soak in the tub to scrub the last bits of soot off herself and out of her braids, and then, hair tucked up in a towel, bundled up in a robe, off to the balcony with a pint in hand, looking over the beer gardens.

She'd expected the memories to stay -- or to come back, at least. She'd had them, she knew it, but they were gone now, something covering them over.

The idea of going back into shadow was a terrifying one--the last thing she needed was to turn into a trogg--but if that was where her memories were, so be it.

She closed her eyes, focused on the clear path she held to the Light, and then dug under it, seeking out its counter. Shadow had always been the wrong word, she'd thought--it wasn't darkness, it was Chaos, all tumbling around and twisting and always, always, drawing her in...

There. Fully engulfed in Chaos, Ovistine kept her eyes closed for a few moments, searching for the way back up. There was nothing above the shadows, nothing past chaos, and while she knew the Light was still there--she'd touched it just moments ago, damn it--she couldn't see it, couldn't feel it.

She swallowed and frowned, resisting an urge to put her arms over her chest and hug herself. It wasn't cold here; it was just hard, so hard being cut off from the Light this way. Coming up from shadows was going to be a leap of faith, when she took it--all about the hope that the Light would still be there when she let the shadows go. And if it isn't? If you change back, and the Light's still gone? What then?

She wasn't going to think about that. Couldn't think about it. Not now. She opened her eyes again, focusing on her memories now--and yes, she remembered. She remembered her mother coming back from the war, the years they'd all spent in Elwynn while Nancie recovered, the way people at the Cathedral would look at her when she came back to see Ovistine--

The paladin who'd taken a rock to the head, the one who'd yelled at Nancie for wearing scarlet. Ovistine shuddered to herself. There were things she'd never asked her mother, questions she'd always left alone, but--no. No, there are other things to think about now. Leave it be. The Third War's over, and she'll tell you when she's ready.

She wouldn't, though. If she hadn't by now, she wouldn't. That was how it was between them--there were things Nancie kept hidden from Ovistine, and things Ovistine wouldn't share with her mum. Plausible deniability, she thought. A goblin's phrase, but probably the right one for this particular topic.

All right. If not her mother, there were certainly other things she needed to sift through. For one...

She sighed and touched her buzzbox, dialing in Valinar's frequency.

"Hello?"

"Val, it's Ovi."

"I'm relieved to hear it--are you well?"

"Aye, an' I'm out of Stormwind for the time being. Val..." She paused to take another sip of her stout. "Are you near Dalaran? I'd like to have a talk with you, if you wouldn't mind."

There was a slight pause from the elf's end of the line, but in the end, he said, "Of course, Ovistine--I'll be there shortly. Where shall I meet you?"

"The beer gardens. I'll order us a wee keg if I get there before you."

"Very well. I'll see you soon."

* * *

Valinar looked much the same as ever, except for one thing--the enormous blue axe he was carrying. It wasn't like Valinar to have an axe on his person in town, either; normally he had a selection of gnomish tools on his belt, and occasionally Ironfoe. The axe was slung across his shoulders, and he propped it carefully against the wall when he took a seat at the table. Ovistine frowned at it.

"That's new," she said. "Looks runeforged, too. Ebon Blade have a hand in it?"

"Yes," Valinar said, eyeing the axe for a moment before turning back to Ovistine. "I'm surprised you recognize the runes."

If he found it surprising that she was in shadowform, too, he didn't say anything about it. Ovistine nodded. "That's my news. While I was in Stormwind, I took to shadows without thinking about it--and when I did, the memories came back."

"That's wonderful--"

"No," Ovistine said quietly. "No, it's not, 'cause that's not all of it. I have them back when I'm in Chaos, but if I step out again, they leave with the shadows. An' while I'm in Chaos, I can't touch the Light--hell, I can't even tell it's there. It looks like all I've done is make things worse."

"It's a start."

"Aye. Well." Ovistine tipped her head to the side, slightly, and looked Valinar over. "I remember our conversation," she said softly. "The me of eight years back had an even harder time talking about these things than I do now, an' that's sayin' sommat." She paused, waiting to see if Valinar had anything to say to that; he was still listening intently, but didn't speak. She nodded and went on. "But the way we left it--I only realized after that we hadn't quite said. So maybe I ought to ask again." She took a drink of her stout, for luck and courage, and met his eyes again. "Valinar--are we dating?"

He paused, too, blinking a few times; finally, the slightest lift to his eyebrows appeared, barely even noticeable unless you were staring right hard in the elf's face, the way Ovistine was doing. He took a small breath, and then said, a little hesitantly, "...yes?"

A broad grin broke across Ovistine's face; she could only hope Valinar could make it out behind the smoke. She'd remember this when she came out of Chaos; she'd kept the memories of fighting, after all. It was only the past she'd lacked, not the present. "Aye," she said, much more firmly. "Muradin's beard! I've been hoping we'd settle that for... a while now."

Not that I know what to do about it, she thought, but we'll work that out later.

"So the axe, there--" Ovistine said, and Valinar glanced at it, too. "Tell me about it, aye? Sommat worrisome enough you didn't want to leave it at home?"

"Yes, exactly," Valinar said, and the story of the axe did not ease her worries in the least.

It was times like this Ovistine wished she had a shield like her mother's. There were so many people, and she could only toss out her Light-focused shields so often--though a great deal more often than eight years ago, that was for certain. Still, a hammer in one hand and a shield in the other--she could see the appeal in that.

Two hands landed on her shoulders, and Ovistine didn't even have time to turn around before someone yelled, "Ovi--disperse!" at her.

And the hell of it was, she knew how.

She and the priest behind her vanished into shadowsmoke, and when the axe cut through both their bodies, she barely even winced at it.

She was busy.

It wasn't a flood of memories, no sudden rush--it was as if she'd had a lock of hair in her field of vision, something that she hadn't even noticed until she'd brushed it away. And now she could see everything: her family, her friends, Valinar--Light damn it, I still don't know what we are to one another--her abilities, the way it felt to be filled up with the Light--

The dispersion wore off, and Ovistine stayed in shadows. She sent a purple line of chaos into the next man to raise a weapon to her, and he fell unconscious along with a group of people clustered around him. It was enough to get the attention of this part of the room, and when Ovistine levitated, braids twirling, they shrank back a step.

"You're done," she growled out. "You want to leave. You want to get out of here and be somewhere safe."

It was enough for the five people still left standing, anyway, and as they pushed their way out, they took others with them. Ovistine spared a glance over her shoulder, grinning back at Aldras Hale. He looked wary--and weary, for that matter--but he also looked, despite himself, impressed.

"Still think my grasp on Chaos is limited, Aldras?"

Hale smirked at her. "I'm glad I was here to remind you how to use it."

"Aye, well--" She drew herself back out of shadow, and--

--and. And she couldn't remember why she was so damned proud of herself for showing off like that; she couldn't remember why Hale, in particular, made her want to prove she could flay minds like nobody's business. She remembered what had just happened, what she'd done here--Muradin's beard, she could scare that many at once?--but not why it had meant so much to her.

Her mother was pushing the rest of the people out of the Cathedral now, though; there was a bit of motion, and Nancie wasn't one to let momentum turn against her. Ovistine shielded her again and pressed in at her mother's back, staff up in guard position. Hammer and shield, she thought, damn, that'd be grand just now.

She'd worry about her memories later.

Ovistine sighed at the loud pounding on her front door. It was a little too easy to guess who the fist belonged to, but she supposed she'd put her mother off long enough. She swung the door open just as Nancie had raised her fist again; the two dwarves blinked at each other for a few seconds.

"Mum," Ovistine said, nodding.

"Lass." Nancie stood back, dropping her hand back to her side and clearing her throat. She didn't look much different, Ovistine thought--no new wrinkles, hair still up in its customary bun to hold it out of the way, still in the same fighting condition she'd been in last Ovistine had seen her. Her armor was a little different, and she wore a red tabard with two white mugs on it, the same sort of tabard Ovistine had seen on the other members of the Boomstick Gang. Ovistine had two such tabards--one red, one black--but hadn't been comfortable putting them on again just yet.

"Were you on your way somewhere?" Ovistine asked. She nodded at Nancie's armor. "Full gear, eh?"

"On me way back frae somewhere," Nancie admitted. "Jes' came frae th' tournament grounds. Still a lot o' folks what needs t' get shite off their backs before they can help Fordring an' company at th' Citadel. Still got a need fer folks t' keep th' peace."

Ovistine blinked at her mother. "An' that's you? Keeping the peace between us and the orcs?"

"Mostly," Nancie grumbled. "But--I didnae come t' talk about me. Wondered how ye were doin'."

"Well..." Ovistine sighed. "No closer to getting my memories back." Nancie winced and nodded. "But I have a little more incentive now, so I'm working on it."

"Aye--aye, that's good. We're all--me an' yer Da an' th' elf--we're all hopin' ye can find a way t' set things right."

"I wondered if I could talk to you about that."

"Which bit?"

"The--well." Ovistine glanced back at her door; nothing inside that wouldn't keep. "Have a walk with me?"

"Aye, o' course."

Some parts of Stormwind were much as Ovistine remembered them--the Dwarven District, for one, where her future self had apparently kept her flat, and the Library, and the Cathedral itself. Other parts were different; she didn't remember so many warships and steam tanks in the harbor, and the Park was full of elves--mostly druids, she'd learned. Agness had taken Ovistine to a knitting night at a bar in the Mage Quarter that Ovistine had no memory of at all, and for all there seemed to be a bit of a break between the shadow-users Agness was a part of and the arcane-types, it was easygoing enough.

As she and Nancie approached the bridge to Cathedral Square, things seemed anything but easy. A crowd was gathering near the courthouse; Nancie tensed and slid her shield off her back, leaving her axe at her side for now.

"What's all this?" Ovistine murmured.

"Dunno." Nancie was moving toward the courthouse, and Ovistine followed. Leave it to her mum to walk into danger every time, not away. Well, damn if Ovistine wasn't keeping up; maybe eight years ago she'd been too young, but Nancie wasn't trying to hold her back this time, and with all the things she'd learned about her powers in the last few weeks, no one could say she wasn't strong enough.

Four guards stood on the courthouse steps; Ovistine glanced at Nancie to see if her mum recognized any of them. "Babes," Nancie muttered. "An' not enough o' 'em, neither..."

There were whispers through the crowd, and Ovistine caught snatches of words that meant nothing to her. Plaguefather. Trial. Uthas...

"Feck," Nancie growled. She glanced at Ovistine. "Lass--this could be bad."

"Who's Uthas? Do I know him?"

Nancie's frown deepened. "Aye. Ye've traveled with 'im once or twice."

"Did he do what they're saying?"

"I used t' ask ye that. Ye never said." Nancie growled low under her breath. "Never understood why ye went workin' wi' th' so-called Ebon Blade, neither, but ye're me daughter. I stand by ye."

"I'm standing by you now," Ovistine said. She set her shoulders and lifted her chin. "If there's trouble, you'll have the Light backing your shield."

"Always do," Nancie said with a grin, but she grimaced at Ovistine's look of determination. "There's nowt I can say t' get ye t' go back home, is there?"

"Not a thing."

"A'right. Ye keep close, then."

"Aye, Mum."

Two men came out of the courthouse, and Nancie tensed all over again. "Feck." Her hand was on her axe now, and Ovistine heard her whispering out a prayer for strength, for the Light to shield her. Ovistine frowned. If it was just the two of them, then this Uthas was likely being released, and if he was innocent, why was her mother getting charged up for battle?

The crowd was sensing it too, now, and Ovistine forced herself to focus. The calm center of her was easier to find these days, as if years of discipline and training were as much a part of her as her braids, something that even eight years of memory loss couldn't steal from her. She was glad for that now.

The pardon was read, and as soon as Nancie heard In the name of King Varian Wrynn and Stormwind, so it is judged, she nodded. Ovistine had heard a lot of things about King Wrynn lately, but so far as her mother was concerned, it was clear that Wrynn had earned even deeper fealty in these last eight years--Wrynn's name was enough to seal a matter for Nancie, no matter what it might be.

The rest of the crowd was not so readily eased.

The first rocks flew and hit nothing, but by the time they'd landed, there were others. People were shouting, pushing, throwing anything they could get their hands on. Ovistine put up shields as quickly as she could, blocking people off from one another, protecting the innocent if she was able, but there were so many, so much anger, so many curses and shouts.

There was a crash of glass, and Ovistine whipped her head around to see what had happened. She could smell it before she saw it--smoke, and if there was smoke, then--

"Mum--Mum! There's fire--"

But looking around, she was beginning to see more than just that first plume of smoke. Her eyes went wide; riots, fire--Makers, what had Stormwind turned into while she'd been gone?

The grip on her braids jerked her out of her thoughts, and she sent a burst of holy magic into whoever it might have been--but it didn't shake the grip loose. She yelled as she got hauled off her feet, out of the crowd, and when she finally managed to get free and turn around, she glared at her mother. "I was helping--"

"Aye, an' we'll help a damn sight more if we get t' higher ground--"

Another crash of glass, but this time louder; Ovistine and Nancie both looked toward the Cathedral. One of the front windows had been smashed in, and Ovistine gasped out loud. Before Nancie could stop her, she was off and running, and Nancie could do nothing but keep up.

"Lass, no--"

"They're my friends--they'll be trapped--"

"Son of a fecking trogg--"

Up the stairs, then, past the crowd, Nancie's shield shoving through people and pushing them aside. The inside of the Cathedral blazed with light, mostly of the holy variety, but there were torches here, too, torches and furious people holding them. The paladins had already gathered into clusters, protecting the priests and--God help them all, the wee ones, the altar boys and girls were being guarded, too, the mob being too mindless by now to notice if children were getting caught in this. Ovistine rushed over to a group of paladins that were beginning to look overwhelmed, and Nancie joined her.

The lead paladin--someone Ovistine didn't recognize, damn it--swung her shield around, facing Nancie. "You," she snarled. "Come to help the rioters?"

"Ye want t' yell at me or ye want t' help people?" Nancie shot back.

"Still wearing red, Lighthammer? The more things change--"

"Shut yer feckin' trap and--"

The rock came in too high for Ovistine to see where it'd come from, and the lead paladin hadn't managed to get her helm on yet; the rock took her in the side of the head, and she went down. The torches were coming closer and closer, and Ovistine froze for just a moment as she realized just how many fecking banners and carpets and things you could bloody set on fire there were here--

She got a hand on Nancie's shoulder and squeezed, in spite of the fact that Nancie couldn't feel it through the plate. Her quick prayer for strength and fortitude was a little easier to notice, and Nancie drew herself up, shield at the ready.

"For me love an' me lass," Nancie muttered--Ovistine had never heard her mother's battle prayers before, but she knew what she was hearing all the same, "may th' Makers watch o'er me an' th' Light guide me."

For my parents, for my friends, the ones I know and the ones I don't, Ovistine thought, gathering all her power together and holding it close, holding it at the ready, and for the elf I'll go to when this is all over.

She pushed the first pulses of Light into her mother and prayed.