Sunset Beginnings

Sunset Beginnings tell the story of Belatha Dawnsinger, later Belatha Highflame's life and death in the early years of the Azerothian Union. Losing almost everything during the occupation, she was almost able to rebuild her life and even more with marriage to Lordis and giving birth to Zarenna. Unfortunately for her, the Union saw it fit to destroy her life again, permanently. Zarenna, however lives on towards a new story.

Sunset Beginnings is the first of the Dawnsinger Trilogy, starting with Belatha before following to Zarenna.

Sunset
Bel woke up earlier today, troubled by some thoughts on her past. She pulled the duvet away and turned to look at the still-sleeping Lordis, the man she married, and had a daughter with. He had hair like sunlight, skin like peach and muscles well-toned from his work at the vineyards. The man reminded her of someone else she loved, but was beyond her grasp. Turning to the wardrobe, she took some clothes out, a stylish white shirt and a pair of jeans to wear after her shower.

To try and distract herself from the thoughts, she started the washing machine early, and turned on the television to take note of today’s weather. It would be sunny all day, good for the laundry. After hearing the weather she changed the channel to the morning talk show, and moved to the kitchen. She got out the sauerkraut and sausage from the fridge, and placed them into the frying pan. As the food were heated up, she brought out bread to cut to thin slices.

Lordis yawned as he entered the kitchen. He carried Zarenna on his arm, who was dozing between. Their daughter, who was close to ten-years old took most traits from her mother. She had her cerulean eyes, pale skin tone and midnight hair. Since her birth, Bel has treasured her since.

Bel noticed the two. “Good morning.” She greeted, but her voice was hushed.

Lordis smiled back. “Good morning.” He answered back, but noticed her voice. “Is there something that’s troubling you?”

She shook her head, trying to hide it. “I just didn’t sleep well.” She answered. “I got up early, and decided to wash some clothes earlier.”

Her husband smiled. “Okay.” He replied. “How does the weather look today?” He asked.

Bel remembered the television. “The whole day should be clear.” She replied. “Are you going for a walk with Zarenna?”

Lordis nodded. “I was thinking of that.” He admitted. “I want some time with her outside.”

She thought on the walk. “By afternoon, Melitenia will be coming.” She reminded. “Maybe you can get wine for us, and some snacks to go with tea.”

Her husband nodded in acknowledgement. “I guess Choneida is coming too?” He asked. “Having a friend around for Zarenna is good too.”

Bel finished cooking the breakfast, and brought two large red plates. She placed most of the sausages and the sauerkraut in them, and brought a smaller bowl, also red. With a kitchen knife, she cut a single sausage in bite-sized slices, and placed it with the sauerkraut in the bowl. She brought the plates and the bowl to the table, putting the plates down for herself and her husband and the bowl for her daughter. The bread was at the centre of the table.

As he saw the food was ready, Lordis turned off the television and walked to the table. Zarenna was sat at the table, patiently looking at the breakfast. He looked to see his wife and daughter ready clasping their hands and closing their eyes. “Light guide us to live a life of peace.” He started the prayer. “Let us bring love, let us grant forgiveness, let us sow the seeds of faith. Bestow upon us our daily bread; let us inspire hope, let us spread joy, let us shine the light.” As they got to the end, “Amen.” was whispered by the three before opening their eyes.

Bel passed the slices of bread to the family, while making sure there was enough for herself too. Lordis poured glasses of fruit juice for everyone, and Zarenna waited for the sausage slices to cool down. Taking her daughter’s small fork she blowed at the meat, allowing it to cool enough. Zarenna took a bite of the cooled meat, and smiled at the delicious food.

Lordis noticed how his wife’s expression became reserved for a moment. “Sorry, it looks like something’s bothering you.” He interrupted.

She tried to shake it away. “It’s… Nothing.” She hesitated.

He looked with concern. “Bel, we’re family, with a child.” He reminded her. “You have nothing to hide here.”

The words weighed heavily on her, and sighed. “There are some things about my past.” She revealed. “Some things that I’m not proud of.”

Lordis listened to the words. Before she can utter another word in nervousness, he hugged her tight.

Bel felt the warmth from the hug. It reminded her she is with family.

Her husbanded looked. “I think we talk about it in the evening, after Melitenia leaves?” He suggested. “No matter your past, I love you no matter what.”

The words of assurance warmed her. “Thank you.” She replied. “I feel this is something I need to get out of my chest.”

He saw that she calmed down. “I think I’ll cook dinner tonight?” He suggested. “To calm things down.”

She nodded in agreement. “Thank you.” She responded once more.

When they finished their breakfast, Bel saw her husband and daughter leave to spend the morning outdoors. Looking at the sunlights, she remembered to start hanging the clothes that were just washed. She remembered her past as well…

Chapter 1
Magisters hurried to gather what documents they can to the observation grounds. Every man and woman carried what they can find and brought it to the centre of the hall. There were papers stacked, containing government and military secrets.

Bel was among the Magisters that got to their work. She helped empty the shelves, carrying heavy loads with her delicate hands. When she dropped the papers on the pile, a Magister gestured to stay back.

“Torch them!”

Fireballs from mages lightened the white mountain before them, bursting into flames. Bel backed away to return in gathering more paper. As she was going to a shelf, she saw a friend of hers, Melitenia carrying the stacks as well. Her skin was dark as a tree bark, her hair as dark as her own. When it looked like she would collapse, Bel jumped to help her carry. “Melitenia, how many did you carry now?” She asked, as she threw the papers to the bonfire.

The woman tried to think, sitting down to rest. Her olive skin sweated with exhaustion. “I think, I threw over twenty.” She answered roughly as she combed the sweat from her black hair. “I lost count. I was doing it since the morning.”

Bel nodded, understanding that everyone here is working without breaks. Feeling tired, she sat down with her.

About an hour and a half later, another Magister teleported to the room. “Stop now!” He ordered. “We did all we can! The Sporcyist forces have ordered us to report at Sunfury Spire!”

Behind him, a portal to Silvermoon opened. Everyone in the room lined up to enter the portal. Bel and Melitenia joined the line side by side, uncertain of the next things to come.

***

The portal brought them to the Sunfury Spire, behind the castle. The Magisters made one flank, and from a portal from the other side, Farstriders have appeared. At the centre was the Regent Lord, waiting for the Sporcyist commander to arrive.

Bel thought in despair at how they were defeated. She thought such a force was impossible, and the Sin’dorei was supreme over such ragtag militant with an absurd ideology. As she looked around, there were others crying. She looked to find Melitenia despondent, her mind unable to handle the heavy stress.

Minutes later, Sporcyist officers and administrators in mounts rode from the city gates to the Spire. Leading them was an Undead general on a skeletal warhorse. Next to him were an Orc, and a Tauren, on a wolf and kodo respectively. They stopped in front of the Regent-Lord, and the general got off his undead horse. He brought out a set of papers. “You will read this, and sign.” He bluntly instructed.

The Elf nodded reluctantly as he accepted.

''“This declaration requires the attention to all that fight for Quel’thalas. The Horde, has lost all grip on the land. The Warchief would have ordered the continuing of the fight with attrition, but our lack of resources make such actions implausible. Every continuing battle will only cause further suffering for the Sin’dorei. All those that will die from now, die for nothing. In agreement with the Sporcyist Command, I order the immediate cease of all combat operations. Loth’remar Theron, Regent-Lord of Quel’thalas.”''

As he finished, he signed with a quill-pen. “A glass of water, please.” He requested as he passed out. The Tauren that was next to General Croner walked to pick the fainted Elf up, and take him away as a prisoner of war.

The Undead turned to the members of the former government. “As of this moment, the Kingdom of Quel’Thalas is no more.” He spoke to them. “Under the terms of our surrender, Silvermoon has been placed under martial law. You are all ordered to go to your homes, immediately. The signing ceremony shall take place at Three in the afternoon for all those who wish to attend.”

All the former regime members struggled to think of what happened now. Bel also had a heartache from the speech. She turned to see Melitenia almost unresponsive. “Melitenia?” She asked.

The Elf stared away. “I will be heading home now.” She said blankly as she left slowly.

Bel decided to stay to watch the signing ceremony later. She was left with a couple of spare hours. Looking around, she noticed some familiar faces. There was Daedacus and Kroverrus speaking to each other, and remembering how she didn’t see them for a long time, approached them. “What will you be doing now?” She asked them.

Daedacus shook his head. His flame-like hair shook like bonfire in confusion. “We are as lost as you.” He admitted. “Kroverrus and I were discussing that we might not be holding our jobs for long now.”

Kroverrus nodded, as his pale hair matched his skin. “We have to think about the world we will live in now.” He spoke his thoughts.

The red-headed Elf nodded back. “And how is Melitenia?” He asked. “I saw her leave early.”

Bel shrugged. “She is taking it negatively.” She answered. “We all will be losing something.” Noting Daedacus’ tone, she was surprised when she knew Melitenia and him often bickered. They were both from proud families that competed each generation. Both of their parents proudly went to the Outlands with Prince Kael’thas as advisors… Only for them to be killed, and dishonoured for being high ranking officers to the traitor prince. Both of them obviously disagreed, and wanted to prove themselves otherwise.

Kroverrus thought on a pause to the conversation. “Should we have lunch at the inn?” He suggested. “We can’t stay here for too long.”

Everyone nodded in agreement and left.

***

It was now three in the afternoon, where the formal ceremony was to take place. Civilians and former government officials alike lined to watch history taking place. Much to the dismay of Bel, they were on the “wrong side”. The Regent Lord wasn’t signing, it was now left to the Ranger General.

“In the place of the Regent-Lord, I the Ranger General of Silvermoon sign the formal declaration of surrender. With this surrender, all cities, towns and resources of Quel’thalas will go to Sporcyist administration. All armed forces will disband. In place of the government will stand a provisional government.”

Bel looked with worry. She herself felt the need to rest as well. She summoned her Hawkstrider to ride her way back. On the way out of the city, she saw the Silvermoon guards being replaced by Sporcyist guards, and the statues of Kael’thas covered. As she reached the gates, she thought about her future under this system.

When Bel returned home to her retreat in Goldenmist village, it wasn’t triumphant, but those of sadness. She dismissed the Hawkstrider, and took a seat at a cushion in the atrium. In the house her family lived in, it became her solace as the world was changing around her. It had memories of her childhood, paintings of her parents, and ancestors. She remembered how she played around the room thinking of all sorts of games.

Deciding that it is better to think on a bed, she retreated to the second floor. The second floor had one bed for herself. Opposite hanged an azure cloak made of silk. The cloak was a keepsake from a tragic event in her life, left in tattered as some blood stains dried. It was never repaired to remember the day. She quickly slept on the bed, hoping that things will get better for her.

***

A knock at the door awoke Bel the next morning. She wondered if she did sleep longer than usual, noting the birds chirping outside. As the knock got louder, she rushed to grab her gown to cover herself. As she opened, a smiling blonde Elf in a suit stood at the door. “Good morning?” She greeted, confused.

The Elf continued to smile. “Good morning, Miss Dawnsinger, I am Dainda Lightheart.” She replied. “The provisional government of Silvermoon dictates that all private properties must be reviewed and evaluated by the government.”

Bel thought on what she meant, and looked at her house. “My house?” She asked in confusion.

Dainda nodded, keeping her smile. “All of your private property, including your house, mounts, and other possessions that apply.” She emphasised, before producing a form. “In this form, please list your possessions, and submit it to our district office before the end of the week.”

As Bel took the form, the smiling Elf left. Seeing the amount of possessions, it will take a day to review. The first few pages were on the house. That was easy. The house was acquired when she was only a child, through her mother’s long service in the Farstriders. The house was moderate in size, with two floors for public and private affairs. The water source in the house was a single well.

The second section were on the possession of animals. She has a single Hawkstrider: a white one she worked hard to get. Her house isn’t big enough to host farm animals. She has no pets to declare either.

The final pages listed any other properties that she owns, which none applied. It looked like she was done.

In the afternoon, she got out her Hawkstrider to deliver the declaration. At the centre of the village was a maroon coloured tent, where people lined up with their own forms.

Bel joined the line and had a peek at the tent, seeing administrators collecting and reviewing forms. When it became her turn, she passed her forms, which was read, underlined, stamped, and placed with other forms. It looked like she did everything for that day. Maybe she should check on Melitenia.

Bel rode her Hawkstrider to Silvermoon city. The city was more subdued compared to yesterday, as the Sporcyists fully took over. The images of the phoenix were replaced with maroon banners. She looked for the way to the residential ward of the city, where the houses of the noble families should be. Finding the house, she knocked at the door.

It took for a few minutes for Melitenia to respond. She looked unkempt, unable to control her emotions yesterday. “Belatha?” She greeted, unable to make proper eye contact.

Bel nodded. “Melitenia, I wanted to see if you were alright.” She explained.

Melitenia didn’t reply for a minute. “We’re about to lose everything.” She whispered. “I worked to restore the name of my family. It’s meaningless now.”

Bel entered the house to hug her friend. “I spoke to Daedacus yesterday.” She informed. “He was asking if you were okay. He looked worried for you.”

Melitenia listened with some surprise. “Daedacus?” She asked. “We always bickered. He was actually worried?”

Bel nodded. “Yes.” She replied. “He said he saw how you went home quickly after the surrender ceremony.” She tried to change the mood. “How about lunch?” She suggested.

She tried to smile. “I want to eat some vegetables.” She responded, trying to assure her friend that she is willing to go out at least.

***

Three days passed since submitting the forms, and the provisional government was ready to reply. Bel responded once more when the knocking from the door by Dainda was heard.

Dainda greeted with a smile once more. “Good morning, Miss. Dawnsinger.” She spoke.

Bel tried to hide her disdain for the woman. “Good morning.” She replied.

Dainda brought out the form Bel submitted. “Your properties have been reviewed.” She announced. “For the war effort, your Hawkstrider must be seized In four days time. Please note that we will provide public transportation between Goldenmist village and Silvermoon city.”

She listened, understanding that the white Hawkstrider she had would now be taken away. While she will miss it, if transportation will be provided it shouldn’t be bad.

Dainda continued. “Unfortunately, your house will need to be seized as well.” She added “In compensation, we have an apartment room prepared for you. You have four days to prepare your move.” A set of keys were handed over.

Bel took the keys, and reacted in anger. “This is my home!” She protested. “I lived there as a child with my mother and father! I only just retook it last year! You can’t just say that I can’t live here anymore!”

Dainda continued to smile. “The Union now has the right.” She reminded. “The government has deemed the house to be too big for a single woman like you, and this was from your mother.”

Bel tried to control her emotions. “But what if I eventually have a family?” She argued back.

The smiling Elf ignored her. “Please lodge your grievances to the provisional government.” She simply answered.

Now losing her temper, Bel rudely slammed the door. She turned to see her private quarters. She will have to pack what she can within the day now. Priority would go to storage furniture, clothing and mementos. She will carry appliances afterwards. She looked at how she would be able to carry many things in a go. She prepared travel bags, stuffing clothes and mementos in. She got the azure cape in her room out, folding it neatly before packing it in one of the bags.

When the first bags were packed she placed them on her Hawkstrider, going to Silvermoon. The keys given had the address of her apartment, and she followed accordingly. She opened the door to find it smaller than the atrium she used to live in, but it was better than a shoebox. Getting her clothes out of the bags, she returned to her house to bring the rest of her possessions.

By evening, with sheer will, almost everything was moved. It was the bed, the dining table and several chairs that are unable to be taken ultimately. She was tired, and so was her Hawkstrider. Knowing it would be her last days with her mount, she would need to let it rest. The Hawkstrider, she was only able to buy it months ago with her salary, saving up especially for the rare white. Outside the apartment, she hugged her mount, trying not to cry over how she’ll never see it again.

***

The day finally came to handover everything in her old life. She rode to the maroon tent in the village, seeing others passing their possessions as they were counted. Bel passed the reins of her Hawkstrider, trying to distance her emotions. When she saw Dainda, she threw the keys of her house to her hands. Her smug smile only angered her further. She ran off in rage when everything was handed over, losing the first of her possessions.She ran to the line of others waiting for the wagon to take them back to Silvermoon. It wasn’t going to be easy living under these conditions.

The wagon arrived, a pair of kodos pulling it. Everybody got on, and Bel followed. When it looked like it’s full, the wagon moved to Silvermoon.

Chapter 2
New jobs were being assigned to the former personnel of the Silvermoon regime. The former workforce was now deemed unnecessary for the Sporcyists, who until the whole conquest of the planet is done would place their own people in provisional government. Bel and many others received letters regarding their new jobs, and had to report.

Bel found herself unable to eat breakfast from the stress. She didn’t open her jar of sauerkraut, and just went to work with the linen clothes she rarely wore until now. Her letters instructed her to go to Silvermoon Fineries in the bazaar district. She knew the place, as it was a textile store where she and her mother bought sewing supplies.

Arriving outside the store, Bel examined how the store looked like nothing changed from how she remembered. She gingerly entered, to find others in a similar situation as her. It looked like new workbenches were hastily brought in to fill in the new workers. In front of them was an older Elf with reading glasses. “Good morning everyone.” She greeted. “I’m Velarae Firebinder, and I am the head of this workshop. I understand many of you had different jobs previously, and assigned new ones like here.” She brushed her blonde hair before continuing. “This workshop, Silvermoon Fineries was nationalised by the provisional government. We will be producing clothing under the government from now on, and we will be paid with equality.”

Bel tried not to think in disgust at how the Sporcyists wanted to spite her further.

Velarae looked to see if anyone had questions. “We have multiple roles for our workers here, and to give you all an idea, .” She continued, bringing a yarn of silk. “In our line, the first would be the material review. We receive linen, wool, silk, and many other materials to be spun. Before they can be spun, quality must be reviewed.”

Next to the graded fibres were vats with dyes of multiple colours. “Once the materials are graded, we may dye them before being spun.” With a ladle, she scooped up a bunch of dyed raw linen. Still wet, it was placed with other dyed fibres to dry before use.

Velarae gestured everyone to follow her to the basement. There was a basket of raw linen next to a spinning wheel. “We make the yarn into textiles.” she explained. “The spinning wheel will make the raw fibre to the yarn that we will use.” A freshly spun yarn was brought out to show the result.

Green linen yarns were placed in looms, where strings from each yarn were used to make olive fabrics. “The yarns will be made into fabric with the room.” She continued her explanation. “It is these fabrics, that we will make our garments from.” The last section in the basement showed fabrics rolled to rolls, ready to be transported to work on.

Returning to the first floor, the workbenches had sewing instructions for clothes. “And this will be our workbenches for sewing.” Velarae came close to finishing the tour. “The fabrics woven below will be used. Before lunch break, if anyone has a question please do not hesitate to ask.”

One of the Elves raised her hand. “I see most yarn colours were green.” She started her question. “What exactly are we working on here?”

Velarae looked hesitant, but had to answer. “As the provisional government now owns Silvermoon Fineries, we are now tasked in the production of uniforms.” She explained with reluctance.

Bel turned to hear murmurs around her, but she hid her outrage. Forced to work for the enemy immediately was another salt to the wound for her.

The voices hushed when a familiar smug Elf appeared by the entrance. “Good morning, Mrs. Firebinder.” She greeted pleasantly. “I assume everything is in order?”

Velarae nodded, hiding her disgust. “Yes, everything is in order, Dainda.” She replied. “I just finished my explanation of this workshop.”

Dainda returned a smile. “I believe there are no disruptions?” She questioned pleasantly.

The workshop leader shook her head. “There has been no disruptions.” She reported.

The woman smiled in approval. “The Provisional government would like the manufacturing to start immediately after the afternoon.” She explained. “There are demands for uniforms, bags, and other utilities from fabric. Silvermoon Fineries must be able to provide at exceptional quantity. Have a nice lunch.”

Everyone remained silent until the administrator left. Velarae looked uncomfortably before turning to the workers. “The provisional government has provided us with coupons, which will now be used in obtaining foodstuff from now on.”

***

Bel tried to enjoy the lunch that was given from the coupons. The lunch coupons give her portions of soup, sauerkraut, salted venison and a glass of water for a full meal. As she ate, she heard gossiping from the workers close to her.

“They took my sister’s Hawkstrider.”

“I had to leave my house after I was told it was too big for me.”

The discussions were something that she can relate to. Both happened to her.

“Would the Horde be able to save us?”

“It’s only a matter a time both the Alliance and the Horde would align against the Sporcyists.”

“Hush it! Someone might be listening!”

Bel looked to see if there were anyone that would’ve overheard. Although there were guards, it’s unlikely that they were close enough to hear. She finished her lunch, then returned to the workshop.

***

Bel worked on one of the newer workbenches, placing the sewing instructions on a stand. Each worker had to work on one set, starting from cutting to the sewing of the buttons. While she did fine in the sewing, there were others around her the struggled, as each had to make a single-set, forcing to think of the many tasks involved. The process was slow as a result, and foldings done at the end looked rushed. If she was given such clothes, she would complain as well.

By the end of the day, while many were completed in a rush, the reject rates were high. As the workers were allowed to leave, Bel was among the line of assembled workers. She saw Velarae compare the completed set of clothes, and the rejects piled up. She looked worried at the amount, seeing how the first day turned out. Bel turned the other way, now just wanting to return home and sleep.

It appeared that in the city, the Sporcyists got to work in removing the banners of Quel’thalas into plain maroon. On the road were remains of state symbols, thrown rough from where they used to hang. Most people just passed by, ignoring or quickly tryin to get away. Bel was as upset at the display, but wondered if it was deliberate to show that Quel’thalas was no more. She crouched to see more closely, but felt stares coming from the guards, and decided to just go home.

Chapter 3
On a Saturday morning, Bel received a slip for everyone to attend a lecture by the bazaar. It was to explain and elaborate on Sporcyism. With most of the population knowing nothing about the system, it would be beneficial to explain the system. Being moved around by the government nowadays, Bel thought that the occupation now treats them as cattle.

At the bazaar was a stage built where the auction house used to be. The stage was draped in the trademark maroon, which really became the only colour Bel started to see in her nightmares. Dainda stood on stage with some guards, the next thing in her nightmares. The woman looked at the gathering people, some looking disgruntled. “Good morning!” She greeted warmly.

Nobody looked like in the mood to reply back.

Ignoring the lack of audience participation, she went back to her introduction. “I have been called to educate you all on the wonders of Sporcyism.” She returned. “It seemed that it’s been poorly understood, that I would have to explain what it means.”

A floating black board appeared before her, and she brought out a chalk. “Sporcyism is a system that abolishes the structure of class for communal, and fair ownership.” Dainda started as she wrote.

It seemed to get the attention of some people.

She saw the attraction and continued. “Wealth is distributed evenly, means of production is under collective management, and not in private control.” She wrote further. “Which means everyone is paid the same amount, there is no difference between workers, and owners, and workers are guaranteed protection from privatised exploitation by government control.”

“Sporcyism empowers everyone.” She moved to the next topic. “Every man, and woman in the workplace, worker or owner have the same power. The workplace is democratic, a collective project where everyone has a say.”

There were more gossiping around Bel by the workers.

Dainda saw the momentum bringing in, turned to women with children. “The collectivisation of resources by the government will ensure everyone will get what they need.” She continued. “Each, and everyone here will get their bread, clothes, and house.”

Now it looked like Sporcyism brought on supporters from the mothers, that thought on the well-being of their children.

It looked like former soldiers are also to be remembered here. “In Sporcyism, a society of equality would remove all reasons for war.” She appealed to them. “There will be no struggles for resources, no war on racial hate, no politics that create conflict to send us to graves.”

Much to Bel’s dismay, it looked like more fans were being made the more the spokeswoman spoke.

Dainda saw the growing maroon crowd as minds were eased. “And that will be all for today.” She ended her lecture with a smile. “I hope it makes you appreciate the work you do for the Sporcyist cause.”

With the lecture over, people scattered. Bel looked how some were convinced with Sporcyism. If the Horde do beat the Sporcyists, they would be branded traitors. Why should she care about the ideology? The only thing they did for her was destroy her livelihood. There would be nothing else to do for her today. Just get lunch, and her rations for dinner.

At the cafeteria, she looked at the salted venison that was on her plate. Salted meat was really the only things served recently, for they generally lasted longer.

As Bel looked at the food, she heard someone walk over to sit next to her. She turned to find it was Melitenia. “You were at the lecture too?” She asked.

The tanned-skin Blood Elf nodded. “I saw how it gained ground to some people here.” She remarked.

The lighter-skinned Elf nodded. “And we still had our lands stolen.” She added. “They force us to accept it.”

Melitenia sighed. “Maybe come to my workplace next time?” She suggested. “Try to catch up and stuff.”

Bel nodded. “Sure, where would it be?” She asked. “Our end of work should match. Depending on place, I can get there quick.”

The former astromancer brought a paper to write the details. She drew a map thoroughly of Silvermoon, and outside the city walls. “The vineyards are close to the city gates.” She explained. “I think you know how to get there from the bazaar anyway.”

Bel accepted the map, and studied it carefully. “Okay, so I meet you there after work tomorrow?” She confirmed. “I’ll have no problem getting there.”

Her friend nodded. “Okay.” She answered. “Will see you tomorrow.”

Bel saw her walk away, and privately acknowledged that their friendship hasn’t been taken away by the Sporcyists. She will need those friendships as their occupiers try to break everything in their lives. Finishing her meal, she decided to go home and rest.

Chapter 4
Bel checked the map she was given as she arrived at the vineyards. It looks like the vineyard was famous before being taken over. Fences were freshly painted with white, the storerooms were repaired, and the maroon banner flew above them.

She saw some of the workers in overalls leave for the night. Many of them looked like they work in the fields, checking the sweat and dirt in their uniforms. It looked like the workshop she works in provides the uniform there, recognising the fabric.

Melitenia walked out of one of the offices. She didn’t wear the overalls like the rest, just a plain shirt and a long red skirt. It looked like she isn’t working at the fields, but some office work. She saw Bel by the entrance, and walked to her. “You made it.” She remarked. “I’m actually part of the logistics. Someone needs to get these wines delivered.”

Bel nodded, still slightly surprised that a mage would be reduced to working in this job. “Guess it makes sense.” She replied. “You don’t look like you’ll be able to lift a barrel to a cart.”

The dark-skinned mage sighed. “I can summon elementals for that.” She answered back. “But yeah, I work here now. I just make sure the supplies get sent to the correct places.”

The Elf looked around the plantation. The last time she went to such places were picnics back when her parents were alive. Her mother, who was a ranger urged her to explore the natural world in their homeland. Those were peaceful times, but now she was in another dark time after another.

Her emerald eyes turned to see a worker that was leaving for home. A well-built, tanned Elf with long, blonde hair walked out, dusting off any traces of dirt left. It actually reminded her of Prince Kael’thas, a man she thinks of as a tragic hero.

Melitenia looked at Bel, then turned to the man that just left through the main gate. “You’re looking at Lordis Highflame.” She informed. “He’s not really a mage or something. Just a wine-taster.”

Bel nodded, mesmerised by the man. “Is there some way I can meet him?” She asked.

The dark-skinned Elf sighed. “Anyway, what I wanted to show is not in the vineyard. I wanted to show you something. We’ll be going back to town.”

The two walked back to the city, where the Sporcyist guards kept a watch at the gates. They went into the bazaar. Seeing the district at night reminded Bel of how the survivors of Quel’thalas was brought there. As a girl she was frightened there, holding her mother’s cloak while her father held to her too. Then she was saved by Prince Kael’thas and brought there, and she believed him to become the savior of their race that he never became. With her mind stuck in those memories, her friend grabbed her hand to ensure she followed.

They entered an inn. At the entrance was an unassuming Elf. “We’re closed.” He hissed. “We can only cater to soldiers.” At the entrance were some resting soldiers, sleeping or scrounging like some barbarians.

Melitenia brought her mouth to his ears. “Dawn will come once more.” She whispered.

The male Elf nodded, and seeing the soldiers are distracted, opened a door to the cellar. “Indeed it will.” He answered.

The two women walked and entered, the door closing behind them. There were some staircases below them. Climbing down, they reached a spacious room. There were other disgruntled Elves, with Daedacus and Kroverrus there as well. At the lit end was a speaker, in some garments of a priest. “The Sporcyists have invaded our lands to steal our livelihood!” He proclaimed. “They want to drive us to the ground! Exploit us! Make us like slaves in this occupation!”

The audience clapped in approval. Bel figured it was some speech.

“First, this drunk Orc declared to have found an ideology that will unite us all! This is all false! We were shown that unity has never lasted among all! Humans have betrayed us, the so-called High Elves have actively tried to kill us! We are being placed to death!”

The man’s speech was spoken in a harsh manner. However, there were some nods and approvals from the audience.

“Imagine raising our kids in the occupation! The government will take them away from you to indoctrinate them into their Cult!”

That hit Bel. While she approved the Magisters’ use of brainwash to quell dissent, the Sporcyist ideology was a threat to Quel’thalas.

“I, Zailan Coldstar say that we must make a stand! We will not be slaves! We will not be corpses! We are the Sin’dorei!”

Cheers and claps greeted the speaker as he left, a red-headed female Elf stepped in. “That will be all for today.” She announced. “Please return home safely, the curfew remains within Quel’thalas.”

Everyone started to leave the room, taking the staircase back to the surface again. Bel turned to see who else in the room. Turns out many people she knew are here. Kroverrus was there with a man she had no memory of, but they were leaving.

As Bel looked outside the exit, the Sporcyists were still distracted and ignorant of what goes on below. The speeches gave hope to those that hated their occupiers, and one day wished to see freedom again. She walked back to her apartment alone, ready to get some sleep for in the next day.

Chapter 5
As each day in the workshop passed, Velarae always seemed to look unhappy at the end of day. While the quality of the uniforms improved, the production was slow. The Sporcyists have also set up high quotas that were hard to meet. Bel is doing her best to help, but production continues to lag. Sometimes she had to work overtime, but she also wanted to listen to the speeches of Zailan. She looked at the last set of uniforms she folded, then back to her superior that counted the amount of clothing they made in a day. She knew as a former Magistrix that the process can be improved somehow, but couldn’t figure out how. Unable to think much, she chose to leave for the day.

Leaving the workshop into the bazaar, she looked at how others were leaving for the night like her. From one of the other workshops she saw Daedacus going out, with his clothes stained in oil. She ran to him, hoping to speak to him. “Daedacus.” She greeted. “How was work for you?”

The red-headed Elf shrugged. “Fine, I guess.” He replied. “I make motorbikes. Silvermoon can’t make something big, so we’re stuck with motorbikes.”

Bel nodded. “I make clothes now.” She answered her profession. “At least you get something closer to your job?”

He shrugged again. “I thought mages like you were excellent tailors anyway?” He asked back.

She rolled her eyes. “Sure, sure.” She noted sarcastically. “Since we like our cloth, we may as well know how to make them.”

He shook his head. “Okay, that may have sounded stereotypical.” He admitted. “At least you can.”

She nodded in acknowledgement. “I learned from my mother.” She explained, before moving to the next subject. “Oh yeah, how do you make your machines there?”

Daedacus tried to think of how to explain, but his mind saw it complex to explain. “How about I explain it to you at the canteen.” He offered. “Get a pieces of paper, and I can write it down. It’s better that way than explaining it all through mouth.”

They went to the cafeteria, where Bel listened and watched as Daedacus wrote and explained each process. It was something that made it simple and ensured quality. Because of it, it allowed the workshop to fulfill production quota set by the government. She was impressed.

Daedacus finished his explanation, taking a sip of water. “So, how did it sound to you?” He asked for feedback.

Bel nodded. “Informative.” She responded, but something gave an idea. “Actually, can this be used for something else?”

The engineer thought of it. “Maybe with modifications?” He gave his thoughts. “I don't know how you work, but it can be modified to your taste.

She got another sheet of paper, and began copying with some modifications. What would be motorbike production is replaced with clothes. This could be shown to Velarae the next day. She showed the paper to Daedacus. “I will show this to my supervisor. I think it can help us.”

He looked through it, and found it thorough in detail. He would expect isn't from a mage. He isn't sure if Melitenia can write in such detail, but Bel did. “Show it to her.” He said with an impressed tone. “Maybe it will work.”

Bel’s eyes were beaming with positivity she hasn't felt for a while. Sure it looks like the Sporcyists are on the road to victory with the latest news, but she’ll ensure herself and others will survive.

Daedacus gathered his own papers as he prepared to leave. “Also.” He added. “I was told that I'll be shipped to Ironforge once the city is secured. I won't be seeing you and others for a while. Good luck.”

Bel took her own papers, and parted ways with the engineer. She was now confident that this will help the workshop. She made it back to her apartment block in time, and prepared to sleep for the next day.

***

Bel got out of the house early to try and be one of the first to enter the workshop. She wanted to show it to Velarae quick, and hoped to get it implemented soon. Breakfast was rushed, only leaving her with cheese and bread to eat while she thought of leaving in time.

As she made it to the entrance, Velarae was there too, preparing to open the locked entrance. “Hi Belatha, what got you here early?” She asked.

Panting from all the running, Bel gave her the plans. “I had a brainstorm last night.” She explained. “I got this idea from a friend with the engineers, and I wrote it so we can use it too.” She gasped for air as she held onto the handle of one of the doors.

The manager took it, and went through the page. It was well-written and planned, and just what she needed. “I'll have to read this.” she replied. “This is indeed useful for us.” The door was opened and she went to her desk to read.

Bel beamed, seeing that it got the attention of her supervisor. She hoped that it will be used soon, and help turn the fortune of the workshop. Perhaps it can improve her life too, but the Sporcyists seem to love pushing her to the ground anyway. To prepare for work, Bel went to her work station, and prepared her equipment so she can jump to work quickly.

As she observed every minute, other workers were arriving. As it got closer to the starting hours, everyone arrived. Seeing all present, Velarae walked to the centre of the workshop. “Good morning everyone.” She greeted. “I was given an idea to try to improve our production.” The paper Bel gave was on her hand. “We will divide our structure from a single person making a whole set to a single person specialising in a stage of production.”

Other workers around whispered on the plan. Bel looked nervously, adjusting her collar of her shirt.

Her superior continued to read. “If we give single, and repetitive tasks, we get used to the routine.” She spoke from the notes. “We concentrate our mind into smaller tasks, saving time, and keeping momentum. We should improve from current quota, if this goes well.”

Everyone around the former mage looked skeptical, wondering whether the plan would work.

Velarae brought a chalkboard, already listing names as part of teams. “I already got the team prepared based on what I saw as strengths of people.” She added. “Let’s get to work!”

With mixed enthusiasm, everyone went to their new workplaces accordingly. Bel was doing the stitching complete the clothes. As they tried the method, she noticed the sudden improvement. With cut pieces of fabrics passed on from another worker, she was sewing the arms for the uniforms, sized for Blood Elves. The instructions were simplified, and once she finishes sewing the arm, it is passed on to another worker to sew everything together. She sewed the clothing nimbly with the provided needles and thread,quickly sorting between the complete and incomplete. The system was efficient, and gave her a sense of achievement even if a small matter.

***

The first day did show promising potential. While numbers remained slow, overtime it will improve. The dour look on Velarae was absent as she made the final counts. It looked like the plan will be the ticket to improvement.

As Bel packed her belongs to leave the workshop, her manager noticed. “Thank you for today.” She spoke. “I think we can meet the quota without begging to the government not to move people around.”

The former mage turned the other direction. “I just wanted to improve things.” She responded. “Although I don’t like how I’m here, I felt that I’ll live here on my terms.”

Vylin acknowledged the grievance. “I guess you lost a lot since then.” She noted. “Actually, I owe you big for this. I’ll see what can be done within the system.”

Bel was flattered, but was uncertain of what can be done. “Thank you.” She humbly acknowledged before stepping out of the workshop.

Chapter 6
As months went by the Sporcyists continued to claim victory across Azeroth. Newspapers were printed locally and circulated to ensure the populace of Silvermoon knows. Banshee Queen Sylvanas Windrunner was assassinated with the Alliance blamed, and the remaining Dark Rangers swore allegiance to the Sporcyists to avenge her. Not even the Val’kyr were able to save her from this true death apparently, as her remains were too destroyed.

Bel continued to attend Zailan’s speeches. She and others found solace on the vision of the Quel’thalas returned to greatness that would surpass that before the Third War. Among the attendees she noticed how some became restless. The talks were only a show to them. No action, no resistance was taken.

“...Once the Sporcyists see defeat, there will be a Quel’thalas reborn from the ashes! The Sin’dorei will reign supreme as overlords-”

“Then stop talking and attack!” A voice interrupted.

Zailan froze at the new speaker. “Who told you to speak?!” He yelled back.

Another Elf appeared visibly, though provoking the speaker he was as provoked. “You’re only speaking of fantasies!” He argued. “If you speak of martyrdom, why don’t you act like one!”

Uproar engulfed the room. The red-headed woman rushed to intervene. “Sirs, please refrain from violence.” She urged restraint from both sides. “We’re all against Sporcyism.”

The agitated Elf turned to her. “You, Kealandia, are acting like him!” He lashed. “Maybe you were bribed by the Sporcyists!” He shoved her aside to punch Zailan in the face. When the fist met the cheeks, the room erupted into violence.

Bel and Melitenia ran to a corner to avoid attacks, but the tight space meant that they ploughed in. The room devolved from a secret meeting into an underground fight pit. “This is some-” Bel tried to speak.

“CIVILISED INSANITY!” Someone in the distant corner bursted out. Shortly after, a strong punch was heard.

From the brawling crowd, Kroverrus appeared with a few bruises with the man Bel saw before. “Let’s get out of here.” He advised, before turn to the man. “He’s Noraeus, co-worker of mine as a guard. Let’s get out!”

With no formal introduction, they grouped to get out. Bel noticed another woman with white-gold hair slipped in also for security, her expression in fear. Covering them from attacks and stray punches, they got out quietly into the surface.

Getting out into the far more spacious bazaar, the five were able to breathe freely now. Kroverrus made sure everyone was alright. “Unthinkable to start a fight there.” He remarked. “But we came back safe. That’s good.”

Noraeus stroked his blonde hair. “I thought our work is meant to be like that, but it happened when we were off-duty.” He added, before turning to the new woman. “Good call in joining us out.”

She meekly nodded. “I’m Orenia.” She introduced. “I’m a musician by profession.”

Bel listened with interest. “A musician?” She repeated.

Orenia nodded again. “Since the occupation, I’ve been placed in a band.” She explained. “We play when the government wants it, and we’re forced to learn new songs.”

Kroverrus checked his arm for bruises or scratches. “Now we see why you’d be here.” He commented.

Bel shook her head. “So even our musicians are affected.” She lamented before extended. “I’m Belatha. I work at Silvermoon Fineries.”

Orenia shook hands. “I don’t think I want to go into the meetings anymore.” She said on the ordeal. “I should be practising or playing music instead.”

The former mage nodded. “Maybe we can meet and listen to your music from now on?” She suggested.

The musician agreed. “Anything but there.” She nodded, and scattered for home with everyone.