Chapter 113: Dancing Together
Even Patrick merely responded with a faint smile, and Councilor Oakes continued, “I imagine you have already discovered the council’s weaknesses. I can see that you have no desire to develop alongside those councilors who hinder your progress. That way, I can depart this world with peace of mind.”
By this point, Oakes’s meaning was perfectly clear. He was worried that, after his death, the other families of the council would swallow up the Dawnblade clan. He wanted Patrick to lend the Dawnblades a helping hand in secret. The old mage was the patriarch upon whom the Dawnblades had relied for thousands of years, and he had devoted his entire life to their cause.
“But I have one condition.” Patrick stated his terms directly.
Indeed, so long as the councilors did not openly turn against him, Patrick had no desire to return to Silvermoon City to develop his power. Doing so would only restrict his progress and leave him constantly looking over his shoulder.
Out here, at least, most factions could not extend their influence into the Sun Temple. He could devote himself to his own advancement and lay the foundations for the future—at the very least, allowing more elves to survive the Second and Third Wars, rather than ending up in the tragic state recorded by later generations.
The enemies of the future would be powerful—terrifyingly powerful. In the turbulent world of Azeroth, legends would become commonplace, while immortals would be worth less than dogs. Even demigods would not be spared from falling.
The old mage was delighted. Since Patrick had named a condition, it meant he had agreed in principle. “Please, Councilor Patrick, state your request.”
“I want Quel’Thalas’s large-scale levitation technology.” Patrick voiced his demand without hesitation.
“That will be no problem at all. The cooperation agreement we previously drafted remains in effect. I hope the cooperation between our two families will become increasingly smooth in the future.” The old mage’s smile grew broader and broader, making it impossible to tell what he was plotting.
Oakes Dawnblade departed, and the cooperation between the two families grew ever closer. Patrick also needed an ally—someone who could help him establish a firm foothold within the council. Since the royal family had been unable to offer him direct assistance, finding an ally within the council was especially important, particularly when that ally also had something to ask of him.
Upon returning to the Dawnblade family’s mage tower, one of the attendants asked in confusion, “Master, have you not already made contact with the royal family? Why do you still intend to cooperate with Patrick Kabolon?”
“After I am gone, the council’s moves will certainly follow one after another. Although the royal family agreed to our demands, as the price of that political exchange, the Dawnblades will lose our share of influence within the council once we receive their protection. I have made preparations for this possibility. Our people may suffer suppression, and we may even lose some of our trading companies and resources, but under the protection of the councilors and the royal family, the other councilors will not be able to break us apart and swallow us whole.”
“And if Councilor Patrick and the royal family wish to compete for control of the Dawnblades, they will inevitably clash. That will give us an excellent opportunity to grow. If one of our clansmen can successfully advance to the eighth rank before they have the time to deal with us, the Dawnblade family’s glory will continue.”
There was no denying that Oakes was the finest patriarch the Dawnblades had ever possessed. Even in the face of a crisis of talent, even with his own life gradually nearing its end, he was still using the last of his worth to secure advantages for his clan.
The Dawnblades had played this hand beautifully. They truly were old foxes tempered by more than three thousand years of history. If events unfolded as Oakes wished, and the Dawnblades produced another executive councilor, the family’s fortune would continue for thousands more years.
Oakes had already sensed that his life might come to an end within fifty years, which was why he had begun paving the way for the Dawnblades’ future. Although fifty years was practically a lifetime to a human, to an elf it was little different from one or two years. Thus, Oakes Dawnblade had begun making arrangements for what lay ahead.
Of course, all of this rested on the assumption that no cataclysmic invasion occurred.
…
After Oakes Dawnblade left, Patrick was pondering the Dawnblades’ future troubles when a clear, lovely voice sounded beside him.
“Are you thinking about Oakes Dawnblade’s proposal?”
Patrick turned and saw Alleria smiling faintly at him. As the eldest of the three Windrunner sisters, she was known throughout Silvermoon City. Three elves were watching from farther away. One was Sylvanas, whom Patrick had met before; beside her stood a young female elf and a young male elf.
Alleria wore a classic white evening gown. Her golden, wavy hair fell over her chest in soft curls, while the graceful rise of her figure resembled distant peaks. Golden silk gloves encased her hands, their brilliance complementing the white of her dress like pure, radiant emotion made visible. A delicate ruby necklace rested against her fair throat.
“Won’t you ask me to dance?” she asked playfully.
Patrick rose and straightened his clothes. Then he walked courteously to the elf maiden, inclined his head with a smile, and extended his right hand.
“May I have this dance?”
“It would be my honor.”
Her hand was already resting in his.
Though separated by the golden silk glove, Patrick could still feel the warmth of her arm. It was soothing and pleasant, carrying a faint, delicate fragrance reminiscent of musk.
Her luminous eyes turned like jade, her silken sleeves wrapped around her supple hands. Her pale fingers lightly raised the golden threads; she moved with the grace of a startled swan, gleaming like crystal. Patrick’s hand rested gently against her slender waist, and she lowered her brows with a shy smile, offering herself to him.
Even the arcane energy around them seemed to grow joyful. Blue-white arcane roses blossomed one after another at their feet before scattering on the breeze, while waves of fresh arcane power drifted throughout the center of the ballroom.
“Second Sister, Third Sister, is that the man our eldest sister likes?” Lirath Windrunner asked.
“He looks like nothing more than a somewhat capable mage. What does Alleria see in him?” Vereesa Windrunner also seemed puzzled.
“I never expected him to become a councilor in just a few short years. He really is remarkable,” Sylvanas said with a sigh.
Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the nobles dancing around them began to stop and watch the pair in the center of the hall. The gazes of the female elven nobles grew increasingly fervent. The newly appointed executive councilor was known throughout Silvermoon City, and everyone was asking whether Patrick was already married. The title of councilor’s wife was one that many female elves coveted.
When the dance ended, Patrick and Alleria realized that they had become the focus of the entire banquet hall. The two of them walked slowly out of the ballroom and into the garden beyond.
“Alleria.”
“Yes?”
Patrick gathered arcane energy and shaped it into an energy sigil, which slowly sank into Alleria’s body.
“This is my energy crest. With it, the identification system inside my mage tower will recognize you as possessing the same high-level authority as I do.”
“When will you come to the Windrunner Tower to ask for my hand?”
“The Dawnblades have agreed to give me their large-scale levitation technology. Once I complete my final creation, I will go to the Windrunner Tower.”
Patrick and Alleria remained together until the banquet ended. Then Patrick led his people back to the Kabolon family’s mage tower, while Alleria returned with the Windrunners.
As they parted, Sylvanas regarded Patrick with a knowing smile, while Vereesa and Lirath watched him with a trace of hostility.