Chapter Text
In a secluded corner of the Underbelly…
“So can you tell if he’s alive? Or rather, where Magnus is? Either way…” Millificent trails off, both in anticipation, and because she knows the pair before her are too far beyond buzzed to care.
The drunk druid leans–or perhaps unintentionally tips–forward, over the strange assortment both Millificent and this apparent draenei “soulbinder-but-maybe-a-diviner” have put together, by the latter’s instruction. She pulls a leaf from her hair and adds it, to contribute. She’d grown that one more recently. “I am getting a read here… Oh! There it goes, right to the mark!” the soulbinder slurred, hard to understand with the alcohol making her accent even thicker, but Millificent gets the gist of what she says.
“Hah! We’ll see how you like that, Millhouse!”
“Who were we trying to reach again?” the draenei attempts to whisper to the night elf woman attached to her arm as they leave. She half shrugs in response, giggle bubbling from her lips.
Meanwhile, in the Legerdemain Lounge…
“Oh yeah, alright baby, hit me with another!”
“No gnome should be able to drink this much,” the bartender thinks as he pours yet another shot. He’ll cut him off at the next one, of course. It’s not like he’s a real bartender anyway; though maybe he’d been asking for it, dressing up as one for the party. Ah well, he got front row seats to the show of all these heroes letting loose, and other shady characters taking advantage of the night of free booze. Not to mention said gnome with the drinking habits of a dwarf getting knocked over by a–huh? If someone’s over there using some kind of illusion, they better know potions, spells, and other magic items don’t count for the costume contest!
“Wo-oah! Hello there, sweet cheeks! What dropped you in over here? Not that I’m complaining–” Millhouse deliberately stepped past the shattered remains of the glass he’d dropped, to get a better look at the angel that seemingly fell for him. A night elf, huh? And horns to boot, that’s not too common, he’s pretty sure. “The name’s Millhouse, if I can get your–”
“I am Ysera; how did you bring me here, Millhouse, back to the world of the waking?”
She’d knelt down to speak to him, but living or spirit, it seemed a dragon’s voice effortlessly boomed, yet the blaring music must’ve drowned it out enough, as no nearby partiers looked their way. It took him a second, but oh, had he heard that name before! Grabbing her hand and tugging her along, her thankfully ever-graceful and not losing her footing despite the imbalance the height difference caused, he lead her outside, both for the fresh air and moderate privacy. The Ysera, huh? She’d looked up at the moon, The White Lady, as soon as it’d come into view, only meeting his eye again when he spoke, “Much as I hate to say it, I don’t know what’cha mean by “bring you here.” I’d just been enjoying another night of Hallow’s End festivities.” She frowned, and he hurried to save, “I’m happy to show you around the city of course! Free of charge.”
She cast him a considering look, the still present frown turning contemplative. “If not you, then who?” she asked, ignoring his generous offer. “I was brought here, I can feel the tether connecting me to you. It feels weak, easily broken I’m sure, but I don’t think this should be ignored. Hallow’s End you say? Surely not a coincidence, with the strong ties to undeath. Yet… Why me? And you? What purpose does this serve?”
Millhouse blinked. “Maybe it was an accident?” He leaned back against the wall of the inn, watching as she pursed her lips in further thought. “I for one say we make the most of it.” Ysera silently raised an eyebrow at him. “You said you’re stuck with me, yeah? So let’s go have fun! It’s Hallow’s End, with parties, costumes, and candy galore! Say, you ever had a G.N.E.R.D.?”
“In hindsight it occurs to me that offering candy to a ghost doesn’t quite make sense, but let it be known that I tried! Maybe a mask is more your style. Hmm…”
Ysera smiled faintly to herself as he rummaged in a loot-filled pumpkin, muttering about the various types within. She didn’t yet want to ruin his fun by reminding him of the unlikelihood of her being able to interact with a mask where the candy failed, taking what joy she could while here. She couldn’t help a snort at the way he flung one mask, a blur of pink streaking by.
“Aha!” He spun, presenting to her a female tauren mask.
“‘Aha’ yourself; don’t go throwing things in the inn! Not while I’m looking after it!” the temp innkeeper chastised him with a glower before retrieving the discarded mask. “Now take your treats before I give you a trick!”
“Oh, I can show you a–hey!” Not feeling inclined to bother the human any longer, nor worrying over courtesies such as apologizing, Ysera grabbed Millhouse’s shoulder before he could escalate matters, mask still in hand and candies threatening to pour out of his pockets.
The temp-keeper blinked after him stumbling out. “He did smell of alcohol,” she muttered to herself. “Damn partiers…”
“Please don’t go starting fights, I think there’s plenty of that without help right now,” Ysera said lowly as she pulled him around the building to the Eventide. It was quiet out, if one could ignore the raucous music and cheering emanating from the Legerdemain Lounge.
“I wasn’t gonna do anything nasty, just a little, ah, temporary change of view, maybe,” he said, smirk none too reassuring.
“She gives people a place to sleep and I can respect that.” Millhouse snorted at her. “So, this mask? You think that’ll work out better than the candy?”
He shuffled his feet under her gaze. “I figured the problem was that it’s food, right? You don’t need that, but a mask is purely cosmetic, and vanity is important no matter who you are.” He nodded to himself, as if stating a fact of life.
“The problem was that I couldn’t even pick it up. In this plane I may be, but I belong fully to the Emerald Dream. I am no longer of this world, Millhouse.” It stung her a bit to say, but she’d had time to accept her fate. It was not as though the Dream were a bad place to be, by her standards, even eternally. Especially so. His pity however, she would not accept.
“But I was able to hold your hand earlier, and you grabbed my shoulder, too. And you’re–oh,” he looked down to where her feet were very much not touching the ground. “You’re floating. Alright. Well, that doesn’t explain the other stuff!”
“Only being able to physically interact with you I would assume has something to do with what brought me to you in the first place,” she paused briefly, before sighing and getting them back to the issue. No point in delaying it, she’d had her fun running around. “Think. I know of many who would wish my return, but none that would have any reason to send me to a specific person, and certainly not to a mage. What of you?”
He stroked his beard. “Hm, I do have a few enemies, I suppose–who doesn’t these days?–but sending a nice ghost of a green dragon doesn’t make much sense, unless I was right and it was a mistake.”
“That’s quite the mistake to make, regardless of which of us was the intentional target. Who–”
“Millhouse! Jerimus! Manastorm! Where is he?” Millificent got louder as she seemingly appeared from nowhere, causing Millhouse to jump. Ysera pursed her lips, curious of this newcomer.
“That’s still not my middle name!” Millhouse cried indignantly.
Millificent stomped closer to Millhouse, poking him in the chest. “I don’t care! Where is he?”
He tried leaning away, only avoiding tipping over by Ysera’s hand going to his back to catch him. “Who? What’re you talking about? What’re you doing here?”
She poked him again, harder. “You know who, Millhouse! Your father! What did you do with him?”
“Nothing! You know I haven’t seen him in years! Why would he be… here.” He shot a quick glance up to Ysera, who had the audacity to look almost amused by the situation. Wait. Oh no. Milly wouldn’t go that far, would she?
He wasn’t kidding anyone. Of course she would. But to fail? That’s not like her, so what gives?
She also hadn’t even acknowledged the dragon in the room. Though, now that he thought about it, no one they’d come across had. So Millificent didn’t know Ysera was here? Ooh…
She was also still yelling at him. She’d gotten real pitchy, too. “…four of my revenge!”
Four? Oh, probably stage four. The usual drama. “That’s nice, Milly, but I think I need to go now. I have a bit of a ghost problem you see. Very urgent.”
“Don’t “Milly” me! You’re not going anywhere!” She pulled out a very distressing looking device that crackled with energy he suspected was meant to incapacitate him in some way. The hand on his back grips his robes. Not today!
Of all the horrors Millificent had intended to inflict upon Millhouse today, seeing him get launched into the air at high speeds wasn’t to happen for another eight stages. Not to mention the how; he didn’t specialize in that sort of magic, she thought, and she was certain it wasn’t her device. Still, with nothing to be done of it, the sight of him ascending rapidly, and the sound of his undignified scream were pretty satisfying, even this did put her behind schedule. Which, if he’d not seen Magnus anywhere, she already was.
“Could a guy get a little warning next time?” Millhouse shouted over the wind threatening to knock him out of the sky. How the landing on her back hadn’t broken any of his bones, he didn’t know, and he feared the idea that she’d done this enough to know how to do it without hurting the to-be passenger.
But it was pretty cool.
“Apologies, I figured it was remove you from the danger or ask permission and see what exactly that thing would do.”
“You do not sound very sorry,” he mumbled.
“And you do not seem as upset as you suggest,” she turned her head slightly to show him her toothy (fangy?) grin, unbothered by the trees passing just below as they made their way into Val’sharah. Which should probably concern him, but she’s already doing a twist in the air before he could respond.
“So where are we headed?” he asked once she righted herself.
She hummed, low and deep in her dragon form. “Despite Dalaran being your home city, as you’re not safe there, I figured I’d bring you somewhere you’re not likely to be looked for. The trees are hardly your element, are they?”
“I’m pretty hardy, I can adapt to wherever I go, thank you.” He puffed out his chest.
Her laugh was rumbling, which once probably would have shaken the trees beneath them, instead only reaching him.
Eventually a realization hit him, as they flew around the forest: she was enjoying the night air and moonlit forest. Which was an unexpectedly sweet understanding to come to, but it made sense to him. “Have you missed this?” he asked, unsure if it was really his place to.
Another hum. “Despite existing in the Dream so long, it seems that upon being awoken I did become rather attached to this world, and the people of it. Again, really. Still, I can rest at ease knowing the Nightmare will not consume it. The Dream is my home, I will be happy to return. I’m simply enjoying this flight as the opportunity presented itself.”
Millhouse made to pull candy out of his pocket, looking at one of the prizes in his hand. “You did say the tether was easily broken, didn’t you?”
“Correct. Brittle, almost; why do you ask?”
He carefully held up a leaf as she slowed down to land away from any towns. In the shadows provided, a faint glow could be seen coming from it.
She leaned in to see it upon transforming back into her mortal appearance. “That would explain the weakness. Even now, you see, the magic is slowly burning the leaf away. Days, maybe even weeks for it to finish burning, unless it were interrupted, broken.”
Doing his best not to look at it like a ticking bomb, he gave her a bright smile. “So, you’d estimate about the duration of Hallow’s End?”
Ysera eyed the leaf a moment before nodding. “That’s about right.”
“Wanna go do more trick-or-treating with me? It takes you all over the place, you know."