Ficlet Challenge - Midsummer Sun

[Aelflaed]

(reformatted from my blog post)

Hooray, it’s Midsummer!

Except… for all extents and purposes, Azeroth is a world without electricity. Which means it’s probably a world without universally available air conditioning. (Of course, gnomes are a likely exception) Fortunately, Azeroth is also a world with “climate controlled zones”… but that doesn’t mean we can’t add a little seasonal flair to our Midsummer celebration.



As such I propose a Friday Ficlet! If you choose to take the challenge, write a ficlet that addresses the following prompt in some way:

A record-breaking heat wave hits Azeroth just in time for Midsummer.

When you’re done, post the fic here. There may be prizes, or candy, or something. I've not decided yet!

[Yva]

Yva looked at her houseplant. It drooped pathetically. That was likely in part thanks to the chomp marks along the lower branches where Stumpy’d had his chew-fit, but the heat wasn’t helping matters either.

She picked up her fan and sighed, sweat running down her back. When she’d been dead, heat wasn’t a problem, but then she didn’t really feel it because she ran so cold she was a walking icebox. Now, though, a pulse and a heartbeat later, not only did she FEEL the heat, she got all sticky and her clothes got clingy and she swelled up like a wood tick.

And it was disgusting.

She guzzled her thirty fourth glass of lemonade, thinking Shad was going to kill her for the sugar consumption, and stabbed in Fells’s box frequency. As soon as it clicked on, Yva threw herself into her chair and oozed across the cushions.

“Fells, this weather is bloody killing me.”

The other line fizzled before quieting down, if quieting down was what one could call tuning into the Drachmas household. There was the less than melodic wailing of babies in the background, and Fells Drachmas’s beleaguered sigh as she struggled to be heard over the cacophony. “Know it,” she half shouted. “Th’babes are fussin’ terrible-like, an’ ‘cosia’s been in th’lake so long she’s gonna git all pruney.”

” . . . is Laz at home?”

“Nope. S’off doin’ whatever it is Laz does when he ain’t here. Thank th’bronzes for Shad. Got him out runnin’ for ice cream. Should be back inna tick.”

The notion of ice cream made the Balthasar heir churning in Yva’s stomach blurgle at her, and she looked down with a frown. “Ice cream? I want ice cream.” She glanced over at the wall clock. Jak had been gone since before sunrise and wasn’t due back from his patrol until after suppertime. Which meant if she wanted ice cream, she had to head to Tanaris herself to get it. Of course if it was hot here, it was infinitely hotter in the desert.

She hated Jak right then. It wasn’t rational, it wasn’t nice, but she hated him for getting her pregnant, abandoning her to the heat, and most especially for not psychically knowing she and his child demanded an ice cream sacrifice RIGHT NOW.

“Yva, why don’ ya come over? Sure we gots more’n ‘nough ice cream t’go ’round.”

“I . . . yes, I could . . . ”

Ice. Cream.

Yva lifted up her hand and peered at her fingers. She flexed her pointer and a talon of ice grew from the tip almost like an extra fingernail. Her eyes flickered over to the wall, and then back to her magic effect, and a grin began to split her face.

“Fells, I have the most wonderful idea. I’ll be there shortly.”

She thrust herself from the comfortable clutches of her chair and tottered towards her office, retrieving a rune from her desk drawer. A few magical words and a snapped rune later, she, Flaadhun the felhound, Stumpy the corehound, Evan the wolfhound, her two snakes, and a zombie bunny kept in a bag as to not disturb Fells appeared on the Drachmas family farm . . .

. . . which was not a farm because Laurus was a nutter.

Yva shuffled up the drive, pausing in her tracks to peer at the lake. She spotted a blond head bobbing in the waters and waved, her hands cupping around her mouth so she could shout.

“Precosia, dear, come inside. Yva has a splendid idea.”

She didn’t wait for an answer, instead letting herself into Fells’s house with ice talons sprouting from every fingertip. Her menagerie tottered in behind her, all panting and miserable and droopy.

“I hope you don’t mind the pets,” she said in greeting. “But it was terribly hot at home and I didn’t feel right leaving the poor things there. Oh, and Bunny’s in the bag.” She dropped the bag onto the chair in the corner with an unceremonious thud. It twitched but otherwise remained unmoving.

Fells eyed it as she paced back and forth, a wailing Heth against her shoulder. Her dark hair was plastered to her scalp, and there were dots of sweat at her temples. A few of them ran rivulets down the sides of her face. “Fine s’long as ya keep that unnatural thing ‘way from th’babes. An’ inna bag.”

“Of course. Now then.”

Yva eyed the back wall of the great room, her mouth pinching thoughtfully. When she lifted her hand up, ice began to spread, covering everything from the paint to the pictures to the drapes. Fells turned around and squawked, her eyes bulging from their sockets. The noise startled the babies, and both of them set off on another round of screeching. The dogs barked in echo and the snakes slithered away to hide under the bed. Even the big dead rabbit roiled around inside of his canvas sack.

Utter chaos had descended upon the household in the span of twelve seconds.

“Yva, what’re ya doin’! That ain’t . . . Laz’s gonna . . . aww damn it! Everythin’ stop bellowin’!”

Yva just smiled, opting not to point out that Fell’s bellowing was louder than everything else’s. She forced the ice over a second wall, and then a third. Fells sputtered beside her like a gobbo machine about to die a glorious, mechanical death. “Give it a moment, my dear. Just one moment.”

The temperature dropped almost immediately. Yva channeled more mana into the ice to keep the effect alive, so nothing would melt and cause a watery mess. She lifted her arms and waited, and soon, a lovely circulation of cool air began around them. Flaadhun grunted and shoved by her to go sprawl on the hearth, Stumpy and Evan trotting behind him. They settled down into three large heaps, stretching out to enjoy the now tolerable temperature. Heth quieted down, which meant Feli quieted down, which meant . . .

Fells quieted down.

“Oh damn! That feels real nice!” She sighed as she sank down into a chair at the table, reaching for a glass of water. “Laz’ll prolly have a ruttin’ fit, but I don’ care. Feels too good ta tell ya t’stop.”

“I’ll handle Laz.” Yva moved to the chair beside her, reaching forward to pick Feli up from her crib. The little girl squirmed and made a very ‘I don’t like you’ face at her, but Yva ignored it, rubbing her back in soothing circles. Feli settled down, unhinging her jaw in a yawn and cramming a pudgy fist in her mouth.

“Ya know what’s gonna make it even better?” Fells said after a minute. “Mean, other’n the house gittin’ cool.”

“Hmm?”

“Shad’s still bringin’ ice cream.”

Yva’s stomach yowled. Fells’s stomach brawred in answer.

The cousins looked at each other and grinned.

[Shaurria]

((Also posted on my blog.))


As she sprawled bonelessly in a chair in her room, Lark wondered if it was possible to melt. Komah and Tuah lay on either side of her, panting. She eyed the big spirit-cat curiously. "You never got heat like this in the Basin?" she asked him. He looked up at her. Not like this. And there were ways to cool off, there. This is just...

He trailed off, but she knew what he meant. A glance out the window showed heat rising off the cobblestones in a shimmering haze. No one was out in the streets; the smart or rich ones were shut up in their homes, and the rest would be out in the Forest or swimming at the docks. Lark didn't care for either option at the moment, but she still wished for some way to cool off.

Sudden inspiration struck. She peered down at Komah. "Have you ever seen snow?"

He looked back at her, slightly affronted. Of course. There is plenty of snow in Zul'Drak, and other places as well. Lark waved her hands at him. "All right, I meant no offense. Come on, let's go find Pitch."

They found the druid in the Park, sprawled on the edge of the moonwell, his fur soaked and ruff standing up in spikes. Once she explained her plan, he seemed agreeable to a little traveling, and the four of them headed for the boat to Kalimdor.

* * * * * *

As their hippogryphs landed in Winterspring, both Night elves took a deep breath of the cold, clean air. Komah jumped off the saddlepad behind Lark, looking around with interest. Oh yes, this is much better, he practically purred, and Lark grinned. The grin turned into a laugh as Tuah jumped down from behind Pitch and dove for the nearest snowbank, burying himself completely. He peered out at her, as if to say What do you expect?

Komah pawed at the snow, then lay down with a contented sigh. Lark watched her pets with a grin, not even noticing when Pitch snuck off to the side.

The snowball caught her by surprise, splattering across the back of her neck. "Oh, you..." She grabbed up a handful of snow herself, but he had ducked behind a tree, laughing.

Komah watched them with alarm. Is that normal behavior? he asked her, but she was too busy to answer him. She ducked another snowball, then charged at Pitch's hiding place.

He stepped out to throw again, only to catch her snowball directly in his face. Spluttering, he tried to clear his eyes as she bombarded him, throwing snowballs as fast as she could pack them. He finally lunged toward her, making a blind tackle, and they thunked down in the snow.

Tuah left the snowbank and came over, stretching out at her side. Lark patted the moonstalker's flank, as Pitch shook the snow out of his eyes. "Wonder if we could stay out here til the heat wave is over," he said, still blinking as he peered at her.

Lark smiled, but shook her head. "I think the Professor might have a problem with that." Pitch sighed as he flopped flat on the snow. Then he raised his head and grinned at her.

"Still, we don't have to rush back, do we?" Lark eyed him back, an answering grin stretching across her face.

[Shad]

((I'm slow.))

It was hot.

Being from Winterspring, Shad had a different concept of hot than most of Azeroth. Anything above the freezing point used to count. He'd spent four years--four summers--wallowing in a state of melted confusion when he began to experience actual summer. It couldn't be natural, he recalled thinking.

That day, Era was thinking it along with him. Era hailed from the most sweltering and humid areas of Stranglethorn, and that day, he was whining like a kitten. "I figured it out, elf. Arthas was helping keep the planet cool. We've thrown off the whole environmental balance, we're doooooooooomed!"

The elf did not reply. That would have taken energy, and expending energy created heat. He really couldn't afford more of that. The sum of his mental and physical resources were dedicated to two pursuits: sweating, and thinking. There had to be some way to deal with this abominable temperature. Others had reportedly been managing for centuries. Yet nothing he'd tried so far seemed to work. He'd managed to keep to chores that at least kept him within the shade of the stable, but then he was too hot and tired to actually retreat into the cool, dark comfort of the house. It was a stunning credit to the dwarven model, the degrees to which the underground mansion had not heated. It was brilliant; it was lovely and bearable; and with his degree of dehydration, he was fairly certain he'd pass out before covering even half of the five hundred yards between the two buildings.

If only he could have done his chores as a cat. He wouldn't have sweated so much then. But Era would have complained intensely, it would have taken longer, and he would have passed out two hours before.

How not to die. The trough was nearby on the north side of the building. It was also full of ram dander and several other choice flavors he did not want in his mouth. Simply sticking his head under the pump was an option, but one entirely likely to drown him. Maybe, maybe if he just stuck his hand in, then by osmosis...

Oh.

Ten minutes later, a small misshapen tree was spreading its branches under the Hinterlands sun. Water flowed in through thirsty roots that wriggled slightly where they were draped into the trough. It flowed out again through the leaves, of course, beaten down by the sun, but not so much that the tiny tree could not flourish, drinking in the light as readily as the water.

No sooner had he heaved a sigh of relief than a spindly, awkward figure tromped around the side of the building. A smile lit up her face, and Fells padded over to flop down beside his trunk. "Thanks, Shad," she murmured, sidling into his shadow and wiping the sweat from her brow. "Needed a break."

Haemon reached out, as though to catch the passing breeze. "My pleasure, shari."

[Arrens]

Arrens dismounted the gryphon in Booty Bay, carefully ensuring the small crate he carried didn’t tumble helplessly to the floor several levels below him. “Long time, no see, p’rfessor,” said the gryphon master as he helped Arrens with his goods. “Wha’ be bringin’ ye down our way on this lovely summer’s day?”

Arrens stretched, his complacent muscles sore after the long flight. “I require some herbs from the region, Master Gyll. As it happens, the University’s run out of Khadgar’s Whisker for next year’s alchemy students. I need to replenish our stock.” He wiped the beads of sweat forming on his brow. “Unfortunately I hadn’t taken into account that it would be this humid here already.” He fanned himself to no avail. The robes he wore, while not thick, kept all but the stiffest breezes from reaching his skin.

Gyll chuckled. “Aye, lad. Welcome to th’ jungle.” Handing Arrens’ package back to the warlock, he said, “That’ll be 35 silver, lad.” Handing over a little extra for the tip, Arrens thanked the dwarf and summoned his stead Inigo before leaving the confines of the port city.

Hours later and several dozen specimens of Khadgar’s Whisker later, the sun began to set. Arrens’ robes were soaked through with sweat as he swallowed the last bit of water. “How the fel does anyone live down here?” he asked himself. Placing his case in Inigo’s saddlebag, he mounted his demonic stead and made a steady pace back to Booty Bay.

Before reaching the town, he saw an enormous bonfire along the coast. As he approached, he saw all manner of celebrants in varying states of intoxication laughing and celebrating the beginning of the summer. He chuckled as he recalled Aely telling him similar stories of the north, stories he had no first hand knowledge of as his youth was spent cloistered in the libraries of Dalaran.

Travelling a ways further down the coast, he dismounted Inigo. Looking back, he could still see the glow of the bonfire, but his distance was great enough that he knew he wouldn’t be bothered by their drunken revelry. Removing his clothing under the darkened sky, he stood in the pale moonlight. While the heat of the day had lessened some, the humidity continued to make him sweat. Arrens approached the waters of the South Sea and dove in. While warm, it was considerably cooler than the air and felt refreshing to the warlock.

As he was enjoying himself, he was surprised to hear quiet laughter nearby. Looking up, he saw two goblins running from his position back towards the bonfires. Not wanting anyone to see an esteemed Stormwind University headmaster in all his naked glory, he decided it was time to leave and return his goods back to Stormwind. As he approached Inigo, his jaw dropped. While his crate of goods was still within the saddlebag, he was horrified to discover his clothing missing. He rummaged through his saddlebag further and pulled out his buzzbox. Switching to a private channel, he spoke quietly.

“My love? Aely? I’m…yes. Yes, my love. Yes. I know it’s late. I’m sorry to have woken you. No. No, I”m fine. Really. But…erm…I need some help. And some clothes…”