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Report 638-05y: Claims to Title, Seraanna Longveil

Seraanna Longveil (ren’dorei), and her younger sister Annadia (sin’dorei), are the only known survivors of the Morrowsun bloodline, a house once thought to have gone extinct in the Fall of Quel’thalas.

Morrowsun was a quel’dorei house of modest holdings on the southern borders - the Marches - of Quel’thalas. Almost a century before the First War, Lord Vaeran Morrowsun, formally addressed as Marquis, entered into an alliance of marriage with Telnia Roselight, the daughter of a well-placed merchant family. The Roselights received entry into title and nobility and all it entailed, while Morrowsun gained much-needed resources and an entry into finance.

It was an open secret that the marriage was one of alliance, not love, and that Vaeran kept a mistress, Aralya Longveil, known since his youth. Telnia gave birth to a son hailed as the Morrowsun heir, cementing the union of Morrowsun and Roselight. Meanwhile, the daughters of Vaeran’s mistress, Seraanna and Annadia, were considered illegitimate lest Roselight withdraw their alliance.

Arthas Menethil’s scourging of Quel’thalas ravaged Morrowsun lands, and the Morrowsun line was slaughtered in the ensuing carnage. Similarly, Aralya perished when the Lich King’s forces reached Silvermoon but her grown daughters, Seraanna and Annadia, survived the invasion and harsh times immediately thereafter (see historical report 001-06g). With House Morrowsun thought extinct, Kael’thas and his Magisters seized most of its assets and redistributed them to their allies as Quel’thalas attempted to rebuild.

Thirty-four years later, near the closing of the Fourth War, a packet of documents was presented to the offices of Regent Lord Lor’themar Theron. (Refer to report 631-12c regarding disturbance and fire in the Ghostlands.) Dated from the run-up to the Scourge invasions and bearing Vaeran Morrowsun’s witnessed seal, the documents conferred legitimacy upon Seraanna and Annadia as heirs of Morrowsun “should my house otherwise come to ruin.”

The solicitors involved, Vor’min and Alesstus Evercrown, presented a case that managed to survive the challenges of the noble houses that had profited from the fall of Morrowsun. Ultimately, the sisters were allowed to claim the house name, title, and remaining (uninhabitable) estate - on the condition of renouncing any claim to the lands and assets previously seized and redistributed.

Seraanna now holds the title of Marquessa (Lady of the Marches) of Morrowsun although she rarely uses the title and has shown little interest in noble machinations, particularly as ren’dorei remain unwelcome in Silvermoon. She owns, through legitimate agents, (vetted, no irregularities found) a controlling interest in a building on the edge of Stormwind Harbor where she often makes her residence. However, she’s spent most of the last three years near the Temple of the Jade Serpent in Pandaria’s Jade Forest (cross reference report 636-18m, subheading “Alchemist”)

Annadia, using her affected surname of Thorn, seems even even less inclined to politics and prefers her role as Captain of the Aralya’diel, a newly-christened clipper from the shipyards of Suramar (report 637-12e). Not only is it unusual to see a private vessel completed while both navies are still under reconstruction, the Aralya'diel has a difficult-to-obtain dispensation to dock in Alliance harbors (request permission to examine signing authorizations, cross-reference with financial transactions and spending patterns). Such dispensations are a recent development of the armistice; Horde crew or passengers of such vessels are limited to the docks and harbor only.

The brothers Evercrown remain as Morrowsun’s solicitors and representatives in matters of business and finance. (Background checks have not borne fruit, refer to assets in Dalaran and Suramar for further investigation.)

Queries submitted to Stormwind's intelligence agencies have resulted only in documents so redacted as to be useless. Similar queries to Silvermoon have returned only the registration of House Morrowsun upon the rolls, with no other matters addressed.

– Respectfully submitted, Agent C. Nath

Agent’s note: I understand that previous reports establish Longveil as a person of interest, and Thorn’s actions and associations as a potential infiltration risk, but neither seem to bear inclination or motive to pose meaningful threat. The Evercrowns are most notable for escaping notice but, while I expected them to have a more visible profile, they seem to operate only rarely within Alliance purvey. Permission requested to reduce priority of this line of research for higher priority subjects.

[ Follows the events mentioned here. ]

“I shoulda shot her when I had the chance.”

They were in Dalaran, walking by the stonework entrance to the Underbelly on their way to the Legerdemain when Annadia made the short, bitter comment.

“What is... it that you speak of, sister? Who ought you have shot?” Seraanna’s quiet voice barely lifted above the sound of their tread on the cobbled streets.

The rogue turned to her quieter sibling, golden eyes flicking only briefly to the faint wisps of shadow that trailed in the ren’dorei’s wake. There was no reproach in Seraa’s tone, no darkening of shadow to give warning of offense. Only the quiet question.

“You know who,” Anna finally replied. “I found her in the Underbelly the first time we met - after you were shot on Hilltop. Had her dead to rights, too. She was supposed to be the one to protect you, Seraa. All those words she said, all that talk - fel, even I bought it. And she dumped it all for a book and that mouthy cousin of hers.” She snorted, frustration apparent. “How can you be so fucking serene about the whole gods-damned thing?”

Seraanna’s eyes closed briefly as they walked, “You wish me to... rail against another’s truth? I am my own, dear... sister. As are you, as is... she, as was the exquisite distraction. All paths may be embraced as... truth, and it is not for... me, or for you, to decide what another’s may be, no matter the... mortal giving I may desire.”

“Seraa, can’t you just - call her a bitch or something? Get drunk, find someone to drag to bed and fuck senseless?” The sin’dorei shook her head, long ebon hair moving in waves. “Just be angry about it, for fuck’s sake.”

“Oh... no.” A faint, sly smile crept across Seraanna’s face. “That is most certainly not... to be desired.” She paused in her steps to look at the sign to her left. “We are... arrived.”

The Legerdemain Lounge, like most establishments in Dalaran, was open to those of either faction. The two elves, one sin’dorei and the other ren’dorei, weren’t even worth a second glance from the staff or most of the clientele, save for one. Another sin’dorei - blonde, well-groomed, and immaculately dressed - rose from a table to approach the pair as they entered.

“The sisters Longveil?” His tone was respectful, bordering on obsequious. At Annadia’s curt nod of affirmation, he bowed and motioned towards the stairs. “It is our pleasure. A room has been reserved upstairs for this evening’s business. Please, come with me.”

Lighting the funeral pyre was the last thing they did before leaving the Ghostlands. Not to send the newly dead on their way, but to be certain the old dead wouldn’t rise once more.

Seraanna watched, her quiet gaze impassive as Mary lit the bier of broken furnishings and rotted cloth with a small flash of fel green, the flames quickly turning orange-yellow as the old, dry wood caught fire. It took only a few minutes to grow into a bonfire, the desiccated corpses of what had once been the priestess’ father and half-brother bursting into flame more eagerly than the wood they’d scavenged from the remains of the estate. The twice-dead remains of the patriarch of Morrowsun and his acknowledged heir burned, bright embers rising into the night sky.

“Did you want to say anything?”

Over the sound of crackling flame, Seraanna was uncertain who had asked the question of her. Maybe Mozelle. The woman been surprisingly considerate, despite the reputation Seraa knew she bore.

“...no.”

“Then we ought to go.” Tallissan’s tone was direct and unadorned, leaving no room for sentiment. “This is going to attract a patrol.”

Malrek turned his head to the side and spit, then resumed chewing whatever wad of leaf that was perpetually in the warrior’s mouth. “She’s right, we should get moving.”

Opening her clenched right hand, Seraanna glanced at the ring she’d taken, the strangely detailed talisman she’d come to collect from a past that had never chosen to acknowledge her or her sister.

“Let us... depart, then,” she murmured, placing the ring within a pocket and turning her back to the blazing pyre.

Their mounts were only a short distance away, loosely tied to the bridge at the estate’s edge. Mozelle was the last to be ready, applying extra care to secure the makeshift cage of raccoons she’d rescued while the other’s mounts chuffed impatiently. Tallissan took the lead, taking them south and expertly avoiding both Sin’dorei patrols and knots of shambling undead. It wasn’t until they neared Light’s Hope Chapel in the Eastern Plaguelands that the group split apart with vague promises to reconnect. Some, after all, were less than comfortable with such proximity to the Light.

* * *

When Seraanna finally reached her flat near Stormwind Harbor, dawn already threatened the horizon and early tradesmen were beginning to move through the city streets. It took her several moments, in her exhaustion, to remember it was the still-new silver key that opened her door - the old brass key gifted to the dead well over a month past.

Shadow twisted about her as she disrobed, pausing only briefly to splash water on her face before sliding - alone - into her bed. No matter that day was about to break, her exhaustion was a weight that pressed her into the mattress and weighed down the blankets and sheets.

Before Seraa’s eyes closed, her gaze drifted once more to the ring that now rested on her nightstand. It must have been the brightening sky, diffused through the drawn curtains of her bedroom, that lightened the gems set into its surface, she decided as sleep fell upon her.

Sleep. And dreams.