(2023-06-02) People Watching

Details

Author:	Alli
Summary:	Sylvie Sullivan carries out her new responsibilities in Northrend.
Rating:	T for Teen

“Just let me show you what we have here,” Sylvie says, taking one piece after the other out of her frostweave bag. A little wooden walrus, a whale, a crab with string-articulated legs. “Aren’t they just darling?”

The pink-haired gnomish man peers at them with frank curiosity. “What do they do? Are they enchanted?”

“Enchanting maybe, but no,” Sylvie explains. “They’re artisanal, handmade by the Kalu’ak, as they call themselves. Children adore them and the cost to secure the merchandise is minimal. The Kalu’ak have their own money system, and they hardly know the difference between silver and gold.”

“Well, now, let me think, this isn’t exactly what I usually…” the tinkling of a bell distracts the gnome, as a quel’dorei woman walks into the shop. Sylvie notes her quickly - Kirin Tor, and one she recognizes, an abjurer. Still in town. One more to go on the mental list.

Sylvie bobs her head and moves over towards the entrance with a smile as the gnome turns to the more important customer. Sylvie may as well be invisible to the elf, in her drab, plain clothing. Just a trader, here on business, easy to ignore. That's good, she's counting on that.

Keeping half her attention on the conversation, she watches the people passing by, noting names where she knows them, descriptions where not. She’s always had a good memory, and now it's sharpened by fear. Her list had not been long enough last time. She does not want a repeat of that experience.

The quel’dorei is looking for a gift for her niece. Her niece… Sylvie herself has one of those by now, or a nephew. She wonders if the child takes after Simon or his shopgirl. What would they have named it? How old would it even be by now? Her mind drifts to memories of Sil, a little brown-haired toddler, following her around like she’d hung the moons. When had that first changed? What had made her annoyance boil over, made him decide that she wasn’t…

“…all your fault,” the pink-haired gnome says, with a bright smile.

“I… I beg your pardon?” Sylvie says, more sharply than she'd intended, an odd pain somewhere in her chest cavity. Suddenly, she realizes that she let herself get lost in her own thoughts. She hasn't been watching. Or listening. Stupid, stupid, stupid. The elf has already left, and the gnome is looking at her with a puzzled expression.

“I was saying, if the Kalu'ak kids have no more toys to play with, it’ll be all your fault,” the gnome grins. “Torilene just bought one for her niece. I’m sure you don’t mind my selling the samples? You can get more, can’t you?”

“Yes,” Sylvie says, trying to force back her amiable smile. “Yes, of course. Right. The toys. I’ll just… go sort that out now. Do you have my pricing?”

“Of course, of course,” the gnome waves happily. “It’s a pleasure doing business with you, Sophie.”

Sylvie smiles at the fake name and makes her way out into Dalaran proper, her heart beating a little more quickly than it should. Her list isn’t long enough yet. Who is in Dalaran today? Who matters, who doesn’t? They never did say.

She strolls casually into the Magus Commerce Exchange, keeping her eyes open. A Kirin Tor mage here, a Magister there, and… a familiar pair of white wings on a blue tabard. It feels as though her heart stops for a moment when she recognizes the man wearing that tabard, and she ducks quickly in between two buildings.

She remembers that man, with all his muscles and his combat skills, and the woman with the dangerous penchant for head injuries. She remembers them from that terrible day in Booty Bay, when Sil managed to destroy everything, despite being tied up in a closet. He ruined everything by… having friends. Or something.

She tries to calm herself, taking deep breaths. She needs to get out of here, before she's spotted. She needs to explain to her handler that she can't… no, no. Her value is in being able to go into these cities unnoticed, just another innocent Alliance human. She can't undermine that, she doesn't want to think of what they might do if they decide she no longer has value.

But for now, she needs to go. The list is long enough. It has to be.