c15

In Lordaeron City...

Anduin stood in the entry courtyard of Lordaeron City around midmorning. The morning mist which had arisen overnight from the lake below the city to the south had finally lifted, but had left the air chilled and still moist. He was dressed in a white gentleman's shirt, with gray woolen vest, and black woolen trousers held up by a plain brown leather belt, all of which he had worn for several days of travel. A long black, lambswool overcoat with brown trim cut in the Gilnean style completed his appearance. They had been a Gilnean nobleman's clothes once upon a time, he had been certain. His benefactor, the salvage trader Horus who had parted ways with him upon reaching the city, hadn't collected any shoes from Gilneas that might have fit the young monarch, however. His own boots remained on his feet, but weren't as conspicuous as the rest of his royal clothes had been. These had been left in a trunk in the house in Pyrewood. His father's sword, Shalamayne, had been carefully wrapped in leather so as not to reveal what it was, and tied to his back with a leather strap.

Genn would approve of the new look at any rate. Anduin had thought ironically to himself.

Anduin didn't know what had happened to his friend and sometimes mentor in the craft of kingship and of war. The old wolf's gray furred face had been the last thing he remembered from that night before the Gilnean lord had attacked him and knocked him unconscious shouting, "For the Alliance!" He still refused to believe that Genn would have betrayed him, although the evidence as he sifted through it suggested otherwise. The old man had been there for him after his father's death and helped him fight through his sorrow and grief to become the High King the Alliance needed to defeat the Legion. Before that he had been one of his father's best friends. The two of them had shared a common bond which Anduin hadn't fully understood but had to do with the curse of the Worgen, and his father's own dual nature as both Varian and "Lo'gosh," the wolf spirit.

Anduin couldn't believe those bonds would so easily be broken, and had been struggling to find another explanation.

The atmosphere in the courtyard was not like the entry to Stormwind which led directly into the city's bustling Trade District full of busy markets and shops. Instead, those entering the city for business or trade did not linger there but immediately headed off to the left up flights of steps and through a passage in the stone walls deeper into the rising metropolis. The atmosphere in the courtyard was somber and serene, and felt like his father's memorial at Lion's Rest.

Fresh grass grew around a central raised dais where a white marble statue had once stood, though only its feet could now be seen. In one corner of the courtyard, a shallow hole had been left where it had been made. Two halves of a great stone block which had been broken lay to either side of it. A short fence had been placed around it to prevent tampering with the site as had two guards in polished, ceremonial armor. Towards the entry to the keep, fresh water flowed in pools and under a lowered drawbridge which led to a closed, heavy wooden door with three clearly discernible holes set as points in an inverted triangle. Brown bloodstains had dried on the door, but were heaviest around the holes which appeared to be where spikes had been driven and then removed. An honor guard had been set on either side of this door as well. Both sites memorialized something which Sylvanas did not want her people forgetting any time soon.

Anduin did not have to guess what that event was. It had clearly impacted both her, and the rest of the people of Lordaeron deeply and in ways that had changed who they were both physically and spiritually. The impact of Jeshua's life, death, and resurrection was everywhere to be seen and felt. Anduin had experienced illusory magic before and this was nothing like it. There was nothing false or insincere about these people.

The trip north from Pyrewood Village had demonstrated that if nothing else. Horus and he had passed farms and villages where people were busy patching roofs, planting crops, and rebuilding fences. The farmers that had welcomed them to stay overnight on the road were both genuine and quite living, eating, drinking, sweating, laughing, and, like Horus, silently grieving for those who hadn't survived their undeath long enough to see the day when it would be lifted. The salvage trader knew most of the folks along the highway having traded with them at some point in the past thirty years, though they didn't recognize the handsome, blond young man with the boyish face that traveled with him.

Horus had introduced him as "Gavin", a young man recently come east from Hillsbrad looking for work. Anduin had played along, not knowing how the formerly Forsaken would respond to who he truly was. It had surprised him how much the former undead worked to help one another no matter who it was.

When he had mentioned it to Horus along the road, the man responded, "No one else was going to help us. Even the other members of the Horde didn't really trust us. What family some of us had in the south or among the living abandoned us as monsters and worse. We all looked out for each other 'cause that's all we had."

And for those who knew the circumstances of their restoration, they had nothing but gracious words for Jeshua, his teachings, and his emissaries. Many if not most he encountered quoted to him something Jeshua had said or taught. This was especially true when talking about the Alliance and his own kingdom to the south. The anger towards Stormwind and their relatives and people who turned against them was real, but so also was the struggle to follow what Jeshua taught and forgive, doing good to those who did harm to them. Anduin had been humbled and ashamed by all of the good people he had met during that journey, all of whom up until Jeshua had come had been undead and left without hope by his own.

"Good luck, son." Horus had told him before moving on deeper into the city to trade his salvaged wares. "It's been an honor having you for a traveling companion. It gives me some hope to know the south has someone like you in charge now. I hope things get made right for you."

"The honor was entirely mine." Anduin had responded gentlemanly, meaning every word. "Thank you, my friend."

The King of Stormwind considered all of these things for some time as he stood there in the center of the courtyard taking in the scene. Then he turned his mind back to the problem at hand. He had been considering his next move for the last several days as they had traveled together. He needed to contact the other Alliance leadership and let them know he was alive and well, as almost certainly they would have heard of the ambush by now. The unexplained disappearance of the King of Stormwind would not go unnoticed unless there was some imposter there assuming his place, and he could not rule that out. At the moment however, his options for communication with them were nonexistent. The nearest Alliance outpost was Chillwind Camp in what had been the Western Plaguelands. If he remembered his geography, that was to the east of Lordaeron, and south of Andorhal. But even if he were to reach that, he didn't know if he could trust his own people.

The fact remained that if Genn Greymane somehow didn't betray him, that someone within the Stormwind Guard or even SI:7 had, and he didn't know how deep that betrayal went. Ironically, he had come to realize, for the time being he felt safer there in Horde controlled Lordaeron City as "Gavin" than he did as King Anduin Wrynn in Stormwind City. The city around him felt more peaceful, more hopeful, and more filled with Light by far than Stormwind had in many weeks.

His first choice would have been to find a way to contact the Prophet Velen in the Exodar, or barring that, Muradin and Moira in Ironforge. The Draenei were the most attuned people to the Light that he knew, and the Dwarves he had known had been the most loyal, stubborn, and solid friends he could ever have. But he had no means of doing that at the moment, and if he understood how mage's portals and teleportation was regulated by the Kirin Tor, there was no one in Lordaeron City that could help him even if they wanted to. Horde Mages couldn't just open portals to Alliance capitals nor vice versa. The runed stones they used to focus the energies to create them wouldn't allow for it, and the Mage had to be able to visualize where he wanted to go in the first place. It was the only reason neither his father nor Garrosh Hellscream had dropped battalions of troops or squads of mercenaries and adventurers into each other's capitals using them when their relations were at their worst.

He had considered the zeppelin towers to the north of the city which he had seen and where those might take him. He had heard that the Horde used the balloon powered airships to travel in between the continents the same way Stormwind used regular ships. If that was true, then perhaps he would be able to make it as far as Kalimdor and then try and find a way to either Darnassus or the Exodar from there. So far, he had succeeded in remaining unrecognized. But if one of those ships did go to Kalimdor, there was no guarantee that it would be docking close to the northwest coast where he could catch another ship at Lor'danel to an Alliance stronghold, and Kalimdor was a big continent.

Off to his right he could see several people, all Sindorei, emerging from another passageway and coming down similar flights of stone steps as were off to his left. He watched silently as, curiously, they all passed by him, ignoring the young human man, and ascended the steps to the passageway off to his left rather than leaving through the main gate of the city.

He waited until they had left completely and then made his way up the steps to the passageway in the stone walls off to the right to investigate. As he did, more people emerged from it and passed him by, again all possessed of the lithe, elven frame and tapered ears of the Sindorei that he could see.

Passing through, he found himself in another walled courtyard with no other exit. There was no place from which to enter it except the passage he had just come through. Stone walls rose around him, and a stone floor ran under his feet. There was no ornamentation in this courtyard. There was no broken statuary that he could see, no benches, nothing except a unique fixture situated at the other end. It was a ruby red globe set into a golden frame and placed at an angle on a stand. The globe pulsed with a kind of warm red glow.

He had never seen such a device before then. To him, it appeared to be of Thalassian make because of the artistry and architecture of the thing, though of course he couldn't know for certain.

What is this and what does it do? He wondered.

Just then, as he observed it, an elven man wearing Mage's robes flashed into existence in front of it from nowhere followed by two women in the armor of the Blood Knight Paladins of the Sindorei. Treating it as a common occurrence, the three turned away from the crimson orb and walked towards the passage.

"Well, I'm glad the Quel'dorei have finally come to their senses. I thought it was going to come to blows. For once, I can honestly say I'm glad to be away from Quel'Thalas for the moment." The Mage spoke loud enough for Anduin to hear. "Sometimes the translocation orb is more of a blessing than we realize."

"Who would have expected the Warchief to be the one to calm things down?" One of the Paladins with blue black hair responded. "I heard she's going to stay in Silvermoon for a time to work things out with her sisters."

"I hope so." The other Paladin, a silver blond elven woman replied. "It would be terrible if it came to civil war among us. I don't want to have to fight our own people especially after the New Dawn. It just wouldn't be right, not with what the human preacher did to make it happen."

The elves passed him by and continued on meaning to pass him. On a hunch he asked one of them in a casual manner, "Silvermoon safe yet to visit?"

"Oh..." The flame haired Mage replied as though seeing Anduin for the first time. "Yes. There wasn't really ever any trouble in Silvermoon City itself. You can use the orb of translocation to conduct business there without fear, human."

"Thanks." Anduin replied as the group moved on. Behind him he heard the Mage tell the other two, "I must admit I'm still getting used to seeing living humans as allies once more. He genuinely surprised me there."

The threesome passed out of sight and hearing and Anduin was once again alone.

"Translocation orb, huh?" Anduin then said to himself gazing once more on the device, his mind beginning to work.

"So, this goes to Quel'Thalas, and that's where Sylvanas is right now. There's a good bet Lor'themar Theron is there as well." He said to himself as he thought, remembering the peace talks at Light's Hope Chapel with the elven woman.

He didn't know if he could or would ever call Sylvanas a friend, but as he stood there he realized that he had already called her something of an ally once in their mutual desire for peace. He had discerned no deception or lie from her, and the Paladin Highlord as well, a man whom he trusted with his life, appeared to trust her intentions and words by the end of their summit.

If he could not reach his own friends in the Alliance, perhaps he could at least reach an ally within the Horde? Genn would have called the idea insane of course and reckless. But Genn wasn't there, and he still didn't know who among his own people he could trust.

Furthermore, the Sylvanas Windrunner he had met was firmly entrenched in her newfound devotion to the Holy Light through Jeshua Lightborn. Those that attacked him and his men in the Cathedral had done so using Void and Fel magic, things no true follower of the Holy Light would dabble in as far as he was concerned. At the very least, he felt it a certainty that the Warchief would not willingly be allied with them. Right now, that seemed to him to be more trustworthy than professed loyalty to the Alliance. In the craft of war, the enemy of your enemy was your friend, and right now he believed his true enemy was the Shadow and Fel users that had ambushed him.

It was a risk, maybe even a reckless risk, but the Sylvanas Windrunner he had met at Light's Hope Chapel might be his only chance at reaching Velen, Muradin, or Tyrande.

Making up his mind, he approached the orb. He knew most teleportation stones required that you at least be touching the stone. He reached out his hand to feel the surface of the orb and...

Anduin's stomach felt as though it had turned inside out and his head spun as the scene around him instantly changed. The stone walls of the courtyard vaporized and were instantly replaced with smooth crimson and purple draped elegantly curving architecture. The stone floor beneath him was replaced with plush carpeting and luxurious tile and golden railings.

He pulled his hand away quickly and instinctively as his mind struggled to catch up with his new surroundings. He stepped backwards and away from the orb in front of him, looking around to get his bearings. Quickly he realized he wasn't in Lordaeron any longer.

The curving, elegant designs draped and colored in crimson and gold, and the firebird sigils and motif which appeared frequently suggested he was in a chamber of Sindorei origin. When his stomach settled he saw that he was at the apex of a set of ramps on either side of him which led down into a larger, luxuriously decorated chamber which looked like it had been meant for royalty.

Slowly but casually so as to not attract much attention, he descended the ramp to his right and came to the floor of the room. The orb of translocation, he could see as he turned to look, had been placed on a ledge overlooking the cylindrical chamber. Posted at various points around the room were a token number of guards wearing ceremonial crimson and gold armor of elven make. They stood still as statues, watching him and everything else that might happen there. In their hands were long thin spears with sharp golden tipped heads.

And then he saw a face he certainly recognized. The elven leader's crimson eyepatch, long platinum hair, and facial scar from fighting for his people for most of his life were unmistakable. The man wore crimson leather and chain mail as he stood consulting with an underling whom Anduin did not recognize, though his expression was not one of a man about to enter combat, but of a ruler with hundreds of thousands if not millions of people to look after. It was an expression Anduin could relate to and respect.

Well, it's now or never. Anduin decided, and then, drawing himself up with his natural, regal bearing, he approached the elven Regent Lord.

"Regent Lord Theron." Anduin addressed him, causing the man to turn slightly to see who was addressing him.

The elven man's eyes went wide with confused recognition of the young man approaching him. Sensing something amiss, the previously statuesque guards moved quickly to surround the human with their spears faster than Anduin could process. He ceased his approach and waited for the elf to respond. Hands down at his side, his stance still projected strength and nobility even though physically threatened.

Lor'themar's face quickly recovered as he addressed his new "guest", "Anduin Wrynn, what an unexpected... pleasure." He told him, but making no move to dismiss his guards.

Anduin took it as a positive sign that he also made no move to unsheath the two handed blade he held in a harness at his back. Instead, he appeared intrigued. "To what does Silvermoon City owe the honor of a singular visit by the King of Stormwind?"

Calling up his own courage, and the nobility and authority to which he had been born, he gave a quick but silent plea to the Light and then said aloud, "I must speak with your Warchief. There are urgent matters which need to be discussed between us."

Lor'themar continued to study the younger man's face. "There are other channels which may be used than the direct approach for a meeting... Your majesty." He replied in a mild, mocking tone. "Perhaps your tutors in kingcraft neglected to mention them? The reason why one sends ambassadors is to keep themselves from the unenviable position of being placed in enemy hands, such as you yourself are now in."

"But are we truly enemies at this point, Regent Lord?" Anduin returned, using the tone of a diplomat. "Your Warchief has stood down the Horde's forces and so have we. Did we not agree in principle to work together?"

"Point taken. I seem to remember that we recently did." Lor'themar said, pausing for a minute and then waving his hand, gesturing for his guards to resume their former stations. "However, that does not make mine invalid. What are you doing here, alone especially? I was not aware that our relations with Stormwind had thawed to the point where unannounced social calls were the norm."

"It is no social call." Anduin replied. "And it may concern the Horde greatly as well if I am right. If you want there to be lasting peace between Horde and Alliance in Azeroth, then you will allow me to speak directly with Sylvanas Windrunner."

Lor'themar considered this intently before he responded. He could tell from the young man's eyes that it was no game that he was playing, and that necessity had driven him to somehow find and use the orb of translocation to bring him directly there. "Very well. Come with me if you please, your majesty."

The elven ruler gestured to Anduin to join him and they both started walking down a short hallway lined with exquisite elven art and carpeting.

Lor'themar continued, "The Warchief is still to the south spending time resolving a disagreement among our people. Come to think of it, perhaps your arrival is timely after all as it concerns that peace between us you have spoken of. Many of our people who have been restored by Jeshua's New Dawn don't remember the aftermath of the third war or the last thirty years. They don't remember the, ah, souring of our relations with the Alliance."

Anduin quickly understood the elf's problem. "And they all woke up to living in a Horde aligned kingdom."

"Precisely." Lor'themar replied. "Perhaps your presence could continue to ease their minds that we are not in fact at war with each other, and that hostility between us is totally unnecessary. If we cannot fully resolve this, I fear it may lead to a civil war which will destroy the elven lives which were just restored. Sindorei or Quel'dorei, we are all still the same people in spite of our politics." He then added, "I abhor politics." He almost spat the word as though it left a foul taste in his mouth.

The elven leader's tone of voice gained some genuine emotion as he said this and Anduin was inclined to believe he truly cared about what happened to the people of Quel'Thalas. He could imagine that a civil war was the last thing Lor'themar Theron would ever want for his people.

"As long as it doesn't compromise or harm the Alliance, I'll do what I can. You have my word." Anduin told him. "But I truly need to speak with Sylvanas."

"That is all I can reasonably ask, your majesty. Once upon a time our peoples were allies against a common enemy. Perhaps there is some hope for the future then." Lor'themar replied, a sincerity in his voice.

"That has always been my hope as well, your excellency." Anduin replied.

"To be honest, you are the second human I would consider of any importance to ask to see the Warchief today." The Regent Lord then told him in an offhanded manner.

"Oh?" Anduin asked as they turned into a side chamber.

The room they found themselves in was occupied by Sindorei wearing the robes of Mages and appearing to have just been waiting for someone to come and see them. Around the chamber were shelves full of old books, tomes, and scrolls. The air within the room crackled with ley energies.

"Yes, one of Jeshua's emissaries, a man named Thaddeus Jude came from Lordaeron earlier this morning with a message for Sylvanas he also said was extremely urgent, though he did not go into the details with me. I can only presume the Warchief will inform me if it concerns Quel'Thalas at all." He told him. Then he motioned to one of the Mages and told her, "You, open a portal to Tranquillien." He then added more politely, "Please, and follow behind."

The woman nodded and soon a swirling oval of sapphire energies had formed in front of them. Lor'themar then motioned in a gentlemanly, inviting gesture as he said, "After you."

Anduin then stepped through and found himself instantly transported yet once more as he stepped from thick carpeted flooring to cracked but paved elven road in the center of a Quel'dorei town that had begun the process of crumbling many, many years before and was only now undergoing repairs to its structures. Behind him, as he stepped out of the way, the elven lord followed. The Mage who had opened the portal was the last to step through before it closed once more.

Around him, High Elves of nearly every shape and size (as much as that varied among them) were moving around the town, talking to one another and observing those coming and going. Anduin felt dozens of pairs of elvish eyes on him as he appeared, though he doubted any would recognize him.

"Come, this way." Lor'themar told him. "If I am not mistaken, she will be in the meeting hall at this hour at the table with her sisters."

"Her sisters?" Anduin asked, knowing only a little about Sylvanas' family history.

"Yes. Vereesa and Alleria, whom I believe you know." The Regent Lord commented.

"The one who convinced me to bring the Void Elves in as allies, yes. I know of her." Anduin replied, his voice uneasy. It had been practitioners of the Void which had attacked him, of this he was certain. "I am now not so certain that was wisdom." He commented.

"I don't think you'll find any argument on that point from anyone here now, least of all Alleria Windrunner herself." The elven leader returned. "The emissary of Jeshua that traveled with the Warchief here the other day somehow purged the Void from her and her retinue entirely. I admit I have never seen anything like it in my life, and I have seen many, many things."

"Really?" Anduin asked. This was news to him, and welcome news if it was true.

"I saw it with my own good eye." Lor'themar assured him as they entered the large, white and gold building on the east side of the road. "Alleria has since told us that she has not been in control of herself since the Void took possession of her on Argus."

Inside, a table had been set up, but those who were meant to be seated at it were standing near one another instead. Several pages of light parchment paper were being passed back and forth between three elven women, one of whom Anduin recognized as the Warchief of the Horde, one Vereesa, her sister whom he had met on more official occasions involving the Silver Covenant and the Alliance, and of course the eldest Windrunner sister, Alleria. Next to Sylvanas was standing a mousy brown haired human man in plain, unadorned linen robes and bare feet. They were paying no attention to the entryway.

"Is this all there is?" Sylvanas inquired of the human man, speaking in Thalassian, her voice sounded urgent and unsettled.

"Yes, my queen." The man replied in the same tongue, clearly deferential to the elven woman. "This is everything Amerian wrote down from the vision he received."

"It sounds like Night Elf religious babble." Vereesa said aloud. "I have known many good Kaldorei of various disciplines, but their visions and religion aren't always trustworthy."

"I don't trust the Night Elf religion either, but do I trust this man, and what he says." Sylvanas replied. "If he says this vision is true, then I must take it seriously."

"But wouldn't the shamans and the Earthen Ring know first about something like this?" Alleria asked.

"I don't know. But I believe King Anduin will need to be informed as well. This affects all of us. We need to warn him and the Alliance." Sylvanas replied.

Then Anduin stepped forward and asked fluently using the elven language he had been tutored in since a small child, "I will need to be informed of what, Sylvanas?"

All heads turned towards the young blond human man who had just entered the chamber. Just then Anduin realized how much the Windrunner sisters really resembled each other. They were not triplets as far as he knew, but they could have been. All gave surprised, shocked looks at his sudden appearance.

Sylvanas was the first to recover, shaking her head as if to snap herself back to the present. "I would ask what you are doing here, but as it stands your arrival is fortunate." She told him, and then thrust the pages they had been passing back and forth towards him. "Read this. One of Jeshua's emissaries had a vision last night and wrote down everything he was instructed. If it is true, all of our disagreements, petty or not, are now meaningless in the face of what's coming."

"What is coming?" Anduin asked soberly.

"The end of our world." The Warchief replied.

Her expression was hard and serious as she spoke. He took the pages from her and began to read. As he worked his way through the incredible first person narrative his own expression grew more and more serious as well.

"Holy Light." He exclaimed as he read, coming to the end of the last page. "This can't be real." He said, though his tone of voice suggested otherwise. "If it is..."

"May I?" Lor'themar then asked from next to where the King of Stormwind then stood, reaching out politely. Anduin handed the pages to him, and he too began to read.

Anduin's mind raced with the implications. Elune never really speaks like this, and she never manifests to anyone in a physical form. It was something he had been told once about her worship by Tyrande Whisperwind, the High Priestess of the moon goddess's temple and leader of the Kaldorei. But it had been one of Jeshua's emissaries who had seen this vision, and there was no real question anymore in his mind of their legitimacy or power.

And then his mind turned to someone who may know the truth about it, an old friend who kept one ear to the ground where Azeroth was concerned and who had warned them before when she was in trouble. The only question was how to find him, and if he wanted to be found. He tended to show up in unexpected places.

"This is... incredible to say the least." Lor'themar pronounced. "But I'm not sure how much stock I would place in Night Elf religious ramblings either. In this at least, I would tend to agree with Vereesa."

"And if it is true, and we do nothing? What then?" Sylvanas told him.

"There may be a way to verify what this emissary has written." Anduin then spoke up once more. "But we would need to find King Magni Bronzebeard once more. He has warned us before when Azeroth's world soul has been in distress, and he's always been right. If anyone would know what was happening with her, it would be him."

"That could take days or weeks that we may not have." Sylvanas insisted. "There are millions of people on this world and only a very few, mostly from Lordaeron, have taken Jeshua's pact." She then turned to the human man and asked, "Is this the only copy of this vision?" To which he replied, "No. This is the second copy Amerian transcribed. The original is still in Lordaeron City with the others."

Hearing this, Sylvanas then turned to Lor'themar and assuming a posture of authority towards him as his Warchief instructed him, "Take these pages and have Silvermoon's scribes and Mages make as many copies as possible. Translate them into every language spoken on this planet and make them ready to distribute throughout our territories immediately." As an afterthought she added, "Do the same with Amerian's previous book about Jeshua as well. Not all of our people may know anything about him."

"I would advise caution, Warchief." Lor'themar then told her, holding up his hands as though trying to slow her down. "If this is just Night Elf nonsense, we and Jeshua's followers would look like fools when it does not come true. It would be better to wait and..."

Anduin watched as Sylvanas' expression hardened even further and her eyes grew dark as she glared at the Regent Lord and an echo of the Banshee Queen she had been crossed her beautiful elven features twisting them into something that would make a seasoned warrior quake in his armor. When she spoke, her voice was carefully controlled but filled with a cold anger. It was not raised, but every word felt like an arrow from her bow striking as it left her mouth. "I would rather do something and be a fool, than do nothing and be a monster. I have been a monster before, Lor'themar. I have murdered men, women, and children in cold blood without a hint of feeling or remorse. I know how to do that very well. Jeshua gave me another chance. I don't intend to waste it. Print the damn books and follow my orders."

What color there was drained from Lor'themar's face as he felt her eyes bore into him, every word like an arrow finding its mark and forcefully reminding him of to whom he was speaking, a woman who, at one time, had no compunctions or remorse about slaughtering her own kind when they dared to side with the Alliance instead of the Horde.

Hesitating as though stunned for several seconds, Lor'themar then responded, "Yes, Warchief. It will be done as you command."

She then turned her frightening gaze to Anduin and asked, "Now, what do you need to find your diamond dwarf?"