c17

In Stranglethorn Vale...

The air was hot and humid in the interior of the rainforest in the southern reaches of the Eastern Kingdoms, even at night. It made the troll priest's deep blue skin slick with sweat as he performed the ritual close to the heat of a brazier with emerald flames. His eyes closed as if in a trance, he continued to chant the words of the dark supplication. Around him were half a dozen others of his brethren, all dressed lightly in the native cloth, feathers, and skins which were traditional for their people. They all stood at points forming a circle along with the Warlocks, some Troll, some Orc, who had drawn the summoning runes around the fel fire which stood in the center of the circle.

They had chosen the walls of the old Troll ruins to perform their rites without interruption. All present knew that their less enlightened brothers and sisters in the Horde wouldn't understand what they were doing and would try to stop them, violently so. But the spirits were clear, this was the only way to prevent the catastrophe which they said was coming.

Overhead, the night sky was darkened and overcast, unnatural violet lightning flashed across the clouds violently. They had been calling on dark powers for well over an hour, and did not know how much longer it would take. But they would quit when they were finished and not before.

The dark spirits had made that clear to them too, the voices they heard pushing them and encouraging them that this was the only way. The spirits had become insistent and maniacal that such drastic measures had to be taken if they were to survive, and they the dark practitioners had to work together.

Suddenly, slowly, though he could not feel it, a tiny point of darkness surrounded by an amethyst glow emerged above the fire. The point of darkness expanded slowly, ripping a tear in the very fabric of space as they continued their chanting and concentration. The tear grew like an inky black puddle turned on its side until it consumed the brazier and everything in its way.

Sensing the encroaching Shadow, the Troll Shadow Priest opened his eyes to see the fruits of their labor. Around him, the others who had focused their efforts did the same, watching intently.

"Da Shadow, it comes now." He said, watching.

Above them, thunder rumbled as the dark lightning flashed once more.

A figure emerged from the Void tear, an inky, semi-humanoid creature that radiated darkness. And then another one followed, and then another. The voidwalkers continued to come through the portal which had been so generously opened for them.

As they did, the Warlocks attempted to dominate them and bring them under their control, using their command of the fel energies to punish and discipline them into obedience. They had been told that they would need this army of darkness to beat back the encroachment of the Light and save Azeroth.

His eyes hardened, and his expression grim, with an evil smile the Troll nodded to his Shadow brothers. And then, without warning, each of the Shadow Priests present quickly drew sharp daggers and stabbed the surprised and outraged Warlocks. Exhausted from the effort expended, they were too slow to react and fell dead, their blood staining the hard packed dirt floor of the ruins.

And the minions of the Void continued to flow through the tear unchecked.

Similar scenes played out dozens of times over across the face of Azeroth as Void tears were opened in jungles, deserts, forests, caves, ancient temples and ruins, snowy mountains, and valleys around the world. The Void had no more time. It would make its final assault upon the sleeping Titan directly. Azeroth could not be allowed to awaken. She could not be allowed to continue to exist at all.

In Elwynn Forest...

The three men, a Paladin, a King, and a plainly robed emissary of Jeshua stepped out of the shining upright puddle of sapphire colored energy and set both booted and bare feet firmly in the soil of their birth. They had emerged in the woods just to the east of the main highway, and the paved road could be seen through the trees. It was in the afternoon, but the forest didn't have the warmth and cheer which the men had remembered, and the sun was overcast and couldn't be seen. Instead it felt gloomy and chill. It was the fourth day after Magni had come to deliver his warning and each was keenly aware of it.

An emotion passed through each one of them as they gazed on the woods, fields, and farms of their native country. The thatch roofed buildings of the town of Goldshire could be seen not far away from them to the south. To the north in the distance beyond the canopy of forest trees lay Stormwind City. An ominous gathering of unnaturally black storm clouds appeared in the sky over where they knew the city would be.

A single tear appeared in the eye of the Highlord of the Silver Hand. It had been many years since he had returned to the land of his birth. He wished it could have been under better circumstances. Next to him, Anduin Wrynn stood with a look of determination in his eye which was shared by Grayson Shadowbreaker, the last to emerge through the portal, whose eyes were turned towards the capital a look of apprehension in them.

Grayson had volunteered among his fellow emissaries to take a riding bat to the home of the Sanctum of Light from Lordaeron City with the intention of requesting the help of the Silver Hand for a very different purpose than his original requests had been. He arrived at Light's Hope Chapel after nearly a full day of flight only to find the order of holy knights mobilizing for the very same purpose he intended to ask of them as though an unseen hand was guiding them all to the same conclusion. He had not expected to find Thaddeus Jude there. There had been no word from Silvermoon City to Lordaeron when he left concerning the queen's response to Amerian's vision.

In truth, he had expected his presence to be distrusted and turned away by his former brothers until he could be given the chance to explain. Instead, his arrival had been brought to the Highlord's attention immediately, and he had been ushered into his presence at once. There he had met with Thaddeus who spoke up for him, and had already related the radical change that occurred within him to the Paladin leader and the way in which he had already proven his allegiances in Tranquillien. After messages had been sent back to Lordaeron coordinating their plans, remembering Jeshua's words to him, he had elected to return to Elwynn Forest along with the Highlord and the King.

The ground beneath their feet trembled slightly, reinforcing the urgency of their mission. Magni Bronzebeard hadn't known how long they had, but he didn't encourage them to take their time. A timetable of months or possibly even weeks did not appear to be in the cards for the people of Azeroth.

"Is it possible to ask her to delay it for as long as possible?" The Highlord had asked the crystallized dwarf, thinking about the scope and magnitude of the problem.

"Tha's like askin' a wee babe to hold off on bein' born, lad. She ain't got no control over it." Had been his response.

"How long do we have?" The Paladin had questioned him. "Weeks, months, years?"

"The way she was talkin', I wouldna be makin' any plans for next week if I was you." Magni had retorted, underscoring his point.

Many miles away, more human Paladins would be emerging through portals or arriving by flying mounts near the towns of Lakeshire to the east, Darkshire to the south, and the fortress of Sentinel Hill in Westfall to the west. The same would be occuring with their dwarven brothers in Dun Morogh, the Wetlands, Loch Modan, the Twilight Highlands and the Hinterlands. The Sindorei Blood Knights returned to Quel'thalas. The former Death Knights restored to the Light volunteered to head into Northrend. The Draenei Vindicators and Justicars went back to the Azuremyst Isles and also volunteered to travel to Pandaria, and the Sunwalkers to Mulgore and the Barrens. The Moonfangs, Delas and her uncle Nerus, would travel to Teldrassil and meet up with the emissary Syloren informing him of the situation and requesting his aide among the Kaldorei. Argent Crusade infantry Orcs, not Paladins but with noble hearts as though they were and who had witnessed Jeshua's teachings and power in Hearthglen, had traveled to the Alterac Valley where the Frostwolf Clan dwelt and also to Durotar, voluntarily obeying the Light's call to save as many of their people as possible. All had been given the power to consecrate the cup by Jeshua's emissary, Thaddeus Jude who had personally given Jeshua's gift to each and every one including the young squires of the order who had volunteered. They would be stretched thin across the world if they were to hit every settlement, town, and city, and every willing person was consecrated knowing the risk and the responsibility they bore. They all knew their mission, explain Jeshua's pact and Azeroth's awakening and offer the cup of the pact without prejudice to race, Class, creed, or politics. Don't force it on anyone, but make it available to everyone.

The Order of the Silver Hand had become an army of missionaries with an urgent message to the world. Every one of its members felt the tick of the clock with each passing minute and knew that time was running out.

"Good, we're closest to Goldshire." Anduin said, taking stock of where they were. He looked towards his home in Stormwind first, but then his eyes drifted south to the visible rooftops and buildings, knowing that there were hundreds of people in the small provincial town. "We should head there first."

"I don't like the look of that storm to the north. There's something unnatural about it." The Highlord commented, his gaze turning towards the city. He had more than his fair share of experiences with powerful dark magic, many of which had almost claimed his life.

"None of this feels right, my lord." Grayson told him. "The air itself feels wrong, like it wants to choke me even as I breathe it in."

The three men began to move through the trees and onto the road. Thick inky shadows crept all around them as they moved around the brush of the forest floor. All three men had the distinct feeling that hostile eyes were on them even when they could see no one.

The Argent Crusade Mage which had opened the portal for them had tried to set them near Goldshire discreetly because of Anduin's presence. The King had not wanted to announce his return openly by appearing publicly in Stormwind just yet. He still did not know who had betrayed him and who he could trust there. Gossip and news from Stormwind usually found its way into the human village by way of the Lion's Pride Inn, the center of life in the hamlet, quickly, and Anduin wanted more information on what had happened since last he was in the city.

They stepped out onto the road and turned to face south towards the hamlet. Grayson couldn't help but notice that the dark shadows that watched them from the forest followed them unnaturally as they set foot on the highway, a cold malevolent feeling radiating off of them.

His own battle instincts alert, he warned the other two men, "Behind us."

The young monarch turned to face what threat Grayson spoke of when the Highlord returned, gesturing to the road ahead of them, "Not just behind us, look."

When the emissary turned to look, inky black shadows from the surrounding woods had coalesced and lifted themselves from the surfaces they had been on taking several burly and large, barely humanoid shapes as well as some that appeared small alien and perverse as they dragged themselves along the ground. More followed, streaming out from the surrounding darkness of the forest.

The Highlord drew his warhammer, preparing for the fight with the darkness, and Anduin drew his father's sword, Shalamayne from its leather wraps on his back holding it inexpertly in a two handed combat stance. The memory of such creatures of darkness came back to the Paladin lord from his campaign on Argus, and the chill, maddening feeling of unholy Shadow he encountered when he had been bidden to step through a rift and enter the Void itself to combat the horrors that lay within.

Grayson watched weaponless as the Void creatures came threateningly closer to them, and more followed behind them. He silently cursed himself for not at least taking a hammer or a sword from the Sanctum of Light's armory. He felt useless against such numbers without his armor and warhammer which had been a part of him since his youth.

There are too many! He thought. Even if I had my hammer, we would be overrun!

And then a familiar presence brushed calmly against his mind and heart.

Not by might, nor by strength of arms will you win this battle, but by my Light alone. Jeshua's familiar, calm voice came to him even as his own battle instincts flared and he clenched his hands feeling for a weapon that wasn't there. The true fight has never been against flesh and blood enemies you can strike with a hammer or sword. Darkness can only be destroyed by Light.

Grayson then looked to Anduin and the Paladin Highlord, each with weapon drawn towards the manifest shadow creatures. The King of Stormwind began to shine with the shield he had seen other Priests wield in battle, and the Highlord as well had called on the Light using the Paladin disciplines, his own presence radiating with it as it traveled into his warhammer, energizing it. They would be able to destroy some of their attackers between them using their respective disciplines, but not all. He did not know if they heard what he had, but if they did there was no sign of it in their eyes as the recognition of their predicament was seen clearly in them.

If I don't fight this battle for you, then you will all be overcome regardless of your combined strength. Jeshua's voice came to him again.

"Hold!" Grayson cried out awkwardly to those with him, not certain of what else to say. "The fight belongs to the Holy Light! We can't win this with force of arms!"

Hesitating, Anduin and the Highlord drew back closer to Grayson until all three were standing back to back with one another as more of the Shadowy forms poured from the forest around them as though directed by some mind they could not see. Anduin's shield expanded to encompass all of them as the first of the creatures reached them and began pounding on it, burning themselves against the Light even as they threatened to drain Anduin's concentration in prayer.

"I can't keep this up for long!" Anduin shouted.

"My lord, whatever you're going to do..." Grayson began to say in a low voice, addressing neither of the two men at his back, but the Light which had spoken to him.

Let go and let me work through you once more Grayson, you and I together. Jeshua's voice came to him again.

As he did in the meeting hall in Tranquillien, Grayson let go, silently affirming, I am yours to command, my liege.

And then the King of Stormwind and the Paladin Highlord watched as Grayson then crouched down and put the open palm of his right hand against the paved ground of the road.

"What are you...?" Anduin asked as though a madness had taken over the man.

And then pure, Holy Light streamed from where Grayson's palm made contact with the earth beneath him. It wrapped itself around the three men like a hardened dome which could not be penetrated as it flowed into Anduin restoring and renewing the shield he had called on and magnifying it well beyond the King's own abilities and faith. From there, its glory radiated out across the road and deep into the forest beyond in an ever widening circumference among the trees and brush. Everywhere the Light went, Void creatures burst into golden white flames and dissolved into nothingness as the ground beneath them and beyond them was aggressively consecrated. The Light purged and cleansed everything it touched, radiating up from the surface of the ground and cleansing the very air around them as well until it was fresh and sweet.

Soon, the Void creatures which had surrounded them ceased to be until there was no trace of them left, and the Light faded once more from around them leaving the three men alone in the middle of the highway. Two of them stood as if stunned and unable to move at the sight of what had just occurred.

Grayson then stood from where he had been crouching with his hand against the ground and faced the other two men. For the briefest of moments, neither the King nor the Highlord appeared to recognize the former Paladin as they looked at him amazed and with a kind of of them knew what to say or how to address what they had seen.

And then that moment passed, and the Highlord, snapping back to the present, exclaimed to him, "Never have I seen any of our Order use the Light's consecration so powerfully."

"It was nothing from me." Grayson responded humbly, and then said, "Let's go. If the Void had this many of these things here just waiting for us, the people of Goldshire are in more immediate danger than we believed."

But neither of the other two men moved as they continued to stare at him.

"How did you do that?" Anduin asked directly. "I have followed the Priestly discipline since I was a boy, trained under the Prophet Velen himself, and I have never seen such a command of the Light as this from anyone."

"I told you, I did nothing. Jeshua asked me to surrender myself to him and I did as he said. I cooperated, but was almost as much of a spectator as you." Grayson replied. "It had nothing to do with the magics I used as a Paladin. I did not command the Light, I willingly gave myself up to its will and it used me as it saw fit. If I had tried to exert my own will over the Light, it would not have been possible. I was a conduit, nothing more."

Grayson didn't know if the other two men would understand his explanation. He didn't know if he understood it fully himself. He hadn't looked for it, and had actively worked against Jeshua before he had been chosen to work for him. All he could do was honor his oath and obey the will of the Light.

"We need to move." The Highlord finally said, motioning with his hammer towards the village just south of them. "We came here to save as many as possible. We can discuss this more on the way."

The other two men agreed and they started quickly for the village.

In Dolanaar of Teldrassil...

The great tree shook briefly beneath Syloren's bare lavender colored feet before it subsided again that evening. It was the third such tremor in the last two days of travel across the enchanted treetop world. Tremors in the earth beneath the elven world tree were always felt more keenly up in the enchanted land which rested high in its branches, but they had never before been this frequent in that corner of Azeroth.

The two elderly humans, Jacob and Martha Davidson had made good company for the former Demon Hunter upon his return "home". He had called it home, but in truth, Dolanaar had been only just being built when he had left to follow Illidan's call. He had made his home there after the Legion's attack on Mount Hyjal along with his brother who argued vociferously against Syloren's leaving to follow the outcast Stormrage brother. Dolanaar was "home" because, as far as he knew, that was where his brother was.

His own people had called his former master "the Great Betrayer" for his radical views so not in keeping with the druidic ideology of the Kaldorei who had survived the Sundering. Syloren had followed him because he believed he understood what Illidan had. The Legion would stop at nothing to destroy Azeroth, and it would take those who would stop at nothing to save it even sacrificing their very souls if need be. He had made his pact and taken out his own eyes with the demon's flame believing that he could make a difference even if it meant his death, and had also done so believing that it would. What was his life or even soul worth if their world would be lost to the demonic host? In the end, Illidan and his Illidari had proved themselves against the Burning Legion until it was ground into the dust and Sargeras defeated once and for all, jailed for eternity by the Titans and watched over by the Demon Hunter's master.

Syloren miraculously had survived the war they had fought against an impossible enemy, and then found that in sacrificing everything to win that war and expecting to die, he had not been prepared to return home and live. It had only taken a few short years before the demon within him became uncontainable.

And then, just as he had given up his fight and the demon took over, the human Shan'do appeared and cleansed him, giving him back his life and restoring to him a peace he had not known for decades. He demanded nothing from the Night Elf and taught him a way of peace and compassion he had not known, ultimately proving that he too knew what it would take to win the war he was, in his own way, fighting.

There is no great victory without great sacrifice. Illidan had taught Syloren that. The human king, Varian Wrynn had understood that too when he gave his life to save as many of his troops as he could from the Broken Shore. Jeshua had shown that he understood it as well. From his risking his own life to purge the demon from him, to allowing himself to be captured by the Forsaken even knowing what they did to their human prisoners, to when Syloren's human Shan'do had allowed himself to be killed and placed into the ground like a seed meant to heal the whole world. He had won victory after victory, not for himself but for everyone else, by being willing to sacrifice himself and that had spoken to the Night Elf over and over again like no one since Illidan had.

Syloren had been glad to tell Shan'do Jeshua's story to his grandparents as they journeyed into Darnassus and then through to the main road that ran east through Teldrassil's insular world, hidden from most outsiders. They were good humored for humans, and marveled at what he told them.

When they had reached Dolanaar, he had initially told the two humans he was not certain how he would be received given how he and his brother had parted. They had not spoken for thirty years, and he had not attempted to travel to Dolanaar after the war; he only going as far as Darnassus before he realized he and his Illidari brothers and sisters were not truly welcome there any longer regardless of their sacrifices or contributions. They were regarded as "ticking time bombs" by most of Teldrassil's population, and not without justification.

"Keldamyr may not wish to see me." He had told them. "We did not part well last we saw each other."

The argument had been loud and angry, Syloren remembered. Go! Follow that heretic and traitor if you want! I want no part of it or you! His brother's words had stung as he remembered them. He had stormed away in a rage and had not seen him since.

The human man, Jacob Davidson had looked at the tall Kaldorei man with a paternal smile and put his hand on his shoulder saying, "All brothers argue at some point. That doesn't make them any less family. You need to at least let him know you're okay. If I was him, I'd want to know anyways."

"You are wise for one so young, Jacob Davidson." Syloren had responded to him. This brought a laugh from the gray haired, wrinkled human.

Where Darnassus incorporated the ancient stone and marble structures of the Kaldorei along side the wooden arches and tile roofed architecture integrated into living trees, Dolanaar would have none of the reminders of the more "civilized" time in their history. It was a much smaller town marked by violet colored shingle roofed buildings integrated into the living forest around them. In keeping with the druidic philosophy which dominated Night Elf culture, nature ruled and thrived alongside the habitations. Tall trees could be seen with alcoves, porches, and ramps fluidly growing in harmony around the constructions. The largest structure, the inn and common house, sat at the base of a great tree, the roots of which had been shaped to form the pillers and foundations of the building.

He and the Davidsons ascended the ramp into the inn to inquire after his brother. The interior of the structure felt warm, earthy, and inviting even as it remained widely open to the outside air from the gabled entries. It did not carry the old, damp smell of dead wood and stone that many human and dwarven structures did. Instead it smelled of living things and carried the fragrant aroma of the tree which grew in symbiosis with it. Several townspeople, Kaldorei like himself, carried on with their business in the various corners of the inn, and several merchants stood behind a counter off to their left as he and the elderly humans entered.

After approaching and asking a merchant selling leather garments, he had been informed that Keldamyr was the name of the man who operated the inn and could be found checking the guests' sleeping loft at that moment. He then asked the two humans who had drawn a few quizzical but not unfriendly looks from the inn's patrons to wait there while he went to speak with him.

"It may be best if I spoke with my brother alone at first." Syloren had told them.

"Of course, dear." Martha Davidson had responded kindly. "You take all the time you need. We're not going anywhere."

Syloren had then ascended the ramp up to the floor where several wooden frame beds had been placed, their cloth covered mattresses stuffed with owl feathers and tufts of fur. There were no separate rooms like in human inns. His people chose to live in harmony with the outdoors and with nature, and did not try to shield themselves from it or close themselves off from each other. The sleeping loft was empty except for a single Night Elf man who held a broom in his hands as he worked to sweep accumulated dust and dirt from the wooden floorboard.

The man was clean shaven but had Syloren's shade of emerald colored hair. He wore a short sleeved burgundy tunic covered in green leaves at the shoulders and a similarly colored kilt. Well worn sandals adorned the innkeeper's feet. Nearby on a stand sat a lantern glowing with a faerie light peculiar to his people's usage.

"Greetings, friend." The innkeeper said as he heard Syloren's footfalls on the floorboards, though he did not turn around. "I'm almost done here and then the loft will be ready for use."

Syloren hesitated before responding. He had thought of this moment many times in the last three decades and what he might say. Haltingly, he managed to say, "Greetings, brother."

The innkeeper froze upon hearing his voice, the broom halting so suddenly that one might be forgiven for thinking it had been stunned with a spell. Keldamyr did not respond right away, but slowly stood up straight. It took several more seconds before he chose to turn around to confirm what he thought he had heard.

"Syloren?" Keldamyr asked, his broom still in his left hand. The expression on his face shifted several times, many emotions surfacing before being buried again to be replaced by new ones. "Is that really you?"

"It is." Syloren responded.

"I thought you went to follow Illidan. I thought you became one of his 'Illidari'." The man said as he gazed at his brother, but made no move to approach him. He used the term as though it were a dirty word. "I saw one of them in Darnassus not long ago, more demon than elf, but I don't see that in you now. More than one of them lost control and turned on our own people."

"I was." Syloren told him, his own expression saddened as his brother spoke. "It was the human Shan'do Jeshua who cleansed the demon from me. I am as you see me now, no more and no less."

Keldamyr appeared to consider that, a skeptical look in his eyes. "Well, what are you doing here now?" He asked.

"I wanted to see you. I wanted to..." Syloren paused trying to collect his thoughts. "I wanted to let you know I was alive and whole before I moved on. I had hoped... I had hoped to at least try and reconcile, brother. I am sorry if I was mistaken to come. I won't trouble you any further if you don't wish to see me."

His brother paused for a minute, looking down at the floor to collect his thoughts before responding.

"I heard about what the Illidari did during the war, how many of them died fighting to turn the tide." Keldamyr then told him. "I heard that we might have lost if it weren't for them. I still don't think you should have gone chasing after the Betrayer, but I suppose what I heard he did too means maybe I didn't know everything I thought I did." He then added, "I'm glad you didn't meet the same fate."

Syloren nodded. "I lost many good friends to both the Legion and to the demon's blood. I didn't expect to live through it either, but that was the choice I made to fight for our world."

The innkeeper didn't argue as Syloren might have expected.

"How long are you planning on staying this time?" Keldamyr then asked, his expression only softening slightly.

"In truth, I don't know. I had wanted to see you before continuing my new work here in Teldrassil." He responded. "I have a new calling, brother. I seek to teach people about the ways of the human Shan'do, Jeshua Lightborn, the one responsible for the New Dawn."

Keldamyr leaned over on his broom in thought, taking a deep breath and then sighing before he responded. "I have heard of this human. Not long ago he was found teaching heresy in Darnassus near the temple before the sentinels made him leave. You continue in your trend of chasing after those unwelcome among our people."

"Perhaps." Syloren conceded. "But it is because of him that I am able to stand here today and tell you this at all. I owe my life to him and so much more. It is only a small way to repay him by spreading his message."

Keldamyr then took his broom and set it against one of the living walls of the sleeping loft and made to stand directly in front of his brother facing him and looking him in the eyes. Syloren did not know what to expect next from his words and body language.

"I misunderstood you before, brother, and misunderstood what you were trying to do. I am grateful to have the chance to tell you this, no matter who gave us that chance." Keldamyr told him. And then the Night Elf innkeeper embraced his brother, drawing him tightly to himself. "I may not agree with you, but I do not want to make the same mistake again of not listening to you. I have learned to regret that mistake for thirty years. I do not want to regret it for thirty more." He then told him. "You are welcome here in my home. I will listen to your words about this human Shan'do who cleansed you, but I cannot promise to agree with you."

Stunned, Syloren almost didn't know how to respond, but then returned his brother's embrace saying, "Thank you. I have much to tell you."