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In the Maker's Overlook, Sholazar Basin in Northrend...

Magni!

"Tha' canna be right." Magni Bronzebeard said to himself as he walked through the halls of the Maker's Overlook. The ancient Titan facility, built high into the solid stone of the protective walls of the jungles of Sholazar Basin, was tens of millennia old at least and had been used as a both a research outpost for the development of life on Azeroth by the powerful, godlike beings, and as a place to speak to their "sister" who continued to sleep at the heart of Magni's world.

The voice had been clear and distinct. Except for himself, the only other "beings" in the Titan facility were the automaton guardians who, though a great bunch of robots, weren't usually the conversational type. The Light knew he had tried, it being a little lonely since his transformation into solid diamond in order to commune with the planet's soul. No, the voice he had heard was lyrical, like a beautiful song he could listen to all day. It was also familiar to him. Unmistakably familiar.

But it had never been so distinct, or so clear. And he hadn't heard it apart from the hall of communion deep within the structure, and its Titan made equipment for speaking with the world soul. Magni regularly used that equipment to check on his charge and see how she was doing. In the space of the many years since he had assumed his diamond form, Azeroth and he had struck up a kind of friendship or even kinship, he had felt.

He knew she'd been feeling better over the last couple of months. He didn't know all the details, but he knew the Holy Light had healed her in a big way starting somewhere in Lordaeron. Her nightmares and pain had disappeared, and she wasn't scared anymore either. Instead, she'd been sounding stronger and happier than he'd known her to be in years, and it did his Dwarf's heart glad to know it. But he'd always needed the Titan equipment to really understand what she wanted to say to him.

When she called his name this time however, it was as clear as though she was standing next to him in the upper levels of the facility. He had been going for a short walk when he heard her, wanting to stretch his legs a little. It was weird to him that he felt the need to, being now completely crystal, but there it was. When he heard the voice it made him stop where he was.

"Azeroth, is tha' you, lass?" He asked into the otherwise empty space of the Titan facility.

Magni, you need to warn my children! The voice came to him again, clear as a bell.

"Hammers below, lass! How're you talkin' to me like this?" He asked, surprised. "I can hear ya loud 'n clear." And then he registered what she said. "Warn them o' what?"

Magni, it's time! I'm waking up! He's coming! She told him, her voice more excited than fearful.

"Slow down, lass!" Magni replied, his voice becoming somewhat paternal towards the millennia old Titan. Nevertheless, he was alarmed as he began to move as quickly as he could. heading back into the bowels of the facility towards the hall of communion. "Wha' d'ya mean? Who's coming? Let me get t' the device so ye can show me what yer tryin' t' say."

My husband is coming! She responded, a joy radiating through her words. He's coming for me!

Magni quickened his pace as his diamond crystal feet moved across the metal walkways. Husband? Tha's the first I've heard o' it. He thought, a twinge of protective jealousy running through him. It felt similar to when he learned of his daughter Moira's foolishness with that Dark Iron husband of hers. 'Course she wasn't in no condition to chat 'bout much besides how bad she felt 'til recently neither. Still, sounds like somethin' she's happy 'bout so I can be too I s'pose.

Magni reached the Titan constructed console and began working the controls. "Alright, lass. Show me what's got ye all worked up."

He had expected some hazy, indistinct images and mostly feelings like most of the previous times before. That was not what he received this time. Clear, crisp images of a time long ago, a human like man made of Holy Light just as Magni was made of diamond, and the planet cracking open like an egg to reveal the most radiant, matronly, Light filled woman he had ever laid eyes on. She had skin like a deep azure sapphire and long hair, bright green as fresh grass. She appeared first to him like one of the Night Elves with her tall refined features and long tapered ears, and then in the next instant she had Trollish features, and then again she looked to be human until he realized she was all of these races and more, her features shifting to appear as the native peoples of his world combined into one. Her eyes burned with Light, one silver and one golden which both danced with joyous laughter as she smiled broadly like a virgin bride on her wedding day. She appeared barefoot and her arms and shoulders were also exposed, and wearing a light dress which shimmered with mountains, forests, and green valleys, Mount Hyjal in Kalimdor assuming her left breast, and Highmountain in the Broken Isles the right. A crown of thick, fluffy white clouds sat around her head. She reached out her arms to welcome the Lightborn man, and then Magni's mind's eye was filled with pure, streaming Light burning away all traces of the Void that had threatened her very existence for so long, and a new world formed from their union to take the place of the one which had been torn apart by her new birth, a world without shadows or corruption. A tremor ran through the dwarf's crystalline structure as he witnessed the Titan's thoughts. Had he tear ducts any longer, they would have been streaming for the beauty and majesty of what she showed him.

They can't hear my voice like you can, Magni. You have to warn my children. My time has come.

Magni was silent for several minutes, unable to speak or respond at what the world soul had shown him. When he was finally able to speak he answered, "Aye, lass. I'll warn them. But what do I say? If what you've shown me is true, there's nothin' any mortal can do without harmin' ye 'n we'd be doomin' ourselves anyway if we did. It's a no win for us."

My husband's plan. She responded. He planned for this. He made a way for them to escape. He made a way for them to be adopted. Tell my children, please. I don't want to lose them. Azeroth pleaded with him, her voice heartbreaking as she referred to those mortals on his world as "my children."

Magni listened, trying to think of what to do and how to help both his world and her people. He didn't know what she meant by "adopted" but maybe someone else might. He wasn't worried for himself. His diamond form was so hard and durable it could survive virtually any cataclysm which might engulf the planet. He didn't even need air to breathe or food to eat, really. He could survive even out in the Great Dark without a world and its environment to protect him.

Aye, but not everyone's as indestructible as me neither. What about me daughter, Moira, 'n Muradin me brother? He thought, then his thoughts extended to all the dwarves of Ironforge, most of whom were his kin in some form or another. I couldna go on like tha'. But where do I even start?

The image of a familiar man came into his crystalline head. He was a dedicated Paladin, and had worked with Magni before, during the Legion war. If anyone could help, it would be him.

"Alright, lass. I'll do wha' I can. There's a good man I know who can help I hope. He'll know more 'bout what's happenin' in the outside world, anyways. He came through for us when you warned us last time 'bout Argus 'n the Titans, anyways." He answered her.

My thanks... dearest Magni. She replied, and then her voice faded as though tired from the effort expended to talk to him in that way.

After she said no more, thoughts rushed through Magni's mind coming up with and discarding ideas. He left the hall of communion and made his way to the Titan's teleportation device within the facility, making preparations for a trip to the far east of Lordaeron. Last he knew, the man who had helped them before had become the Silver Hand's new Highlord.

In Stormwind City...

Gakin the Darkbinder stood in the back of the shadowy sanctuary of Stormwind's Cathedral looking towards the altar. Violet runes and sigils glowed in an unfamiliar pattern on the stained marble floor as Shadow users, human and elven, robed in black and midnight blue conducted their rituals. Next to him was a towering, crimson skinned Nathrezim with jet black horns that he had dominated and drawn from the Twisting Nether to serve him. His bat's wings were drawn back behind him like a wicked cloak, his ebony black hooves clacked and echoed against the marble floor as he walked behind his master, drawing up to his side as he came to a stop. The demon looked on the proceedings with suspicion and some dread in his horned expression.

"I do not like the look of this." He said out loud in the demonic tongue. "I recognize those runes they have drawn. They are Igannok. Some of the Orcs and Eredar we subverted toyed with these things to their own detriment, and that of the Legion. They foolishly believed they could control what they summoned. The Void is not a power to be trifled with."

Gakin looked to his slave, nodding in acknowledgment before turning his attention once more to the scene in front of him. His study had always been of the Fel, and the demonic powers which could be harnessed from it. He knew much less of the Shadow or Void itself except where harnessing the lesser voidwalkers was concerned. But he felt he was intelligent enough to be set on his guard if one of the Nether's own Nathrezim was concerned about the activities in front of him.

Stormwind had changed much since his first conversation with the Shadow Priest. So much so that Gakin had been able to walk the streets with his new pet unchallenged by the Stormwind Patrols. It had been welcome to himself and his Order as they came out of the shadows to practice their arts. Still, there had been many of the common people they had passed along the streets that had looked upon the Dreadlord with the same fear and suspicion that the demon displayed now. It was all a matter of perspective.

"And what did they summon, Drey'van?" Gakin nevertheless asked in the same language.

"I believe your people call it a Void god." The Dreadlord replied, its voice calm though clearly concerned. "It consumed many resources to put down and finally destroy. Many Legion forces were sent to the Twisting Nether in the process. One of our strategic worlds was consumed by the effort and shattered."

They're trying to summon a Void god? Alarms went off in Gakin's mind. Part of him was impressed with their audacity and power, but the other part shared his pet's concerns. What good was there having power when the world around you was in flames?

"It would be wise for them to stop if you wish your world to remain intact." The demon said, then adding deferentially, "Master."

Gakin then turned his eyes towards the Shadow users once more. He looked for a particular balding man whom he knew was far more than he seemed. Seeing him up near the altar drawing more such runes on its surface, he and his demon skirted the rites and followed the walls up to the front of the sanctuary, ascending the steps to the altar.

"This is not what we agreed to, Sarvis." Gakin addressed the older man.

The Shadow Priest looked up from what he was doing, slightly annoyed at the interruption. "And I presume then only you are allowed to have your exotic 'pets' then?" He replied, his eyes drifting towards the Nathrezim. "We each had our own goals. Mine was simply more ambitious than you could conceive of."

"You risk all of Azeroth with this. What good is gaining power only to see the world destroyed and you with it?" Gakin voiced his concerns. "The first rule to surpassing your limits is knowing what they are, Shadow Priest, and controlling this thing you and yours are summoning is beyond any mortal ability."

Sarvis smiled. It was an unnerving, evil smile that made even Drey'van take a step backwards from. And then he chuckled malevolently. "Now, I never said a word about controlling anything, did I? I only intend to aim it at a specific target like a hound on a leash or an arrow drawn back before 'zing!'"

The Shadow Priest drew his hand back in a releasing gesture.

"You're insane." Gakin told him. "What's to keep it from consuming everything into the Void?"

"Why... Nothing!" Sarvis replied. "All will fall to the great Darkness! Azeroth will be consumed by the Shadow!" He then assumed an expression of mocking confusion, "I'm terribly sorry, is that a problem for you? Perhaps you have a conflict on your calendar? A romantic tete-a-tete with a succubus, maybe? Eh? I would reschedule if I were you."

Sarvis then laughed once more before bending down and resuming his rune writing.

Horrified at the madness of the man in front of him, Gakin then ordered his slave, "Destroy him! Destroy every Shadow Priest here! Leave no one alive!"

Nodding, the Dreadlord bared sharp fangs as he responded, "With great pleasure!"

But just as the demon moved, he froze where he stood and began to cackle maniacally. "Why is it you people always forget one small, insignificant, but important detail about our discipline?" The Dreadlord's voice said as it turned to Gakin. "It's so disappointing."

And then as the Warlock looked on, his face twisted in terror, the Nathrezim's jet black claws plunged into the human man's chest and ripped out his beating heart, squeezing it in front of him until it became nothing but shredded gore. As the human man dropped to the ground lifeless, the Nathrezim then took his own sharp claws and ripped out his own throat with them. Demon's blood spilled out everywhere as the Dreadlord's massive corpse fell next to his master.

Opening his eyes from where he had them closed in concentration, he observed the results of his handiwork. Then Sarvis went back to what he was doing annoyed once more at the interruption. It would take long enough to attract a Void god's attention as it stood. It wasn't like there were hundreds of them just waiting to be called upon. Fortunately, his was not the only collection of devotees that were engaged in this very same thing, and theirs was not the only plan being enacted to wrap the world in Shadow and beloved chaos.

The voices in his head approved of his work, and Sarvis was glad of it. They assured him that his Dark Lady would be pleased as well, and all of his people would return to the embrace of the Shadow where they belonged. He was glad for that. The Light shouldn't have interfered like it had. The Light had forced the Shadow's hand after all.

The balance had to be kept. The Light sought to envelop everything. The Void had to counter it by getting there first.

Soon, very soon, Azeroth would be enveloped by the Void, and then she would be consumed by it.

In the Sanctum of Light in Eastern Lordaeron...

The Highlord of the Silver Hand sat in a carved wooden pew facing the altar of the Sanctum's cathedral, hallowed by the interment of one of his order's most noble Champions. Pure, Holy Light shone down like a mist upon it always reminding him of his friend and predecessor's maxim, "The Light doesn't abandon its own." Across the broad, carpeted aisle to his right sat a young blond haired man dressed as a Gilnean nobleman, though the Highlord would know his boyish face anywhere. The young man of the Priestly class had been given special dispensation to enter and remain within that sanctified space for the time being.

Surrounding him, lining the walls of the great church, were many images and statues of great Paladins that had come before him along with their actual tombs and crypts which hallowed this place's ground a thousand times and then some. Stained glass set into the sides and into the front of the Cathedral behind the altar somehow miraculously streamed Light into the underground sanctuary. Vines of living ivy drifted down from the ceiling, growing along golden fixtures. The Holy Light itself guarded and protected this place as it demonstrated when the Knights of the Ebon Blade inexplicably turned on them and attacked the holy place in the attempt to seize Highlord Fordring's body for some unholy purpose. It had been the Light defending its own that day that had stopped them and sent them fleeing.

At his side was a small book written by one of Jeshua's emissaries, a Night Elf man named Amerian. He had received it as a gift from Sylvanas Windrunner and Nathanos Marris after their summit with the Alliance leaders that he had hosted in the unassuming white chapel above the Paladins' hidden headquarters and sacred ground. It told of Jeshua's incredible story from the beginning when Amerian had met him until he had watched the man ascend into the sky disappearing in a blaze of glory. He had read this book from cover to cover being curious about the man who had so changed the lands and people around them for the Light. The story contained therein would have been almost unbelievable for fiction, except that he had personally met many eyewitnesses.

And the evidence for the resurrection of the town of Darrowshire lay two day's ride to the west of them. He had seen the town and its people himself, both before, when he was a much younger man newly consecrated to the Light traveling through the Eastern Plaguelands to fight the Scourge that remained, and after when he personally went with the relief caravans to see the drastic change that had come upon them even before the New Dawn.

The pretty little girl Pamela, so full of life, had come up to greet him on that visit telling her father, "Papa, it's the nice man who helped me find my doll!" He remembered searching for the pieces of the doll in the ruined town for the little phantom girl he just couldn't say no to. It had been going on twenty five years ago now, not long after the third war.

It had been hard to wrap his mind around it, but somehow, according to those who knew him best, Jeshua didn't just have a command of the Light as he and his brother and sister Paladins did. Jeshua was the Holy Light somehow incarnated into a young human man to show the rest of them what the Holy Light was really like and to teach them what it really wanted from them, healing and bringing peace in a way the Highlord himself could only dream of.

There had also been the party of former Paladins who had come to Light's Hope Chapel less than two weeks before with the most amazing story he had ever heard. Durothian Rall and Katharine the Pure had been beside themselves explaining what had occurred to the former lord Grayson Shadowbreaker and his radical realignment of beliefs where Jeshua was concerned, contradicting every vicious thing he had ever said about the man. According to their report, it had been Jeshua himself who had knocked some sense into him the hard way.

It would have still been difficult to believe except that he felt the Light within him leading him to that same conclusion. The Highlord knew the Light as well as any Paladin or Holy Priest. It had been his friend, his shield, his hammer, and his first commitment, especially after the passing of his wife in the Outland during the Alliance's campaigns there.

In his bare right hand, his armored gauntlet removed and set to his other side, was a small photograph set into a locket he carried with him close to his breast. It was of a light brown haired attractive woman with bright green eyes and a smile that had always captured his heart. In the picture she wore the gilded steel armor emblazoned with the lion's crest of an Alliance Paladin. He had been from Stormwind and she had been a refugee from Lordaeron, a nobleman's daughter. He had loved her fiercely, and she him. She had loved him enough to take the Dreadlord's deadly strike, jumping in his way when he had been injured on the ground in the Hellfire Peninsula. She had fallen but not before removing the demon's head from its shoulders with her own blade. They had been found by Alliance search parties much later. He was still breathing. She was not, having died from her severe wounds.

They had only been married for two years. He had always wished the demon had taken him instead.

"I wish you could have seen the changes here, Adora." He spoke to the locket. "I wish you could have seen what Jeshua did for Lordaeron and your people. You would have loved it."

Like many of those fallen in that other dimensional world, her body had not been brought home, but had been buried in the ground there. He had no sarcophagus to lay flowers at here in the Sanctum of Light. All he had left was her picture.

There had been so many precious, good, and noble lives he had seen lost over the years.

On top of the book about Jeshua was another tract. It was only a few pages really, also written in human common by the same emissary, Amerian. This writing was brought to him earlier yesterday in the morning by a Sindorei Paladin woman that he had trusted with his life on more than one occasion during the Legion war. She had brought another one of Jeshua's human emissaries with her at the special request of Lordaeron's current queen, a man named Thaddeus Jude. She had also brought the young blond man he knew personally to be Anduin Wrynn, the presumed missing King of Stormwind. The Highlord had given both men, both of them intensely devoted to the Holy Light, special dispensation to enter the Paladin Sanctum as he once had done for the High Priest of the Conclave in extraordinary circumstances.

And these circumstances were more than extraordinary after Anduin had told his tale as well. He had come to speak with him personally, knowing that the Highlord had been one of the last people to communicate with Magni Bronzebeard. The young but capable human King had wanted to locate their mutual friend to verify the vision contained within the tract.

The Blood Elf Matriarch had been sent to escort both of them and relate also the event she witnessed which saw Alleria Windrunner exorcised of a Void possession by none other than Grayson Shadowbreaker, and this in the name and apparent power of Jeshua Lightborn as one of his emissaries! Lady Liadrin was not given to flights of fancy, her penchant for romance novels notwithstanding. More than this, she was not one to openly promote anything having to do with Night Elf religious beliefs. She was a capable warrior and sound tactician, and herself devoted to the Light "religiously" after its restoration in the Sunwell. If she had taken this new information so seriously as to bring the emissary directly to them, then so must he.

Both books taken together created a picture for him that he couldn't ignore, and couldn't remain on the fence about. Either he accepted what they both said, or he didn't. Either he would be the champion of the Light, or he would not.

And he could not accept the latter option.

The Light had been with him throughout his life. It had comforted and guided him after the death of his wife, and seen him through countless conflicts across several different worlds as he fought for its ideals and principles against the Scourge, the Burning Legion, and corrupt humans, Orcs, elves, Trolls on Azeroth, Draenor, the Outland, Argus, and even taking that fight to the Legion's own strongholds on half a dozen other planets somewhere out in the Great Dark. The Light and he had healed together, fought together, and it had been the one immoveable constant anchoring him in that constantly shifting world.

The Light itself drew him inexorably towards Jeshua Lightborn as his true liege lord.

The previous afternoon he had been paid another visit by another "old friend", one whom he hadn't thought to see again if he was to be honest. Magni Bronzebeard had appeared at the entrance to the Chapel above them asking to speak with him, and the tale the diamond dwarf spun for him would have been unthinkable if not for the vision Elune had given Amerian. Anduin had joined them both for that meeting and they had all compared notes coming up with the same conclusion.

Azeroth is waking up, and there's only one way of surviving it. He had come to realize.

And that had led him to the decision he had taken yesterday evening after he had sent a messenger back to Lordaeron City where he had been told Sylvanas Windrunner would be waiting for confirmation from Anduin on the veracity of the vision. Magni had then returned to Northrend to keep a monitor on Azeroth and listen if she had any more to say. Anduin had asked to remain and speak with the emissary himself whom the Highlord had also asked to remain.

It had also led to the decision made with not only Lady Liadrin, but the entire Council of the Silver Hand as it concerned all of them and the holy knights of every order throughout Azeroth. All of them would have to make a choice, either they supported and believed in Jeshua and took his pact, or they rejected the Light's message to them and thus the Holy Light itself. The time for sitting on the fence was over. He understood the implications of Amerian's vision very well, and what role the Order would need to play.

Over the course of the previous hours, Paladins from all across the world trickled into the sanctuary of the Sanctum of Light and took a seat in the pews, many assuming a position of prayer or meditation as they did so. Humans, Tauren Sunwalkers, Draenei Vindicators and Justicars, Dwarves, Sindorei Blood Knights, and the two Night Elves, Delas and Nerus Moonfang, who had sworn their alliegance to the Holy Light and whom he had personally consecrated as the first Paladins of their race. They all flowed in throughout the day by portal, gryphon, wind rider, and other more exotic personal mounts after the call had been sent out. The flightmasters on the surface must have been pulling their hair out with all the animals they had been given charge of that day.

The entire Order of the Silver Hand had received the Highlord's summons and had responded.

In front of him, on the face of the white stone altar at the top of the raised dais had been placed a large silver chalice which had been filled with a red wine by Jeshua's emissary. He had explained the fairly simple ritual and its purpose to him in detail. Lady Liadrin had also shared with him her experience of it as well.

Either the Order of the Silver Hand accepted Jeshua's pact or they did not, but each Paladin would have to make their decision here and now. They either followed where the Light led them, or they didn't. The future of the people of Azeroth depended on it, as did their own.

Outside the sunlight was fading and soon it would be time for him to address the mighty congregation which had gathered at his summons. He knew many of the faces he would see personally, having fought by their side at one time or another in the campaigns of the last twenty five or thirty years. He also knew that there would be faces that he would not see. Many of their brethren from Stormwind had rejected Jeshua outright due to the vicious verbal attacks on him there. Only Durothian, Katharine, Arthur, and those with them would be there present for certain. The rest? He hoped he would see some of them.

Briefly, he wondered if he would see Grayson Shadowbreaker once more, but it sounded like the Light had called him to a different vocation, one maybe more important than that of Paladin. He silently wished the man well as a squire made his way respectfully down the long aisle of the sanctuary and stopped next to his commander-in-chief.

"My lord, the sun has gone down." The squire, a young dark haired human boy of sixteen wearing a silvered breastplate and mithril plate leggings informed him. The tabard of the Silver Hand adorned the young man's chest over the breastplate.

He knew his name, Evan Mills. His family had been minor nobility with small holdings in the Redridge Mountains before the Blackrock Orc clan overran them. He had just been given the new breastplate and greaves the week before to acclimate his muscles to the heavier armor a knight wore. Even now the Highlord could see the weight of the armor somewhat straining on the lad but he bore it well and without complaint. He had made a good choice in taking the lad in as his personal squire. He could see him taking his vows in only a few short years and joining the ranks of the Paladins of Azeroth.

And then he remembered that none of them had those few short years to spare any longer.

The Highlord nodded gravely, then instructed the boy himself to join the other squires in the back of the sanctuary. They too would be called upon to make their choice tonight.

The leader of the Order of the Silver Hand then stood up from the pew where he had sat contemplating what he would say for hours, praying as well that the Light would give him the words if this was truly its will. Never before had he imposed such a choice on these good men and women, but he himself had been left with little other option than to stay silent and ignore the impending threat.

He went to stand in front of the altar, took one knee in reverence and respect for a brief few seconds, then rose once more and turned to face his knights. Every seat in the pews appeared to be taken as he looked out on the sea of expectant faces, tauren sitting next to human sitting next to blood elf next to Draenei and all with the common devotion and faith in the sacred, Holy Light. It was such a beautiful thing to behold.

"Paladins of the Silver Hand, my brothers and sisters in the Holy Light," he began to address them, "thank you for responding to summons. We have all fought together on many occasions regardless of our race or politics, side by side working to bring the Light to all of Azeroth and banish the Shadows that have threatened us. We have all fought together, bled together, laughed together, and grieved our fallen together no matter who we are or where we have come from. It is the Holy Light and our faith in the Holy Light which has bound us together as family."

There were approving nods from many of the armored warriors who listened to him.

"And it is the Holy Light who has spoken to us directly, revealing itself over the course of this past year in the person of Jeshua Lightborn, whose death and self-resurrection is responsible for the great healing and transformation which has taken place in Azeroth which many of you have seen for yourselves and reported to us here in the Sanctum of Light. From the restoration of the Black Morass in the south to the cleansing and healing of the Plaguelands here in the north, from the resurrection of the long dead peoples of Darrowshire to the purging and healing of our fallen brothers and sisters among the Knights of the Ebon Blade, some of whom I see here among us now fully restored and cleansed by the power of the Holy Light through Jeshua Lightborn, there can be no further debate about the truth that this man has brought us, and the truth of who he is, the Holy Light itself incarnated among us as only the full power and glory of the Holy Light itself could have accomplished any of these things we have seen and heard done."

He was met with thoughtful silence at his words as each of the knights before him wrestled with them, unable to contradict what he was saying. As he looked out, he saw the familiar faces of Thassarian and Darion Mograine, living, breathing, redeemed, and restored to the Light as Paladins by Jeshua's great gift, along with others from their former order. It was something he had never dared hope to see.

"The Council of the Silver Hand and I have come to realize that we can no longer remain neutral or ambivalent when the Light has spoken to us so plainly, pleading with us to follow the path it has shown us through this singular man. Either we follow where the Light leads us, or we do not. Either we are servants of the Holy Light or we are not. If we choose to serve the Light as we have all taken vows to do, then we must each of us recognize and follow Jeshua Lightborn. As many of our own have now discovered, to reject Jeshua is to reject the Holy Light to which we have sworn ourselves."

He paused before he continued, allowing his meaning to sink in before he informed them of the "new developments". There were several of the Paladins that appeared uncomfortable at his words, while others, most notably among the Draenei, nodded in agreement. Apparently, the Prophet Velen must have already spoken to his own people of the Lightborn.

"And here and now as Paladins we must renew our vows to the Holy Light and take them once more to its Message and Messenger, Jeshua Lightborn. I have yesterday received from two different, trustworthy sources that Azeroth, the Titan world soul of our planet, is waking. When she wakes fully, as I'm sure you are aware, the world which sustains us will break apart and all those still living on it will die."

Gasps of shock rippled through the martial congregation. Murmuring and whispers ran among the seated crowd of evacuations to Outland or even to the alternate Draenor which had been discovered. Other spoke of trying to keep Azeroth asleep.

"From both sources I have been told this has been the Light's plan from the beginning of time. It is the will of the Holy Light that she wakes, and it is our duty as the sworn servants of the Light to ensure that nothing disrupts this."

The sanctuary fell silent as they once more struggled with the truth of his words, weighing them against their own desire for survival.

"The Light has not abandoned us and never will." He told his knights. "The Light has planned for this all along and made a way for this world's people to escape this. Before Jeshua left this world, he left behind a ritual. Similar to the Worgen's pact, Jeshua entrusted this to his emissaries to give freely to all who would come to him and make this pact with him." The Highlord then gestured to the silver chalice which still sat on the surface of the altar. "In it we are joined to the Holy Light through him permanently, and through it, each person who makes this pact with him will be rescued when the time comes by the Light itself. We know firsthand that the Holy Light defends its own. Here, through Jeshua Lightborn, it is doing so once more."

The Paladin lord then gestured to the plainly robed man standing to the side of the altar. He then approached the altar reverently and, taking the chalice, he prayed over it, placing his hand over the rim where a flash of bright, radiant light could be seen clearly passing between his hand and the contents.

As he did so, he spoke aloud to the assembled Paladins saying, "The night Jeshua was murdered, he took a cup of wine, prayed over it, and told all of us that it was his blood of the new pact he was making with us and as many of us as would drink from it. He told us to drink it to remember him."

The man then sipped from the cup himself.

"As Highlord of the Order of the Silver Hand, I am choosing to take this cup and make this pact with Jeshua. I am drawing the line here and now because my orders for this summons are to take Jeshua's story, his teachings, and this cup of his pact back with you to your home cities and nations. As of right now, the Order of the Silver Hand serves Jeshua Lightborn."

And with that, he accepted the offered chalice from the emissary and sipped from it himself. Then he offered it to the young king who had sat opposite him across the aisle, who also approached and took, sealing that pact he had already decided upon. Immediately afterwards the members of the Council of the Silver Hand rose from where they had been seated towards the front, and each and every one of them including the one Nathrezim among their ranks, Lothraxion a general of the Army of the Light, also sipped from the chalice.

As he did so he quoted the Tome of Divinity, "The Holy Light is my shield and my strength, my salvation and hope in times of darkness and despair. If the Light is on my side, who can stand against me, if the Light is for me, of whom will I be afraid?"

As the heads of their individual orders all took their stand alongside the Highlord, the rest of the congregation was left with their own decision to make. There was silence and no movement among them for some time until a lone squire made the long walk from the back of the sanctuary, his own plate armor weighing down his young frame. He approached the altar and went down on one knee carefully so as not to lose his balance from the armor he wore.

"I will make this pact. I will serve the Holy Light by following Jeshua Lightborn, my lord." Evan Mills declared soberly and with deep reverance, bowing his head to his superior.

With some pride in the young man for his courage to stand when his superiors still struggled, the Highlord gave the chalice to him and allowed him to sip from it.

After the boy, Darion Mograine stood, his expression humble but determined, followed by those Paladins restored from the undeath. As one, they left their seats and came to the front, taking one knee and drawing their swords in a display of fealty and obeisance.

"I so swear my honor and my life to the Holy Light through Jeshua Lightborn who redeemed me from my undeath and restored them both." Lord Mograine intoned solemly, those former Death Knights making the same pledge before, one by one, they all sipped from the cup.

And then the Draenei members also stood almost as one and approached the altar. Each also took a knee, nodding with deep respect to the young squire who had been the first to answer his Highlord's call to service. "I so swear my loyalty to the Holy Light through Jeshua Lightborn." Each man and woman of them proclaimed, following the young man's example. Each was given the cup in turns.

And then more came, one by one, each of them answering the call to serve as the Light demanded of them. Tauren, Elves, Humans, and Dwarves all approached and took the knee as a show of fealty and submission to both their Highlord and the Light to which they had already sworn their lives.

"My life belongs to the Light." One man said. "I so swear to follow the Holy Light through Jeshua Lightborn." Another repeated. Several drew their swords and hammers, swearing their allegiance to the Light upon them as they were given the cup to sip. All pledged their lives and their honor to the Holy Light once more as they took Jeshua's pact.

This went on for hours as each knight in the congregation came forward. In the end, when they understood what was being asked of them, none of those present had chosen to abstain. The Order of the Silver Hand had chosen its side.

When all had returned to their seats though remained on their feet, the Highlord addressed them one more time. "It is done then. We are all in agreement here tonight. The Silver Hand acts with one mind to save as many lives as we can from this impending 'apocalypse'. Our duty, our lives, and our sacred honor are bound to the Holy Light through Jeshua Lightborn. So we swear."

"SO WE SWEAR!" Came the thunderous response.

The Highlord then drew his own massive warhammer and cried out, "The Light's will is clear! We take this message and this cup to the whole world! For the Light! For Jeshua! For Azeroth!"

With a thunderous unison which shook the whole earth above and beneath them, the Knights of the Silver Hand replied in like manner, raising their weapons and shouting, "FOR THE LIGHT! FOR JESHUA! FOR AZEROTH!"