Disclaimer Do not own Blizzard's World of Warcraft or any of the Publishing rights this is just a piece of fiction from a fan of the game, enjoy.
Prologue
The sound of distant hooves echoed in the boy's ears as he ran, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he threw himself forward desperation lending his limbs motion. Around him the vast, open plain of the Blasted Lands stretched out, barren and unforgiving. It had been two months since he had been forced to leave his home in Stormwind, two whole months of running and hiding, fleeing the guilt of that terrible night when… He dared not even think of it the memory was still too fresh, the guilt too great. It had been three days since he had passed the formidable hulk of Netherguarde keep, the castle that provided the last line of defence against the chaos that was said to be rife beyond the Dark Portal, his destination. He like everyone who was brought up as a proud member of the alliance had heard the stories of the war in Outland. He like everyone else had been repulsed by the tales of the twisted demons of the Burning Crusade their unspeakably evil ways. As a youngster he had had terrible nightmares inspired by those stories of the realm of monsters and he had vowed that for as long as he lived he would never visit the place if he could help it, for he had no wish to be eaten by a Fell Orc or tortured by one of the monstrous Pit Lords, not when with all the dangers of Kalimdor and Lordaeron Outland was considered a deadly realm. Now though, with what had happened he felt as though it was the only place he belonged, after all what he had done had been monstrous why shouldn't he live as a monster? Clearly he was not meant to live among men or their allies. The journey to the Blasted Lands had been arduous and full of its own dangers and perils. After quitting the city of his birth with only an aged map and a small bag of hastily gathered provisions, he had had to avoid Guard patrols in Elwynn Forest and had hide from the thuggish members of the Defias Brotherhood who, after sensing an easy target had given chase. He had made his way with great trepidation into the shadowy region of Duskwood, the land where the dead walked! There he had encountered more than his fair share of ghosts under the shadowy canopy of that damned land, but none worse than those that would haunt his thoughts till his dying day! Next he had passed through the silent and eerie Deadwind pass, dominated by the looming presence of Medivh's solitary tower Karazahn. Though he had traversed the treacherous mountains with a distinct sense of unease at being so close to such a legendary and feared place, something in the aura of the place had soothed him, making him feel less revulsion at what he was and it was there in the silent solitude of Deadwind pass that he had had his first nights uninterrupted sleep in over a fortnight. But then they had caught up to him. The Guard's had procured the services of a grizzled old Dwarven bounty hunter called Tarim Deephearth to aid in their search and with his expert aid and his pet Wolf Greyback's keen senses they had picked up the Boy's trail and with each day that passed were rapidly closing the distance. The Boy's flight then became a desperate game of cat and mouse as, after hearing one evening the far off sound of horses at full gallop and an excited persistent barking echoing off the mountains around him, he realised just how close his pursuers were. In his fright the Boy blundered deeply into the Swamp of Sorrows almost falling foul of the Horde garrison at Splinterspear Junction before finally the ground beneath his feet became to harden and become dusty and he reached the sprawling, empty expanse of the Blasted Lands.
His lungs burned as he staggered onwards, screaming for a reprieve but he would not stop, he couldn't for he was terrified. Though the boy had blocked from his mind the memory of the night he became a fugitive from the Stormwind Guard, he could think of little else than the fate that awaited him should they catch up to him. The Stockades would be the least of his worries if that happened for he wasn't just some petty thief or pickpocket. Hurriedly he reached into his makeshift backpack and withdrew a small, nearly empty water-skin. After taking a few short sips in an attempt to allay the great thirst he was feeling and to wash some of the tainted dust of the cursed land from the corners of his mouth, he re-corked the vessel and replaced it within his pack chancing a quick glance behind him. A line of black dots, adorned the horizon behind him growing steadily larger as the guards, with their strong legged mounts, steadily closed the distance between the hunters and their prey. Upon seeing his death approaching, new life breathed into the Boy's leaden limbs and he galvanized himself into further action, forcing his battered body onwards. Just as the line of dots behind him began to separate from one another and become more distinct figures, the sun gleaming from their silver and blue plate armour, the boy crested another hill and was greeted with an at once welcoming and deeply repellant sight. Ahead of him, rising out of a crater in the headland, loomed the horrific grandeur of the infamous and foreboding Dark Portal, the ley-line between the world of Azeroth and the fractured land of Draenor. The boy could not help but stop and stare at the sight of it. The portal stood several hundred feet tall upon a huge stepped dais and pulsed with green crackling energies. Either side of the emerald doorway stood two titanic statues, their hands outstretched in warning and from beneath their stone cowls eyes of green balefire burned. They were not living, yet they seemed to be much more than just lumps of sculpted stone, and looking into those glowing green orbs the boy suddenly felt very uncertain. The enormity of what he a rashly planned to do to escape hit him with the force of a herd of stampeding Kodo. He faltered unsure of his purpose, not ready to die yet not ready to make the necessary step for survival. The sound of a long, loud howl from somewhere behind made up his mind for him. Without thinking, the boy started forwards down the crater side towards the mass of tents and smoking campfires that lined the bottom of the crater in front of the Portal. Warriors from the armies of both the Horde and the Alliance filled the camp, performing their daily duties, sharpening weapons or cooking suspicious looking foodstuffs over open fires, laughing and joking with each other as if their respective races had not been at war since anyone could remember. They were here to fight a far greater threat than each other, a threat that lay gnashing it's tusks on the other side of the great Portal. The boy shuddered as he made his way unhindered through the camp, trying not to think of what horrors awaited him in the beyond only hoping that they did not surpass that which awaited should he stay. None of the warriors tried to stop him as he made his way through their ranks indeed they seemed to pay him no heed whatsoever as if the sight of a bedraggled, half starved and haunted looking boy stumbling through their midst was commonplace, which thought the boy, with the disasters of the colonization attempts of Draenor it probably was. Refugees were bound to be in almost constant flow around here. As he neared the first step of the massive stone dais the Portal rested upon, one of the soldiers a huge man in his late forties by the look of him, looked up, and smiled. The boy started but realised that the man was looking past him, to the rim of the crater where the hunting party was now silhouetted. The man laid down his sword, which he had been oiling with a leather cloth to prevent rust and stood, cupping his hands to his mouth and he greeted the men and dwarf.
"Ah, some reinforcements at long last!" he shouted in a loud bass voice. The boy slipped past the man unnoticed and began to assail the steps of the dais slowly at first, not wishing to draw attention to himself but quickening his pace as the hunting party's answering cry echoed around the crater.
"Stop the boy!" The warrior below obviously did not comprehend the command but the boy did and he broke into a run, taking the steps two at a time, gasping deep exhausted breaths as he did so.
"Stop the damn boy!" shouted the Dwarf in a much louder voice, frantically gesturing towards the small figure that was by now about halfway to the top of the dais steps. The warrior turned and shouted in surprise, before beginning his own ascent. The bigger, stronger man began to easily close the distance with the travel weakened boy and before long was barely a few feet behind him. Winded the boy made the final step of the dais before his body finally gave out and he slumped hard against the warm stone of the Portal platform. Seeing the boy fall the soldier slowed his pace, walking the last few steps and puffing lightly. The boy raised himself to his knees, staring fixedly at the Portal that was so close but just out of reach and fervently wished that he could simply fly the last few feet and disappear forever into its murky green depths. There was a slight panting from behind him as the soldier caught up to him.
"Now look sonny…" the man began, putting out his arm to grip the boy's shoulder but the boy, instead of being where he ought to, was now suddenly several feet closer to the Portal. The soldier cursed and started forwards once more but again as he reached where the child should have been he found himself again a few feet behind the boy, who was now so close to the Portal he could hear it calling to him in a dark language he did not understand. Whatever the boy had done though had taken it's toll and unconscious he fell forwards and through the shimmering green curtain just as the soldier reached him once more.
"Bloody Mages!" cursed the soldier turning to be greeted by the sight of the Stormwind guards and their tracker just cresting the top steps.
"Where is he?" said one of them obviously the leader. The soldier, annoyed at being addressed in such a frank manner simply jerked his thumb in the direction of the Portal and walked off down the steps whistling a jaunty tune to himself. The guards stared uneasily at the emerald veil, their prey had eluded them, they were not permitted to enter the cursed realm and they had no authority over the soldiers of the war camp.
"Weel," said the Dwarven tracker Tarim in his broad mountain accent, "Ahm thinking that's that fur this yin." he turned to follow the soldier down the steps of the dais, but then paused something nagging was pulling him back. In all of his long career the hunter had never had his prey escape. It may have taken years in some cases but Tarim Deephearth always came up with the goods and the fact that this kid had escaped him was a serious blow to his pride. He turned back to the guardsmen who were all looking decidedly dejected. "Och don't get yer wee platemail knickers in a twist ah'll go get em, even thogh it means dooin sumthin ah swore ah'd never doo but if ah doo this ah'm gunnae need tae knoo what ah'm dealin with. An ah don't care if its classified alright?" He turned glaring at each of the guards in turn all of whom backed off slightly. They had hired the dwarf because he was the best but because of the nature of their mission they had kept the Boy's details private only providing him with the enough to get the Kid's trail initially. They had as right to be nervous, classified information was just that for a reason and to divulge such would be a serious breach in protocol. On the other hand, if the Dwarf could go to Outland and find the Boy they would not have to return and admit failure. Tarim watched the men make up their minds suppressing a grin. It was true they had a right to be nervous, because a Dwarf never did anyone a favour, there was a job and then there was payment and Tarim had retirement in mind.
"Noo," he continued "Jist whoo is this laddie then? And more importantly what did he do?". One of the guards, Sergeant at arms Mathias Kriegson stepped forwards and said in hushed tones, uncomfortable about divulging the information, "The Boy is a natural magician, he is unique because he was not discovered by the Mages guild of Dalaran and therefore was never properly schooled in the use of his magic, as a result he cannot fully control his abilities and on the night of his 13th birthday he killed his mother and father after a particularly heated row." The Dwarf listened to the information with deadly seriousness and shook his head solemnly once the man had finished speaking. "So the guild dropped the ball? an ah tek it that they don't want their wee slip up made general ken am ah right?" The man looked as though he was about to retort but stopped himself, he could not fault the Dwarf's reasoning.
"What's the wee lads name?" Kriegson looked at the Dwarf quizzically at this question as it seemed rather unnecessary but grudgingly answered.
"The Boy's name is Tyrias, Tyrias Varus."
With that the Dwarf nodded to the men and gave a long low whistle, before unsoldering his musket and stepping through the Portal. There was a scrabbling of claws on stone and a few seconds later a large grey furred wolf loped up onto the dais and through the shimmering green veil into the unknown.
On the other side of the portal, far away in the great city of Shattrath, a man awoke from his intense meditation as might a sleeper from a nightmare. The man leapt up as if stung, struggling to steady his mind and collect his thoughts. Once he had again seized control only the Boy's name remained turning itself over and over again in his mind. Kadghar stroked his beard and tried to make sense of it all. His vision had left him with a sense of foreboding but also of hope but it was so muddled as to be almost worthless. He strode over to the window and looked out to the Northeast and Hellfire Peninsula, the name continuing to echo throughout the wizard's mind.
"Just who are you Tyrias?" he wondered aloud before turning back into the room to continue his meditation. 'One thing's for certain' he thought to himself as he sat once again and prepared for meditation 'there are great things ahead for you Tyrias, whoever you may be'.