Exar Tenebrae Luos
"When a great evil befalls the world, a child of two worlds shall be born.
This child will join with two forces powerful beyond belief.
By their hand, the world will be saved or destroyed.
So the Shan'alla will rise again"
Malni Thunderheart looked across the dusty battlefield, his sharp green eyes searching for any fellow survivors. Though he knew that it was unlikely, his mind wanted another being, a lost soul like himself that he could share his sorrow with. He had already seen the bloody broken body of his mate, Shidala, mangled and torn, her auburn fur matted and burned, and his best friend Granel, lying dead on the ground, a gaping wound marring his green chest, his tusks broken, and his red eyes forever shut. Malni sighed, and began walking, wondering why there was to be so much death in both the Horde and the Alliance. This had been a raid on a thriving Alliance town, lying just north of the Barrens. He'd almost shed tears at the thought of so much innocent blood spilled. He, being a druid, was not concerned as much with the conflict between sides, and only wanted balance. Still, he thought the Alliance and the Horde must come to an agreement on how to resolve this pointless conflict. As he was pondering this, he felt something. Looking down, he saw that there was a bedraggled Draenei paladin laying on the ground, trying to grasp his hoof, the only part of him she seemed to be able to reach. He immediately took in her wounds, realizing she was on the threshold of death.
Thinking of what he could do, Malni suddenly heard her try to speak. "Help… me" her cracked voice wheezed. Quickly grabbing a leather waterskin from his belt, he poured some of the life-giving liquid down her throat, and leaned her into a sitting position on a nearby rock. Knowing how to speak some Common, the universal Alliance language, the Tauren replied "Do not worry, Draenei, I will heal you" he said, and began an incantation, the emerald energies swirling around his hands "No." the paladin's armored hand touched Malni's wrist, staying it. "If these wounds could be healed with magic, I would have healed them long ago." She rasped "Can I not do anything for you?" pleaded the druid, not wanting to see another sad death. "Yes…"she said "Make sure… my child is….safe" she managed to get out, and went into a fit of coughing. The Tauren reached out to help her, but she recovered and pushed his hand away. Malni got to his feet. "Where is it?" he asked."In…In the house… "She said with difficulty.
The Tauren ran to the flaming house, the once proud structure now falling apart. He tried to open the door, and found he could not. Trying the windows, he found that the same problem occurred. A protection spell, the Tauren thought: and a strong one at that. Realizing the urgency of the situation, as the structure could collapse on the child at any moment. Mind racing, he struggled for a solution. And then… the door and walls may be guarded, but the does this protection extend everywhere… the Tauren thought, and called upon the roots of the trees nearby, asking them to help save an innocent life. They complied, and within moments, thick roots were burrowing underground toward the house. Asking the trees to put all of their strength into this effort, he told them to break down the door. Even beings as old as the trees respected the value of life, and so put all of their effort into snaking along and into the door, slowly crushing it, and with it, the protective bubble. When this was done, the Tauren thanked the trees for their help, and his mind went back to the situation at hand. Knowing what he had to do, Malni did not think about the danger, only about the life that needed to be saved. And without a second thought, he barreled through the thick, flaming, but somehow still standing wooden door. After crashing through, he assessed the situation. Smoke covered most of the abode, and while Malni quickly beat out the residual flames on his umber fur, he thought: Must remember never to do that again. Listening with highly attuned ears, hearing past the crackling flames, the creak of timbers, and the shattering of stone, Malni heard the frightened cries of a child. He immediately ran to the source of the noise at the other side of the room, and picked up the baby from his ornately crafted oak cradle. Malni sensed that the protective aura keeping the house from falling apart was fading, and so acted quickly. Shielding the baby with his huge frame, he crashed through the wall as the house collapsed behind him. Hooves pounding on the bloodstained soil, he ran to the dying warrior. As he reached her, out of breath and coughing from the smoke, he saw that she did not have much time left. He handed her the baby, and for the first time, realized that it had feet with toes instead of the usual Draenei hooves, and that its skin had a strong greenish tint. "Your child," he said "He's..."
"Not normal? Yes. He is…half Orc" She managed to get out. At this, Malni gawked, surprised at the child's mixed origins, but quickly recovered from the shock, putting on a serious face. "Tauren, you have… a kind heart. Will… you take care of him?" she said painfully. Malni knew what he had to do. "Yes" he said solemnly "I will protect him with my life." The Draenei mother sighed contentedly "Aaaahh… Now I can die happy." And with her last breath, she whispered "Thank you…." And her eyes glazed over, leaving the druid alone with the child, crying softly. Holding the child in one enormous hand, Malni turned towards the where the blazing scarlet sun was beginning to shed light on the mountains. Out of a terrible end, a beautiful beginning, he thought. Looking down into the baby's pupil-lacking glowing blue eyes, he said "You are Tak'omo, the rising sun." then the Tauren thought, Exar Tenebrae Luos. From the darkness, light.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 5 years later * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Tak'omo! Wake yourself!" Hearing the stentorian roars of his father, Tak'omo groaned, and rolled out of bed, landing clumsily on his feet. Stumbling over to his closet, he pulled on a linen shirt with the sleeves cut out, and a well- worn pair of brown leather breeches, he trudged out of his room and into the kitchen. "Ah! So the dead man walks!" Tak'omo laughed, and looked to see his father, Malni, tending the fire. Tak'omo smiled, and asked "What's fo' breakfast'?" Malni chuckled heartily "Hah! Always food! I swear, child, if you eat any more we'll run out!" "But I's hungry!" the tiny child cried. "Alright, here, have some. But only if you promise to wash your face before you go outside."
"I promise!" Tak'omo said, then grabbed a bowl and presented it to his father, who filled it with steaming porridge. Tak'omo wolfed this down, then yelled "!" The massive Tauren chuckled, and then proceeded to sit down, and eat his breakfast with a little less gusto.
Tak'omo ran down the dusty pathways of Orgrimmar, the sun beating down on his back. He was relishing in his freedom, taking in all of the city's sights, sounds and smells, in rapture at the amalgam of so many interesting things. Suddenly his tiny pointed ears pricked up in response to an new sound. Tak'omo smiled and hurtled down the pathways to the source of the sound. After a while, Tak'omo identified the sounds as the sound of voices, his age, laughing. Almost tripping over a stone jutting out from the ground, Tak'omo ran as fast as his tiny legs could carry him to the voices. As he got closer, he realized that there were some Horde children playing with a ball, tossing it to each other and running around. Tak'omo gleefully ran into the midst of the game, yelling "Throw it! Throw it! " All of the children suddenly stopped. They looked at Tak'omo, gawking with amazement, and then a young Blood Elf broke the silence "Hah! Look at his face! He's got blue skin!" "And check out the stupid horns!" an Orc shouted: At this, several Tauren calves growled. "And his tentacles!" "What a disgrace to the Horde!" all of the other children began to laugh at the newcomer. Tak'omo's eyes began to tear up. Then he felt a hand on his shoulder; he turned around and looked at a Troll about his age. "Dey be meanies, mon, com wit me" Tak'omo dried his tears, and began to walk with the friendly Troll. "Wat be you' name?" inquired the Troll. "Tak'omo" the child said. "Hmm, 's a little long, mon, how 'bout Tak?"
"Tak, Tak, hey, I like it! Hey, by the way, what's your name?" inquired the newly nicknamed Tak'omo. The Troll replied "Zun'tajal, but you call me Zun, okay?"
"Got it."
Taking a shiny red cactus apple from his pocket, Zun rolled the crimson fruit along his arms, and took a bite that didn't look like it should fit into his mouth. Scarlet juices dribbling down his chin, he asked, "So how old be you?"
"Six years."
"Hey, dat's da same as me, mon!"
"Yay!"
"Why d' you say "yay"?"
"I didn' know what else ta say!"
… "Okay, good enough fo' me, mon!" Zun said, laughing. Tak'omo, seeing the humor of his comment, began to laugh too, which, in turn, caused Zun to laugh even harder. The cycle continued until the two young ones were both rolling on the dirty ground laughing.
When Tak'omo finally walked through his front door it was just before the start of the sunset. "My son!" yelled Malni, "You have missed your lunch! I was wondering if there was something wrong!" he said jokingly. "No father," Tak'omo said with a smile "I just made a friend." Tak'omo then walked to their water barrels. He used a tin dipper to scoop some water out of the wooden barrels and pour it on his face. After he had washed the dust (caused by hours of rolling on the ground) off of his face, he came back to the kitchen and helped Malni with the cooking. Soon after, the father and son had a bowl of stew, and Tak'omo went to bed, mind racing with the events of that day. And as his mind drifted into darkness, he heard a faraway voice whisper: "The Shan'alla will rise again…."