War, pain, suffering… They were his domain - the Nightmare, it belonged to him and his forgotten master. There was no hope for the mortals. Grinning with a murderous intent, Xavius yelled at the Emerald spectre as he swatted away an irritating gnat of a warrior. "Your Dreams are mine, your torment will be unending! There is no escape - they are mine Ysera! You cannot save them!"

Still, she refused to relent - that wretched dragon. Still, she infused her gnats with what strength she could offer them. But why did these mortals not fall? Why did the darkness of the Nightmare not overwhelm them already like it did so many others?

Time passed as the combatants continued their deadly dance. But despite his best efforts… These gnats were persistent, he would give them that. This wretched dream - it was tearing at his very being as he dealt with the fools, as was it shielding them from his master's dark embrace. Why?

Traces of anxiousness started to seep into his mind. This was taking too long. Summoning another set of tendrils of the master's power, he mentally growled in irritation. The Emerald spectre - her power was like a festering wound. If he couldn't stop it soon, it would become 'infected', tearing him apart. The irony was there, and it worked only to fuel his irritation.

Irritation and anxiousness started to drift away into fear. He could feel himself weakening - the master's whispers becoming fainter than they once were. He started panting as he crushed another gnat. As his consciousness drifted further and further away, he started to collapse. How could these gnats…?

"My work… left unfinished…" he growled, his focus moving once more to the Emerald spectre as the wretched gnats continued to cut at his failing spirit. "Nightmares are… never… forgotten…" Ysera…

So long, Xavius had worked. So long, he had fought. His whole life, he had sought power. First, he had nearly succeeded in opening the way for the Dark Titan, but that was before he had heard the whispers of true power… of the Void…

For the power, there was one future he had foreseen during his time as a weak and pitiful kaldorei. Ironically enough, it was the one future that had never come to pass. Although he felt they now served the same master, never did the day come that he saw Azeroth bow to himself… and her.

Memories of the past filled him as his vision faded to nothingness - as the grey mists of the Nightmare receded into the verdant green of the Dream. He was once more the Councilor that served the Light of Lights - his Queen.

Azshara… I have… failed.

Pain. She felt a faint trace of pain as she awoke from her dreamless sleep. For days, she had been planning. The Tidestone was nearly hers, but the incompetence of her servant had cost them victory. It was a pity, but nothing she couldn't work around. But what was this pain…?

Almost like a whisper, a voice she was once familiar with spoke within her ear. Azshara… I have… failed. Sorrow sparked within her for a moment, as memories slipped into her mind. Memories of a time she had thought forgotten. Memories of fates long by.

Suddenly, the sorrow was replaced with anger. Another failure. In an arcane blast, she tore a hole through her sunken citadel, collapsing portions around her as she yelled in fury. Ten of her guard rushed to her, as if thinking there was an attack.

Fools. She lashed out at the wretches in her fury. Three skewered by bolts of ice, five scorched with electric energy, and two torn apart by the very arcane energies conjured by her fury. As the guard fell, she yelled in total, unrelenting fury.

"XAVIUS!"