This chapter has been rewritten and now contains new information. This chapter leading up to chapter 35 have been altered so if you wish to read please go to the beginning and read from there so that you are not lost. Thank you.


United Against the Legion of Flames

Chapter 00: Prologue

The long hallway, pale blue stone arched walls with silver pillars that held the high roof above, glistened in the light of the focusing crystals that pulsed with arcane energy. Even though a mundane passageway it held elegant decorations and designs upon the steel floor, intricate lines and patterns were carved into the metallic surface and the walls were decorated with crystal mosaic windows that glowed many colors and shades.

This hall was one of many, of the hundreds that made up the inner workings of the Dimensional Ship. The Garadar, was its name, the home to many thousands of people, who walked these halls and stared at the elegant murals and designs that ran up its lengths.

Mairne Ragetotem had walked these halls many times, all its etchings and murals. Every stone and piece of metal on this ship he had seen at one point or another, every corridor and chamber. Despite the constant sight of old and well known halls, he could not help but feel at ease. His weary and old bones no longer ached, even if his sight began to fail him he could still make out the beauty of the Garadar.

For ten years this place had been his home away from Azeroth, and despite the ocean of stars that stood between him and his beloved world he felt content in being aboard the ship. The lights of his eyes may have dulled themselves over his life, many past actions and failures held at him like chains. But here on this ship, he and everyone else had purpose that gave them the assurance that their regrets would be forgiven and forgotten in the light of their future actions.

"Commander."

Mairne glanced to his right, his eyes catching the slightly bleary forms of several Alliance soldiers marching past him. He could make out the simple grey plated metal armor with blue lining, the only thing distinguishing them in his slowly worsening eye sight.

"Sergeant." Mairne greeted in return, walking past the small contingent of soldiers as they made their way along their patrols.

Mairne mused on that for a moment, a simple salute, it would have been impossible to believe something such as that would occur less than fifteen years ago. Back when the Alliance and Horde had only just ended their war against one another, forcing a fragile truce to avoid any more bloodshed. Yet even then it was barely considered a truce, more along the lines as they were not openly fighting one another.

But now they were saluting him, in respect he might add, because he was their superior officer, how quickly times can change. Old hatred may not have been completely forgotten, but they have been pushed aside for the common good of all races. For their duty now lie not in fighting one another, but against a common enemy.

Mairne made a quick turn, his cloven feet taking him to where he was needed, almost as if he was unaware of it. He slowly rose up a wide staircase, the light of the room above drawing him from his musing. The brilliant golden light was all that could be seen as he passed through the threshold and into the Bridge of the Dimensional Ship.

The room was a massive quarter dome; it rose up over a hundred feet and the walls were transparent crystal that gazed into the void of the Greater Dark. Around the chamber were many platforms, shooting from the walls on narrow bridges and supported on almost nothing else.

But even below his hooves were wonders to behold, Mairne glanced down to see deep into the core of the ship. Hundreds of feet it descended, almost impossible to see what lay at the bottom, pulses of violet and azure energy ran down the sides of the shaft and into the deep reaches of the ship.

But it was the single column of light that pierced through the center of the opening that illuminated the deep opening below his feet. A golden light that spiraled up and through the floor, striking a single crystal that hung immobile above the floor in the center of the chamber. The drive core of the ship, this giant crystal powered the entirety of the ship, channeling all that power through the vessel. It allowed for travel through the Greater Dark and the Twisted Nether with ease.

Mairne strode forward, walking around the large opening in the floor and towards the only platform reachable from the base floor. A single set of steps lead up to it, and there he saw several individuals at work. Standing in the center of the platform was a woman, the only human in sight, her hands clasped behind her armored back, and giving quick and crisp orders to the half a dozen Draenei around her.

Projections of light and energy shot up from small crystals upon the platforms edge, creating illusionary walls where the pilots worked. Tapping against the projected images and symbols quickly, boggling the old Shaman's mind how they could work at such speeds.

Yet his eyes focused on the back of the woman giving the command, he listened for a moment, to see if his query would be needed.

"What is the status of Core?"

"The core is charged, we are ready for transit, Admiral." One of the Draenei called, a flurry of symbols appearing before him and disappearing under the quick and nimble care of his fingers.

"What of the rest of the fleet, what are their positions?" The Admiral called once more, her head turning to the right and towards another Draenei.

"Ships are in close proximity, ready for mass transport, Admiral." The Draenei replied, the same one that was glanced upon by the Admiral. "All that is needed is a destination and we may depart."

"Good, hold our positions and wait for further order, as soon as we get our relocation orders we will be jumping." The Admiral finished, she turned and halted when she noted Mairne's presence.

She smiled up at the High Shaman, her aging face gaining several more lines in it. She took a few steps forward and her posture loosened, her commanding presence replaced with one of ease and approachability.

"Commander Mairne, good to see you, what do I owe for such a welcome visit?" The Admiral greeted with a small smile, her armored gauntlet resting on her hip as she looked up at the Shaman, who stood nearly three feet above her.

"It is good to see you as well Admiral Tyresa, I simply came to see an old friend and see if my ship was still in the sky." Mairne replied, looking down at the woman who had been his friend for over twenty years.

Her pale blue eyes narrowed at the comment, picking out a specific word and hooking into it. Although she did not say anything, for she knew he was just playing, she would do it more often than not. Old chums they were, but she would never admit upon the old part.

"I see that everything is well, and I am not needed to save us from disaster." Said Mairne, to which she smirked a little and gave a weak shake of the head.

"What were you expecting? That this little human here couldn't handle the pressure of command, please Mairne, I can handle this without you looming over my shoulders. Besides if you were here all day I would have to keep you from falling asleep, you poor old bull." She mocked playfully.

Mairne gave a snort of amusement and some irritation, it was true that his age was nearly twice as long as her own, but he still had some youth in him. His eyes worked perfectly, only slightly blurry. This little girl acted too much like a juvenile sometimes, it was funny really that a woman at her age failed to outgrow her own childishness.

"Careful there little Tyresa, I am not the only one with graying hairs." Mairne gave her a light jab.

Tyresa let her smirk become a little more vicious, while there was some more playfulness in her eyes, she didn't like it when someone joked about her hair, especially at her expense. It had only a few grey hairs in it, while still mostly golden blonde, it was very noticeable that her hair was going grey.

"That was a low blow, you old bull." Tyresa replied with a growl.

"Well, it is better to be an old bull who accepts his age rather than an old woman in denial." Mairne joked, offering an innocent smile while Tyresa's became much more forced.

One would call their relationship as both amusing and incredibly aggravating; usually they would jab at one another and make the other look the fool. Sadly today it was Tyresa who was made the fool, by the snickering of the few Draenei behind her she knew that she had been humiliated.

"That is not funny Mairne, not funny at all." Tyresa said, she cast her head to the side and gave a mock pout. But it only took a moment for it to disappear and her expression to become neutral, they had their fun - some more at the expense of others - and now they had business to discuss. "I take it you didn't come here to just play around, what can I do for you?"

"We have been given orders; the First Fleet has a mission for us of the upmost importance." Mairne stated gravely, the Tauren's face became one of stone and his words were just as gravely.

Tyresa only let her surprise show with the slight widening of her eyes, she schooled her features and gave the High Shaman her undivided attention. Any order from the First Fleet was to be taken very seriously, they were the strongest Fleet in the Army of the Light and only handed off missions of importance to those who they needed to complete an important task.

"What do they wish us to do?" Tyresa inquired, feeling quite excited about the possibilities, the First Fleet rarely asked for any aid, they were completely self-sufficient and fought at the front of the battle lines.

So when they come asking for the Seventh Fleet then they would hop to the task no matter the dangers. Many would not ask for their help specifically, but the thought that the First would was something to be proud about.

"They wish us to procure valuable materials from a world." Mairne replied. "Mostly food and metal."

"They want us to do what?" Tyresa asked, while her pride and expectations plummeting.

Honestly Tyresa should not have been so surprised, considering that the Seventh was not considered a fully operational Fleet it made sense they would get stuck with this. Their fleet was the smallest of the others, only having eight ships, with the smallest army and largest civilian population. They were better suited as support rather than actual combat.

None would doubt their skills on the battlefield or the dedication of their warriors, they had ample supply of both, but compared to the other fleets they were not as well equipped and capable as the rest. Almost every engagement the Seventh has taken part of has been to offer support to the other Fleets, there has not been a single engagement in the last seven years where the Seventh had led an offensive.

"There is more, this is not only for the First Fleet, they wish the other fleets to be resupplied as well. Metals, livestock, silk, medicine and other assortment of reagents, they have been in dire demand from the other Fleet for the last few months." Mairne replied.

Tyresa looked on at the order itself, reading over the assortment of materials needed, expected quantities for each Fleet. This was a tall order, in fact she almost suspected that the Seventh would be turned into a damn market rather than a combat force if they were going to be having to collect this much raw material.

"How long do we have?" Tyresa asked, the report was long, containing a lot of information and she didn't want to read through it all to get to when the Fleets needed their merchandise.

"Four Months." Mairne replied.

Tyresa lost some semblance of calm, her eyes widened and her mouth parted as she tried to hold back a shout of shock and indignation. Four months? That was virtually impossible, they had not the resources or even manpower to mine, herd and gather that much material in only that amount of time.

It would take longer than four months, that was for certain, worse yet how were they meant to do it when they had entire worlds that would not likely accept their uninvited presence. Most worlds feared them when they appeared, how would the inhabitants react to seeing livestock taken, forests uprooted and precious metals taken? It would be chaos.

"How? How do they expect us to acquire such vast resources in only four months and deliver it to them? It will take two months at best to reach the First Fleet from our current position and the other fleets are scattered across the Greater Dark fighting." Tyresa exclaimed.

"Myself and the other Commanders will be speaking on this matter tonight, we have several reports on some worlds that may have possible resources we can use, until then we are to remain stationary for the time being." Mairne reassured.

The High Shaman could understand the Paladins frustration over the situation, four months is not a reasonable timetable. The best the Seventh could achieve is maybe supplying one whole Fleet, maybe two. But the main issue was location where they could acquire these materials, if was not easy to do so on populated worlds.

But he knew the need for this mission, it was drastically important that the Army of the Light keep up its momentum. For the last ten years they have moved from campaign to campaign and pushed the Legion back. To stop now would endanger hundreds of worlds that have been saved from the Legion's touch. Their own relentless drive would be the end of them if they did not restock themselves, something that even the Seventh was in dire need of.

"I see, then I will keep you no longer, you have enough to deal with right now than to see how the fleet is handling itself." Tyresa replied with a sigh, she gave him a crisp salute which he returned with a nod; they parted there and moved to their respective duties.

Tyresa started calling out orders to the bridge crew, but also scolding them for laughing at her when she was getting a dressing down from her superior.

Mairne walked away he halted beside on of the terminals, two officers were working over it.

"Sergeant." Mairne called; drawing the young Draenei from her station and to attention.

"Yes Commander?" She stood at attention and offered a quick salute.

"Send a message to the other commanders, a meeting is to be held at sundown in the afternoon at the council chambers and they are required to attend, understood?" said Mairne

"Yes, contact the commanders of the fleet and have them meet at the council chambers at sundown shipboard time and their attendance is required." She clarified clearly, to which Mairne nodded his head and departed. He had much to do and not much time to do it, he would look over the request and the world the ship had scouted nearby, there should be a few worlds they could gather resources from.


Garadar, Sleeping Quarters

Fire, she felt it over her skin, blistering her flesh as she stood before waves of green fire. The unholy flames did not consume her, yet they gave subtle flickers of heat to remind her of their lethal touch. They parted around her, giving view to something other than bright green flames, her eyes gazed upon massive towers and spires that pierced through the flaming surface of the world that was like an ocean.

She stood in the midst of many black spiked towers; they moved towards the heavens and like swords pierced them, turning them crimson like a gushing wound. Bridges and highways intersected around the spires, ruined and forgotten buildings that once high crumbled into the roaring fires below.

Her lungs seized as she felt the hot air and ash meet within her throat, she wanted to cough and expel the foul polluted air but she could do nothing but bear with the searing pain within her throat and chest. But through the ash she smelled and tasted something in the air, like the ash in her mouth something metallic and copper brushed along her tongue.

Deafening screams and grinding metal filled her ears, so loud and sudden she felt her heart halt for a moment. A battlefield she stood within, on a broken and destroyed ruin two forced waged relentlessly against one another. Both were known to her.

The icon of the golden lion could easily be seen on the tabard of the soldiers, a warrior of Stormwind and the Alliance. Sword in hand, covered in freshly applied blood along with his armor, he took to his opponent with a roar.

The demon roared in response, its body bulging with muscle and blood red, slashing down with its equally monstrous weapon. Both weapons met in a spark of metal and a grind, the two struggling against one another, the smaller human did not buckle or relent under the massive Fel Guard, only fought harder to not give an inch.

All around thousands of others shared his resolve, fighting against the demonic forces of the Legion. She drifted away, above the city of black steel and green fire, above the battling soldiers and warriors of the Army of the Light and Burning Legion.

But the battle was not what her eyes set themselves upon, she moved across the city, moving towards a large monolith of a tower. Many smaller towers and over crops made up the exterior of the structure; over its surface were the tattered relics of different worlds. Millions of trinkets lined its surface, all and most were the severed heads of different species and races that had been driven to extinction by the Legion.

She soured above, reaching the pinnacle of the tower, a single jagged throne sat within a massive dome. Upon his dais and throne of thorns and fire sat the demon lord, a monolith of red flesh and muscle. Great tattered wings curled behind his back as he looked at head with piercing green eyes, burning any who he looked upon.

"You come to this world, my world." Kil'Jaeden said, his words thundering despite the quietness as he spoke. "I have led my armies in a million battles and conquests, seen to the destruction of countless worlds, gathered knowledge and power that you cannot begin to fathom."

He rose from his throne, stepping forward in slow steps; his footfall was filled with power and authority, as if to bring any who would stand defiant to their knees.

"I have faced greater foes than you; I have defeated greater warriors than you, and have seen to the end of entire worlds." The Demon lord growled. "Yet, you stand now before me, and think this transgression will go unpunished."

"Yeah, I was planning on something like that."

Draga turned to see another, a man standing before the Demon Lord, behind him stood many shadows. She could not see their faces as this young man, who stood at the head of a small army ready to face the Legion Lord.

"Arrogance at its finest." Kil'jaeden said with a sneer. "How do you intend to defeat me? My army is limitless, yours is not, even if I fall, you will never end this war."

"Don't worry; we plan on dealing with what's left of the Legion after you." The orange haired youth said, stepping forward and drawing a large sword from his back, black as the night. "I have walked across a hundred worlds that you have burnt, and through the remains of civilizations torn asunder by your army. If you think I will leave here without so much as your head, you got another thing coming asshole."

With a might leap he charged forward and towards the Lord of the Burning Legion, blade drawn back as a wave of force came along its wake. And with a might slash her vision was blinded by nothing but a sea of white light.

'The son of three kingdoms, child of a fallen angel born from the darkness and of Death forsaking his mantle to preserve life. He shall stand before the throne of the world, stolen by the unworthy successor. One blade shall shatter the foundations and the world will heave, his own blade shall strike at the new and restore the balance as it should.'


Draga woke with a shout of surprise, her hand moving for her weapon, halting only a few seconds later as her eyes adjusted to her dark room. She let out a breath, sucking in fresh air as she tried to control her rapidly beating heart.

Her hand went to her temple, rubbing it to remove the pain she felt through her skull. She had felt the wetness in her sheets and her sleeping robes; she had sweated through them quite thoroughly. With a sigh she quickly rose from her bed, there was no point in returning to sleep, even with how tired she felt she knew it was pointless in trying to go to sleep after such a dream.

'No, that was not a dream.' Draga reminded herself.

The last month had been quite hard on her, both physically and spiritually; visions of a future had been appearing in her dreams every night. Sleep had become a luxury she could not partake in, every night she would have visions of a world ruled by the Legion, the Deceiver facing off against a group of warriors.

Only one could be seen, an orange haired human man with two swords. That was all she knew, nothing more, and the riddle she had been given before the visions faded.

She had spoken to her master many times about this and he had counseled her, meditation and wisdom were what he offered, it helped some but not completely and every day it felt as if it was getting worse. Draga could not forget the worried glances he sent towards her, the concern in his eyes as she came to him with news of the vision and the words the spirits gave her.

She did not think it was the visions themselves that concerned him, even the warning they sent, or the context of the vision. It was that she was receiving them, as if he knew something she did not. Draga wondered if she too should be concerned, and if her receiving these visions were a blessing or a curse.

'They have not been very considerate to me as of late.' Draga mused.

Letting out a tired exhale she got up from the bed, she might as well go to the dining hall and see about scrounging up an early meal. She looked down and with a growl found her sleeping robes clinging to her, soaked in sweat, she did not want to start the early morning in damp robes. Putting on a leather vest and pants she left, entering the long and empty hall. Not a soul seen aside from the guards stationed at every intersection, she moved past them without a word.

The trip to the dining hall was just as uneventful; dawn had not even arrived yet for the ships time cycle, it was still early. She would suspect it is still early morning, likely an hour or so from dawn; none save for the guards would be up at this time. Maybe the Death Knights as they did not much for sleeping, often, and in that particular context.

The hall was over three hundred feet in length, running almost endlessly towards the edge of the ship where the void of the Greater Dark could be seen. The rays of a nearby nebula adding a brilliant green shine to the blue lit room, adding an even more beautiful ambiance into the chamber. She moved down the center isle of the chamber, four tables long either side of her.

She wanted to sit somewhere at the far end, if by chance someone came she wanted a little peace, and some food while she thought. As Draga took her seat she slumped forward, even if she decided to forgo sleep, she felt her eyelids grow heavy as she tried to remain awake. She was regretting not going to the bathing room to take a quick dip, waking herself up with a cool bath and then maybe meditate there for a while before coming here for breakfast.

But she wasn't exactly thinking of that for the moment, too much else was on her mind. Her mind went back to the dream she had witnessed, for the last month she could not think of anything other than that. Her visions showed a battle over the world that Mairne believed to be Argus, the Legion's homeworld; if that was the case she bore witness to a vision of the final battle between the Army of the Light and the Burning Legion.

But she did not see the outcome, only one man who was involved in the battle. Mairne suspected he was paramount to victory and possibly stopping the Legion. If that was the case than finding this warrior was the most important mission they had, if he had some role in the final battle he needed to be found. Sadly for her she had no idea if they had found him or not, if her visions were anything to go by he was still at large.

Draga jerked when she felt a hand on her shoulder, she turned and found a Draenei standing beside her, the lithe man looked down at her questionably. She missed his previous inquiry, so lost in her own thoughts that she didn't register his question or presence until now.

"Apologies, I did not hear you, what is it?"

"Can I bring you anything?" The Draenei inquired.

Draga realized he was one of the attendants for the dining hall, for a moment she wanted to smack herself for not trying to have food brought out to her. So closed up in her own thoughts she did not realize that an hour had already past.

"Yes, bread and stew." Draga said, deciding on a simple meal for now.

"It will be here shortly." The Draenei said, walking off and to the edge of the hall where the kitchens were.

Draga let out a heavy sigh; she had been focusing on this too much as of late, lost in her thoughts again. It had been like this ever since the visions started, strange happenings around her showing something was amiss. She would often hear voices in the halls as she walked down them, but there was none to see. In practice she would black out and find herself over a defeated foe, having no memory of their spar or how she was victorious.

Something was happening to her, and she didn't know what it was.

"Draga! What are you doing up so early?"

The young orcess let out an irritated growl; it would seem her peace and quiet had come to a tragic end with the latest arrival. Her head turned to see a large man moving her way, one of her acquaintances; she would call him a friend if he wasn't so damn annoying.

"Shouldn't you be catching up on your beauty sleep?"

"Shut up Derrick." Draga replied with a low hiss, her mood dropping lower every second and every step that the Alliance Captain drew closer. "I couldn't sleep, so I decided to get up early."

"Bad dream?" Derrick inquired, his face losing its silly grin and replaced with a frown.

He sat next to her, leaning on his large arms and giving her his full attention, something she was blessed with for the moment. She really hadn't spoken about it to anyone else other than her Master; he had cautioned her to keep this quiet for the moment. Draga did not understand why this was to be kept from everyone, but she respected his wishes.

Derrick did not know the details, only that she was suffering from a string of nightmares. It actually was a little comforting to have someone to talk with that could relate to her. Derrick had seen many horrible things in his time serving in the Seventh, and just to have someone to confide in gave her something to lean on for support.

"Kind of…"

"Hey come on, I'm here for you, tell me what's on your mind." Derrick pressed, trying to get his young friend out of her rut.

Draga considered it for a moment, but knew that if she told him he would likely get ideas about it, she trusted him as much as she could, but still there was only so much she could tell him. After all if she started talking about the warrior he might make some horrible joke about her fancying humans. Spirits forbid that he thinks that and try to set up another blind date for her.

"It's nothing really, just a few bad dreams." Draga replied, making it quite apparent she did not wish to speak on the issue of what was dreamed upon, he knew when to take a hint, even from a sixteen year old orc girl.

She mainly told him about her first battle, using that as a cover for what she was really feeling. But there was only so much comfort and support one could get when you are using a fabricated thing to draw support from.

"Alright I won't pry, but seriously you need to find other people to talk to, I mean shouldn't you confide in a Shaman or maybe get a boyfriend and dump these problems on him." Derrick said playfully, which didn't sound very funny to the orc shaman sitting next to him.

So many times he had said such things, about getting a boyfriend, and having someone to cuddle with and kiss and go on dates with. The concept was confusing, why would humans conduct such strange and pointless endeavors to gain the affections of another? Her people simply chose a mate and in a sign of commitment they would go on a hunt with one another.

This tradition seemed to pass right over his head, among most other intellectual things, and he kept insisting on using the human method of courting. Something that annoyed her to no ends, especially when he brought someone to her, and that Orc has been hounding her for months now.

"I do not want or need a boyfriend." Draga growled out.

"Listen, if this is about Galv I apologize, I know he was a little older than you might like but his heart is in the right place." Derrick replied. "I mean, he is the head of his own department in the Institute of Magic and Sciences, you don't see a Head Researcher title in front of an orcs name these days."

"Head Researcher? The crazed fool takes broken Goblin technology and tries to make it work, that isn't anything other than a crazed tinkerer making technology that even when functioning is prone to exploding." Draga replied with a growl, still reeling from the fact he brought that man right to her and introduced them.

It was the most nerve wracking moment of her life and the fact that Galv Hellhex had tried to recite poetry that Derrick had given him only aggravated her further. It was the most horrible moment of her entire life, and she wanted nothing more than to kill the both of them, right then and there.

"Yeah, heard he is making this incredible new weapon, he's calling it 'The Annihilator'." Derrick replied, his hands spreading it as if showing off a grand picture of the weapons name.

"Swell, hopefully it will blow up and he won't bother me again." Draga mumbled under her breath, this conversation was going to take a turn for the worst, premonitions or not, she knew it was going to happen. It always happened.

"Oh come on, I heard he has been trying to do anything to woo you, even heard he planned on bringing you flowers, that I have to see." Derrick replied with a smirk. "Hey, let's go get him, I am sure he can cheer you up real good."

"Now you listen here, if you so much as mention me to him I will hunt you down and personally ensure you will never have offspring, do you understand me?" Draga warned, her fist engulfed in a flicker of elemental fire, as Derrick leaned back and waved his hands in a yielding manner.

"I think you have given the Captain good reason."

Draga and Derrick froze for a moment before they both leapt to their feet, turning and giving their own signs of respect to the owner of the voice. Derrick offered a crisp salute while Draga bowed deeply, hiding her flustered expression.

"Commander." Derrick said, stone faced and rigid as a sheet of Titan Steel.

"Master." Draga followed after the Captain, rising from her bow and looking at her Shaman teacher with a look of embarrassment.

"Draga, I had hoped that these little outbursts would stop, you are a Shaman of the Earthen Ring and yet you continue to use your powers in less than desired ways." Mairne stated calmly, yet clear disappointment was heard in his tone. "For instance three months ago this hall had to be repaired because of a fire that broke out, as well as lightning, when you attempted to 'reprimand' the Captain here and a certain orc engineer."

Draga let her head fall a bit, hoping that she could get away with her master not seeing her flushed face. But he did not comment on her embarrassment as his eyes turned to the Alliance Captain.

"Captain Derrick Thatcher, I see that when not on duty you like causing trouble, my previous comment showing how such pranks often lead to consequences." Mairne stated, looking at the human warrior with narrowed eyes. "Try to keep such things at a minimum, you are a good warrior and skilled leader, but I fear with your current actions that it may be an act. If you cannot act like a leader, than there is no reason for you to remain as one, remember that before you start causing trouble again."

"My apologies Commander." Derrick replied, his face betraying no emotion other than solemnity.

"Good, I hope that the following days I will not hear from anyone the desire to have your reprimanded for some slight." Mairne replied.

Draga could only smile a bit at how he put Derrick in his place, he was her friend, but it was always good to see how he could squirm. Even if his posture and expression were like stone she could tell his tension at being in this situation, it was rare that for the Commander himself to do the deed.

"Now Draga, your love life is no concern to me, but if you feel the need to find companionship please try with someone of your own age, and mental stability. Galv tends to be… unstable." Mairne said, his face appeared serious, yet there was no mistaking the mirth in his eyes.

Derrick flinched for a moment, likely struggling not to laugh at Draga's embarrassment. Mairne may be the Supreme Commander of the Seventh Fleet and the Leader of the Earthen Ring Council, positions of great responsibility, yet he did often come down to stir up his own kind of trouble. That is why he was respected, his position was one of authority and dedication, and many knew he could fill the roles. Yet it was his strange humility despite this that gave him a level of approachability that few would find in other leaders.

"Now Captain if you are done here, I would like to speak with my apprentice, after all, I think we both have had our fun." Mairne said, the Captain saluted and quickly hurried off to get to his station, as the Human warrior left Mairne looked down at his young apprentice.

Mairne quickly looked at Draga, his serious eyes looking into her weary and red ones, it was obvious that she was tired and sleep deprived. He let out a sigh as he looked at her, even with her new robes he could see them clumping against her, even when dried down she was still sweating.

"Another dream?" Mairne inquired, he glanced at an attendant that set down a loaf of bread and a bowl of stew. When the Draenei left he looked back to his apprentice who hesitated to partake her mean. "Eat, and recover what strength you could not in your sleep."

"Yes Master, the dream was the same, the battle on the Legion world and duel between the swordsman and the Deceiver." Draga replied, her words a whisper as she partook of her meal, she looked up at her master, hoping for something.

"I know you want answers, but I cannot give them to you, the riddle you have given has proven much more complex than I had originally thought." Mairne replied, which was true, the riddle was very abstract and had to put down.

It likely referred to the boy himself, but it made reference to two things that he did not understand. Referring to an Angel born in darkness and Death that chose to preserve life, the context he did not understand.

He had tried to see if the boy existed within the Fleet, if he was a young warrior under his command. Sadly it had not seemed he was among the Seventh, he had made pleas with the other Fleets but they had not responded to his hails. Eventually he was forced to speak with Commander Henrick Solvari, his counterpart within the Second Fleet, to see if he could locate the boy in the other Fleets.

He had been receptive, but said that it would take time to get any information from the other Fleets; their engagements would take their attention from finding a single soldier within their ranks. And that was if the boy had even been born yet, or was of the age they were expecting.

"I fear that we may not know the true meaning behind the riddle, especially without the context behind it, all we know is of the battle, and not the one who fights in it." Mairne finished.

"There has to be something, his mother could be a Paladin, and maybe his father a Death Knight, we don't know. Maybe a Death Knight that was able to conceive a child, possibly?" Draga said, pulling at strings and hoping they would bring possible clarity.

It was obviously frustrating her as to why she was receiving visions of a future she had no idea how to interpret. It was as if it was to come to pass, but the people who were fighting in it were not all there, that boy with the orange hair was one of them. But he was one among a dozen shadows, and if he was the only one seen why was he so important? Yet why was his presence so elusive.

"I do not doubt his origins are far from normal, but without any way of finding him this is difficult, we have no name or even assurance that he is actually human. But I will continue to look into this, and try to find out where he is, I have no assurances I will find him, but this vision is of importance, and I will not stop until he is found." Mairne said, giving his apprentice the assurance that her visions would not be ignored, and neither would her needs as well.

"Thank you master." Draga said, smiling slight at her teacher, to which Mairne patted her on the head like a child of his own blood.

"Of course my pupil, now get something to eat, you have a long day ahead of you." Mairne said, turning and moving for the door, but halting for a moment to say one last thing. "Also, do try to get some rest when you can. Kalgu told me that you fell asleep in the spirit shrine again, the spirits had mixed reactions, but do try not to do that again."

Mairne let a small smile tug along his face as he heard a loud groan and something hitting the table in defeat. He did not keep it thought; he knew what was happening to her, for he had seen it before. The visions were only the precursor to what was starting; he suspected she was hearing voices as well.

It would not be long; he had experienced something similar to her when he was near her age. She was changing, and he did not know if she was ready for the changes that were to occur.


Garadar Council Chamber

Mairne stood at the far edge of the council chambers; he had come here to give himself some peace as he prepared for the meeting. Admiring the stars from a window always seemed to calm his nerves, and it allowed him to think much more clearly. At the moment he had much to think of.

His young student, Draga, was showing the potential to become something more than a shaman. But for the moment he pushed that aside.

The current status of the Seventh Fleet within the Army of the Light was a concern, especially with what they will be viewed within this war. Their forces were small, dreadfully so, in fact they could not be considered a true fighting force anymore. But a small infantry Division, just scraping past the point of being one forth the size of the other fleets within the Army of the Light, it was pitiful.

They were not a strong military force anymore; they had been reduced to almost nothing in terms of military might. It was sad that this force would go down like this, to end so quickly.

In a way those thoughts related to this meeting, the missions they had been given personally by the First Fleet. Their mission had been to restock the expended supplies of the other fleets, in a way it was important to keep their war machine moving. But the fact that their task would likely never end was them trying to hide the fact they were asking them to forsake fighting and instead pick up somewhere that they could do. It was insulting really, that they had been given this task, instead of being said to do it they had been conscripted into the task.

'But maybe there was a way out of it.' Mairne mused.

While looking over the report his pilots had given him something, a file pertaining to worlds within jumping distance. One of them was of note, something he intended to bring up with the rest of the command staff when they arrive.

The sound of doors being pushed open drew his attention away from the window; the Shaman turned and found a group of people enter the chamber. Each was the commanders of the different military and fighting forces within the Seventh Fleet, ranging from the Alliance and Horde, to the Argent Crusade and the Shanxi Temple.

They moved to the large meeting table in the middle of the room, a large metal table crafted with a glass face and with finely crafted purple crystals in each corner for decoration. Mairne took his seat at the head of the table and the other commander did the same along the sides, glancing at them all he began.

"Many of you are wondering why you are here, it is not often this is done outside of a combat operation, so I will be brief." Mairne said, in front of the Commanders were each two reports, copies of the one he had received from the First Fleet and from his pilots. "I received this after the assault on the previous Legion Stronghold on Turalan. We have been given a mission by the First Fleet."

They all opened the reports and quickly skimmed through it, some finishing it quicker than others. But within the first minute everyone wore the same expression as the one next to them, quiet irritation. Mairne did not doubt they were livid about the mission they had been given, it was an insult to send warriors to perform manual labor. That was especially true when the ones sending them did not have the decency to ask them up front about it.

"This is ridiculous!" Lucius Dreadmoore shouted, he let out a snarl of anger and slammed his armored fist into the table, nearly cracking the surface, yet he did not reign in his anger. "They expect us to scrounge through the dirt for metal and food!"

"I have to agree with the Death Knight." The calm and crisp words of High Marshal Lysander Reinhart stated, aside from Lucius this human was still alive and much older in his years, his greying beard and what remained of his hair showed that. "We are a battle group, not farmers or convoys; the tasks the Fleets have sent us over the last seven years have been far from grand."

"He's right, ever since the loss of most of our military force we have been scrounging for anything they give us, and now they decide it is not enough and send us to mine and plant crops for them. I refuse to accept this, and I will not order my knights to till fields when they were meant for war." Blood Knight-Captain Vedorthil Dawnspear said with fire in his tone and eyes, tapping the report with his crimson armored finger, slowly burning a hole through it with his holy power.

"Yes and Six Fleets will ensure that if we start we will never finish, they are turning us into damn menial servants." Danforth Lich-hunter said, leaning back in his chair and letting out a sigh, his words were gurgled and hard to understand, his rotting body hidden beneath his robes, but his voice giving away his undead condition.

"They cannot actually expect us to follow this order, even if the materials they require are needed they cannot actually think we would do this indefinitely." Vedorthil growled out, leaning forward in his chair and looking at the warlock, expecting him to make a comment.

"I suspect we can do this within a year, with every resource we have, as dreadful as it sounds we need to do this." Manath said, sitting next to his Warlock counterpart, both were members of the Kirin Tor, although Danforth was part of the more secretive Black Kabal that existed as a dark sect within the Magi sect.

"He is right, if we have no resources to continue fighting, the Army of the Light will become pointless, we need to do this, even if it is a blow to our pride." Kallista Glaivestorm said, her face obscured by her green cloak, but they could see her eyes become downcast and narrowed.

The reports did say that the other fleets were in danger of being under supplied in their next engagements and were in desperate need to restocking. They were low on food, armor, weapons and even basic oil and fuels for their war engines. If they did not find replacements soon, they would be stuck with fighting with poor armor and no vehicle support. That would be disastrous against the forces of the Legion.

"Alright, fine, how long do we have to do this?" Vedorthil relented, looking over towards Mairne.

"Four months." The High Shaman replied, each head snapped to him in shock, the expressions clear on their faces and a new hoard of obscenities left their lips.

Four months, to acquire several hundred thousand tons of food, metal and other assortment of materials that would be valuable to the Fleets, it was impossible.

"There's no way, there is no bloody way we can come up with these kinds of resources in that timeframe, it would take over a year, maybe even two if we want to get everything we need." Lysander stated with a deep frown, it was very true, there was no way they could raise several hundred thousand tons of food and materials for the entire Army of the Light.

"It would seem the First Fleet has sent us on a fool errand, likely as a joke at our expense." Fulgrim Razorwing said, the Arch Druid did not express any emotion in his words, although his face bore an irritated grimace at the implication.

"A joke! Is that what we are now? Something to laugh at because we have fewer men than they do!" Lucius growled out, a snarl on his lips as he turned toward Mairne. "You send a message back to those sons of…!"

"Calm yourself Death Knight." Vedorthil growled out.

"How can we stand this? Be made to look like damn fools, I have had enough." Danforth said, about to rise from his seat.

"Then maybe we can do something about it." Mairne said, halting the argument and bringing all attention towards him. "As you all may be aware, this mission is not about just resupplying the Fleets, it is also about the fate of the Seventh Fleet."

Many heads sank at the comment; there was no denying that the Fleet was slowly starting to fall apart. Their numbers were quite low, despite having a large civilian pool to draw new recruits from, and it was hard to survive in an environment as hostile as the Universe. They have only thirteen thousand soldiers under their command, less than a third of the strength of the other Fleets.

"Our numbers are quite low, and they continue to dwindle as we fight to replace those we lost, often at times we do not have time to even mourn our dead." Mairne stated, looking around the table and seeing some faces fall to that comment; many of their predecessors had fallen and never had been given a proper rest. "Now we stand on the precipice of the end of our Fleet, the end of the warriors of the Seventh."

"This mission wasn't given to us out of spite, was it?" Aurrius asked, the young Knight-Captain of the Argent Crusade looked at Mairne. "It is them showing pity."

"Pity?" Lucius replied, looking confused for a moment, before he scowled. "We don't take pity, from anyone."

"I see, so that is it then." Kallista said, her head falling as if she just realized what was happening. "We are no longer needed."

Everyone knew then what this mission meant, it wasn't meant to end with them just getting what was needed. They would continue to do so from then on; their numbers were too small for them to act independently anymore. The Seventh has a stigma against it; they were looked down upon by the other Fleets for being support rather than actual military reinforcements.

It was a sad fate, but one that came upon them quite early, for a long while the Seventh has only known to be the support rather than a reinforcing fleet. But it would seem that the Army of the Light has decided to move its forces around and no longer will the Seventh be considered a true fleet. That would destroy what little moral was left in this dying force.

"Appears so, they could have worked up the nerve to tell it too our faces." Danforth hissed out, ready to leave as he pushed back his seat.

"Wait a moment." Mairne called, but Danforth turned on him and jabbed a finger at the Shaman.

"If you think for a moment I am going to sit by and listen to you say this is meant to happen, you can forget it and shove that spiritual crap out into the nether, I am done being the lapdog for those bastards." Danforth said, and it appeared so were several others.

"Then how about we show them as such?" Mairne said, halting those who seemed to be prepared to leave the meeting. "Recently my pilots have scouted out several worlds; one of them caught my interest. Look to the second report."

The commanders opened the reports and read over its details, as they did Mairne spoke on it in more detail.

"A survey ship had discovered a small system which has eight separate worlds, one that is inhabited, by humans." Mairne stated, some surprise lit up on the others faces; usually a single race does not exist on two separate worlds, especially humans.

"Human? How is that possible?" Vedorthil asked, looking over the report for any details on this, finding that they were the dominant species and had a population exceeding six billion.

"A mystery for another time, but it is not important." Mairne continued on. "These humans appear to be highly advanced, have a great amount of unique technology, as well as a large amount of resources. Resources that they have easy access to, access we can use."

Their eyes lit up with understanding.

"How much are we talking about here?" Melanie Gearbottom asked, she was a representative of the Institute of Magic and Sciences, sent to liaise for Albert Metamatter, the leader of the Institute.

"Enough to fill this quota, along with extra." Mairne said, a small smirk gracing his lips. "Let us give them what they wish, and while doing so, be thankful in the knowledge that when we give it to them, we may look upon their surprise and anxiety as they cannot ask us to continue this task."

There was a shift in the room as each of the people present had a sense of satisfaction that they could not only get out of this task but also show up the other Fleets. It did feel quite satisfying to be able to do what they could not do. It would be even better when they shove it in their faces for thinking they can just pass them by and give them this menial task without any reproach.

"When do we start?" Danforth inquired, interlocking his bony fingers together, clearly more interested in this than before.

"Immediately, as soon as this meeting concludes we depart, we have little time to waste." Mairne said.

"Does this world have a name?" Lysander inquired.

"Officially it is called F7-023, but the humans call it Earth." Melanie Gearbottom said, looking over the scouting report.

"Sounds unoriginal." Lysander stated, getting a laugh from a few.


Notice

Thank you for reading the updated version.