3.
No More Time

Wrathion shielded his eyes and gazed upon Pandaria spread far and wide below them from atop Mason's Folly. From the south he could see the lush green hills of the Valley of the Four Winds and the leafy woods of the Jade Forest roll away. Roofs made of red clay tiles and bamboo peaked through the canopies like the heads of giants. To the north and west lay the Ancient Passage, a burbling blue vein winding south through the land and breaching the horizon where it met the sea.

There were many other rivers in Azeroth, but none was so captivating and clear a jewel than the Passage. It made the breath hitch in his throat, stirring the vents housing the dragonflame deep within his throat. Nothing could dare match its majesty or the sight he was now beholden.

This was but a slice of the world, a crowning achievement. And if nothing was done soon, it would be awash in a tide of demons cold and heartless and burning everlasting.

"Are you sure we can trust her?" Kairoz asked from behind him. Wrathion turned to the bronze dragon incognito. In his high elf guise and sparkling, winged robes he cut a dashing figure that the other would have otherwise mistaken him as an enchanter of the Kirin Tor or the Sunreavers, for he carried a large hourglass filled with sand. Sand crushed and ground from epoch stones the warrior, the hunter, and many adventurers collected to power the Vision of Time.

Wrathion shook his head. "I don't know. I have never met her before, but the words in her letter seem sincere. I want to hear her for myself before I can say for certain what we should do next."

"You sound very confident. It's unlike you to be doubtful."

"I'd like to be believe her, I really do." His brow furrowed. "But it's because of her that we can't go ahead with our original plan."

"We still can. We don't need Garrosh to unite the clans and send them here through the Dark Portal. Can't you disguise yourself?"

Wrathion rolled his eyes. "If I could I would've done that a long time ago! And, well, in a few more years. I am two, you know. In dragon years. And though I might be a rogue, I'm not some ninja that can replace himself with a, a, a log! That kind of stuff is for amateurs!"

"So you would do it, if you could."

"Exactly!"

"But not anymore."

A tic throbbed on Wrathion's upper right eyelid. "No. Not anymore." He looked upon the land again. Somewhere, in another part of the world, night was falling. The people and the animals over there would be getting ready for an evening of solitude or going to bed. Some would live to see another sunrise, but there would be others that would see their last sunset and die before the coming of the new day—perhaps due to illness or wounds sustained in battle.

How long would this last? How long before it became hell on earth?

"We will change the future, Kairoz," Wrathion declared. "Count on it."

"Yes," said Kairoz, studying the Vision of Time. "We will. If we have to destroy time itself, then so be it."

"…and here we have this timeway, which once was formed but has since collapsed," said Eradormi, in draenei form, and gestured to the woman the blocked tunnel. "This used to lead into the End Time, a potential future in which all life on Azeroth would be extinguished by the madness of Deathwing. But even he was not spared, for he had expended himself bringing about the apocalypse. It is thanks to the heroes of the Alliance and the Horde that they found our great leader Nozdormu and stopped the Infinite dragonflight from blocking his route back to the past." She looked at her, and saw the unease plain on her face. "What's wrong?"

The woman started. "Ah, sorry. Hearing that…It reminded me of something that happened to me a long time ago."

"My apologies. I hope I didn't bring up any bad memories."

"No, you're fine. What's done is done. That can't be changed."

A shadow passed over the custodian. "Yes, you're right. Still, there's the future to look forward to and protect. That is simply a duty we cannot forsake."

"Pardon me, ladies," said a dragon named Nil, coming up to them in high elf glamour, and looked to the mortal. "Kairozdormu has returned and is asking for you. He's also brought with him a guest, Wrathion of the black dragonflight. Is that alright with you? We were not told he would be with company."

"Let him stay. I had a feeling he wasn't coming alone, anyway. Where are they?"

"They're by the incline where you came in from. Shall I escort you, just in case?"

"No thank you, but I appreciate the offer." To the custodian she said, "Thanks for the tour. It was very informative."

"It was my pleasure," she said, and bowed low. "Come along, Nil."

They went their separate ways. The woman rounded the large circular platform holding up the Sands of Time, a massive hourglass spilling its grain into several overhanging bulbs. In the center a bronze dragon larger than the rest of his brethren slept, tail curled and head resting between forelegs rippling with muscle. This was Anachronos heir to Nozdormu the Timeless One, and she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.

From the edge of her vision she caught Eradormi and Nil whispering amongst each other. They cast brief looks in her direction and then turned away. She did the same, passing by a lumbering drakonid without a word.

Kairozdormu and Wrathion stood at the base of the ramp, a pale-skinned high elf in glittering robes and a dark-skinned human in turban and clothing that reminded her distinctly of the type people in the Dead Dunes would wear. There was a spear strapped to his back, crackling with lightning, and it looked so large and thin on a small person like him. He brought to mind someone who fought with such a weapon, and the thought that went through her mind forced her to suppress the grin threatening to break.

The gunblade swung back and forth on its holster, the leather creaking.

"Kairozdormu. Wrathion," she began, looking each in turn. "I see you've brought what I asked."

"Aye, so we did," said Kairoz, nodding. "Although it's not really much of a secret; only the Timewalkers and the adventurers I've worked with know about the Vision of Time. I should like to present this to Lord Anachronos—"

"There's no need," she said. "Besides, it's not the right time. How many times have you used it, anyway? It might still require some fine-tuning."

"I've only used it six times, each turn more powerful than the last…but you do have a point. As you can see, I have pouches filled with the stuff that increases its power, but I haven't so much as touched it since before the assault on Orgrimmar."

"We will, eventually," spoke Wrathion. "The integrity of the world depends on it…depending on the plan you have in store for us, miss…?"

"You'll know my name soon enough," said the woman. "If all goes well we will put it into motion, and before you know it the Legion will be no more and Azeroth's future secure."

Wrathion nodded. "I will do anything to protect my home. I am a black dragon, the last true black dragon in existence, and by the decree of Khaz'goroth the Shaper and all the Titans it is my duty to reclaim my birthright forgotten by my father in his madness. Some may call me evil or a monster for how far I will go, but I simply see it as the only way to prepare everyone for the battle to come. I will unite them by force and assert my dominion over them if that's what it takes!"

"You'll get your chance, Wrathion. And yours as well, Kairoz. With this spear and this artefact, we will be elevated to heights hitherto unseen since the Dragon Aspects became mortal or even the Old Horde when they were imbued with the blood curse."

Wrathion's face darkened. "The Old Horde…I wanted to do something like that, had Garrosh lived. You wrote that your source saw that he would've been apprehended and put on trial for crimes against the world, yes? When I read your letter, I had come with the idea of breaking him out of prison and, with Kairoz's help, utilize the Vision of Time to send him back into the past, to Draenor, and reunite the orcish clans under one banner. With them he would seek revenge on his enemies but at the same time empower and advance the Mag'har to the level of technology that was present in the True Horde. Oh it would drive the draenei and the other races to war, and the orcs would carve their path of destruction to return to the present and fight against the Alliance and the Horde when they're currently worn from breaking the Siege, but it would have united them. Brought them together against a common threat not seen since the First War, and it would test them as to whether or not they will come out of it stronger to counter the Burning Legion. Because, let's be honest, as they are now they don't stand a chance in hell. Those demons that came through the Dark Portal and staged their offensive in Outland and the Sunwell? They got lucky.

"But that chance is gone, and so too the timeline that would've been born from it. Garrosh may have turned the Horde—Vol'jin's Horde—against him, but he had the right idea. He had the power, the arms to flatten the opposition and take what was his. Is it wrong? Very much so, but I never cared for ethical and moral alignments. He had the Kor'kron and the majority of the orcish force, along with goblin mercenaries and an eternally grateful blood elf turncoat, under his command. And he could've done it, if you hadn't killed him." Wrathion was now glaring openly at her, his frown severe, and eyes hard like steel and blazing red like the fire in a forge. Kairoz looked at him in a cocktail of awe, respect, and a little fear.

The woman, however, shrugged. "I don't regret what I did. It had to be done."

"You may have very well damned the world to its doom. Do you want that on your conscience?"

"I don't…but I think the Alliance and the Horde are strong. Maybe not now, but in time they will. They have to recuperate and mend their relations."

"But it's impossible! They're divided! A divided world can't stand against the might of the Legion!"

"It doesn't matter to me if the Alliance exists because of the Horde or the Horde exists because of the Alliance. They're strong, stronger than you realize."

"But not strong enough!" Wrathion said, exasperated. "Don't you understand?"

"I do. I just don't agree with you. But I have faith in them. Perhaps they will have the strength and courage to tackle the task we give them."

"I very much doubt it."

"Maybe she is right," said Kairoz. "They are divided, yes, but in a sense they are united. I have heard that all the leaders came together and decided upon the terms of their treaty, so they're not fighting. It wouldn't bode well for any of us if they did years from now when the Legion comes. We can't have that." He put a hand over the Vision of Time hanging on his belt. "My brother and sisters don't want that, either. They have become lost without their power, but soon I'll bear them this gift. It will make them glad and strengthen not only their spirits but their resolve to fight."

"Even if it's against their own brethren and the mortal races they swore to protect."

"Yes," he said, sadly. "Like Wrathion said, I will do anything to keep Azeroth safe. To go back on my word would bring shame not only on myself but to everyone I love and know."

"We won't fail them. We'll stop the Legion before they ever step foot on this land."

"That's if Kairoz and I deem your plan appropriate for our case," said Wrathion.

"That's right," she said. "I've been so busy rambling I almost forgot about it." Wrathion shot her an incredulous look that screamed You can't be serious. "Sorry about that, I tend to go off-track these days."

"We shouldn't talk here," said Kairoz. "Let's go to the tavern. Upstairs, preferably. I'll have Alexston bring us some drinks and sheets of parchment so that we may write and take note of any ideas we can think of. Play off our strengths and weaknesses until it's perfect."

"Good idea," agreed Wrathion.

"Before that," said the woman, "may I have a look at the artefact?"

"Oh, of course! You've never seen anything like it before, I take it?" Kairoz undid the ties securing it and, with surprising gentleness, passed the Vision of Time to her. "Be careful not to turn it too much. We're standing on an endless web of time, and you may not like what you see."

She spun it around in slow, small circles, noticing its every detail with interest. "So this allows you to see into the future, yes? It doesn't take you there."

"No. It can only see into specific moments in time, moments that may or may not come to pass."

"I see," she said, more to herself than to the dragons. "Yes, I see it now." She admired it, turned it over again—

Then the magic sparked in her hands, and she flung it at their feet. The glass shattered, spilling sand everywhere.

Kairoz jumped back, horrified. "N-No! What have you done—!"

She ran him through.

"YOU BITCH!"

Alexston Chrome, the bartender for the Tavern of Time, whirled around. "What the hell?"

Watsun shoved his tankard into his hands. "Stay here!" He unsheathed his shield and mace and ran down the ramp. The Light thrummed in his hands.

When he reached the bottom, his mouth flew open.

There were bodies sprawled in a circle and leading away in a jagged line towards the Sands of Time. The bodies of bronze dragons, in guise and in true form, their blood seeping out from cruel wounds onto the desert like ink blots. They did not move.

Two things caught his eye as he observed the gruesome scene, and each made the hairs on the back of his neck and forearms stand to attention and his throat run dry.

The first was that the fallen were exuding black particles that dispersed in the air. On their skin were blotches of black scales struck with blue and off-white veins.

The second was the woman, who had taken out the party of Infinites outside the Caverns of Time, send the spear Wrathion was holding flying and knocking him to the ground.

A high elf and a draenei garbed in the mooncloth robe of custodians rushed at her from behind, large black wings bursting from their shoulders. Their talons extended from wrists too small to bear their weight.

She spun on the balls of her feet, she was upon them like lightning, her sword winking in and out like a mage's blink. Watsun watched, barely registering the grip loosening on his weapons. The warm comfort of the Light fled, leaving only cold reality.

Eradormi and Nil collapsed where they stood, their last sounds on earth a short, despairing gasp.

Footsteps pounded behind Watsun, and he didn't look to know it was Alexston. "Sweet, merciful Light!" he exclaimed.

"Come out, cowards!" the woman cried. Her front was splashed with dark blood, her sword dripping a silent testament. "Come, and embrace the dirge of your demise!" A crowd had gathered from afar, mortals and dragon alike, frightened and shocked speechless. Some Timewalkers and drakonid had their weapons drawn and readied.

From his perch Anachronos reared, wings trembling and bearing his fangs. "What is the meaning of this?" he snarled, and rumbling forth from the lowest and deepest recess of his cavernous chest.

The woman regarded him coolly, but then she saw Wrathion on his knees struggling to find purchase on his feet. She swung the sword out and he stopped cold, staring down cross-eyed at its bloodied tip. He swayed, stumbled, and fell back on his haunches.

To Nozdormu's heir, she said, "Look around you. These people you've called family and friends? They were sleeper agents of the Infinite dragonflight! Some of them you've known for centuries, for thousands of years, waiting for the day to overthrow you all!"

"I see what you see just as clearly, and it shames me that I had not seen this sooner." He gazed upon them, the patches of dark scales like rashes, and the vaporous mist breaking down their very beings that would not even leave dust behind. "No, not only ashamed but furious that I didn't think to investigate further, though it leave many of my kin uncomfortable."

"It would've happened either way, but your lack of foresight might have cost everyone their lives."

Dragonfire hissed from his nostrils. "It might have, but it might not. The future is beyond our ken. I was remiss in my duties; that I will not excuse, and your actions I shall pardon. But what you have done to Kairozdormu"—he eyed the disguised high elf, on his back and clutching the fatal wound on his chest that ended him, staring in horror and grief at a perpetually starry night—"I cannot forgive. He did nothing wrong!"

"Nothing wrong?" She swept her sword at the remains of a broken hourglass. "Do you see that? That was an artefact your 'friend' had made from stones comprised of solidified time he had adventurers collect for him on the Timeless Isle to look into possible futures."

The crowd gasped, and they murmured among one another. Anachronos stretched his neck out, intrigued. "He did this? And it was successful?"

"Yes, it was. And he was going to show it to you all." The woman glared at Wrathion, and he quailed beneath her. "He would show you the final moments of your lives."

"He would never do that! What proof do you have?"

She took a step toward Wrathion. "Why don't we tell him, son of Deathwing?"

He backed away, groping blindly for the spear. "Tell him? Tell him what? I know nothing!"

Another step. "I don't think you do. I know you do." Step. "Let's tell him how Kairoz would've used the artefact to open a path to the past—to Draenor, in the years before it fell to the might of the Old Horde." Step. "Let's tell him how you would've gone back disguised as the late Garrosh Hellscream, persuade the clans from imbibing in the blood of Mannoroth, swear off the practice of dark arts, and unite them all under a single banner of orcish supremacy." Step. "With the few Kor'kron and goblin loyalists you had left, you would've smuggled the iron star technology and a great number of arms to supply the clans. You would appoint Grom Hellscream, Garrosh's father, as leader of this Iron Horde and leave them to their devices. To test the draenei, to see how well they would fare against them."

Step. "In the two years you would stay on Draenor, the Iron Horde would've almost completely wiped them out. Their reach would spread far and wide across the continent, clash against the proud arakkoa and the clans that refused to join them; and when they would become too bloodthirsty to be contained, you and that traitor would activate the Dark Portal you would've had them construct and lead the charge into the Blasted Lands." Step, step, step. "And to think: this would all be done for the good of Azeroth! Because the Alliance and the Horde stand not united but divided!"

"She's lying!" Wrathion shouted at Anachronos. "I don't know what she's talking about—!" He looked up at her and she looked down at him, a storm of anger and disgust on her face.

"Did you ever stop to think who else you might bring to your quest?" she said quietly, dangerously. "Did you stop to think what would happen to the Iron Horde after they were done? You didn't, did you?"

"We have to protect this world!" he cried. "If we don't do something, the Legion will overwhelm us!"

"Your actions would've brought the Legion through the Portal and the end of the world as you know it!"

Wrathion grit his teeth. His hand found the haft of the spear, grabbed it, and lunged at her with a cry. She dodged to the side and kicked him across the face as he turned. He let go of the weapon and dropped to the floor. A chipped fang sprang from his mouth and stabbed point-first into the sand.

The woman appraised the crowd, the Timewalkers and drakonids falling into defensive stances, the mortals shrinking when her eyes passed over them. Alexston flinched. Watsun licked his lips and adjusted his hold on the mace.

Anachronos dug his claws into the platform with such force chunks of stone crumbled underneath. He looked at Wrathion, at the bodies, at the woman, and then at Wrathion again. "This was your doing?"

Wrathion pushed himself into a sitting position, clutching his mouth. He spat out a wad of blood and said through the swelling, "It's her fault! She started this whole mess by killing Garrosh! It's because of her this world will die!"

"Wait!" said Watsun, and suddenly all eyes turned toward him. The woman only glanced at him. "That was you?"

"It was," she said. "If I hadn't stepped in, everyone would've been fighting to get the final blow."

"What about the ceasefire?" Alexston said. "Did you talk them into it, or did you force them?"

"I did no such thing. They didn't expect me to pop in like that, that's for sure."

"But how long will it last?" asked one of the mortals, a female gnome. "The last time they held a ceasefire Putress and his Forsaken rebelled and covered the Wrathgate in blight, and look at how that turned out!" Everyone murmured their agreement.

"It won't be long before another war breaks out."

"Their peace is tenuous at best."

"They're getting along so far, but anything can happen."

"Did the King do the right thing?"

"Can Vol'jin restore honor to the Horde?"

"What about the other nations? Are they okay with this?"

"I sure as hell bet that wench Sylvanas isn't!"

"If it doesn't last, the Legion will surely overtake us!"

Anachronos grunted and swerved his great head toward the woman. "So, child, what comes next? The line of Hellscream is no more but the Alliance and the Horde coexist and recuperate, moving toward an uncertain future. The Infinite dragonflight are still at large, and without this artefact we will be unable to guess when they will strike again."

"Nothing's set in stone, but you can be prepared for it. You have your Timewalkers if they try to tamper with the past."

"Except they have the advantage. Since this has all stemmed from your doings, how will you fix this?"

The woman threw her head back and laughed, a rough and sultry sound that would have come off as pleasant under different circumstances. Then she sobered up, pointing the sword at Anachronos. "The only things that need fixing are the Infinite dragonflight and the Burning Legion, but I'll cross that road when I get there. The first order of business…will be taking care of you."

The bronze dragon sneered. He rose to his full height and unfurled his wings. "You dare to challenge me, heir to Nozdormu? Don't be foolish! It is not my time."

"The time of the bronze dragonflight will eventually come to an end, and your father will fall to madness. So why wait for to happen when I can eliminate the threats from within while I'm here? As you are now, you're not going to get anywhere unless it's under my command."

"You play a dangerous game. A game you have no chance at winning."

"Oh, this won't take long." She snapped her fingers, conjuring a spark of lightning. "Not long at all."

The Timewalkers and drakonids gathered themselves and rushed at her. Anachronos tensed the powerful muscles in his legs, and his talons broke chunks off the platform. Watsun and Alexston stood and Wrathion lay where he was, watching as they closed in on the woman. She stood there, unmoving, the expression in her eyes shadowed by the fall of her unusually pink hair.

She lifted the sword before—

"What in the Lady's name are you doing, Lightning?"

And nearly stumbled head over heels as a bolt of energy slammed right in front of her. There was a sound of thunder, and the force created a shockwave that blew away the Timewalkers and pushed Anachronos's wings fast against his body. A gout of sand erupted like a geyser.

The woman, Lightning, had thrown her arm up to block the shower from hitting her eyes, so when she lowered it she couldn't help but blanch at the girl before her. Actually, she couldn't take her seriously with those feathers tucked in her silvery hair and the white slip hanging off her waifish frame; she reminded her of a chocobo. Her arms were crossed over her chest, looking very unamused.

"Y-Yeul!"

"You had one job, Lightning. One. That job is done. This?" She indicated the sweep of dead Infinites, startled Timewalkers and drakonids, and a very confused Anachronos, with a nod of her chin. "This wasn't on the agenda. At all."

"I was going to save the world," Lightning ground out. "From the Legion. From themselves. I'm doing them a favor!"

"No, Lightning," Yeul sighed. "You would be doing the same thing as Garrosh did, were he still alive. Anyone protesting a one-world government under the rule of a total stranger would be crushed without a second thought."

"But—!"

"We're going home now. We've made too many changes to their true timeline, and I'd rather not be around when Nozdormu returns."

"He probably already knows!"

"And he's going to be very angry if he finds us here. Come now, let's go."

Lightning shook her head. "We can't stop here. Think of how much we can improve the quality of life on this world! Think of how many lives we can save and the lives we can end by altering history in a way that'll give Azeroth the fighting chance against the Legion!"

Yeul sighed again and pinched the bridge of her nose. "While your intentions are very noble, I can't allow this to continue any further. I had a feeling this would happen, so I came up with a Plan B."

Lightning huffed. "You're going to forcibly remove me from this universe whether I like it or not?"

"I could do that, but that would be too easy and not as amusing."

"So what? What's this big, bad trick you have up your sleeve? Because try as you might, I'm not budging."

And just as she had finished saying that two more bolts struck behind Yeul, followed by a third that almost seemed delayed. Amid the clouds of sand, the energy formed and solidified into two human shapes and a small, round shape.

Lightning's mind went blank. "You didn't," she said.

"I did," said Yeul, smirking.

The young man lay where he was, spreadeagled, his legs falling to the ground with a thump. "I think I broke something!" he groaned.

The little creature with the bright pink nose and the giant wand in its hand flew around in a circle, the crystal on its head swaying with the movement as he took in his surroundings. "I don't think we're in the new world anymore, kupo!"

Then there was the young woman, shorter in stature and femininely thin, but her hair was the same bright pink and her eyes the same glacial blue. She went right up to Lightning and jabbed a finger at her chest. "Claire Farron, what have I told you about attempting world domination?"