Chapter 3
Light Casts a Shadow
Ha'laar watched in horror as nearly a thousand pounds of rubble collapsed on top of his daughter and her captors. Renewed strength surged through his tired limbs and he pushed his way through the flailing combatants as if they were not there. His eyes were focused on one thing, the spot where he had last seen Yerdua.
He arrived at the mountain of stone and blow back the rubble with a flash of Light. There, in between two deceased Scourge agents lay his daughter, disfigured horribly by the crushing weight. He cried out and dropped to one knee, pouring Light into her still frame. He hoped against fate that she could still be saved, but his efforts were futile; she was dead.
Tears streamed down his face and he rose once again to his feet. He placed his hand on the side of the building to steady himself, but it encountered no solid surface. Momentarily forgotten, Ha'laar raised his hand, staring at it, as its texture changed. He roared with pain as waves of energy engulfed his body causing his form to dissipate and reform so rapidly he felt as if he was no longer solid. Driven to his knees, he was forced to watch his skin melt away into pure shadow, powerful shadow.
And then it was over.
But yet it was not Ha'laar that rose unsteadily to his feet, grinning maliciously at what he had become. His entire body had somehow melted into the darkness that he had fought so hard against for so many years, and yet, he wanted this, he wanted retribution, vengeance.
~*~*~*~
Ha'laar savored the moments of his enemy's coming destruction. Faint streaks of dusk painted the horizon, signaling that the night was almost over. He stood atop the tallest spire in Silvermoon City and below him the battle continued to rage. In front of him floated the monstrous necropolis that had brought the Scourge to the elves capitol. The necropolis was completely black, save for the pale-white texture of dragon bones which were woven into the vertexes of the pyramid. Ha'laar knew the fortress still held quite a large number of Scourge forces in it and he was not going to let what happened to Yerdua go unpunished.
He gathered as much energy as he could fathom into the palms of his hand, and hurtled it at the necropolis. The devastating blast impacted on the side of the structure, and all who were below it looked up to see. He garnered power from the farthest corners of his reach and energized his strike with renewed power, watching with satisfaction as shadow tore through the hull of the Scourge war bringer.
Unable to stay in the air, the ship began to plummet downwards into the northern forests of Eversong Woods. He smiled as he thought about walking among the wreckage searing the survivors with burning shadows.
Suddenly he dropped to one knee, clutching his head, "What are you –" he began, but was interrupted by his own voice.
"You know full well what I am, I am you, and… you are me?" the imposter laughed, "How fitting that one so weak as you could command such power, if only I, you, had known about your abilities, you could have had the power to save my – I'm sorry, our, daughter."
Ha'laar fought for control of his body, but his foe was far more powerful than himself. "I'm not going anywhere," the imposter cackled. "Not until ever last Scourge in Azeroth has been slain and their bones ground into –"
Ha'laar cried out, "Light, save me!" and then there was silence, blessed silence. Ha'laar held himself tightly and cried for his daughter, and then he slept.
~*~*~*~
