(AN: This looks like it will be a short story [no more than ten chapters]. Like I said, baby steps.)

(In what could be considered an "original draft" for this story, I had a certain ending planned out for how this story would go down. But it could either end in one of two ways: the first way would have nerfed a certain well-beloved lore character [i'll give you three guesses as to who this character is, which would have made you readers decry Melissa as a "mary sue". The second way involved Melissa being slapped around by said lore character, which none of her companions wouldn't have stood for. This would have ended with a hilarious scene of Khadgar basically being a doofus and saying that, even though they know said person is a threat and that they saw them attack Melissa, they're still keeping them around.)

(So, like with the novelization of Return of the Jedi, which gave lip-service to the darker first draft ending of that movie [the one all of you who praised Empire Strikes Back, Rogue One and The Last Jedi actually preferred over the one we got, I have a moment here of inner dialogue referencing that ending.)


Retribution

The burning wastes of Antorus met their sight as the light dissipated. No such place that they had been to in all of their days rivaled the grim darkness of this place. The ground was black and hot, speckled with glowing embers of fel-fire here and there, or in some places raging conflagrations or pools of boiling fel. The air was thick with ash and the smell of sulfur, so that no one could breathe for very long. Doleful howls of the wild demons in this place echoed among the raging infernos, and there was no wind to hide the noise they made.

Melissa had read many books on theology, from the clerics of Northshire and those of Tyr's Hand, as well as the tomes used by the first Order of the Silver Hand. It was an early belief among the human peoples that those who were corrupt, vile, and malevolent went to a burning place of torment when they died; the abode of demons. This was dismissed by the pretentious, "all-knowing" mages of the Kirin Tor as nothing but a myth to frighten children, but some still believed that 'hell' was a real place. There were whispers of an underworld beneath the surface of Azeroth - the Dark Below - where nameless monstrosities older than the Night Elves slept in death-like slumber. Some said that the Shadowlands, or that Draenor, after it had been corrupted by the fel magic of the Orcs but before it was shattered and turned into Outland, were hell.

In her eyes, Antorus was hell.

No sooner had they phased into this place of desolation but they paused for a moment. Gar and Melissa knelt down; she kept her hand on her staff with her head bowed and her eyes closed, while the Tauren felt the black ground with his large, four-fingered hand. Bart, meanwhile, removed from a magically-enhanced pouch of his a bottle of water, from which he drank.

"What a dump!" he exclaimed. "This looks like the kind of place that Rowan would love."

"Who?" Marion asked.

"Tia Rowan," Bart replied. "A...um, acquaintance of mine."

"Acquaintance?" Fizzie asked in disbelief.

"Yes, just that," Bart quickly added. "Remember that time someone asked me to be a character witness for them? That was her."

"Mhmm," Fizzie replied, her eyes still narrow in scrutiny. "Not exactly a decent person, if she'd love a dreadful place like this."

"Precisely," Bart said to her in an aside.

Leshara said nothing, as she looked warily this way and that. This was still 'home' to her, and she remembered it as it was. Though her family had lived in a village on the outskirts of Mac'Aree, Argus was still her home and she had seen pictures of the beautiful golden fields and violet mountains of Antorus. No matter how many times she came back here, she still felt the emptiness of this wretched place: the fields were a wasteland devoid even of fungi or any other thing that fed on rottenness, and the mountains were black and rugged.

"Hmm," muttered Gar, speaking in Common. "The spirits of this place are tormented and broken. Countless years of fire and darkness have corrupted this land beyond recall. There is no water here, so I cannot call upon the spirits for healing or cleansing. The other elements are tortured and mutilated, but I may be able to reach out to them."

Melissa was deep in prayer, calling upon the Light to be with them. After a while, she lifted up her head and gazed into the darkness above. Perhaps it was the shadow that had gripped this world for eons out of count, or some vestige of the Twisting Nether that had been ripped apart and brought with Argus when Illidan brought it to Azeroth; for whatever reason, the sky was always black. At night it was full of stars, while during the day, it was only black, while Azeroth's sun shone as a lone ball of light in the sky that gave little light to this hellish world.

It was day today, and in the black sky could be seen the distant shapes of four heavenly bodies in the sky. The distant sun as a golden orb, and the two moons as silvery-white, one half-hidden and the other fully visible. Here, visible as a massive globe that filled less than half of the night sky, was Azeroth; the darkness that gripped Argus made it appear faint and distant, like an emerald star, from the world below, while here Azeroth was plainly visible and naked. A dark shadow of cloud loomed over one side, while on the other a keen eye could make out the continents of Azeroth, where the Horde and the Alliance played out their endless war.

"There it is," Melissa said at last, pointing upward. "Home. It looks so small from up here."

"Earth-Mother," Gar prayed aloud. "Bring us back to you."

"Amen to that," Bart agreed; not that he was particularly religious, but this place was hellish enough for him to wish that he believed in something.

Now they mustered their courage to walk once again into the mouth of hell. These six then made their way on foot toward the place where Leshara had indicated; she had still the map with them and would direct them as she knew it. As they were leaving Light's Purchase, Melissa changed to see, in the corner of her eye, a very large demon standing within the camp, wielding war-glaives wreathed in fel fire. She had half a mind to call the others to defend Light's Purchase from attack, when suddenly her heart sank.

That demon was Illidan Stormrage.

As she looked at him briefly, she noticed the fiendish grin upon his face; so much like Xavius the Nightmare Lord. He seemed to enjoy this hellish landscape as much as it sickened all of them. Within her came a desire to confront the Betrayer with everything she had learned about him: she held no delusions, however, that he would actually confess to his crimes, even when confronted with the truth. Knowing him, he would have either reveled proudly in his crimes, blamed his brother, or dismissed them as "necessary." Her anger burned hotter in him as, back into her mind, she recalled his destruction of Xe'ra, the Prime Naaru. In light of all that she had learned, another desire came over her: a desire to smite him with the Light, to show him what happened to those that refused the mercy of the Light. But that path could only end in pain: he would attack her, maybe even kill her, and the Kirin Tor would cover up her death, or dismiss it in some way.

She saw him talking to someone; the person looked familiar, but she could not get a good glimpse of the other figure before she turned back to their mission.


From Light's Purchase they began to move southward, towards the tall ridge where Leshara was directing them. No sooner had they passed the luminous barriers the Army of the Light had erected to protect Light's Purchase, but suddenly they became distinctly aware of their surroundings. A low-pitched howl was heard somewhere in the distance off to their left. Bart squealed uncomfortably and took another sip of the water from his bag (a gift from Tia Rowan, which he had magically enchanted to be larger on the inside and weigh many times less than what was put within).

Suddenly, from the left, one of the creatures leaped down from a cliff that hung over them and came to a sprawling land in front of them. It was a felhound, the dog-like stalkers of the Burning Legion. Where its eyes were none could properly guess, but its back was covered in large grasping claws upon long, skinny arms like tentacles. It let out a low growl and slowly approached Bart, making a straight line toward him.

"Have at ye, ugly!" Marion shouted.

The Dwarf ran at the felhound, shield raised up to the guard. Throwing her entire body into the blow, she collided with the demon shield-first, knocking it off balance and onto the ground. Leshara spared no time in drawing out her sword, a Draeneic blade that glistened with magical crystals about the hilt and pommel, and driving it into the belly of the beast.

"A felhound stalker," Leshara said as she drew out her sword from its belly; glowing with fel, fiery blood. "Mana seekers."

"Oh, um..." stammered Bart. He seemed distinctly aware of the danger he had placed them all in by being with them.

"No," Leshara interjected, knowing exactly what he was thinking. "This place is dangerous to everyone. You are in no more danger than any of us."

"We both know that's not true," Bart mumbled.

"Oh, come off it," Fizzie interjected. "You're safe with us."

"Quiet, ye lot!" Marion whispered. "These filthy demons can hear us as well as sense us."

A roar echoing from the hills punctuated Marion's warning; they had been discovered.

"Fizzie, Marion, on me!" Leshara ordered.

"Gar, Bart, stay back and give them cover!" Melissa added.

A trio of felhounds appeared from around the corner of the cliff before them. Marion let out a roar, slamming her hammer upon her shield, ready for the battle. Bart sent a brilliant, azure missile of arcane magic whizzing from his hand: it struck one of the felhounds in the face, but it kept on coming. A blast of Holy Light emanated from Marion's hammer, striking one of the demons square in the mouth. An acrid smell of burning flesh and sulfur filled the air as the demon writhed in pain. For a moment, it was halted while the other three continued charging.

"Shields!" Fizzie exclaimed to those on her sides. The Dwarf, who was close to her height, raised her shield parallel to the ground, while Leshara did likewise to her. With a yell, the little Gnome leaped up onto Marion's shield, and the Dwarf pushed her up into the air. She landed on Leshara's shield, and made another impressive leap onto the back of the nearest demon, driving her short sword deep into the writhing back of the felhound. The large demon collapsed under the weight of the little Gnome and her deadly knife. Meanwhile, the third one came to a skidding halt as it saw the unexpected attack of the Gnome. Its tendrils lashed out to seize her.

The felhound's tendrils burst into flames, which slowly spread to its body. Suddenly a large chunk of molten rock came flying through the air, exploding upon the demon's body in a shower of orange liquid that clung to it. A laugh came from the bovine lips of Gar Earthwalker.

"Fire and earth are still strong here!" he chuckled. "Even weakened, the elements cry out against the beasts that have tormented them. They long for retribution and we shall give it to them!"

"You dare mock the Legion in our own land?" a deep, demonic voice rumbled. "We will break you as we broke the elements of Argus!"

There was a burst of fire, and felguards, the line-soldiers of the Burning Legion, appeared to fight them. Leshara, Fizzie, and Marion charged at the felguards, the Draenei and the Dwarf with their shields raised. The beasts were almost twice as tall as Leshara, and their axes blazed with fel fire. Leshara knew how to deal with these kinds of demons, as she had fought many of them during the Draenei's endless flight from the Burning Legion. As such, she would shout out orders to her comrades, telling them where to strike. Bart stayed back, trying to cast arcane missiles at the demons, but failed: he wondered why his magic was so much weaker here.

One by one, the felguards fell to the ground, their bodies letting out bursts of violent green fel-fire. Once the last one was dead, Leshara ordered them onward, up the hill to the overlook. As they gained the top, they could see the capital ships of the Burning Legion - large monoliths of black stone and fel magic - hovering overhead in the sky. Some remained in orbit while others were making their way to other worlds, or to the much easily-accessible Azeroth. Ever and anon, a platoon of light-forged war-frames would descend upon them and destroy maybe one or two, then break up as a swarm of fel-bats scurried after them. The endless battle continued overhead, as the Armies of the Light and the Burning Legion fought for control of Argus.

At the top of the hill, they found themselves on a large plateau of black rock. Large pinnacles of rock jutted starkly out of the ground here and there, like twisted fingers of some titanic beast of yore, a fel-corrupted ancient. At the far side of the plateau there stood an Eredar warlord; not quite as colossal as Kil'jaeden or Archimonde, but much taller than even the tallest of the Draenei. He stood out, a crimson speck amid the chaos of green and black: for the moment, he did not seem to notice them.

"There he is," Leshara said to the others. "Kogaash."

"The way is clear," Marion noted. "Let's kill the bastard!"

"Wait!" Melissa shouted.

From one of the capital ships above, a flaming green meteor came crashing down to the ground. It landed but a few feet in front of Marion as she was charging towards the Eredar warlord. From the crater, large boulders began to coalesce around a flaming heart of fel fire. It was not a meteor or a cannon-shot that had been thrown at them, but an infernal. It came to life in a colossal form before their very eyes, blocking their path. In answer, Gar let loose a bolt of lightning that struck the demon in the chest. On Azeroth, so great a blow might have done some serious damage: but here, in its own world, fueled by the fel energies of the Legion, it staggered backwards.

"Destroy it!" Leshara shouted. "For the Light!"

The two warriors and the paladin charged the infernal, striking at its rocky legs. Blasts of lightning and an occasional burst of Light came from Gar and Melissa, which slowly began to eat away at its form. Bit by bit it was falling apart. Marion delivered a stout strike to its shin with her hammer and the rocks shattered. The infernal stepped backwards onto a foot that was now shorter and fell on its back. The three of them leaped upon it, slashing and slamming their weapons into it, until at last the rocks broke and the fire dissipated.

"We have him now," Leshara said.

"Oh, you guys go on ahead," Bart mumbled. "I'm useless to you."

"Oh, Bart, don't say that," Fizzie stated. "You just need to dig deep into your bag of magic tricks and pull something out that these demons won't be able to control or use against you."

"Quickly," Leshara said to the others. "We might be able to take him by surprise..."

The deep voice they had heard before laughed again. If they thought that one of the felguards had spoken before, they were not proven severely wrong.

"You thought you could take me by surprise?" the voice asked. "How pathetic. I have watched your path since we were reunited. Long have I sought this chance, and now, ekliein, it has come to pass."

"Never call me that again!" Leshara shouted. "You've forfeited the right!"

"Why?" asked the voice. "You are still the object of my desire."

The Eredar turned about and began to walk towards them, slowly and determinedly: there was no rush, for there would be no escape for them. As he came into view, Melissa gasped as she saw the exact likeness that Leshara had described to her. But there was indeed something horribly wrong with the Eredar, something different to what had been described. It was like gazing into a dream and seeing a loved one stare back at you, distorted into a nightmarish horror. The skin was crimson red, the eyes burned with fel fire, and the ground burned where he touched it with his cloven hooves. The forearms were covered in spiky, horned growth, such as some of the Illidari had upon their own arms. In his hands was no weapon, but the massive size of his body and the heat radiating from the fel fire upon his hooves and in his eyes foretold of his immense power.

"So," the Eredar said, as he stood before them. "You have come back. I didn't think you had it in you, coward."

"I am not a coward!" Leshara retorted, her face set with steel.

The demon laughed. "Are you, now? You and your prophet fled into the arms of your impotent light, because you were afraid of true power. This power!" He let out a roar that shook the ground upon which they stood. "The power to unmake worlds, to live forever, to be the gods we were meant to be."

"Silence, Kogaan!" Melissa shouted. "We have not come to parley with you."

"I am Kogaash the Annihilator," the demon replied. "I have burned countless worlds in the flames of the Dark Lord Sargeras. You are no match for my power."

"Feel the wrath o' the Light, demon!" Marion shouted as she charged into battle, shield raised up to the defense. With a mighty slam she crashed into the demon's leg, causing him to stumble backwards. Gar sent a bolt of lightning that struck the demon in the chest while Fizzie charged into the fray, aiming to either sever his tail or cause some nasty cuts into his foot.

Bart, meanwhile, who was frustrated at his lack of usefulness, stood behind Gar and stroked his beard, as he tried to think of something. Just then he had a thought which brought a wide smile to his face. If he could not directly attack the demon, he could use his magic to bring harm to the demon in other ways. Clandestinely he fired a small arcane missile at one of the rock spires, then cast a levitation spell on the debris before it tumbled to the ground. With the demon distracted, he would not see what was going on until it was too late. With both hands outstretched and his face scrunched up in concentration, he moved the rubble right over the demon's head, then dispelled the charm. Large rocks crashed down upon the demon's head.

"Whoo-hoo!" exclaimed Bart.

"Insignificant whelp!" roared Kogaash in anger. With one fist he struck the ground, causing a great fissure to break beneath the feet of Gar and Bart. A huge four-fingered leathery hand scooped up Bart, then rushed forward with a gust of wind until they found solid ground with a thunderous clap.

"Thanks, ol' bull!" Bart said.

"Don't mention it, little Gnome," Gar returned.

Leshara, meanwhile, hadn't yet joined the fray. A hesitance had fallen over her; she knew what he had become, but she also remembered all that he was as well. She remembered talbuk rides in the golden fields, summers in the countryside, and the warm embrace of his strong arms. Surely there must be something left of the old Kogaan still in him.

"Leshara!" Melissa cried out.

Stirred from her thoughts, she saw a blaze of fel-fire crashing towards her. She rolled out of the way just before it hit her, but still she did not join the fray.

"Your comrades are brave to stand against me, Leshara," Kogaash said. "Yet you hide behind them? Are you not a coward?"

"No!" Leshara replied. "I am merciful, even to you."

"Mercy?" laughed Kogaash. "Did you show mercy to the hundreds of Orcs you have slain in your life?"

"They slaughtered my people," Leshara returned. "Like you have. But there is still a chance that you can be saved."

"Save me?" Kogaash exclaimed. "How naive. What is there to be saved from? With this power, I am unstoppab..." A strike through his right hoof from one of Fizzie's short-swords sent him back, howling in pain and kicking violently, trying to extricate the annoyance.

"Quite a chatty bastard, aren't ye?" Marion asked. "So much fer yer fel magic!"

"Enough!" Kogaash roared. He slammed his fist into the ground again, sending Marion and Fizzie flying off him. A barrier of fel flame burst from the ground, cutting them off from him. "I will soon show you my full power; if you survive, that is. Servant, deal with these pests!"

An infernal strike crashed into the ground between the flaming wall and the party. Out of the fire arose not an infernal, but an Illidari demon hunter. With a sudden realization, Melissa remembered the figure she had seen talking with Illidan less than an hour ago; the same figure that had falsely accused a druid of being a demon.

"I said that you'd all pay for mocking me!" Lyvandyr shouted. "Now feel my wrath!"

With lightning speed he sped towards Melissa. She scarcely had time to throw herself out of the way to avoid being hit, and fell face-first into the hot, blackened earth. Then in another dash, he leaped at Gar: the Tauren was too slow to move out of the way and took the blow, stumbling backward. Lyvandyr swung his blades and struck Gar in the stomach, cutting through the hide. His war-glaives bore drops of Tauren blood upon them as Gar howled in pain.

"Stupid cow!" Lyvandyr sneered. "Your precious elements have no power here."

"Oh, yeah?" Bart exclaimed. "Well, how about this?" A blast of frigid wind struck Lyvandyr's legs, freezing him to the spot. Bart chuckled. "You may be a demon hunter, but you're no demon. You're affected by magic just the same as the rest of us."

"Not a demon?" Lyvandyr returned. "That's where you're wrong. Master, please, give me power!"

The Night Elf exploded in a burst of fel-flame, metamorphosing into a large demon, similar to the Nathrezim but with a black body. The icy bonds shattered from off his legs. With murder in his flaming eyes, he charged towards Bart. Using a quick and efficient, but short-ranged, teleportation spell, Bart blinked several yards away. But the demon was fast and would not give up the chase.

"Stand still, coward, and face me!" Melissa chastised. With one hand held out, she commanded with her voice and the Light flowed through her, causing Lyvandyr to come to a staggering halt. Slowly she approached the incapacitated demon hunter as Marion and Fizzie circled around behind him. She had yet words to say to him.

"Is this what your sacrifices have all been for?" she asked. "Trading your soul to serve the Legion in exchange for power?"

"Silence, ignorant human woman!" Lyvandyr retorted. "You know nothing!"

"Nothing?" Melissa replied. "I've seen who your master truly serves. Every action he has taken has been to serve his own lust for power. He endangered the world by serving Kil'jaeden."

"You're just as short-sighted and lacking vision as the druids!" scorned Lyvandyr. "As all of the Night Elves! Were it not for the Legion that you scorn, all of your world would be devoured by the Nameless Void! We are the only hope for the salvation of life in the cosmos!"

"Do you really think I'm that stupid?" Melissa asked. "Or as gullible as you are to believe the lies of the Burning Legion? You would save the world by destroying it? Are you so blind that you can't see that you're doing exactly what the lords of the Void want?!"

"I'm not blind, you're blind, you ignorant b*tch!" moaned Lyvandyr. "And your Silver Hand is blind, and your Earthen Ring is blind, and the druids are blind, and-and the Night Elves are blind, and Tyrande is blind. Everyone is blind except for Lord Illidan! He knows that the Light is weak and unable to stop the coming darkness: only the power of the fel can do that!"

"You say that as you stand there, consumed by the fel, serving the lords of the Burning Legion," Melissa shook her head. "And mocking all that you claim to defend. You are the one who is weak, Lyvandyr."

"Shut up!" cried the Night Elf. As the power of Melissa's word of chastisement started to weaken, he broke free and rushed at her. With one swipe of a demonic, horned and clawed hand, he swiped her aside, sending her flying through the air and crashing against a large boulder. She cried out in pain as she struck the rock, bruising her back.

But that was enough to snap Leshara out of her hesitation. The others, also, refused to stand for this; the harm of the one who always had their back for them. Lyvandyr ran towards Melissa, gloating for the kill to come, as he transformed back into a Night Elf. But his lack of vision caused him not to see the little Gnome warrior who came running after him and drove her short-sword straight through the tendons of his left leg. He fell to his knees, crying and screaming in pain.

"I didn't see that one coming!" he shouted. "Curse you, you stupid little Gnome! You will not be the death of me!"

"But I might!" Marion said, as she threw her weight against him. Though the Night Elf was tall, she was short and her center of gravity lower than his; her slam threw him to the ground just as Leshara leaped upon him. But the Night Elf was still determined to escape this fight and held up his glaives to fend off the blow. Leshara's sword struck just at the right place to shatter one of Lyvandyr's glaives and send the sword piercing his chest: it struck his right side, between the sternum and the lung.

"No!" he roared, and kicked Leshara in the stomach with his right foot, pushing her off him. Heaving and gasping for air as his lung pushed against the sword, still lodged in his chest, he pushed himself up onto his feet. He turned towards Melissa, or at least what he thought was Melissa, and pointed threateningly at the empty air.

"You cannot defeat me!" he returned. "I have the power of fel on my side, while your light is weak and pathetic!"

"No!" Melissa shouted. Again her rage began to boil over and her eyes blazed with Holy Light. But this time, bruised as she was, she could not cast all of herself into her rage. As she breathed through the pain, she found herself becoming calmer. Slowly she rose to her feet, with left hand extended out towards Lyvandyr.

"It is you who are wrong," Melissa said. "What good is it for you if you save the world but lose your soul in the process?"

"Foolishness!" Lyvandyr retorted.

"No," Melissa shook her head. "This is the truth. You have made your choice, and now you must live with it. Those who refuse redemption will be consumed by the Light."

"Go ahead and try it, b*tch!" sneered Lyvandyr. "I'm not afraid of your light!"

"You should be!" Melissa said, as she laid a hand upon Lyvandyr's shoulder. "Your hands are stained with the blood of innocents. Your soul you forfeited in exchange for fel power. There can be only one verdict for such wickedness."

Where her hand touched his shoulder, a bright light burst forth. Lyvandyr screamed out in pain, writhing beneath her touch. The Light coursed through his body, illuminating every scar and fel-tattoo that he had placed upon himself.

"No!" he cried. "I won't die like this! I...I cannot die! Not like this! No, no! Please, Lord Illidan, save me! I've...sacrificed...too much!"

"You chose your fate, to wield the fel, and sacrificed your soul," Melissa returned. "Now you must live with the consequences of your actions. You became your scars, now your scars will destroy you."

"No!" Lyvandyr cried out. "This is not what Lord Illidan promised me!" He screamed and cried as the Light filled him all over, finally reaching up to his head and shining through his eyes. There was a bright blast of light, and then silence. There was nothing left of Lyvandyr the Unholy: not even ash.

"Amazing!" Bart exclaimed. "Thought he'd never shut up!"

"Leshara," Melissa said, turning to the Draenei, her eyes still burning with Light. "Now you know what you must do."

Leshara's eyes were filled with tears. "I can't do it."

"Of course you can't, ekliein," the voice of Kogaash taunted. All eyes turned once more to the Eredar; the wall of fel fire had vanished and the demon had become larger. His flesh was burning with fel-fire, and swirls of it moved about his hands. Suddenly a blast struck Marion, and another took Fizzie. The Gnome was thrown to the ground, while the Dwarf roared in anger and charged back into the fray, throwing herself at the demon.

"Break, child of the earth!" Kogaash said, kicking Marion into a rocky spire. He then turned to Bart and Melissa and spoke a curse in Eredun: they both collapsed under an invisible weight. Bart fell face first onto the ground, while Melissa collapsed on all fours. Then with one hand, Kogaash cast a spell that lifted Gar off the ground and began to crush his wind-pipe. He laughed with delight.

"I've strangled millions of creatures, ekliein," Kogaash said to Leshara. "They take so long to die, and it is so, terribly, painful for them."

"Te kano ekto'edos!" swore Leshara angrily in Draeneic.

"I believe you will," mocked Kogaash. "But first, I offer you again what I offered you all those years ago. Accept the fel. Become the goddess you were meant to be."

Leshara hesitated once again. Every one she knew and loved was now half-dead, even Melissa seemed broken and bowed underneath his curse. Though she cared little for the Horde, Gar was not wholly without honor and virtue. The death of even one person in this fight against the Legion was a mortal blow, as already many had died: Tirion Fordring, Varian Wrynn, Captain Bradoc, Ysera, all those who had died when Rakeesh attacked the Exodar, the Prime Naaru Xe'ra, the Troll warchief Vol'jin. Yea, even the deaths of the Horde, as welcome as they were for her, were not cause for cheering when they were destroyed by the Legion and used as fuel for the fel. If she could prevent anyone else from dying, was it not worth it in the end?

If she accepted the fel, she could stop him here and now and give them time to leave while she threw him and herself into one of those lakes of burning fel that simmered and broiled just below the ridge. She would certainly have the power, there would be no doubt about that. She could stop one demon and...but was it truly stopping him? She heard about how the demons would only reform in the Twisting Nether after their bodies were destroyed. Was that, then, her fate? To be destroyed and reformed, and be locked in endless battle with the one she had once loved? The centuries had been long and lonely ones without him. Even if it was a cursed existence, she would at least have him.

"Le...shara!" a voice strained behind her. Turning about, she saw Melissa lying on the ground. But she was no longer lying on the ground; no, she was kneeling on the ground. In her hand was the staff of T'uure, which blazed with Holy Light. She could hear a soft, melodious tune, seemingly weak and faint, but unyielding: it carried over the cacophony of fel and doleful noises of Antorus and filled the air about them. The Draenei's heart was touched with a warmth and she felt the age and stress in her bones fade away.

"The Light...endures," Melissa's voice spoke amid the song.

"Still you defy your fate?" laughed Kogaash. "You are a fool!" He turned back to Leshara. "You rejected the fel once before. Embrace it now and we will be together forever. I know that you care for these foolish mortals: accept the fel and I will spare their lives."

"No, Leshara," Melissa struggled. While the demon's focus was on strangling the Tauren and tempting Leshara, the power of his curse was fading over the one person he underestimated. She began to regain control of her limbs and was now in a kneeling position, uttering prayers to the Light, pleading for strength.

"Yes, foolish woman," Kogaash mocked. "Pray! Beg the Light to save you, as it saved Xe'ra from Illidan. You have no power here."

"That's where you're wrong, demon," Melissa returned. "The fel cannot conquer and the shadow cannot endure. The Light's power is here, for it lives in us."

The song reached out to all those around her, filling their hearts with hope and healing their bodies of wounds. Marion, Fizzie and Bart woke up from their attack, a little dazed but otherwise well: they had not died when they were struck, but severely wounded.

"Impossible!" roared Kogaash. "The Light is not stronger!"

"Your darkness has consumed many worlds," Melissa spoke. "But it shall not be vanquished by fighting fire with fire. Only the Light shall cast out the burning shadow."

"Never!" Kogaash returned. "Leshara, ekliein, you cannot let this foolish mortal do this! The fel is the only thing stopping the void from devouring all life! If the Legion falls, your world will be destroyed!"

"I loved what you were, Kogaan," Leshara sighed. "You can still be that. Come back to the Light!" She could scarcely believe what she was saying: in all of her people's exposure to the evil of the Burning Legion, it had never been recorded of a demon being cured of the fel. A fallen Naaru, yes, which gave lie to the demon's words, and those of his lackey Lyvandyr and of Illidan, that the void was stronger than the Light: but a demon? Was it even possible?

"Ha!" mocked Kogaash. "Do you seek to mock me? Shall I bow and scrape like a lowly beggar before the impotent Naaru and beg for their mercy? That I surrender the gift that has made me a god? I would sooner see you burn!"

"Then you have no desire for me," Leshara said, a look of grim resolution in her face. "Only for your own power. You have chosen oblivion..." Her hands gripped the hilt of her sword tightly. "...and you shall have it."

Leshara said nothing more, but charged towards the demon as fast as she could. She leaped off a rock and threw herself sword-first into the chest of Kogaash. Her sword pierced through its lungs. Kogaash let out a hellish roar of agony, and bursts of fel fire erupted from the blast.

"Quickly! Quickly!" Bart exclaimed. "Step into the circle! We're teleporting out of here before that demon explodes!"

For one moment, Leshara hesitated, wondering if she should stay here and die with him. She had lived a long life, and had seen many victories and many more crushing defeats. It would be good to rest. But the thought vanished as she remembered the song and the beacon of Light: the Light was still strong, even here in the darkness of Argus. There was still hope left. With a loud cry, she tore her sword from the demon's chest and kicked off from his body, her hooves landing on the ground. Turning to look back, she saw Marion and Melissa dragging Gar between them into the circle, while Fizzie was squealing for Leshara to hurry. The Draenei turned her back on Kogaash, then sprinted over to the circle, giving Marion and Melissa a hand and pulling the large Tauren into the circle. There was a brilliant flash of emerald light, then pain.

The next thing they knew, the light vanished and they were once again at Light's Purchase. Far away, they could see a brilliant flash as the fel fire burst out of Kogaash's broken body. Leshara looked back for one moment, then shut her eyes: she felt guilty for having doubted the Light or for seeking to embrace the fel in that dark moment.

"Leshara?" Melissa spoke up. "I..." The human looked over her shoulder, then stepped in closer to her Draenei friend. "I didn't want to say anything out loud, but, well, back there on the plateau, you hesitated."

"Yes," Leshara ruefully replied. "I did."

"You weren't actually thinking about accepting his offer, were you?" Melissa asked. "Remember all those things you said at the Heroes Rest? I didn't think..."

"It was a moment of weakness," Leshara said. "Thank the Light that you are mortal, vrachei. The burden of a long life is too great for anyone; in the end, it would break you, as it nearly broke me."

"But you didn't break," Melissa stated. "You resisted the temptation. What made you choose to resist?"

"Many things," Leshara said. "I've lived for over ten thousand years without him, after I left Argus: I can face the future without him. And there is still so much more for me to do on Azeroth. And you."

"Me?"

"Yes," Leshara nodded. "You reminded me that the Light is stronger." She threw her arms around the shorter human, who returned the gesture.


(AN: And there is the big battle for this story. We also get our little semi-resolution to the Illidan back-story quest-line. I'm amazed that people still worship Illidan even when the game itself shows that the demon hunters can barely control the fel [and yet everyone believes that Alleria and her crack elves can control the Void, which is apparently bigger and badder than the fel].)

(I usually shy away from using magic in my stories, since it feels like a cop-out. I remember CinemaSins arguing, in one video about a movie where there was magic, that conflict disappears once magic is involved. Since a lot of people complained about the lack of magic in my Elder Scrolls series, I had Bart use arcane magic much more liberally in this story: granted it was difficult here in Argus, with all those demons running around. Also the stuff about the demons hunting arcane magic came from the Warcraft III lore [another reason i don't buy the whole "power is neutral" thing from the nu-lore, or the Nightbourne cheating the system with their little Nightwell. Curse you, Blizzard, for making me quote Jesse Eisenberg's Lex Luthor unironically].)