Chapter 10: Year 7

"What have you got there young one?"

Blackheart's attempt at hiding his trinket back in his satchel was unsuccessful. The white glimmer of its shifting surface could be seen across the hut and besides that, Dentarg seemed to sniff magic out even better than Bee although the young ogre had been brought up to believe that those of his kin with a single head were mostly dull and dim-witted creatures with no touch for the mystical arts. Over the past few years, however, Dentarg had made Blackheart forget everything he thought he knew about magic; under his tutelage, at eleven years old, the youth had blossomed into a force to be reckoned with.

"Some magic trinket. My father…" Blackheart's voice trailed off as memories of his father flooded his mind.

A towering figure, bathed in dancing shadow.

"Your father gave it to you?"

"No I want...I wanted to give it to him," Blackheart's faces radiated despondence which broke Dentarg's heart. He had grown fond of the kid.

He knew that it was the will of the council as well as the Inciter himself that Blackheart the Younger be brought up as an honorary warlock of their ranks, but the sad truth was that the splintering and division of the Horde, the clan leaders and the council itself on Draenor was too fargone. The stubborn and individualistic groups had gone their separate ways and none of the warlocks wanted to owe the council anything. When he had arrived, the child spent quite a few months at the citadel with the others learning demonology, council affairs, undergoing ritual induction ceremonies and being tattooed far more than any child should be; but when it came down to a long-term commitment to the youth's education, Dentarg the ogre mage was the only one willing to accept responsibility.

So it came to pass that the ogre youth travelled to Shadowmoon with Dentarg and Ner'zhul while his mother returned to the Auchindoun. The old shaman barely noticed the child, but then, he barely noticed Dentarg, having become accustomed to his faithful service. Dentarg on the other hand, couldn't get enough of the boy's inquisitive attitude and quickly began teaching him everything he knew. Over the course of two years, Shadowmoon Village became accustomed to the sight of the two sending bolts of energy into the sky.

"Really, what is it?"

"My mother calls it a toy but I'm not sure."

"Far be it from me to correct your mother, but I think what you hold is something special. Can I see it?"

Blackheart reluctantly handed the object to Dentarg, who squinted his eyes as he held it up by the light of the fire. He murmured this and that while he attempted to glean new information by turning it or tilting his head. Finally, he shrugged his shoulders and handed it back to the child.

"I'm not sure what it is, but I know it holds great power. This is no trinket which shines and moves for no purpose besides looking pretty. I can feel it."

"Really?"

"Really, really. Have you ever tried using magic on it?"

"This and that, but I can't seem to interact with it."

"Why don't you try channeling into it, the same way we did to levitate rocks early in your training?"

"I've tried that," Blackheart closed his eyes and lifted the object up above his palm, where it spun and continued its ceaseless and barely audible humming, "I've tried other spells. It can't be broken. It won't melt."

"Hmmm, an enigma."

"What?"

"Nevermind," Dentarg closed his eyes and contemplated, "I'm trying to think but that noise sure is distracting."

Dentarg had taught Blackheart many simple spells over the years, from levitation to shielding. Simple manipulation of sounds was among these low-level incantations. Eager to help his master, Blackheart quickly recited the ancient words to enclose the object in a silent bubble.

What happened next made the youth's jaws drop. His discovery had no only resisted the spell, it acted against it, amplifying the hum to a clear buzz.

"Look at that!" Dentarg feigned surprise, "You're unlocking its secrets already!"

"Wow!" The exhilaration in Blackheart's voice was tangible. A new approach had made all the difference, "How did you know?"

"I didn't!" Dentarg was a bad liar but he didn't need much skill around a child, "But let's see here, we know it makes noise. We know it reacts to manipulation of noise. I know you can feel some sort of energy radiating from this thing, now we have an idea of what it may be."

"How come nobody else can feel it? My father didn't notice, or the others in the castle."

"I don't like to toot my own horn, kid," Dentarg's skills in deception were getting worse by the second, "They're all warlocks. They have a, what do you call it...a narrow vision."

"What does that mean?"

Dentarg used a few mystic words and a huge book appeared in his hand. Blackheart had asked him about this particular spell before but apparently it was a very advanced technique. He flipped the book open to a random page and placed it on the ground before the youth. The page was covered with runes.

"Do you remember when I taught you how to read and write this? The world is governed by laws, fire is hot, rain falls to the earth, and so on. Arcane is the language in which these laws are written. Everything from the heat of fire to the speed at which rain falls to the earth can be reduced to this, follow?"

Bee nodded but he was confused. Dentarg was a great teacher of magic in practice, magic in theory was something both of them struggled with.

"That's why the warlocks don't see what we see. They studied the fire, but they didn't study the rain. They study darkness but they don't know what power may or may not exist in light."

"They summon demons," Bee thought of his father once again, "but they don't know much about them either."

"Exactly! Magic is infinite, it is endless. Over the years I've taught you divination, conjuration, illusion, enchantment and you have so much to learn yet. I hope you never reach a point where you think you know everything."

"I won't master."

"You are a better student than I was," Dentarg smiled, "those warlocks, their magic is limited to what they can use to inflict pain and destroy. They know little of what it takes to create, and everything in between. Look at the case of my master. He studied fire and rain and wind and rock. I'll bet he still couldn't figure this thing out. He can destroy and create, but he can't do what we can do. We can animate and teleport, we can create one thing, then turn it into something else. We can even manipulate time itself. There are no limits for us, because rather than bargain with spirits or demons to summon fire, we simply know what fire is."

Blackheart smiled and snatched his trinket from where it hung in the air. The buzzing had simmered down to the soft hum which he knew so well. Doubt overcame him as he stammered the next few words.

"Your master, why do you follow him?"

"You mean to ask how it was that fate brought us together? It is strange that master and pupil shouldn't follow the same approach to their art…"

"That's not it," Blackheart almost stuttered for fear of offending the one who had showed him so much kindness, "why do you follow him?"

"Ah, I understand" Dentarg was surprised it had taken the youth this long to ask. After all, there was no telling what the other members of the council may have filled his head with during his first few months in Hellfire Citadel. At least he didn't believe everything he heard, "My master is not the most well-liked among the council members. But would you believe that a great while ago, he was the leader of all orcs?"

Blackheart was shocked. Orcs were concerned with little besides prowess in battle, the old shaman was too frail, his cane was too embarrassing for him to be the ideal for orcs to follow. Besides, his crabby attitude couldn't possibly inspire a crowd.

"That's right, he was. My master may be hard, but it is only because he has been hardened by time. He used to rally great masses, all orcs heeded his call. He may no longer have this magnetic personality, but I know that he is good. I know that he cared about his people and his world. I would bet my life on it. He is one of the few left who is guided by morals and the greater good of all. I will never cease to follow him or his teachings."

The two sat in silence for a minute or two before Dentarg closed the book which still lay open in front of Blackheart.

"Now, I believe we have a few secrets to pry from your little treasure there. But first, another useful trick from among the limitless possibilities we are offered," with that, Dentarg's tome vanished from his hands with a flash of light, "I'll teach you how to keep it safe."

WWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

Blackheart awoke one morning to the sound of commotion in the middle of Shadowmoon Village.

"Ner'zhul!"

The voice was raspy and strange. As Blackheart peeked outside his tent, he saw two figures striding between the huts. They were too short and slender to be orcs, but Blackheart couldn't see any part of them that wasn't wrapped up in their robes. Strange magic emanated from them and Blackheart could tell from a distance that one of the strangers was terrifyingly powerful.

"Ner'zhul!" The figure called again with a cold and commanding voice. "I would speak with you!"

A few of the Shadowmoon orcs began reaching for weapons as one walked up behind the figures and began speaking to them. When the figures turned around to face the orc, Blackheart gasped. Two red eyes glowed under the dark hood of each but nothing else could be seen of their faces. When the orc's gesticulations hinted at the conversation heating up, similar hooded figures appeared from in between the tents in the village. They exchanged a few more words but without warning, the leader of the hooded figures extended one hand and cast something Blackheart recognized to be a curse of agonizing pain on the orc.

A warlock then.

"Dark magic!" A Shadowmoon orc threw an axe at the figure as he shouted to rally his comrades, his attack was deflected by shadowy barrier, "Kill the warlocks before they can afflict any more of us!"

The leader of the strangers turned on his heels toward the Shadowmoon warriors who immediately began to converge on him. His voice was still raspy but anger forced it up by an octave.

"If you all die so be it; I will speak with Ner'zhul!" With both hands extended, he summoned a wave of darkness which knocked several orcs backwards while inflicting what must have been agonizing pain.

"Stop!" Ner'zhul's voice was commanding and even had the hooded strangers standing up straighter, "There has been enough killing already!"

The chieftain emerged from his tent and was approached by one of the strangers. The old shaman and the leader of the newcomers exchanged a few more words and seemed to be familiar with one another. Blackheart was so amazed by the dark energies swirling around the leader of the figures that he forgot to attempt scrying to listen in on the conversation. When he did attempt it, he could immediately sense Dentarg's presence as the older mage sent him a message telepathically.

Don't try it.

So Blackheart spent a few hours wondering just what might be happening inside the chieftain's tent with the unusual visitors until his master finally approached him in person.

"My master and I must return to the citadel," Anticipating Blackhearts protests, Dentarg cast a spell of silence on both of the young ogre's heads. The two of them had learned much from their combined efforts at unlocking the secrets of the youth's treasure.

"Don't worry," he continued, "I'll allow you to accompany me but only on one condition. It is a condition you absolutely must keep in mind."

With that, he lifted the spell and leaned in close. The eyes in his single head taking time to look both of Blackheart's in theirs.

"You must do as I say, when I say it."

"That doesn't sound too…"

"You don't quite understand just what we are going to the citadel for. It may be dangerous and when I say the word, we will leave."

Blackheart nodded.

"I will have duties to perform when we arrive. While your training has been progressing swimmingly, you may soon have a new teacher..."

"What do you mean?"

"It's hard to say, things are changing," Blackheart would have questioned him more but his master's voice was uncertain and troubled. It made him nervous, "And that is not all. These hooded strangers, they are not the only strange, new things you may see. I need you to curb your curiosity. People like them, they'll kill you for so much as an inquisitive look."

Blackheart nodded but he didn't understand why Dentarg was being so dramatic.

"Now, seeing as your training has progressed far enough, I'd like to give you a couple of gifts."

Blackheart's eyes lit up.

"What is it?"

His master reached just outside of the tent and presented Blackheart with the vestments he wore to battle. This included a hide kilt and belt to which several pouches and loops were attached to allow the wearer to carry reagents and various items around his side. But the most meaningful part was a huge plate of metal, leather and wood on the front which would cover a fully grown ogre's midsection, crotch and thighs. The giant disc's adamant rim curved in at the top and formed the emblem of the Shadow Council on the front, flanked by other runes.

"Master I…"

"You needn't say anything, wear it with pride when you grow into it, now regard the second piece," Dentarg now handed Bee a Shadowmoon banner which attached to the backside of the belt.

"You won't grow into this for a while, but I trust you'll wear it with pride."

"I don't know what to say," Bee's voice was cracking, "I thank you, master."

"Don't thank me, just keep them safe and honor the clan."