Light of Lights is not Very Bright

For the first time in his life, Prestor met Queen Azshara face to face. He recalled his thoughts when he first arrived in this time. This would give him the change to stop her from becoming the Naga Queen. But, she was already heading down that road. He glanced into the two orbs of her eyes, glowing like twin candles. Her silvery hair fell down her back, her blue skin was radiant. She wore a rather sensual looking dress silver with a split going up her right leg. All around her Highborne, elves who were the ancestors of the High Elves and later the Blood Elves. Still, they looked like Night Elves with varying purple shades of skin and green to blue to black hair. The Highborne were nothing more than the social elites, the ruling class in the hierarchy of the Night Elves. All other Night Elves were just the lowly peasants. These elites ruled by the arcane, and their classes dictated by just how close they were to the Well of Eternity. And at the heart was Zin-Azshari.

Prestor lumbered into a vast, royal chamber where Queen Azshara stood with her handmaidens. This chamber was close to the portal. Prestor could sense the darkness coming from the portal even from this room. Mannoroth rumbled, watching the two night elves ushering in the black dragon. Azshara sniffed and she and her train shuffled themselves over to the trio. Prestor shifted his eyes from the hulking centaur, reptilian pit lord and the lovely Highborne queen.

"What is this...animal you bring me, Varo'then?" she asked, looking with disgust at Prestor. "A pet?"

Prestor growled and clicked his talons on her smooth floor. She looked him over, her eyes rising and lowering upon his great form.

"He smells," she scoffed.

"This, Light of Lights, is a dragon," said Varo'then. "Not only a dragon, but the dragon who created the magnificent device that will aid in bringing our Lord Sargeras to this world."

Prestor shifted from one foot to another and shook his neck scales. The elementium plates clanked upon his back and his braids flipped about his chest. Azshara walked over to him, tilting her head to the right in scrutiny. She sniffed again.

"He's dirty," she said.

"Well," Prestor huffed, puffing his massive chest out. "I'm sorry I haven't bathed in a fucking week and a half! If the Light of Lights would be so kind as to point me to the nearest bathhouse, I'll be happy to scrub away the grime."

"He insults me, Varo'then," said Azshara. "Rip his tongue out!"

Varo'then turned to the Great Black. His heart quivered, hearing a low, fuming growl coming from the dragon and memories from when he felt his own organs crushing under unseen weight came back. Prestor's eyes flashed like fire and Varo'then gulped, his face twisting in fear.

"I...rather not," he said.

"You defy my orders?" asked Azshara.

"Well," began Illidan. "Oh Light of Lights, our dragon needs his tongue to command the disk. You want our lord to come, correct?"

"Yes!" she said. Azshara held her breath, her eyes lighting up in excitement. "I can't wait! Soon, my consort will come and remake this world." She exhaled. "A paradise he will create for me!"

Mannoroth chuckled sinisterly. Then, his chuckle faded when he heard a laugh coming from Prestor. The dragon lifted his head, opening his mouth with a loud cackle. In response to his laugh, the room began to tremble violently. A vase slid from the table and fell with a loud shatter. Prestor shook his head and wiped a tear free from his eye.

"He mocks me again!" Azshara gasped.

"Only your stupidity!" Prestor said, laughing again. "You–you honestly believe the being that will step through into our world will want to marry you?" He laughed even louder. A pillar cracked under the stress of the quake his mirth caused. Mannoroth looked up to the ceiling as dust fell to the floor, and then back to the black dragon. The Great Black shook his head. "Oh, do go on! You are a means to an end. Nothing more, elf. And Sargeras is a locust. He moves from planet to planet, taking the resources and when he is done, he leaves...of to another planet." Prestor's eyes turned to Mannoroth. "But tell me, Pit Lord, when your great Lord Sargeras is done destroying worlds, absorbing life, taking as he pleases, what then? What will he do when there is nothing left? Sargeras has no purpose other than this and when there is nothing left of the universe, there will be nothing left of him!" Prestor chuckled, clacking his fangs. "I do not envy his life nor ask for it."

"You will do well to watch your tongue, worm," said Mannoroth in a deep growl. "Your purpose here is to use your disk. Afterwards, will have no more need of you."

"And I suppose I will be the first to be fed to Lord Sargeras," said Prestor. "It's a step up from the oblivion your precious lord will suffer. Will you spend it with him, Mannoroth? I certainly hope so. I'm sure he will be lonely in his nothingness and would need some company to keep him from going insane out of boredom."

The demon stomped towards the dragon, his scales rattling anger. Prestor smelled the rotten stench fuming from the pit lord and he retched back. Mannoroth snatched the dragon by his thick neck and pulled him up, squeezing his trachea.

"You will be silent!" Mannoroth growled.

"You...do not scare me," said Prestor. His claws wiggled towards the direction of Varo'then's pouch. The Demon Soul began to glow, reacting to Prestor's call. Then, he lifted a claw and seized the demon's body. Mannoroth felt fingers diving in, controlling every vein and every muscle inside his body. Prestor grinned, sensing two pulses inside. "You have two hearts."

Mannoroth felt his hearts clinched tight and he dropped the dragon. Prestor lifted from the floor and reared to his hind legs and held to the demon's body. The demon grunted, twisting and writhing. Mannoroth was fighting against the will of his own body and he was loosing. Prestor moved his claws in a fluid motion and the demon reacted, walking across the decorative floor. With a quick motion, the dragon slammed the demon down upon his own face. Azshara looked on, almost mesmerized by the control the dragon wielded upon the pit lord. Then, Prestor released his control over him. Mannoroth gasped, clutching his chest. The dragon shrugged, his tail swaying. The pit lord looked up, seeing the glow of the Great Black's eyes keeping some residual hold upon him.

"Since I am about to be served up as an entrée," Prestor began. "I can speak my mind all I want. Because I am dead anyway. There is no point in threatening me any further. I am going to die no matter what I do."

The demon rose to his feet, grumbling. He scratched his head and fanned his bat-like wings.

"You've never dealt with one who has accepted his fate, have you?" asked Prestor.

Mannoroth growled again, his lips curling.

"We're a lot more annoying than those who fight against their fate," Prestor continued.

"Bring him," the demon huffed.

Illidan continued to eye the dragon intently, a smirk appearing on his face. This will be amusing...

They brought Prestor to the black portal only a few chambers down. The portal pulsated with hideous energy and green fire. Prestor grimaced, sensing the disgusting fumes coming from the portal. On the other side was the Twisting Nether, the vast void that Sargeras lived. The Earth-Warder took in a deep breath as the portal pulsed again, revealing two fiery eyes. His emerald eyes narrowed at them.

Sargeras...

"I sense the stench of a Titan here..."

"There are no filthy Titans here, my lord," said Mannoroth.

Prestor shifted his eyes around.

"Speak to our lord, sorcerer," said the pit lord, turning to Illidan. "He awaits your news."

"I have brought the disk," said Illidan. Varo'then took the disk out and showed it to the portal.

"Well done."

Varo'then and Illidan bowed reverently and Prestor rolled his eyes again. Illidan motioned for the dragon to step forward. Prestor lumbered closely, but still wanting to keep his distance.

"We have also captured the dragon who created the tool which will bring you to us," said Illidan.

"I wish for him to step closer..."

Illidan looked back to Prestor and once more motioned him to come closer. As Prestor did, he could feel the dripping horrid presence of Sargeras latch out to him. Tendrils of green flowed out to him to touch his scales. Then, the green shot into his own heart. For a moment, Prestor felt his breath stolen.

"Khaz'Goroth..."

"I am not surprised you know that name, Betrayer..." said Prestor.

"So, you are the experiment he spoke of..."

Prestor felt his own heart clinch tightly just when he heard the word 'experiment' mentioned. A pair of claws tore into his chest scales, opening them up to reveal his molten, glowing core, pulsating with his heartbeat. Prestor gasped seeing a bit of his lava blood drip hissing and burning upon the floor.

"You will make an excellent meal..."

Prestor held his chest closed with a claw.

"I'd tell you to bite me, but you seem to want to do that anyway," he said.

"He even has Khaz'Goroth's snark...one of the things I hated about him. Which will make the feast even more fulfilling."

"My lord," said Illidan. "We have devised the plan of having him empower the disk and seal it to the portal..."

The portal pulsed again and Prestor heard the grating voice of Sargeras echoed again.

"The portal is of no concern anymore."

Prestor felt himself pulled closer to the portal.

"The disk shall open the way, as planned. You will use the power of the Well itself..."

§§§

Prestor passed down to the lower chambers and deep into the cells where they were holding Tyrande Whisperwind. He was allowed this one audience with her, being escorted by Dath'Remar Sunstrider. Already the Highborne Night Elf was starting to look more and more like a Blood Elf, his ears perked up much higher than regular Night Elves, his build a bit shorter. He sensed that Dath'Remar was opening up to Tyrande, and Prestor had to approach him about it.

"They will not hear us..." Prestor whispered. "You have been seeing the priestess captured here?"

"Yes," said Dath'Remar.

"I can sense you question your position and your queen's as well," said Prestor as they moved aside to a corner. Dath'Remar looked around, hesitantly around for anyone who could hear. Prestor rumbled deeply. "Sargeras means all of us ill, Sunstrider."

"I...I know," he said.

"Where is Tyrande?"

"In the cells under the palace," said Dath'Remar. His glowing eyes narrowed at the dragon. "The queen is...mad..."

"I know," said Prestor. "You will need to help her escape."

Dath'Remar nodded.

"Are there others like you?" asked Prestor.

"Yes...um...my lord..."

"I am no lord," said Prestor. "But if you are so keen on titles, 'sir' will do."

"Yes, sir," said Dath'Remar.

"Gather all who are loyal," said Prestor. He glanced around again and then back to the Highborne elf. "And go to the resistance."

"But what if they...attack us?"

"Rescuing Tyrande Whisperwind might help making them more favorable to you," said Prestor.

"What if we are caught?"

"You won't be," said Prestor. "I'm taking most of Mannoroth's sorcerers with me when I go to help open the portal. They'll be too occupied with it to even notice you. But if you plan to do something, it's now! You won't get a chance later..." He glanced over his shoulder. "You have to save her now..."

"You won't honestly help them bring Sargeras here, will you?" asked Dath'Remar.

"No," said Prestor. "I'm here to make sure their plan fails. I am a member of the Dragonflights, my duty is to protect this world from creatures like him. I won't go back on that charge."

The elf nodded.

"I want you to take me to Tyrande and then when I leave, you make your escape."

And so, Dath'Remar Sunstrider, the one Prestor knew who will be king of the High Elves thousands of years later, lead him down to where they kept Tyrande. The door opened and Tyrande glanced up to see him standing there. She looked almost half dead, starved, thin, and dirty. Her eyes lit up with recognition.

"N...Neltharion?" she asked, rising weakly up.

"Shhh...priestess..." Prestor hissed. "Prestor, remember?"

"Prestor..." she nodded and swallowed dryly. The Black Dragon lowered down to her.

"I am here to stop their plans," he said. "Or at least buy some time for the others to get here."

"How did you fool them into thinking you would help them?"

"With my charms," Prestor said with a smile. "Apparently I haven't lost them. Or...maybe it's because these guys are as stupid as the Dragonflights were. Either way, I'm taking advantage of them. They think I am helping them because I have given up. I am about to throw a large monkey wrench in their plans."

"What's a monkey wrench?" asked Tyrande.

"Never mind, priestess," he said with a low chuckle. "Don't give up hope. And I brought someone who might be able to help you get back to your Malfurion..."

Dath'Remar knelt to Tyrande.

"Holy priestess," he said.

"Thank you," she said. "But he..."

"I am on your side, Tyrande," said Dath'Remar. "This world the demons plan for us...only death do I see in their path. What world would any of us want to live if death is all we see?"

Tyrande rose up and Dath'Remar banished the shield that bound her. He helped her up and Prestor backed away just as they exited the cell.

"Take all you trust, Sunstrider," said Prestor. "And her as well. Get away from the Well as fast as you can!"

"Get away from the Well..." Tyrande repeated. "Aside from the demons, why else would we?"

"Malfurion wants to destroy it," said Prestor. "And I am going to help him."

"Destroy the Well of Eternity...how?" asked Dath'Remar. "Why?"

"Why...because it's what's calling the demons here," said Prestor. "So long as it exists, you'll have problems with demons. And their lord. How...you will know soon enough."

"But we need the Well's energies..."

"You can survive without it," said Prestor. "And you will find other means to sate your addiction to the arcane. There are leylines of arcane magic all around...Kalimdor, formed by my brother Malygos the Spell-Weaver. One day, you will meet a race of people who will help you tap into those leylines. But the Well has to be destroyed. There are no other options. The destruction will be so great, it will blast this entire area. So, you must leave and take all you can! Save all you can."

"Thank you...Earth-Warder," said Tyrande, placing her hand upon his scaly shoulder. "Elune will guide you and protect you."

"I will need all the help I can get," said Prestor. "I'm about to stare down the throat of a very pissed off, dark Titan. He won't like what's about to happen."

With that, he watched them flee. Prestor turned back and headed for the Well.