Disclaimer: I struggled long and hard (about 4.3 seconds) to come up with this disclaimer, which evolved from containing the words "gasp" and "My god" and something involving me writing it at the end of the story, for a twist, but deciding on narrating what actually happened, and then falling into a never-ending loop wherein In restate the same things over…and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and…I don't own Naruto or World of Warcraft, though all of the characters not under copyright are mine and mine alone.

Here's the next installment of The Legend of Uzumaki Naruto!

Magni laid his head against the wall of the empty tram and stared at the blurred stream of light on the cave wall from the torches that lit the tracks. He let out a mournful sigh, and tried to think of anything other than what he felt.

Old.

His body felt old; it sagged like a sack of rocks, bulging in all the wrong places—too much around his middle, not enough around his arms, and hardly at all around his manhood, (which these days he didn't think of much, as it was little use to him anyways). But his joints were stiff and his skin wrinkled and soft, and his muscles had deflated and his bones were brittle and ached all the time and he found it hard to stand and walk. He hated listening to the creaks and groans his body made when he so much as moved a leg to walk, or stand up from a chair. He hated the way his vision blurred and he became slightly out of breath when he worked too much at the forges or simply walked too much too quickly. He hated also the way his body seemed to ignore his very commands; it wanted to go to the bathroom constantly and he could never hold it as long as he would have liked, and it moved slower and sometimes hardly at all.

His mind felt old, too; he found himself forgetting; sometimes minor things, such as what he had done or what he intended to do that day. Sometimes this occurred hours apart, but sometimes it was only minutes. But sometimes he forgot larger things as well; the names of his advisors, where he had been staying in the Dwarven Quarter in his visit to Stormwind, and sometimes the name of his dead son. He found it hard to think, as if his mind were full of fog, and he grew restless and enclosed in places before he had found lovely and peaceful. His temper had changed, too. It was not like it had used to be, and he missed the fury he could generate in his youth from something as simple as stubbing his toe; now, he felt tired, defeated and his anger only flared when stoked by something very flammable—such as the face of his former enemies, the ones who had killed countless numbers of his people in the past.

His soul was tired most of all.

It disgusted him in some ways, but he couldn't help it. He had told that boy, almost the day he had arrived at Ironforge just over a year and a half ago—a single boy who had just completed an impossible feat of destroying one of the strongest monsters to have made its home in his kingdom; a boy with an eager, hopeful face that had warmed his heart and made him hope for the future. Just looking into that boy's eyes had made him hope that perhaps what he had come to propose was possible.

The world could be united, and the races could be at peace.

He had latched onto that hope, because in his youth it had been a hope of his as well. Before everything had happened—before the Fourth War against the Horde, before the Third War against the Scourge and the Legion—before he had watched so many of his people die, and before he had lost his brothers and his daughter—one to death, one to the unknown, and the last to love. Before all that remained of them were memories and the rings in his beard that had belonged to his daughter. Before he had been chipped away until there was so little left, had become so worn by time and grief that his very bladder controlled his entire view on the world!

That hope had held, however; he had listened to tales of the boy's success, and his own hope had continued to grow and flourish until he was sure it would work, he was sure that the world could become allied to a single cause, and could live in peace for a time.

But then, at that pinnacle of his hope, he had met them—he had met the ones behind the atrocities committed against his people, the ones who had orchestrated a thousand slaughters of his dwarves and their allies—had shook their hands, and had even laughed with them! It sickened him, and every time he saw their faces he wanted to be their enemy again because it was so much fucking easier than sitting there and listening to them speak and treating them as his equal!

But he hated that line of thinking. His disgust disgusted him. He hated the fact that it aroused his anger to be in the same room as them! He wanted to forget the past, he wanted to forget that they had been his enemies and wanted to believe that their peoples had suffered just as much as his. But he couldn't, he couldn't forget that. If he did, he felt that he would forget his people, too. He would forget that they died to protect their families and their lifestyle, and if he forgot that then their deaths would be meaningless!

He could not let go of that past.

So how did he continue into the future?

He was too old.

He did not believe he could do it. He was not needed, not anymore. As a king, he was now only a hindrance; if he could not accept this new future, then he did not deserve to live.

But, Benedictus' words still resounded—'Remind yourself of why you can and you will do this.' He knew what the man spoke of. He had been king of the reason for half a century, and it was the very reason he could not forget the past.

His people.

They were no longer the old ones—they were a new generation, one that would soon forget the evils of the past, where orcs and trolls were devils with which to frighten children, and would soon learn what he could not—acceptance. He could not let his prejudices sink into the new generation, because they had gone on far enough.

But it was so hard that for the first time in his life, he was accepting the possibility of failure.

His hands shook a little when he thought of that and he sat up, shaking himself awake. Could he fail his people? By not accepting the present and the desire to work alongside his enemies, would he fail them? He wanted to think so, but the past continued to creep back, hissing at him in all the voices of his people and his brothers that he wouldn't fail, and that he would honor them if he destroyed his former enemies.

He couldn't fail.

He envied the young. Especially Kira and Naruto, the ones who had created the alliance in the first place; he envied their purity—only those completely untouched by such racism could have conceived of a foolish plan like that. But Tyrande had been utterly correct in saying that they were its only hope.

Experience and wisdom could come later, as now only that earnest ambition to succeed was needed. Only those who truly wanted the world to become one and and had suffered nothing of the horrors of the past could achieve such a thing. There could be no half-heartedness, there could only be true acceptance. Acceptance was not something people like Magni could learn. It was something for the new generation to learn, and to continue until that old hatred was forgotten.

He would continue. Though he would hate his enemies every time he heard them speak, every time he looked into their eyes, he would restrain himself because that's all he could do.

Because he was far too old.

The tram began to slow, and he stood up prematurely for his departure. The station of Ironforge came into view a moment later, a large platform made of solid, black stone polished perfectly smooth. His grandfather and father stood guard near the entrance, armed with their monolithic hammers as if to scare off those who might bring harm to the occupants of the City Under the Mountain, when in reality they were merely lifeless stone.

He wondered if he would stand guard there someday, too.

If he did, he hoped they would make him younger.

He crossed the room towards the door, and noticed how silent it was. Normally there would be guards there to greet him, or one of his advisors—he was sure he had sent a carrier pigeon explaining his return. But there was nobody. Had he forgotten again?

He cursed himself until he reached the stairwell and found out that he had indeed sent a pigeon.

He was allowed one moment of pure astonishment, which was given no time to become disgust, despair and anger. The attack came suddenly from behind and he was forced to leap out of the way and deflect the blades of a flying weapon—a scythe with blades black like coal—with his gauntlet. It didn't pierce the Dwarven steel, and crashed into the wall beside his father's statue, shattering the stone easily.

"Fuckin' hell," a voice snapped from behind him. Magni turned and saw a man walking towards him. The man was very strange looking—he had silver hair slicked back and wore a black cloak, embroidered in crimson clouds.

"Shit, my attacks are always so goddamn slow," the man said, pulling the black cord attached to the scythe, returning it to his hand. "Even a fuckin' dwarf as old as this guy could block it." The man didn't seem to be speaking to himself, because it was loud enough to echo throughout the room.

"Who are you?" Magni rumbled. He drew his twin hammers, fury descending like a cloak about his shaking shoulders. "And why…have you done that to my people?"

The man smirked at him, shouldering the scythe. "I didn't do that. I don't crush things—you'll have to ask my friend."

Magni turned. From the pile of bodies—all with crushed skulls and broken limbs—a monstrous figure emerged, leaping down the steps and landing in front of Magni. His attacker didn't speak or even stop—he drove a foot into Magni's stomach, flattening the heavy plate-mail against his chest and throwing him backwards. Magni landed near the edge of the tram tracks, gasping and hardly able to move.

"Don't," the giant said, covered in dwarven blood, "call me a friend, Hidan. I'm not friends with a kid like you." Magni couldn't see much of his face—it was covered by a black mask and hood that showed only his eyes—solid black with pearly white pupils. His voice was bottomless and cold, and sent shivers down Magni's aching spine.

Magni managed to stand, but his legs shook from the painful blow, and he found it hard to breath. He looked at his attackers, who were slowly advancing.

"Whatever," the other man said. "How long do you think it'll take us to kill this guy?"

"I'll bet you one thousand it'll take more than ten minutes."

"Ten minutes? Shit, you got yourself a deal!" The man lifted a black trinket that hung around his neck and kissed it. "I'll make sure this infidel—this Holy Light worshipping hypocrite—dies within five."

The other man nodded. "Fine." He sounded pleased.

They attacked.

Magni watched his death come greet him, though he felt detached—almost uncaring. There was no fear, or anger; just an empty sorrow that made him smile and his eyes well with tears. He'd see his brother again, and his wife, too. But he'd never get to see his daughter again….

…Or even meet the little grandchild.

It might be for the best, he thought. Yes. Perhaps it was his fate—the world had no use for the old any more, anyways.

So he grinned as he went, and made sure that it took three times as long as the foul-mouthed assassin had said it would.

Two days had passed since they had come to Silvermoon, and it had passed restfully, at least in a manner of speaking. On the third day, Sakura came to Naruto's room in the early morning before anyone was up, and proposed that they go out on a date.

"Huh?"

"Go out on a date with me," said Sakura, swinging her legs idly from Naruto's bed. She smiled coyly at him, and tilted her head to the side. "Today."

"D-d-d-date?" Naruto spoke so softly he might as well have mouthed the words, but she got what he was saying anyways. She nodded at him, and stood up.

"Yep, a date. It's the last day we're here, and the last two days I've been with Kira and Kylia, so I haven't had much of a chance to talk to you or spend much time with you, except for that one time that we met you and Sai when you were giving him those 'social lessons'." She grinned a little wider at that, and tried to suppress a snort of laughter that didn't work very well.

He'd been very secretive about those lessons, even among the blood elves.

"…You won't mention that to anybody, will you?"

"Not if you go on a date with me," she said.

Naruto relaxed. "You'll really go out on a date?" he asked. "A real one, or the fake ones like we used to do?" He referred to the four or five "dates" Sakura had let him go on with her the weeks before he'd left with Jiraiya. He still wasn't totally convinced they'd been fake, but he wasn't going to question her.

"It's more real," she said. "It isn't fake, but it isn't a 'lovey-dovey' date. It's one as friends, you know?"

He didn't really, but he nodded anyways and grinned. "Okay!" He looked at Tsuwabuki, who lay on the floor by his bed. "You wanna come?"

'I don't want to spoil it for you,' she said. 'I'll tell you when we need to go. Don't get too busy.'

Naruto knitted his brows, noticing her emphasis on "too". "Whaddya mean?"

'I hadn't realized that you were that naïve. I'm far younger than you and I know about that—I knew about it when I was barely two years old.'

"What are you talking about?" Naruto snapped. Sakura raised a puzzled brow at the forthcoming argument, and decided to prevent it by dragging him out, leaving Tsuwabuki to call after in a way that only Naruto could hear:

'I'll tell you about it when you get back. It involves birds and bees.'

It was, as always, an amazingly sunny day. Sakura wondered aloud, as she often had during their stay, whether it was just the climate or they had done something with chakra, as they had done to just about everything here, to keep the sun out. She marveled at how they could grow crops if it didn't rain, or even seem to have clouds (she hadn't spotted one since they had arrived). During the past few days, she had gotten no answer to that particular question, even with Kira being as curious as she. It wasn't that they didn't know—most simply didn't deign to answer, and some she didn't even get a chance to ask. Such as Lor'themar Theron, the Lord Regent, when he'd met them on the second day outside the Grand Palace—a monstrous, spherical building that hovered in mid-air above an immense pit whose bottom couldn't be seen. The elf had barely stayed long enough to consider it a meeting. Kira gave him a brief recounting of what had happened, during which he hadn't spoken a word or even so much as twitched an eyebrow. After he merely nodded, and then bid them good day and a restful stay, before leaving in exactly the same manner as he had arrived: similar to a soft breeze, disturbing very little and making no lasting impression. Yamato found that he liked the elf slightly more than the others because he didn't seem to flaunt the power he obviously had. But Naruto and Sakura didn't like him that much, though they had to admit that someone with that amount of control deserved to be leader of a people who suffered from a lack of it. In the end, Sakura's question had remained unanswered, though she hoped to have an answer by the end of their stay.

Though Naruto didn't particularly care about this, he nodded as they walked through the beautiful streets, gazing at the amazing sights.

Silvermoon City was not the biggest city Naruto had ever been in; it still paled in comparison to Orgrimmar and Stormwind, but it more than made up for the countless number of oddities it contained. They did not go a few steps without seeing something so new and bizarre that they had to stop walking to see it play out. One time, for example, they found themselves watching a pair of children play a board game that looked a little like shogi, but the pieces moved and battled, and whoever initiated the battle did not always necessarily come out on top. Twice they met people who seemed to be doing nothing but using jutsu to outdo one-another; they would paint seals on things and make them move and frolic about, or would spit and make the spit become a small glass figurine. Nobody but Naruto or Sakura seemed to be impressed by this, however—most of the other elves just continued walking, though some stopped to give them condescending looks.

"It's so strange," Sakura said. "To see people using jutsu everywhere."

"They don't even do it for real things," Naruto said aloud. "It's kind of annoying, now that I think about it."

Sakura nodded her agreement, but that didn't stop her from dragging Naruto to look at the many odd shops, such as one containing a large number of boxes that sang different songs when you opened them, in the most beautiful language either of them had ever heard. Sakura thought about buying one, but realized that she didn't have any money of her own. So they left to sample some of the other shops which included, but were not limited to, one that sold bottled smoke of different colors, one that sold self-writing books (for a quick fortune, in any language, the shopkeeper had claimed), and one that sold the most beautiful—and strange—birds Naruto had ever seen. They were brightly colored in orange, yellow, gold and purple, and when Sakura mentioned it, reminded Naruto of pictures of phoenixes that frequented the shops in Konoha.

On numerous occasions they passed the giant, glowing golems that they had first seen at the gates to the city; they lumbered along, repeating in the grating mechanical voice a few words that neither of them could understand. However, once when they passed one, it turned and rumbled in a thickly accented voice, "PREPARE TO BE…TERMINATED." Naruto thought it was serious and nearly attacked it, but when the creature just kept right on moving, he stopped and stared at it, wondering if it had made a joke.

"They didn't do that the last two days," Naruto said, as they passed a fountain where the statues moved and bowed to the onlookers, even as they spat water from their mouths.

"The voice sounded familiar," said Sakura, frowning.

"Yeah…maybe Fen's bored," said Naruto.

They hadn't seen either of the Forsaken during the past two days. It wasn't surprising, however—Naruto had been with Sai both days, trying to deal with the boy's sudden desire to become social, which hadn't turned out very well and had succeeded in giving Naruto a minor name for himself in the gossip of the city as being the boy who kept shouting inappropriate things at the bathhouse.

They sat down at a small restaurant, where the elves around them smoked large hookahs and conversed in their singing language—it was almost like being surrounded by music. They ordered, and as soon as they did, neither could decide what to say.

Naruto said it first.

"Why'd you want to come out on a date with me?" he asked.

She didn't answer for a second, although her face turned slightly pink. "Am I not allowed to?"

"No," Naruto said, blushing. "It's not that, it's just that…I thought you were…" He fidgeted. He didn't want to say the last part, and though she understood him, she waited for him to continue speaking.

"You know…" he said, waving his hands about, struggling for words. "Sasuke…"

She blinked. "Oh…that's what you were thinking of?"

"I'm wrong?" Naruto asked.

She didn't answer, and looked away for a while, towards a table where the chairs were walking on four legs, their occupants becoming increasingly frustrated as one of them kept trying to escape and making the blood elf on top fall into his plate of food.

"I'm trying not to think about it," she said, finally. "And when I do, I'm trying not to kid myself."

"Whaddya mean?"

"Nothing," she said.

Naruto frowned at her. "What do you mean you're not kidding yourself?" He leaned forwards. "What are you talking about?"

"Look," she finally said, a little hotly. "Sasuke is important to me, and he always will be. But it's no good thinking about it all the time, because that just makes me feel…I don't know…depressed. I learned that while you were gone—it's pointless pouting over it, so I just have to suck it up and try to enjoy my life." She sighed. "I've been trying to stay positive, like you always are—and I'm best at that when you're around, I guess."

Naruto turned a little red, and looked away. Him? The guy she'd beaten and yelled at? "W-with me?"

"Yeah," she said. She was investigating the chair incident more thoroughly now, as the chair had managed to gain its freedom and had taken off into the streets with its owner rushing after it, roaring in Thalassian. She hoped she would pass off the blush as simply glare from the sun. She didn't want to say what she really felt, of course.

"Oh," he mumbled, feeling slightly ashamed of himself. They didn't speak for a while more, but he blurted out, "Thank you."

"For what?"

He shrugged. "Dunno. Just saying that, I suppose. I guess I'm just surprised, that's all."

"That you're important to me?" she asked, raising and eyebrow.

He flushed. "Yeah."

"We're teammates, Naruto," she said. "The past is the past, and I may have thought you were annoying then, but I didn't hate you, you know. I never hated you—that's kind of hard, you know? You're not someone you can easily hate—you're the type that can make friends with just about everyone. Worked with me, didn't it?" She smiled.

"Yeah," he said, grinning back. "Guess so."

"Now I've got a question for you."

"What?"

"Do you like Kira?"

Naruto flushed a deep red, and stuttered, "E-excuse me?"

"Do you like Kira?" she asked again, emphasizing the "like" again. She was still smiling, but it now looked forced and he knew he had to play his cards right, or he'd get hit or yelled at again.

"Er…I mean…um…" He quickly became enraptured by the chair incident as well, which was now taking place to his right, in the middle of the street. The chair appeared to be dueling with the blood elf that had created it, and strangely, appeared to be winning.

"Honestly," she said. "I don't care if you do."

"W-why do you want to know, then?"

She shrugged, and looked away. "Just curious. You seem like you fit well together."

"Really?" She noted the absence of hope in his voice—it was merely shock, and for some reason that made her feel better.

"Yeah," she said. "And she seems to like you as well."

"W-what?"

"You haven't noticed?" She said, raising her eyebrows. "That was probably the reason we got off on the wrong foot—I think she was jealous of me and you."

"Why would she be jealous of us…?"

"Because she probably thinks I know you better," Sakura said, shrugging. "Or that you still had a crush on me, or something."

Naruto turned crimson. "She likes me?"

"I think so," Sakura said. "I talked to her about it a bit when I was with her—she wasn't very forthcoming, but I think she does. She certainly trusts you a lot more than most people, and she puts almost all of her faith in you." Sakura looked away again. "I got angry at her for that, actually. I didn't think she should be putting so much strain on you. She's gotten better, though—especially with what's happened recently."

"Yeah," Naruto said. "It was kind of nice, though."

Sakura blinked at him. "What?"

"Being so depended on," he said, shrugging a little. "It was nice, having all that attention, I guess. But I'm also glad that Kira-chan is getting to be herself more," he added quickly, and grinned. "She's going to need it to become queen." She noted the pride in his voice, as if he would play some part in it—though in all likelihood, he already had.

"You'll need the practice too," Sakura said. "For becoming Hokage."

"Yeah…" Naruto said, nodding a bit distractedly. She frowned at his reaction.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Naruto said, grinning at her.

They fell into silence for a moment, and both watched the climax of the chair fight, with ended with the chair victorious by striking the blood elf in the shin and then skittering away into a drain near the sidewalk and vanishing. The blood elf shouted beautiful obscenities at the drain as he hobbled back to his table, looking furious.

Then, Naruto said, "Where the hell's our food?"

The rest of their date progressed smoothly; neither spoke of Sasuke again, and soon it seemed to have never happened. It proceeded without incident (figuratively speaking, of course—they did not cross a street without an incident occurring. Similarly, Sakura was able to find out the answer to her nagging question about the weather, and was disappointed to find that it was just the climate) until they came to a small section of the city that neither had investigated during their stay—one that smelt strongly of iron and something else. It tingled the nose and clouded the sixth sense so completely that Sakura felt as if she had been locked in a genjutsu. She continually glanced at Naruto—who didn't seem to have a problem with it—as if to check if he was actually there. It grew heaviest near the bottom, where a small, almost unassuming looking, far shabbier than any they had seen yet, across from a few blacksmithing stalls. Its entrance was cloaked in red drapes and it looked almost sinister.

"What is that?" Sakura said aloud. Naruto stared at it too, sniffing a few times.

"Smell's weird," he said. He leaned closer. "Think it's some sort of brothel?"

"I dunno," she said. "But I don't think I want to find out, now that you mention it. It must be right next to a blacksmith's for some reason, and Tsunade-sama always did say that blacksmiths were rather…um…uncouth."

"That's probably cause they caught her trying to stiff them once," Naruto said.

"True enough."

Naruto then spotted somebody emerge from the small building, and hurry towards them—and halfway there, she stopped and Naruto recognized her.

"Hisari!" he called.

She walked over, nodding once to Sakura as she did. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking around," Naruto said. "What's that building you just came from?"

She brushed some hair from her eyes and then turned back to gaze at the building. She didn't respond right away, and seemed to carefully consider what she would say. "My headquarters. That is the Blood Knight Citadel."

"Citadel?" Naruto asked. "Doesn't look like one."

"You have not been inside it," she said. "Nor will you likely ever be. Only blood elves can enter, and they cannot bring visitors. Forgive me."

"No problem," said Naruto. "We were just wondering. Why's it look so…?" He didn't have the heart to finish.

"We have more important things to do than make a building look pretty. It does not matter to us," she said, sounding more like she was making an excuse, with her nose upturned and a slight haughtiness returning to her demeanor. Naruto knitted his brows.

"So you just don't care?" he asked. "I don't think I believe you."

"Why?"

"All of you guys are about appearance," he said. "I don't think you guys would keep it like that if you could help it."

"Yeah," said Sakura. "Beauty seems to be ingrained into your culture as much as chakra. There must be some reason why that building is kept like that."

"And," said Naruto, "I'm not gonna stop bothering you until you tell us."

Hisari glanced back at the shabby building, and then said, after a lingering silence, "The people of this city...are not fond of us."

Naruto's eyes widened. "What? Why?"

"We are very devoted to our duties, and they do not begrudge us that—we do our best to protect this city and make sure that no harm comes to it, but that does not mean that its people enjoy being around us. The power that we use, and the very code we follow, is seeped in blood and violence, and they do not feel comfortable with us. You have seen what I can become, yes?"

Naruto nodded. Hisari was now looking towards the blacksmith tents, watching their occupants go about their daily duties. She sighed and then returned her gaze to Naruto, her face slightly different.

"The power that we can wield is unstable at times, and the Blood Knightt creed tells us to use whatever we can to defeat our enemies. We are the only ones among the blood elf race who embrace that power to its fullest, and use it to the point where we can become like that. We are trained to react with such violence, and for that we are feared and despised; that, and our supposed unflinching loyalty to Lord Kael'thalas."

"Why would they hate you for that?" Naruto said. "You said people wanted him to be king again."

"Among the aristocracy and government—the old families, and indeed, the majority of our population, yes that is true. But there are many these days—the young ones, who have never even met Lord Kael'thalas, and have not the faith the older ones do in his ability to lead us. Most of them call for the instatement of Lord Regent Lor'themar as the true king of our race. He has respectfully denied it, of course, because he is one of those that still believes in Lord Kael'thalas."

"What do you believe?" Sakura asked, shifting a little, as she noticed that not once had Hisari turned to look at them.

"It does not matter what I believe. But I have never met Lord Kael'thalas, or heard of him other than overly biased praise. I cannot say what type of person that he is. There are rumors, however—especially among the young, that he has made some dangerous allies, and that is why he remains in Outland instead of returning with our brethren that followed him."

"What allies?" Naruto asked.

"The rumors say Illidan Stormrage."

Naruto's heart thumped. The name and the face immediately leapt to his mind, and a hand ran across his stomach, very briefly, as if his body remembered the immense pain a single cut from Illidan Stormrage had caused him. He remembered his cruel grin best of all, and the mindless joy it held. "Him?" Naruto said. "He's friends with that bastard?"

"I heard that too," said Sakura. "From Tyrande—that's why she opposed the blood elves joining the alliance."

"Yes," said Hisari. "I do not doubt that Tyrande Whisperwind would be opposed to Lord Kael'thalas, given their history and ours." She looked at Naruto. "How do you know of him?"

Naruto told Hisari of his meeting with the former night elf. At the end, she merely nodded.

"There are many who would say that he is a perfect match for Lord Kael'thalas, who might be similarly affected by the Sunwell's energy as the Blood Knights—perhaps even greater. There are many who believe he has gone mad, and I admit that thought is very troubling."

"What if he has?"

"I cannot say," said Hisari. "But there are many who would say that if he returns, he would bring with him our doom." Then, she turned back towards the orange setting sun and the slowly emptying main street, as shops began to close and people returned to their homes.

"It is getting late," said Hisari, after a brief silence. "You must return to pack, as the zeppelineer will be arriving very shortly."

"Are you coming with us?" Sakura asked.

"No. I will stay until I have been given further orders." She looked at Naruto. "But I hope to meet again."

"Count on it," Naruto said, grinning at her. "Maybe you'll even be able to address me by name next time."

"Don't count on that."

Returning to the inn was only interrupted by Tsuwabuki's annoying announcement that it was time to pack, and after that, they settled in to waiting in the lounge of the in. In that time Naruto had to explain to Sai where he had been, and why he hadn't been able to give the boy some more pointers, and he had to endure a slightly annoyed stare from Kira (for a reason he couldn't fathom) that made him uncomfortable enough to prefer Sai's company to hers for the duration of the wait. Soon, Hisari came and told them that Matthias had arrived.

"I have heard from Lord Regent Theron that the council has been postponed for some time," said Hisari, as they boarded the Hindenborough, with her standing at the end of the gang-plank, standing ramrod straight, as if about to salute. "I hope you will return to good things, and I wish you luck in your forthcoming trials."

"You too!" cried Kira. "Thank you for everything, too. I feel better now, about having your people in this alliance."

"That is comforting," said Hisari. "But I don't know if it safe to base your judgments off me alone. As I told those two," she waved at Sakura and Naruto, "I am young, and there is much about our culture that I am still new to—you will find that not everyone are as agreeable as I."

"But that's okay!" yelled Kira, grinning widely as the engines started up, and a roaring filled the air. "If even one person changes, then others can too! See you soon, Hisari!"

Hisari didn't respond, as they zeppelin rose out of sight, though when it was gone, she still held the smiling faces of the first friends she had ever had clearly in her mind, and smiled back.

"Yes," she said aloud. "You too."

Their trip to the Light's Hope Chapel was short, but brutally informative.

The bodies had been visible from the air, strewn about the entire grounds like paint spattered across a vast canvas. They did not touch down for very long—only long enough for Naruto and Yamato to get out and look around, Naruto noting the absolute astonishment and horror on the faces of every who had one, and Yamato noting the way in which they had died. There were no survivors, yet nothing else had been touched. The Chapel stood alone and silent as death, and within nothing had been disturbed. The food supplies, the maps, the documents, the books—everything completely intact. The small bathing pavilion in the back looked freshly prepared and ready to use, and still smelt of oils and soap. But nothing lived, nothing moved; the Chapel had joined the rest of the dead in the Plaguelands.

"It wasn't Scourge," said Yamato, leaning against the side of the zeppelin's innermost cabin. "It was too clean."

"Yeah," said Fen. "They weren't slaughtered—they were assassinated. Some of the heads were missing, and I'd wager one of them was Tyrosus, and the other his closest advisors. Whoever did that wanted to cripple the Argent Dawn almost permanently."

"But how could something like that happen?" Kira said, quietly from the corner of the cabin, where she had been since the discovery. "Who could…do that to all of them?"

"In terms of strength, or morals?" said Fen. "I don't know the first, but there could be anyone who would do that, especially for the right price."

"You're thinking some hired killer?" said Yamato. "I highly doubt that the Scourge would have need of those. They don't seem to care for the living much."

"They don't have to be living…" said Fen, "…or hired. You're under the assumption that all Scourge are mindless monsters that kill and eat anything they see. If you remember, the black rider—Baron Rivendare—back in Stratholme, was anything but that. The strongest Scourge—the liches, the Deathknights, the banshee—they're almost all in possession of their original minds and a hell of a lot of them are quite cunning. But I don't think it was one of those guys. I don't even think they would bother to do something like that, or even be able to. It seems much more like they were attacked by surprise."

Naruto remembered their faces. "Yeah," he said. "I think so too. Some of them didn't even have weapons drawn."

"I think I understand what you're saying," said Sakura, slowly. "But that's impossible."

"What is?" Naruto asked.

"How so?" said Fen. "I think it's perfectly reasonable, actually."

"As do I," said Sai. "The Crusader—Fordragon, I think it was, told me that he had known a few shinobi in the past. I found it quite odd."

"And from what Kakashi-senpai has told me," said Yamato, "Akatsuki already knows of this world's existence. It's quite possible that they could have been behind it, or even that other shinobi could have discovered this place as well; and it doesn't have to be now, even. They could have come here ages ago, and been made a member of the Scourge since."

Naruto, who had been a little annoyed that nobody seemed to hear his questions, finally caught on. His eyes widened.

"You think a shinobi did that?"

Yamato's eyes slid to him, and he frowned a little in disapproval, as if bothered that Naruto had just understood what they were talking about. "It's possible, but also unlikely. But right now there seems to be absolutely no motivation behind the attack. It was sudden, quick, and efficient enough to make it disturbing. Sylvanas probably won't be pleased to hear this, either. It means that something's moving into our backyard and she won't like that. Good thing is that we'll probably know what it is soon enough, because she hates secrets as much as people calling her old. You'll probably hear from us soon enough."

Matthias came in a moment later. "The Undercity's comin' up in about half an hour, to let you know. We're not spendin' much time there, eh?"

"No," said Kira. She stood up, a note of command in her voice. "We're dropping Fenritt and Myrdraxxis off and then we're returning to immediately to Stormwind. We can't waste any more time. I have to get back to my people, and we have to tell the others about this." She turned and left the room, disappearing into the inner cabins. Kylia followed, and after a moment, so did Sakura. They reappeared only briefly to see Fen and Myrdraxxis off, and then returned to their cabin.

The return to Stormwind was far longer than Naruto had thought it would be. The days dragged on, and even when he could go outside, he found that flying was not as enjoyable with a heavy mind. He talked with Sai often during these times, and with Yamato. During one conversation, he brought up the attack he had attempted to come up with in the battle against Balnazzar.

"It is an interesting concept," said Yamato, frowning. "And now that you mention it, it seems to fit the technique perfectly. From what I understand, the Rasengan is just a technique that compresses chakra, and moulds it into a shape. From there, what naturally follows is the addition of an elemental factor, at least for most jutsu. What did it feel like?"

"It just felt, I dunno, wrong," Naruto said. "Like I was mixing two things that I knew didn't go together, but trying it anyways. Like trying to light a fire underwater, or something like that. I just felt wrong."

"I can't answer your question, in any case," said Yamato. "I don't know enough about the technique to be a good judgment, and I doubt you'd be able to tell me more, since you yourself seem to have little concept of jutsu theory as a whole." Naruto slumped a little, thinking it was a reprimand, and when he saw this, Yamato corrected himself. "Forgive me—I don't mean to put you down. You don't seem to need jutsu theory anyways, and I have the belief that teaching you about it more would just confuse you. That hasn't stopped you from learning about most jutsu, however, has it?"

"Yeah…" Naruto said. "Guess not." The subject didn't come up again.

Matthias let them off outside the gates, and as expected, there was a large group there to meet them. Benedictus stood at the forefront, and though he smiled when Kira leapt from the zeppelin and rushed over to him, it did not last, and when they had parted from the long embrace, Kira saw that his eyes were dark and clouded, and his face looked so very old. Kira's heart skipped, and she began to breath heavily.

"What is it?" she whispered. "What's wrong?"

Benedictus closed his eyes, and tried to smile, but the despair leaked through and it did not hold longer than a broken dam against a mighty river.

"It seems," he said, quietly, "that every time you return to this place, there is always despair waiting for you. Forgive me, Kira."

"What's wrong?" Kira said again, quicker this time, now trembling. "W-what's…?"

"King Magni is dead," said Benedictus. "The dwarves are soon to break off their alliance, and may even declare war on the orcs and trolls, and any who are their allies, for it appears that they are the ones who committed the crime."

"What are we supposed to do?"

It was much later, and the sky was blanketed in night, and the castle in an ever-deepening sense of despair. The entire room was restless and uneasy, and nobody but Benedictus seemed to be able to sit still. The old man sat in his chair in the Great Hall, watching as Naruto and Kira each dealt in their own way with the news. Naruto stood near the door, his eyes shadowed by his hair, his body shaking—not with grief, but with a palpable anger that filled the room like the heat from a vast fire. Tsuwabuki was pacing back and forth in front of the door, panting and snarling every so often—feeling Naruto's rage through their bond. Kira similarly paced, frantically back and forth in front of Benedictus, and her face kept changing from intense concentration to great sadness, and when the latter came about she stopped and began to quiver; but this lasted only a moment and then she went back to pacing, back to thinking. Sakura, Yamato, Kylia, Sai, and Kakashi all stood off to one side, looking on with concern, but also looking slightly out of place. They occasionally shifted in a way that looked like they might try to help, but never moved much farther then a slight shift of their posture. Sai's shifts were much more mechanical than the others, and it was hard to tell if he was doing it in imitation or simply getting used to the feeling of grief once more.

"What do we do?" Kira said again, aloud. "H-how," she faltered, and the look of despair returned. "How could this have happened?"

"The reason is obvious, of course," said Benedictus.

Naruto looked up at this. "What is it?"

"They want to destroy this alliance—whoever they might be. They are so far doing a remarkable job as well, and I don't doubt that the situation in Ironforge plays a large role in their plan." Benedictus sighed, and sat back. He had reigned his own despair for his dead friend in lieu of the situation his death had put the alliance in, but it was becoming very difficult to keep his temper reigned.

"It's going to be chaos," said Kira. "How are we supposed to control it? How are we supposed to…?"

"For now, there is little we can do for Ironforge other than offer the support that they will likely not accept, as to them we are still allied with the perpetrators of this crime."

"But they didn't do it!" Naruto roared, starting forwards. "They didn't kill Magni-jiisan! Thrall or Vol'jin would've never done something like that!"

"Please refrain from yelling at me," said Benedictus. "I'm afraid that I'm as close as it comes to losing my temper and I do not want to do that, especially when I need my head clear. It does not matter if they did do it or not, because the dwarves will not accept any possibility otherwise. The overwhelming physical evidence is far more than enough for them to consider Thrall—nay, the entire Orcish population—responsible for this crime, and it does not help that he has conveniently returned to Orgrimmar to handle a supposedly 'urgent' matter that has been brought to his attention mere days before Magni's death, or that Vol'jin has become increasingly scarce in the past few days." Benedictus sucked in a fierce breath, and expelled it in a similarly violent manner. He stood.

"What matters now is the power vacuum that Magni's death has created. He had many close advisors, but he has no heirs and he was the last, in the eyes of his people, of the Bronzebeard line, which has ruled for generations. He had no cousins, no family of any kind, and it will no doubt be a perfect time for his former advisors to agree that in order to prevent searching the history records of the entire dwarfish race, it would be better to institute a policy of election—which is utterly foolish, in any case, because people have no idea what they want—or if things are truly so troubling, then coronation by combat. More to the point, however, no matter who becomes king, Ironforge will likely be torn apart before anything happens. When the mourning ends, they will begin to squabble and argue as to who is the best suited."

"How do you know that?" said Kira. "They were Magni's closest advisors, that doesn't mean—"

"Power, my dear girl," said Benedictus, "can make even the closest of brothers kill each other in the coldest blood, no matter what form it comes in."

Naruto's heart thumped particularly hard at that. He exchanged a very small look with Sakura, who looked as troubled as he felt.

"So we bring the real killers to justice," said Kira, desperately. "We find them and…"

"How do you propose to do that?" Benedictus said. "There is almost no evidence, and I have only briefly glanced at the body before it was taken by the dwarves and I was literally thrown from Ironforge, as if I were a stowaway on a boat bound to Hell. Even so, that will not help the situation. They will still argue…we'll only have a front row seat. You know perfectly well how stubborn those people are."

"SO WHAT DO WE DO?" Kira finally screamed, unable to stop herself as she rushed up dangerously close to her master, staring straight into his dulled golden eyes and his emotionless stare, her eyes now filled with tears. "W-what do we do?"

"Tell me," said Benedictus, softly. "What would you do?"

Kira stepped back, and wiped away the tears with a few violent brushes from her hand. She was quiet for a long time, though gradually her face began to grow harder and more determined. But even when she looked up, her stare was as clear and thin as new ice.

"We have to stop them from fighting over the throne," she said, finally. "But how…? They won't let us in, will they?"

"I highly doubt it, unless we can deliver to them Thrall and Vol'jin," said Benedictus. "Our best hope would be in securing a leader that we both trust for them, or at least a leader that they can rally behind for the time being, in addition to getting for them the real killers."

"Who?" said Kira. "Who could possibly take that position, that we trust and that they would accept?"

"A Bronzebeard."

Kira blinked, now totally confused. "What?"

Naruto had started forwards too. "I though you said that Magni-jiisan didn't have anybody left in his family?"

"That is not quite true," said Benedictus. "He has, at the very most, three left in his family—three who are of Bronzebeard lineage, and thus by Dwarven law, are considered to be eligible for the crown."

"So we…" Kira began, but then stopped. She stared at him with troubled eyes. "But there's a catch, isn't there?"

"Of course," said Benedictus. "The king's youngest brother, Brann, has not been seen on this earth for nearly a decade. His last known whereabouts were the Blasted Lands, to the south, and it would be far too troublesome—and dangerous, to search that hellish wasteland for any sign of that fool. And, in my opinion, he would not make a good king in the slightest, as he has far too much of a flair for adventure."

"And the other two?"

"Are alive, to my knowledge, but in an exceedingly difficult place to reach, and are even more difficult to bring back."

"Who are they?"

"King Magni's only daughter—Moira, and her young son, whose name is not yet known to us."

Kira's eyes grew wide. "I didn't know he had a daughter…"

"That is because he rarely brought the subject up around you and your father," said Benedictus. "It was probably easier for him to forget about her."

"What?" said Naruto, "Why?"

"Because she betrayed him," said Benedictus, "by falling in love with the Emperor of the Blackrock Mountains—Dagan Thaurissian of the Dark Iron Dwarves."

Naruto frowned at this, recognizing the "Dark Iron Dwarves" part of the name, but not remembering where. Kira, however, went white and let her shoulders droop a little, as if in defeat. But then her face grew concentrated once more, and for a moment there was silence in the room, save for the occasional creak of Benedictus shifting in his chair.

"That's are only choice, then, isn't it?" said Kira.

"To my knowledge, yes."

"But how are we going to convince her?" Kira asked, more to herself than Benedictus. The old man answered her anyways.

"There are two ways—we kidnap the child, or we by some divine miracle manage to convince that besotted fool to return and rule in her father's place."

"We will not kidnap him," said Kira, angrily. "It's either both or none."

"That's a foolish condition which will be nigh impossible to realize," said Benedictus immediately. "The child is the best chance, if anything. Though he is the child of the Dark Iron dwarves as well as Ironforge, he is young and can be raised according to his father's views; in other words, he can be groomed to be king, much as Magni and your father were."

"I won't separate them," said Kira.

"Stop being naïve, Kira," said Benedictus quietly. "There is no guarantee that she will be sane—or even alive—where she is right now, especially when Thaurissian is hardly the ruler of the Blackrock Mountains."

"But—"

Yamato now spoke up, from the side, his curiosity finally getting the best of him. He stepped forwards and coughed to announce his intention to speak. "Then there is another enemy to deal with?"

"A far worse one," said Benedictus, staring at the shinobi with piercing eyes. "A being that is possibly older than this very world, and certainly the oldest creature alive today—a fire elemental, or rather the fire elemental, which is called Ragnaros."

"What is that?" Yamato asked.

"Something beyond our capacity to defeat," said Benedictus. "Which makes this all the more dangerous—we have heard little from the Blackrock Mountains since Ragnaros' rebirth, which took place near the end of the Third War, and so was destructive that it erased the lands around the Mountains, turning them into a boiling wasteland, a scar on the world. Moira's very life is in question at this point, because Magni had been unable, or perhaps unwilling, to do anything about it after he realized that she was not coming back."

"So," said Yamato, "in all reality, this could be just like the Stratholme trip—perhaps a trap, but more than likely a mission that will ultimately yield nothing."

"Yes," said Benedictus, heaving a great sigh. "Yes that is right. In all likelihood the dwarves will start their war, regardless of the true killers being found or not. In any case, they will quickly become a burden on the alliance, unless they have a leader."

"But as you said," Kakashi spoke up in his quiet, frank voice. "If this child is retrieved, how long will it take for him to come of age? Years?"

"Yes," said Benedictus, "but what the dwarves need is unity, and this child can be that. Magni's advisors can serve as the true power, and if we manage to bring the true killers to light, they will allow us to aid them as well. They are not cruel people. They are ambitious, but they will yield to their ancient laws, and they did love Magni. But they are stubborn as mules and will not change their views unless the evidence is shoved in their faces with considerable force."

"This entire plan seems completely subjective at this point," said Kakashi.

"It is the best I can come up with," Benedictus snapped. "Come up with a better one if you can manage."

Kira glanced uneasily between her master and Kakashi, who did not back away, and merely gazed blankly at the old man before shrugging, and turning to Kira.

"So what are your orders?"

Kira blinked. "Orders?"

"Tsunade-sama told us to remain here, and that we were to take any order you might give us," said Kakashi. "That includes the remaining teams of ninja. We are, after all, here to aid you in any way possible, and this seems like the perfect situation for us to handle. You have upwards of four teams of shinobi at your service—it would be quite foolish not to use them properly, you know." He used the same smile he had once used to charm his students into forgiving his constant tardiness, and Kira felt she had to smile back, if even a little.

"Okay," she said. "Then let's gather the others. We have to do this as soon as possible. There are two missions: find Magni Bronzebeard's daughter and grandson, and return to them to Stormwind…" She took a deep breath, and closed her eyes very briefly, to stop the last two tears from falling.

"…And find the true murderers of Magni Bronzebeard, and make sure that they pay for what they have done."

"So you're back, eh, Tsunade?"

"What's the problem?" Tsunade immediately snapped when she came in, finding the sight of Jiraiya sitting with his legs propped up on her desk incredibly irritating, and making it known by hurtling him a glare that could have vaporized stone. He quickly sat up, and began fiddling with his hands, though his smirk hadn't faltered.

"Did I say it was a problem?" he asked. "I said it was urgent and needed your attention, but it is far from a problem."

"Then what is it?"

"Two weeks ago," he said, "when you were still gone, a very interesting thing happened…something that I don't believe you'll quite believe. It came very suddenly and was completely shocking to almost everybody, though it's a damn good thing we were the closest ones and were able to get to it first, all things considering, though to tell you the truth, we weren't that close at all, and it's a good thing we're allies with the coastal villages. I don't think anybody else would be as…tolerant…as we are."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Tsunade had just crossed a desert and a forest, in near recording timing, to be back here, and she wasn't in the mood for Jiraiya's annoying personality. She cracked her knuckles, and Jiraiya's smile fell from his face in a blink.

"Well," he said, clearing his throat. "It'd be better to introduce you, actually." He turned, and nodded towards the door. "Oi! You can come in, now."

The door opened, and Tsunade's frustration and anger slid away, as the figure entered the room, and gave her a deep bow, which still managed to come up to her chin.

Jiraiya grinned at the look of pure shock on her face. She looked at him then, in amazement and growing delight, and he nodded.

"Yeah. I though so too."

Done. Quite liked the chapter, though I wasn't sure how it would turn out. Hopefully you guys will enjoy it.

Nothing much else to say—Magni's death was a much debated event in my head, but I realized he had to go if I was to bring in the next set of villains, and set up for the final arcs.

By the way, I made a mistake--Magni doesn't have any sons. He has two brothers, one of whom is dead. I was mistaken--forgive me. It has been corrected.

See you then!

General Grievous