(Warnings for a hospital-like setting and mentions of terminal illness in this chapter)

Sylvanas watched from the docks as ships were loaded, a familiar train of mules moving gear and supplies from the staging area. She made sure to make frequent eye contact with Ihz, purely to put her on edge. A little revenge for how many times that particular champion had pushed the limits on the spirit of her orders.

Curiously, a gaggle of Goblins were running around, speaking with Champions and soldiers both, and handing out some kind of item. She narrowed her eyes and was about to go investigate when Jaina teleported in next to her. Her wife held up her hands. "Before you go and get angry, I did something and I hope you'll approve. I've been thinking about this ever since our talk."

"This ought to be good," Sylvanas drawled, trying to deduce which talk Jaina was speaking of. She cocked her hip and waved her right hand. "Out with it."

Instead of saying anything, Jaina simply held out a round, flat stone. It was made from a kind of obsidian and covered in faintly glowing red runes. They pulsed the closer Sylvanas got to it.

Sylvanas took it and held it up to inspect it. There was some kind of energy buzzing through it that made her distinctly uncomfortable. It felt wrong, somehow, almost as though it was anathema to her existence. Her eyes darted to her wife, alarmed. "What is it and why are you handing them out to the expeditionary force?"

And what was wrong with it?

"I thought it might be prudent to… start putting into place rules about certain kinds of resurrection," Jaina explained, calmly holding Sylvanas's gaze even as anger, white and hot, flashed through her.

"Did you."

"Yes." Jaina plucked the stone from Sylvanas's hand. "This is only the first real iteration, but it's basically a DNR Stone."

A sense of relief washed over her the moment Jaina took the stone from her, but Sylvanas simply raised her eyebrow and waited.

"Do Not Raise," Jaina explained. "Any carrying it will not have their bodies raised against their will. It's enchanted so they don't accidentally get raised in mass combat, where there's no time to really pick and choose volunteers."

There were spells to bring someone back from the very brink of death. Priests and Druids and others utilized them to great effect.

But at a certain point, the person was too far gone and the only way to bring them back was as the mindless dead; or a Forsaken. That anger still burned through her, but it was cold now. Sylvanas's voice was eerily calm. "And if one does not carry this stone?"

"Then they accept the possibility of their bodies being used to continue the fight."

"And if they lose the stone? Or would prefer to be Forsaken?" Important questions, and Sylvanas's eyes locked onto the stone in Jaina's hand.

"As I said, first iteration. But I thought of the latter. There are two variations." Jaina waved the one she was holding. "This one means no raising. Ever. The one with blue runes allows for raising only as one of the Forsaken."

Sylvanas's eyes slid from Jaina to the docks. She recognized that cold feeling now. It was almost like fear. "They are on a time table. You thought that there was no time to ask."

"I'm sorry." And Jaina genuinely looked sorry. She put her hand on Sylvana's arm.

Feeling her anger dissipate, Sylvanas waved her hand. "It was… the right call. Many in the Horde would not choose this, just as most in the Alliance would not. The other leaders remain unconvinced as to the necessity of my people continuing to exist. I had not wished prejudice to doom my species; yet I am not delusional enough to deny that reactionary fear has only ever made things worse."

"And yet some will choose. And have," Jaina pointed out. "You've always feared the dwindling of your people. There is now an avenue for one to… volunteer before they die. The Forsaken can live on. So to speak."

The stone disappeared into one of Jaina's pouches, and Sylvanas felt something akin to a punch in the chest. That Jaina would carry such a stone was unsurprising. That it was a red-runed stone?

That cold was replaced by a lonely ache. But she said nothing of it. "Continue to iterate on the idea, but for now it is a … good measure. Next time you've an idea of this magnitude, talk to me first."

Jaina's shoulders were tight, and she was avoiding eye contact. "It still operates on...an honor system. Of sorts. The enchantment should be powerful enough to avoid their being raised by accident, but they're only runestones. They can be brute-forced. Anyone carrying them has to trust that their decision will be respected."

Sylvanas had assumed this would come up again. She hadn't anticipated the setting being quite this public, and took several long moments to ensure her voice would be as calm as it ever was.

"I had intended," she said carefully, "to make an offer. Not a threat."

Jaina took Sylvanas's hand, squeezing it. "Will you stay here until they have left?"

"Yes."

"Then I'll stay here with you."

Sylvanas nodded. She did not let go of Jaina's hand.

Jaina shifted around in her throne, not used to it but grateful the back was lower than the Warchief's seat; she wasn't a fan of the whole towering back thing, though she was jealous of some of the patterns unique to Sylvanas's throne. She shifted again, leaning to the side and hanging a leg over the opposite armrest, subconsciously mimicking Sylvanas.

She wasn't sure why she'd even come into the hold. The expedition had left hours ago and the Hold was empty except for herself; and the statuesque, leggy blood elf that dropped down from the rafters. Jaina raised her eyebrow at Valeera. "There's a door, you know."

"I get that a lot." Valeera replied, giving Jaina a half-smile. "But I didn't want to be noticed. You can … not hit me with that spell. That would be nice."

Jaina let the magic around her hands dissipate with a wave of her hand. "Some people want me dead."

"Besides Blightcaller?"

"Probably." Jaina swung her leg off of the armrest and got to her feet. "What brings you out of the shadows, Valeera?"

"Questions," Valeera said, clasping her hands behind her back. She seemed to study Jaina. The way she moved, the way she stood. "To set my mind at ease."

"And Anduin's mind, too, I imagine?" Jaina wondered if she was passing muster and what seemed to be of so much interest. She studied Valeera in turn, wishing Anduin had sent Vereesa. She'd be more comfortable talking to Vereesa. "I hope you know I've got no intention of spilling any details, sordid or otherwise."

Valeera stopped, close enough to Jaina that Jaina felt her hackles rise. But she didn't back down, lifting her head to look up at her. "Well?"

To her credit, Valeera was blunt and to the point. "Are you being coerced? Is this-" She gestured at the thrones, and then at Jaina. "Genuine? Do you feel-"

Jaina held up her hand. "That's enough."

She knew Anduin, and knew he'd be uncomfortable with these questions. But he'd still be concerned, still seek ways to protect her and help her if she needed it. Still; the fact that it came from a place of caring didn't make Jaina any less angry. And a little hurt that he hadn't sought her out himself. Curtly and with a little fire in her eye, she snapped. "Have the last seventeen times I've answered that question not been enough? Would you like me to submit it in writing? I could get it notarized. Perhaps in triplicate."

The anger crested, and Jaina added, "And if he sends you to Orgrimmar in secret again I won't be able to guarantee your safety. But I'm going to guess this isn't your first trip."

Valeera didn't confirm that, but nor did she deny it. She simply nodded her head, and said. "So you really are in love with her."

"Get out." Jaina didn't start breathing again until Valeera was gone. Then she closed her eyes and counted backwards from ten.

"Very well done, Lady. You almost managed to keep from staring at her legs."

Jaina's eyes snapped open, and she turned to where Nathanos's voice had come from. "Enjoy the show?"

"Immensely." He walked up to one of the steps, now standing above Jaina. "Interesting, how easily she was able to sneak through our wards."

"Valeera is torn between two worlds, just like I am," Jaina said, flexing her fingers as she imagined setting Nathanos on fire. "But are you implying that I somehow knew of the presence of the best spy in the Alliance, let alone assisted her?"

"Of course not." He smiled, the expression unnerving her, though she refused to show it.

"Aside from the eavesdropping, did you want something?" Jaina ran her fingers through her hair.

Nathanos stepped down, moving until he was deep within Jaina's personal space. As with Valeera, she didn't lean away.

"Yeh might wanna rethink yeh proximity t'my Lady." Tyra leaned on her sword, well within striking distance of Nathanos. When had she even arrived and how had she moved so quietly?

Jaina didn't like her odds against him, but appreciated the effort regardless. "I'm fine, Tyra."

"I merely wished to offer my congratulations on your new program, with those lovely little stones." Nathanos took a step back. "And there is someone I want you to meet."

He turned and started walking out of the Hold. Jaina glanced at Tyra and gestured. "Come on, I'll feel better if you have my back."

"Always got yeh back, Lady." Tyra fell into step to Jaina's right and slightly behind her.

"You can call me Jaina, you know. It's been years."

"Sure thing, Lady."

Jaina could just hear the grin in Tyra's voice.

Nathanos was waiting for them, the red glow of his eyes casting his face into shadow. It was eerie, and made it impossible to tell what he was thinking. Not that it was possible at any other time.

He led them around the west side of the Hold and down towards the Cleft of Shadow, then past it for a few minutes until they'd reached a set of newer buildings.

Jaina probed it with her magic. "What's this?"

"Against my advice, the Warchief has once again allowed some of the living to seek audience with their Forsaken kin. Only in much more controlled circumstances." His eyes fell on Tyra. "Go in, Miss Cole. But remember that some things are only pleasant on the surface."

Almost as if in a daze, Tyra pushed the door open, and stepped inside. Jaina shot Nathanos a look, then followed her in. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust, and when they did, she gasped.

The interior was arranged like a barracks, with a dozen bunk beds along each wall. A number of humans lingered about and the place smelled like medicine and death.

Jaina lifted her hand to her chest, grasping her necklace. "They're all dying, aren't they."

"Most are, yes."

There was a bucket filled with DNR stones, one for red and one blue. Many of the sick held red runed stones.

"They came to visit their loved ones at the end," Nathanos said. Bitterness edged his voice. "Before they were forever parted. And yet, given the chance to live on and be with them, most have chosen death."

"Not all," Jaina pointed out, staring at a young woman who was rubbing her fingers over one of the blue-runed stones. A red-rune stone was in her lap.

She was in her mid-twenties, blonde and heavily tanned from a life outdoors. But her illness had sapped away some of her definition. She lifted her eyes at the newcomers, and when they met Tyra's they lit up with renewed energy. "Tyra!"

Tyra just stood there, mouth hanging open, staring at the woman like she was some kind of ghost. Jaina nudged her, and she said in a small, nervous voice. "S'my sister."

Jaina looked between them again, at the obvious effort the woman took to move, then the DNR stone, before she pushed Tyra forward. "Go talk to her, then."

Lurching forward, Tyra caught herself on a table. The woman reached forward and took her hand between her own.

"Cassandra Cole," Nathanos said. "Some kind of wasting disease. Alliance healers can only stall it. Horde healers haven't been able to do much better."

"How long does she have?"

"Six months to a year, I suppose. Champion Minuial came through here a few days ago, but even she cannot fight the inevitability of death."

Jaina turned away from the sisters, staring at Nathanos. There had to be an angle here, some part of a plan to… what? "Sylvanas never told me of this. Why?"

"You'll have to ask her yourself." Nathanos nodded his head towards Cassandra. "But she has now been given a choice, thanks to you. Will she choose death, or reject her people and take the chance to be with her sister again?"

Paladins, apparently, made for good emergency flotation devices. At least that was what A'sooka had told Belariss repeatedly over the past few days.

Bela was less convinced, but such talk kept the Draenei from thinking of their circumstances and the inevitable death from dehydration. She wasn't a mage to conjure water, and her magic reserves were mostly depleted from keeping them shielded during the initial upheaval and the days after.

Slip into our embrace.

She lay on a piece of wreckage, sprawled on her back as the sun beat down on them. A'sooka was next to her, her presence a strange kind of comfort. It was nice, not dying alone.

It was selfish, but she hoped she went first, rather than losing A'sooka and being left alone.

"Think anyone made it to shore? To warn people?"

A'sooka's voice was like a dry lake bed, and Bela doubted hers was much better. "Odds are likely."

"Think someone will find us? Not the Naga, I mean."

Bela moved her hand until it rested on top of A'sooka's. "No, the odds are very low that someone will find us."

Hopeless, it's hopeless. Take my hand.

Turning her hand around, A'sooka threaded her fingers with Bela. Again, Bela was grateful she wasn't alone.

"Think...someone will."

"At least one of us is an optimist," Bela responded, closing her eyes.

"I'll make you a bet." A'sooka rolled her head towards Bela. "Someone finds us, you owe me a kiss."

Bela shrugged tiredly. "Fine. It's a bet."

"Great. I can't wait to collect." A'sooka laughed, then coughed and groaned.

Too tired to say anything, Bela let herself start to drift off to the sound of the water lapping against debris. But there was something else. Another sound underneath it all and distant.

False hope.

Creaking wood, flapping canvas, voices calling out. It got louder, and closer, but the last thing Bela heard before she drifted off was A'sooka whispering, "Told you."

***A YEAR AGO***

Nathanos did not like the way that Sylvanas looked at Proudmoore. Though he was absolutely certain she did not realize it and would never admit to it, there was more than lust in her eyes.

Proudmoore had her nails in Sylvanas and was completely unaware as to the full extent of the control she had. Even as Sylvanas lured Proudmoore into her lap, Proudmoore was the one in control.

It was as though his Lady was intoxicated, and Nathanos pinched the bridge of his nose when she tore off Jaina's corset. He cared little for propriety or privacy but he could not in good conscience watch this. Silently, he slipped through the shadows in the cracks and into Orgrimmar proper.

"Lord."

"Bass." Nathanos walked with his hands behind his back as his chief spy kept to the shadows. "Speak quickly."

"Raze continues to remain out of contact. I believe he's gone rogue."

"I shall bring this to the Warchief," Nathanos replied. "For the time being have our people maintain a distance and monitor his actions and location."

"I also have the Three Sisters report ready for you, my lord."

At that, Nathanos came to a stand still. He held out his hand. "The network is in place then?"

Bass placed a file into Nathanos's hand, inclining his head to him. "Everything is ready, as the Warchief ordered. Victory for Sylvanas."

"Victory for Sylvanas," Nathanos replied. "Just remember. Patience. Discipline. Our time will come."

"Dark Lady watch over us both." Bass's voice faded as he melded back into the shadows.

Nathanos flipped through the file and smiled. "Indeed, she shall."