Chapter 10

Narzum (Day 21)

Matt had lost count of how many days he had been held captive in this dark prison. It felt like a few weeks, but it could have been a few months and he wouldn't have known the difference. It was Illidan that had put him straight.

"Twenty one days. It's been twenty one days since you joined me in this hellhole, but we won't be confined to this prison for too much longer. We're getting stronger, more powerful, especially you", Illidan began.

His large muscular frame stood just inches from his cell bars as he grinned defiantly, the dim light gently illuminating his demonic, yet elvish features. "All we have to do is stick to the plan, continue our training, keep learning what we can, and we'll be out of here in no time. Remember, they think so little of us that they don't see us as a real threat, and we want to keep it that way for as long as possible. We...You and I, will use this to our advantage. They are strong, incredibly powerful...but you can become stronger. I can feel it. You're getting close to fulfilling your potential. Alexstrasza could see it and I can too. You should count yourself lucky that they have largely ignored you since your imprisonment. We just have to bide our time, keep our meek appearances up, and then...", he laughed deeply, "They wont know what hit them."

Matt didn't even try to contain his growing smile. It was a bitter smile, filled with impatient anger, and seething hatred. Kar'coran's face flashed before his eyes, as it did every single day since his confinement. "It's working. I'm gaining more focus and control over my power. What Alexstrasza started, is something that I'll finish myself." Nodding his appreciation towards Illidan, he added, "With your help, of course."

"The dragonqueen and I are nothing but guides leading you towards your potential. You are the one who has to grasp it." Looking at the cell bars, he closed his hands around them, gripping them tightly. "Up until a week ago, you couldn't even scratch these bars, let alone put a dent in them. We're close to our goal. Their magic won't be able to hold us much longer."

When Matt had been thrown into his cell, it hadn't taken him long to realize that the prison had been warded against magic. The Nar'zuleem had created a seemingly impenetrable wall around their cells. Matt's power had increased dramatically in a short period of time, but even he could do nothing to escape it. It was power on a different level than he had previously experienced. Under Alexstrasza's guidance, he had only just begun to learn how to understand the intricacies of how magic was constructed, how it worked and how to unravel it. At that early stage of confinement, the task was beyond him, but with Illidan's continued instruction, he had improved his knowledge and concentration beyond recognition.

Their days were regimented with absolute precision. Matt's initial unfocused rage was quickly tempered. With Valeera constantly on his mind, he realized, along with Illidan's guidance, that a mature approach was needed now more than ever. He had to contain his emotions. Use them to his advantage. Wait. Watch. Listen. Train. Meditate. Think. Be smart. Losing control wasn't an option. So, day after day, Matthew and Illidan did just that. A guard entered the prison three times per day, delivering them food. Both night elf and human played coy. Acting like weak and scared animals whenever the guards entered, worked quite obviously to their advantage.

Every day, Matt expected to be interrogated, to be tortured like Valeera, possibly by Kar'coran himself. But, like Illidan had told him, it never happened. He had asked the night elf why they had not been killed. "They have plans for their captives. I don't know for sure what they are yet, but I have my suspicions. You're not the first cellmate I've had you know. But, you're the only one that can get us out of here. Now, concentrate." Matt didn't push him on an answer, and he didn't really care. Right now, escaping was their primary target. Answers would come after.

Day after day, their routine was set in stone. Matt spent hours meditating, feeling the magic around him. Understanding it's construction. Unravelling the complex strings that formed the spell. And every day, for three weeks, he would finish by slashing the bars with a concentrated burst of sapphire energy. And for the first couple of weeks, he couldn't even mark one of the bars with his magic. But, each day, Illidan would coach him. They trained relentlessly, both physically and mentally. Between training sessions, they had learned about each other's strange and difficult lives and a trust naturally formed between them. A mixture of the reliance on each other's skills, and a kinship and understanding of power and expectation being thrust upon them both, eventually led to friendship.

The breakthrough came three days ago. Matt was going through his usual daily routine of meditation. His eyes gently shut and his mind in a relaxed state, he concentrated on the constant surge of potent energy surrounding himself and Illidan. He released his own magic, slowly, deliberately, probing for a chink in the armor of the enemy's spell. As always, it seemed like a tangled web of power, difficult even to observe, let alone know where or how to start. But his training had at least led to a process of elimination. He had tried many different methods of destroying the magic that held them over the weeks of incarceration, and by now he had come to terms that brute force alone wouldn't work. So in the last few days he had begun a different method of investigation, and so far, it was paying dividends.

In his first days here, he would unlease his most powerful magic time and time again, battering the bars and walls of his cell. But they would not bend. They would not break. He was left dejected, feeling powerless. Useless. But then he noticed something. Alexstrasza, and now Illidan, had taught him to learn to recognize different forms of magic. How each spell was constructed similarly and yet differently. Even small changes could lead to drastically different results. The Nar'zuleem's magic was constructed so differently to anything that either Illidan or Matt had seen before, that at first, it was impossible to understand, let alone destroy. But although it seemed like a constant, tangled wall of power, Matt began to notice that it's potency would change depending on it's circumstances. The changes were so small, that at first, it was barely noticeable, but he realized that it was like an adaptable security system. It changed ever so slightly depending on the threat level. When Matt had belted it with massive bursts of magical power, it would surge in power itself, but when he released his magic in short, gentle waves of power, it was as if the adaptable magic was so overpowered, that it didn't recognize it as a real threat. It was a massive breakthrough. It had allowed him to study the construction of the Nar'zuleem's magic and where it's possible vulnerabilities lay, but it required a monumental effort of concentration to keep his own magical power at a constant, low emitting, energy wave. It was something that he couldn't have managed before, but with so much riding on his efforts, he could now maintain it for a sustained period.

For days, he had studied this strange magic. How and why it adapted. And how to break it. Using this method he had been able to break, not the spell, but some of the many magical strings that were used in it's construction. It was so potent, that the magic had remained intact, but bit by bit, the construction of the spell was crumbling. The good thing about this method, was that only Matt knew of the internal damage of the spell. To anyone else, including it's wielder, it would seem like the magic was as powerful as ever. He thought about it like a beautiful looking car from the outside with the beginnings of engine trouble. Nobody would know the difference until the car broke down and by then it would be too late. He ended every session with a powerful slash of arcane energy. He was buoyed by his first attempt a few days ago, when he left a small mark on the inside of one of the cell bars. Up until that point, any level of damage, no matter how small, was almost unimagineable. But he had managed it, and it gave him the energy to continue. Then, yesterday, after carefully destroying a few more of the magical strings, his slash left a dent on the inside of the cell bar. Himself and Illidan were ecstatic at the results. They knew that their escape was not just a real possibility now, but a matter of when, not if. It wasn't an absolute, but they had figured between them, that Matt could destroy the spell completely within a week. That being said, they needed to plan their escape, and that was more difficult than it seemed.

"The problem is that we still don't know where we're being held, let alone how many there are outside these cell walls", Matt said, keeping his voice low, his tone calm.

Illidan stopped his slow pacing, and sat down on the cell floor directly opposite Matt, his legs crossed. His hulking presence was offset by his calm demeanour and almost cheery mood. "That is indeed true, but what choice do we have? I'd rather go down fighting than to suffer an unknown fate or to be left to rot in a cell. I'm sure that you feel the same way, yes?"

Matt chuckled, "Of course. It's a crazy plan with unknown consequences. What's not to love?"

Illidan grinned, baring his fangs, "I figured."

"Why are you so cheery today anyway? We're not out yet, and, you know...we could die", he grinned back.

The night elf raised his head high and sighed, almost breaking into a chuckle himself, before he lowered his head again to face the human directly. "As you know, I have spent too much time locked away. You might consider the time you've spent here to be bad, but this has been an infuriating reminder to me about how much I hate looking at cell bars. The fact that I tried to help my people, to help Azeroth, only to be imprisoned for thousands of years, still leaves a bad taste in my mouth."

Matt's eyes crinkled in understanding, "I'm not surprised."

"But my world is in trouble again, and this time I'm committed to doing something about it. Something that will make my people understand that I'm no demon, I'm a child of Azeroth, just like them. And this time, I have a strange human from another world on my side. One that, in time, could help shape the destiny of us all"

"No pressure then", Matt smirked.

"None at all. Only the fact that if you fail, we all die", Illidan shrugged his shoulders.

"Bastard", Matt laughed.

Illidan laughed with him, "This bastard is going to help you get out of here. If we die, we die. But I feel that our time isn't over quite yet. The fact that I know we're getting out of this shithole soon, puts me at ease." He lay on his back, putting his hands behind his head, "...whatever the result may be", and falling silent, the half demon, half night elf, fell soundly asleep.

Matt sat down, with his back against the cell bars, wondering about the possibilities that lay ahead of them. Escape and die, or escape and survive in an unknown hostile world, with no knowledge of how to get back to Azeroth. Neither option sounded particularly encouraging, but he knew that he needed to survive. He needed to find out what happened to Valeera, and if she was still alive, he wouldn't rest until he found a way to rescue her and bring her home. With the blood elf's beautiful face haunting his every waking moment, he eventually fell into a deep slumber, where for a short while, he was free.

Stormwind (present day)

Anduin had finally managed to get some rest after an incredibly hectic and harrowing day. He sat at his desk, staring at the growing number of lists and communication that seemed to be building up every hour. Detailed reports of the Nar'zuleem attack in Ashenvale had come in, which completely verified Matthew's account of what had occured there. Anduin cursed to himself. In any other situation, he would have been glad that the champion's account of things was on the money. That he was indeed, entirely trustworthy. But now, he would have given anything for Matt's testimony to be proved wrong. He hated himself for thinking it, but he still had a sliver of hope that maybe Matt was brainwashed by Sylvanas, and together, they had concocted this entire fantastical story about the Nar'zuleem. He sighed. But he would have to face facts. These creatures were real, and the night elves in Ashenvale not only verified it, but the accounts that sat in front of him, recorded all of it in terrifying detail.

Word had been sent to all corners of Azeroth with mixed results. Some were willing to get to work assembling troops and preparing for war, while others simply didn't believe that these Nar'zuleem were a credible threat. Some, understandably, didn't even believe that this new threat existed at all. Anduin understood all of these differing points of view. After all, trying to convince people to prepare for a world war on the evidence of several third parties, wasn't a simple process. It would take time to convince every race on Azeroth. Anduin only hoped that by the time they had everyone's support, that it wouldn't be too late. He was wondering when and how the Nar'zuleem would begin their assault, when his eyes were drawn yet again to one particular piece of parchment that lay on his desk. He took it in his hands for the umpteenth time and began to read it again.

To His Majesty,King Anduin Wrynn of Stormwind, High King of The Alliance,

By now, I am sure that our mutual friend has disclosed the disturbing news of the incoming threat, known as the Nar'zuleem. His account of these foul beings are, as I'm sure you'll agree, extremely alarming. I myself have witnessed these beings for only a short period in Ashenvale forest, but that short time was enough to discern their power. It is not one that can or should be taken lightly.

If you believe Matthew's story as I do, then you know what must be done. The forces of the Horde and those of the Alliance must join again, as we have in desperate times before. We must, for the sake of Azeroth and all of her citizens, alive and undead, put our grievances aside for this time of impending threat. I, as leader of the proud Horde, am prepared to ally my armies with those of the Alliance. I expect you to do the same.

Know this, Lion son. We are not friends, and most likely never will be. All is not forgotten. I am sure that many of your Alliance will share these sentiments, but we must fight. And in the bind that both of our peoples find themselves in, we must now fight together to stand a chance. They are coming.

I expect your official response imminently.

Regards,

Lady Sylvanas Windrunner, Queen of The Forsaken, Warchief of The Horde

Anduin placed the message down on his desk and sat back in his chair. He had already sent his response to the Warchief, but even now he still felt uneasy...unsure of himself. They would ally with the Horde of course. They had no choice. But he knew that a significant portion of the Alliance would be, at best, uneasy about it, and at worst, completely shun the idea. It was times like this that he wished Valeera was here. Someone he could talk to privately. His best friend who would always listen to his concerns and even disagree with him at times. But she was always there for him, and his father before him. He missed her desperately and he wondered if he would ever see her again.

He stood and stretched, looking forward to the comfort of his bed, even though he knew that he probably wouldn't sleep, when a series of screams could be heard from outside his window. Instantly alert, he turned in the direction of the window, when a loud explosion rocked the castle walls. The floor shuddered with the tremors, and Anduin, staying on his feet, grabbed Shalamayne and burst through his bedroom door and into...hell.

Orgrimmar (present day)

Sylvanas couldn't help but smirk at the lion cub's response. Passages such as "In these deperate times, we are all reminded of what's really important. The Horde and the Alliance have joined forces before, and we shall follow this example once again. Maybe this time, it will lead us to a lasting peace between our peoples", almost made her laugh out loud.

"I've said it once and I'll say it again. The lion cub is a naive fool. It seems the apple has fallen quite far from the tree. Varian would know better than to expect such lofty ambitions from this accord. There is too much bad blood between Horde and Alliance for this to last."

"I thought you agreed to this joining of forces, my queen", Tameriel asked, confused.

Sylvanas snorted. "I did, Tameriel. But it's out of necessity, nothing more. There will be no lasting peace to come from this, if indeed, we survive it at all. The hatred between Horde and Alliance runs too deep. You would do well to remember this."

Tameriel lowered her head slightly and nodded.

Sylvanas cocked an eyebrow, bemused. "You disagree?"

"Your thoughts are the only ones that matter", replied Tameriel

"I'm not a replacement for Arthas", snapped Sylvanas, making Tameriel jump.

Tameriel quickly knelt on one knee and bowed deeply. "I apologize. I would never compare you to such a vile creature, my queen." She heard Sylvanas audibly sigh and she raised her head again.

"What I meant, Tameriel, is that you have free will. If you have an opinion on the matter, I would hear it. Speak freely."

The dark ranger blinked and rose again to her feet. "I think that maybe...", she glanced at Sylvanas, her confidence wavering.

The dark lady, smiling now, looked amused. "Go on. There will be no consequences for your opinion. In fact, I'd very much like to hear it."

"I think that maybe there could be a possibility for some variation of peace. That is, as you say, if we survive this war. Some of us...", she glanced again at her queen, but continued on. "Some of us have begun to feel a longing for more contact with the living. More...personal contact, maybe even friendship. Possibly even more-"

"Why must you all continue to yearn for such suffering", Sylvanas cut her off, her tone cold now. Bitter. "We have tried this exercise before if you remember, and I'm sure you do. It ended in disaster. It ended in pain and mistrust. It could have ended the forsaken altogether if it wasn't handled correctly. It was lucky for you all, that your queen foresaw the results and took decisive action."

"Some of the humans were indeed disgusted at meeting their forsaken family and friends, but many others were not. Many of them not only agreed to meet, but actually embraced and cherished the moment. It gave some of us hope. It proved-"

"It proved NOTHING!", the forsaken queen snapped again, raising her voice. "The only thing it proved was that it was always an unrealistic endeavour, a fallacy, a bad joke. I allowed it to happen to prove that it could never work. We would never be accepted by the living and we don't need to be. It was proven that day."

"It was destroyed by YOU!", Tameriel shrieked, her hands trembling with anger. And fear. Fear of the consequences of the apalling outburst at her beloved queen.

Sylvanas stood silently, unmoved. Her eyes blazed a burning red on her stony visage. She began to speak, slowly, as if it took effort to produce the words at all. "So the truth finally comes out. And from you, Tameriel...of all people."

Tameriel hurried to explain herself. The last thing she wanted was for Sylvanas to think that she didn't appreciate everything the dark lady had done for them all. "Try to understand, my queen. We all love you. We did then and we still do now. You are our saviour and you will always have the complete loyalty of the forsaken people. But-"

"But", the Warchief replied, her tone still cold, but a little less so now.

"But maybe in your efforts to protect us, you took it too far. There could have been something, but you made sure that it was nothing. I understand why you killed them, but it could have gone so differently. You allowed your fear to destroy our future."

"A future of betrayal! I SAVED us from a future of betrayal, Tameriel. How can you not see that-"

"Because it's BULLSHIT Sylvanas", Tameriel shrieked.

Sylvanas seemed completely taken aback. She stood, her mouth agape. It took a moment to compose herself, such was her surprise at her trusted dark ranger's response. "Nobody speaks to me that way, not even you Tameriel."

Tameriel maintained the same attitude. Her fate was sealed, she thought, so she may as well finish the conversation in the vein of complete truth. No matter what happened to her, she owed her beloved queen this at least. "There is one whom you allow to speak to you in such a way, seemingly without consequences. Someone who's alive. It's funny how he always seemed to get away with speaking to you however he liked."

Sylvanas looked incredulous now. She couldn't believe the brazenness of her ranger's attitude. She was so angry, that her title was suddenly forgotten, and she began to argue with Tameriel as if she was one of her sisters.

"That's different. He's not even from this world, let alone the same culture as these bigots. These scared little sheep-"

"But he's human, is he not? And yet he accepted you. He accepted us all for what we are. Even though he hadn't ever seen an elf or a forsaken or an orc before in his entire life, he didn't shun us. He never treated us as freaks. If someone like that can accept us, surely the living of this world can also accept us."

They were shrieking at each other now, each as passionate in their opinions as the other. "He may be human, but you can't even compare him with the rest of these-"

"But he IS human, and alive, just like the rest of the living here. How can you deter and impede the rest of us from pursuing the same thing that you yourself have grasped with both hands."

Sylvanas struck Tameriel's face, hard, with the palm of her gauntleted hand. "How dare you. That was different. I needed his power for the Horde. For the forsaken. It was...it was a ruse to get him to our side and-"

Tameriel dropped her hand from her cheek and half covering her mouth, burst out laughing.

Sylvanas was, for the second time, competely taken aback. She was confused at Tameriel's behavior. "What?", she barked. "What's so funny? Have you lost your mind Tameriel?"

The dark ranger, still lightly chuckling, spoke in a jovial tone. "I haven't laughed like that in so, so long." She replaced her jovial tone with a serious one. "Do you really expect me to believe that Sylvanas? Maybe you could convince Nathanos, but not me. A forsaken I may be, but like you, I'm still a woman. I see the way you look at him. I heard you two together...privately. That was no ruse. You may have even partially fooled youself, but you can't fool me."

"You're walking a very fine line Tameriel. Make sure you don't cross it", Sylvanas seethed.

"But there's nothing wrong with it. On the contrary. It's a wonderful thing, my queen." Tameriel, in a surprise move, took Sylvanas's cold hands in her own. The dark lady's face instantly softened. "I'm so happy for you. Only a forsaken knows the pain and loneliness of another forsaken. I never thought that I would see you like this. Even now, you try to deny yourself him, but your soul tells you otherwise, doesn't it?"

Sylvanas stuttered. "I...He's not...What you think, isn't ..."

Tameriel squeezed her queens hands gently and spoke softly. The previous explosive atmosphere, now all but dispersed. "He's a good man Sylvanas. And he cares about you, just as you care for him. And I'm happier than you know about it. Don't deny yourself the possibility of love after undeath." She paused for a short moment before continuing. "Don't deny the rest of us the possibility of the same."

Sylvanas could see the pain and burgeoning hope in her friend's eyes. "Tameriel...", she almost inaudibly whispered. "I...I understand. I-"

An explosion rocked the floor where they stood. Screams of shock and fear could be heard intermingled by those of pain. It was coming from the streets of Orgrimmar.

Sylvanas and Tameriel looked at each other. Tameriel looked panicked. Sylvanas grabbed her bow and clapped her friend on the back. "Come Tameriel. They're here. It's begun." And the Warchief of the Horde and her dark ranger rushed out the door, and into the frenzied streets of Orgrimmar.

Narzum (Day 24)

Matt was close. He could feel it. After destroying more of the magical strings that held the seemingly impenetrable spell together, he used his own magic once more. This time, when he slashed forward towards the cell bars, his intuition kicked in, and he held back. He was right to, as his weakened magic left the largest dent yet on the inside of the bars. It wasn't enough to break through quite yet, but if he used his full power, he would have alerted the guards to their escape and ruined their plans. He breathed a sigh of relief.

"I'm nearly there. I won't use my magic to attack the spell anymore. I'll only be dismantling it from the inside. I give it another couple of days and then...", he smiled at Illidan, "...I can break it. And we can get the fuck out of here."

Illidan, clearly keeping himself from roaring out loud in celebration, gripped the bars tightly. "You've done well Matt. Nobody else could have done what you've achieved."

Matt grinned in response. "The even better news is that, in dismatling the spell, I've a much better understanding of how they construct their magic. I think that I'll be able to add their methods to my own eventually, and with practice, use their own power against them"

"Yes", Illidan growled quietly, "But we need to get out of here first, and preferably alive."

"I can't die. Not yet. I have to find Valeera and kill that bastard Kar'coran if it's the last thing I do."

"A tantalyzing prospect for another day, but we need to solidify our plan for when we get out of here. We need to be prepared for every scenario. Do you think that you'll be able to hold off their magic for the duration of our escape? With a few more day's practice, of course."

Matt thought for a moment, weighing up the factors involved. "I think so...No, I'm pretty confident that I can. If I can dismantle a spell this powerful, I should be able to keep them off us for at least a short while. Enough that we can figure out our next move", he nodded with an air of confidence. he had learned his lesson. He wouldn't underestimate an enemy opponent again, but his training had yielded extremely positive results, and there was no point in attempting an audacious escape half-heartedly. "And remember, they still think that we're helpless against their powers. That should buy us some more time. They won't be expecting a real fight."

Illidan smiled, soaking up the idea of imminent freedom. "Indeed. Let's finalize the details and rest for now. We will need our strength."

Speaking in hushed tones long into the night, the night elf and human planned and waited, knowing that their chance would come. And it would come soon.

Stormwind (present day)

Anduin rushed past the keep's guards who were in a frenzy, some hustling together to protect their king, and the rest dashing out of Stormwind Keep and into the streets. He grabbed one of the guards by the shoulders, "What's happening? Are we under attack?"

The guard, clearly unsettled, bumbled his way to an answer. "Ye...Yes, we...we're under attack, your majesty. The description of the enemy seems to match those of the Nar'...Nar'zubil... Nar'zileebeen."

Anduin barely managed to stop his eyes from rolling, and sqeezed the man's shoulders tighter with anger, the tension rising rapidly. "The Nar'zuleem! You'd do well to remember their name soldier. They're here?", he gasped. He gripped his sword tighter still, "By the light! Already. And they have the audacity to attack Stormwind immediately. Do we have reports of civilian casualties? How many are there out there?" Anduin shouted his quick-fire questions at the rattled guard.

"T...Two, your majesty", he replied, gulping for air.

Anduin's face softened just a little. "Thank the light. Only two casualties so far." He let go of the guard's shoulders, and thrust Shalamayne forward towards the main doors of the keep and the growing noise of war outside. More soldiers had gathered now and were congregating around their King.

Anduin looked at them. "Let's make sure that those two unfortunate souls are the only ones this night. The brave soldiers of Stormwind are out there right now protecting our citizens. Let's not leave them waiting for backup." With his face tense but unwavering in front of his men, the power of the light gathered around him and moved to encapsulate them all.

The surrounding guards collectively inhaled and looked on at their King with pride and confidence. They roared together in defiance of the enemy and prepared themselves for the ensuing battle.

A timid voice could just be heard above the din. Anduin strained to listen, and turning around, realized that it was the bumbling guard. He was trying to speak to Anduin over the noise of the other guards.

Anduin moved his arms, hushing the guards, and asked, "What is it?"

"Eh...your majesty. I...I meant the enemy"

Both Anduin and the guards looked confused. The sounds of battle still raged outside the keep's walls and they were all eager to join their brothers and sisters in protecting their city. Anduin couldn't completely hold back his annoyance this time. "What do you mean? Quickly soldier, time is of the essence."

"The enemy...the Nar'zib...the Nar'zuleem. There are only two of them."

Everyone shared the same stunned look of confusion, then the horror of understanding, and then finally, disbelief. More terrified screams could be heard outside and another explosion rocked the castle walls.

"What...you mean to say that there are only two Nar'zuleem out there?", Anduin replied, the color slowly draining from his face.

"Yes, your majesty!", the guard replied.

Anduin stopped his hand from shaking by gripping the handle of his sword in a death grip. "And how many casualties?"

"Before you arrived, reports of between one to two hundred, your majesty." The guard swallowed, "Those are civillian numbers. Soldiers...I...", he shrugged his shoulders.

Anduin could feel the belief in his soldiers diminish. Hell, he could see their shoulders and faces visibly sag in disbelief.

"Only two of them...and THIS...", one of them uttered.

"PROTECTORS OF STORMWIND!", Anduin roared. Everyone jumped, alert again. "It doesn't matter if there are two or two thousand of them out there. Our people need protection and that's our job. Your's and in particular, MINE! I'm going out there. Who's coming with me?"

The guards, their resurging confidence and belief in their king overriding their fear and uncertainty, shouted again. With their fighting spirit renewed and weapons at the ready, they followed Anduin out the main doors of Stormwind Keep and onto the battletorn streets.

They were immediately bombarded with images of buildings on fire and crowds of people running and screaming in terror. Dust and debris from the previous explosions still hung in the air, making visibility difficult. Anduin began barking orders as Shalamayne glowed in his hand.

He grabbed one of his most trusted guards by the arm. "Devon. Take fifteen men with you. The civilians are rushing towards us, so the enemy must be due northwards, towards the docks. Flank to the right. I'll send another fifteen to flank left and the rest will follow me. We'll meet up with the rest of the troops soon, I'd imagine. Take care, friend! They may be only two, but you can see the damage they've wrought."

Devon nodded. "We won't shirk our responsibilities. We'll take the fight to them and make them wish they were never born. Take care yourself, your majesty. You are the peoples ho-"

Anduin was suddenly assaulted by a crimsom mist as his eyes instictively shut. He could feel the wet spray covering his face and spattering like rain against his armor. He opened his moist eylids, sticky with some sort of residue. Devon had disappeared. He caught sight of his hands and armor which were covered in the same sticky crimson spray and it dawned on him. Devon had been vaporized right in front of him. His lips and tongue had also been covered in his guard's sticky remains and the thought of it almost made him gag in front of his horrified men. He tried to keep his head from spinning from the shock and spat onto the ground, the globule of spit looking like he had coughed up his own blood. But Anduin and his men knew better as they tried to shake off their collective disgust. He looked in the direction of where Devon had only just previously stood and was presented by a creature like none he had ever seen, but one that he had heard all about. One of the Nar'zuleem.

For a moment, Anduin and his men froze, drinking in the creature's appearance. This lasted only a second or two, as Anduin and his guards suddenly sprang into battle.

What happened next, Anduin could only remember as a flurry of blood and violence.

Anduin hadn't noticed that they were joined by a small group of archers who attacked the creature in unison. Arrows were let loose from bowstrings but never pierced the Nar'zuleem. He had summoned a shield of sorts, but none like any of them had ever seen before. The arrows didn't simply ricochet off the invisible shield. They seemed to sink slowly into it and suddenly transform into black tendrils of smoke, which were instantly flung back at them. One of the archers that had joined them was the first to be hit. The smokey tendril struck her above the breastplate and the rest watched in horror as it seemed to drill into her flesh and disappear. Nothing happened for a moment, as she seemed to exhale a sigh of relief. Everyone was looking at the Nar'zuleem now and he suddenly cocked his head to the side and opened his mouth in a crooked smile. The female archer screamed a high pitched cry of obvious agony and the others watched in abject terror and revulsion at what happened next. It began as it ended. Horrifically. Her fingertips suddenly burst apart, spraying blood and fingernails onto the muddy streets of Stormwind. Her head snapped backwards as black veiny tendrils began to worm their way around her skin, eventually leading to her face. It was as if her skin had suddenly been pierced with invisible darning needles. Small holes began to appear all over her exposed skin, and one by one, blood began to spurt everywhere, from every tiny hole in her body. She screamed as much in alarm at what was happening to her, as well as the torment and pain it brought. Her tongue seemed to disolve in her mouth and her previous screams were now nothing but anguished gargles, as bile and blood intermingled, sending a crimson river streaming down her armor. Her eyes ruptured in a sickening pop and she fell to the ground, her agony finally over.

One of Anduin's guards vomited and fled. Anduin gritted his teeth in anger and was about to cry out, when the other archers began to display delayed symptoms of the first. Before he could utter a word, the king and his men were mottled with blood and bile, as every archer that had let loose an arrorw, began to quickly disintegrate in a bloody pockmarked mess, eventually dropping to the ground like flies.

Anduin roared in anger and sprang sword first towards the enemy. His soldiers followed. One on the left literally exploded into particles of ice. A guard that had leaped in front of his king exploded into red mist, as Anduin was once again covered in human remains. His blonde hair was dripping blood as he leaped at the vile creature, gripping Shalamayne in both hands, and brought down his sword with all the might and anger that he could muster. The sword smashed into the shield and there was an audible crack, as dust exploded around the Nar'zuleem's invisible buffer with the sheer force of the blow. The creature's shield didn't seem to be affected much by the powerful sword strike, but it seemed to visibly annoy him. He looked at Anduin with seething anger. He uttered but one word. "Suffer!" And with a sudden flick of his wrist, Anduin's men were instantly cut to ribbons. Decapitated heads and body parts dropped to the street around Anduin, as the king fell to one knee in shellshock.

This was it, he thought. He would either destroy this creature now, or die with his men. His father's face flashed before his eyes. Varian Wrynn. Lo'Gosh. A true King of Stormwind. He was smiling that smile. A smile that exuded confidence and pride. Pride in himself and pride in his son.

Anduin opened his hand and his palm burst with light. He prayed like he had never prayed before. He couldn't let this monstrosity leave this place. Not after the damage he had wrought. He felt his father's spirit with him and the light filling every pore and every cell of his being. The Nar'zuleem looked on with amusement and all of a sudden, the area around Anduin exploded with a mighty, transcendent light. Anduin stood and struck the shield again with the power of the light surrounding him. At the same time, a thunderous bolt of lightening struck the invisible barrier, and this time Anduin heard a loud crack, as Shalamayne broke through the shield and stuck into the ground. "NOW! STRIKE NOW ANDUIN!" He quickly glanced up. Jaina Proudmoore was continuing her powerful lightening assault on the Nar'zuleem, taking his attention away from the king. He needed no second invitation, as his friend bought him the time for one last strike. He gripped his sword, pulling it out of the dirt. He remembered later on but still didn't know for sure, but he felt his father swinging the sword with him. He aimed for the neck and took the creatures head from it's shoulders in one strike. It fell to the ground and bounced a few steps before stopping. The body followed, dropping to the floor, sending more dust into the air.

Jaina landed beside Anduin and without saying anything, she froze the head, and burned the body. Anduin found that he could only watch, as he stood, sword in hand, breathing heavily. Jaina turned to look at him, and her eyes opened wide in shock and what Anduin thought later was a mix of horror and sorrow. "A...Anduin, are you...", she realized that it was a stupid question and didn't continue. Anduin was dripping with gore. Blood and body parts littered the streets. There was nothing to say that could comfort either of them now.

Jaina changed the subject. "We took out the other one. Matthew's intel was correct. He saved many lives today, even without being here"

Anduin stared at her and nodded, blood still dripping from his hair. "How many?"

Jaina averted her gaze, but knew that it was stupid. This was the reality of what they were facing. "The one we fought killed over two hundred civilians and at least seventy or eighty soldiers. And then this one..."

"I'd say about the same. And we managed to kill two Nar'zuleem...TWO...two...", Anduin replied. He couldn't take his eyes off the bodies that surrounded him.

Jaina found that she couldn't reply in the right way at that moment. Images of Theramore began to flash through her mind.

Anduin stood in defiance, still holding his sword. "Chaos may reign in this war before peace once again arrives to these lands, but if we didn't know before, we certainly know now. Azeroth needs us." He once again spat blood out of his mouth, as Jaina tried to hide her surprise. "But we'll fight, Jaina. To the last man and woman, we'll fight!"

Orgrimmar (present day)

It took many deaths and countless injuries for Sylvanas and her Horde soldiers and mages to destroy the Nar'zuleem, which ended up being an army of two.

The streets were awash with blood, and buildings had collapsed, including the orphanage. Sylvanas couldn't help but stare at the destroyed building. Some of the children's bodies lay strewn on the ground, rubble and debris covering most of them. Blankets covered the rest of the child casualties. It disturbed the banshee queen more than she had imagined that it could. She knew of Matt's interaction with the orphanage's children and how much he hoped for a better life for them, and the destruction that she witnessed angered her. Much more now. And she knew why, even if she couldn't quite admit it to herself just yet. One thing was for certain, they had a war on their hands all right. And one which spelled more of disaster than triumph. She was worried. A feeling that didn't sit well with her at all. How could they hope to defeat these creatures when an entire army arrived. She wondered where Matt was right now. And again, she worried.

Narzum (Day 27)

Today was the day. They had planned and they had trained, but what or who lay outside these walls was still a mystery to the two men who sat incarcerated inside them. But there was no going back. They were committed. It was lunch time. The guard entered as always, right on time. The night elf and human friends' eyes met. With words unspoken, they acted swiftly. One way or another, they were leaving this place today. As either lifeless corpses or free men.