Chapter 8.

Jaina let the energies flow through her as water through a babbling brook. They encircled and saturated every cell of her body. As she became overflowing with the mystical quantity, she could only feel more ethereal. Ancient archaic words, long since memorized, were quietly whispered from her lips. Slowly and surely her form became more transparent, and eventually light disregarded her presence entirely. The enchantment she'd placed on herself even allowed for her footsteps to be stifled.

Every mature sense in her head rued her from eavesdropping, but she still retained her youthful sense of curiosity. She tiptoed, unable to be seen even by the enchanted eye, to a private hut, where the silhouettes of Tyrande and malFurion stood in embrace. It was well concealed and the inhabitants of the Night Elf base did not go near it, as not to disturb the couple. Though they were surrounded by a tarp it did not do much to hide them. Anyone able to lightly press their ear against the material could hear their hush voices, and the son, now beginning its decent, projected their fuzzy but distinct shadows on the opposite wall. .

"...And what of the third guard? I thought that your sentinels' had taken little loses." Spoke malFurion, his deep voice sounding as if it had known a thousand years and not aged one.

"I'm sorry, love, but that is what I merely told our allies. In truth many have been slain and injured. Only eight of our twenty troops now remain.", In her words Jaina heard something never before manifest in the priestess's voice...fear.

" Dearest, I assure you that we shall not have to fight any longer".

"But, it isn't just that. I feel...I feel as though I'm losing it. Though my ability haven't deteriorated, I feel less in tune with them. Furion... I'm becoming weaker".

"These power's we have are merely to protect Asheville, and we've already managed to remove the most major threat. The sands of time will erode our abilities but we shall not need them...", Jaina could see Furion's large hand gently stroke the outline of Tyrande's face. "Especially as long as I have you". The two silhouettes merged.

Before long Jaina noticed Thrall approaching. While not sure why he sought the audience of the two, she was sure it would directly affect their situation, so she had to listen. When Thrall reached the tent he came precariously close to her. Jaina had to pull her blue cape, embroidered with symbols and insignia of a former student of the Kirin Tor, out of the way, so he wouldn't trip. It almost seemed as if he was aware of her presence, but that was impossible. Nothing had been able to sense the spell she had crafted after hours of countless study. He entered the vacinity of the lovers.

Immediately they let go of each other. Jaina had observed that Tyrande and Furion kept their relationship confidential. Tyrande shed her cocoon of fairness and assumed into her normal ornery attitude..

"And what is it that you need?" she snapped.

"I seek nothing more than your attention.", spoke Thrall's gruff yet compassionate voice.

"You do realize we were preoc..." The young mage saw Furion graciously push Tyrande aside and whisper, softly, something in her ear. Tyrande abated and Furion addressed the Warcheif.

"Though you have interrupted us I urge you to speak, but I will only listen to matters of utmost importance."

Thrall's shadow nodded, "It has come to my attention that, while our campaign has been successful, we have not maintained our Ideal numbers...".

Tyrande let go of herself and interrupted." Yes, but we are defeating the enemy. Furion please it is not worth our time to listen to him.".

"Well I do agree with Thrall so far. I myself have seen too many good druids die. I believe if Thrall has an Idea he should propose it.. Thrall continue".

"I merely request that we not combine our forces but our techniques. We have fought alongside but not together and look at the toll it has taken on us. My men..."

"Your men are but a shadow of the green sea of destruction they used to be. I've heard the tales, how you used to be feared as a plague, how your enemies cowered in fear of this " horde of destruction" and even before then when you had your own planet. Do not think that because I don't like you that I don't know you. My warriors have seen and conquered enemies far greater than the scourge. To us they are pathetic. We use proven effective tactics and it shall be a cold day before we share the secrets given to us by Ysera."

Tyrande's attack was viscous but Jaina saw no sign of Thrall's head lowering, then again she could only see faint shadows. He still replied, and with the same calm controlled tone he normally had.

"Are we truly different, then?"

"Can we be any more dissimilar. Do I need to point out the obvious or are you colorblind, like dogs?"

"But we both ask for nature's guidance. You practically have let yourselves be assimilated into the beautiful graces of the elemental spirits, and we ask, as their servants, their assistance. Even our lowly peons pledge to replant every tree they cut down in times of war.".

"How could an Orc possibly have a relationship with nature? You are alien to this world. The only tales the forests have told me are of ugly encroachers, who cut and burn forest, and treat nature as a mere tool for their warmongering.".

Thrall could not fine rebuttal for this, instead he uttered a single succinct phrase, "Fine."

The large Orc motioned for them to follow him, and led the two out of the tent. Immediately he strode to a large clearing, and began to mutter some inaudible Orcish. For a while nothing happened, and Tyrande seemed unconvinced and cynical.

But before she open her mouth to continue harassing the chieftain, a small bluebird landed on Thrall's right gauntlet. In five seconds another Bird landed next to him. This one was brown. A pair of squirrels began chasing themselves around the large Orc. A lock of crows flew onto the ground in front of him. A family of Fox settled by his left boot and the young ones rested on it. Even an Owl perched on Thrall's head and looked directly at Tyrande. Before long, masses of forest creatures came to Thrall. Thrall seemed, less an Orc, but now a cocktail of woodland wildlife. Every species of bird and rodent rested about him, and in perfect contentment. A microcosm of a perfect harmonized world was strewn about the Warcheif. Triumphantly he stared at Tyrande, and at that moment all the animals fled back to the forest. The only one witch remained was the small bluebird, which he petted in his great hands.

"Perhaps you do not listen close enough. "Thrall lifted his hand and the bluebird took flight.

Tyrande's mouth seemed as though it would fall off and Furion, who watched silently in awe, looked very pleased. Jaina, who was still crouching, invisible, beside the tent, was amazed at the powers of a Shaman. Thrall had proven, beyond a doubt he was intertwined with nature.

Tyrande, still aghast at the spectacle, attempted to choke out a response, but, before she could speak, a fatigued, armor clad human threw himself in front of them. Gasping for air he managed to huff out a broken message.

"Outpost... number eight... ha... fallen.". He said before attempting to clutch his heart underneath the silver laden breastplate.

To Thrall, Furion, and Tyrande's surprise Jaina instantly became visible and aided the collapsed soldier.

"Please, come help him,". She begged the confused trio. A tug was felt on her sleeve and she saw the messenger attempting to tell her something. Jaina then pressed her ear against the slit in his helmet. Before fainting he managed to whisper three words.

"scourge has... returned".