Chapter 29 - Guardians of the forest

Even long after the two demons vanished, Dalrus was still frozen in place. It was a while before his legs could move again. His face was drenched in sweat, and his mouth felt very dry. He couldn't take his eyes away from the hellish landscape the two demons had created before his eyes. The corrupted fountain was still spewing its tainted contents all over the stones that comprised it, as well as the dead grassy floor in its surroundings. All the animals were gone. The furbolgs were all dead. And he could still feel that demonic presence emanating from the corrupted fountain.

And then... There were the new guardians of the fountain.

Just before the demons left through some sort of dark portal, they had summoned grotesque creatures from within. They had hooves for feet and horns like the dreadlord did... Except these had no wings, and their bodies were covered in some kind of fur of varied tones. Their facial features also seemed to slightly resemble that of the night elves... But a twisted, vile version of them. "I trust you satyrs will keep anyone unwanted from drinking these waters." The giant four legged demon had said before passing through the portal, which closed up once his companion followed him.

'Move.' He could hear his master's voice in his head. 'You only stay still when you don't want to be noticed. Now is the time to get the hell out of there, boy.'

And so he did. Dalrus ran back to where Lyaera was waiting for him - the elf covering her mouth with both hands, her eyes very wide with fear. She was still laying down with her back against the stones, right where he had left her. "They are... Gone." Dalrus managed to speak. His throat hurt. "But we gotta get out of here, right now. Come on." He began to gather their belongings and unceremoniously shoved them into his pockets.

With his aid, Lyaera stood up once more. "What... What in the Mother Moon's name was that?" She whispered as Dalrus helped her up and began to guide her towards the deeper woods.

"Demons... Two of them." Dalrus answered as they were surrounded by the pleasant shade of the tall, thick trees. "They killed the furbolgs... And one of them spilled his blood over the fountain. It's tainted... Corrupted. I don't even want to know what would happen if someone drank that. I'm just glad they didn't notice us."

Lyaera was trembling against him. Dalrus had one arm around her waist, the other held her own arm over his shoulder to better support the tall elf. "Such... Foul... Tainted energy... I had never felt anything so... Twisted... Those were truly demons..." Her voice was trembling. "There's no more time, Dalrus. We must return to Tel'Drassil and inform the High Priestess of this."

Dalrus was already nodding. "Yeah, I agree. But we will think of that later. Right now, we need to get as far away from this damned place as possible. Come on." Together, the night elf ranger and the human rogue went deeper into the forest, trying to make as much distance between them and the horrors behind them as possible. Dalrus was aware they were moving towards the orc bases, but honestly, even the Warsong were a better alternative then what he had just borne witness to.

After a few minutes, Lyaera said: "Thank you... I can walk on my own now." Looking up, Dalrus saw her face was still twisted with worry, but at least she felt a bit more steady now.

"OK, but you still shouldn't be travelling around with a hole in your side. Let's see..." Dalrus took a quick sweeping look at their surroundings. There were tall, imposing trees as far as the eye could see, with the sun above completely hidden by their leaves and branches. Fortunately, Dalrus spotted what he was looking for quickly; a big, broken branch laying against a tree's roots. Carefully, he let go of Lyaera, then picked up the branch. It was quite long and felt sturdy in his grasp. He offered it to his elf companion. "Here, use this to walk. The lesser the burden on your side, the better.

Lyaera thanked him, then took the branch to use as a walking stick. Over the next two hours, Dalrus scouted ahead to make sure the path was clear as they continued to travel, Lyaera helping point them in the right direction. She said their first destination should be a shrine to Elune not too far in the west, where they would receive further aid from her kin. There, at least, they'd be able to travel safely to Tel'drasil and speak to the High Priestess, an elf by the name Tyrande Whisperwind. Sounded like a good plan. He was still uncertain if she was healthy enough to be travelling on her own like that... But time had run out. Who knew when and where those demons would show up again? And that thing they had said about the orcs? Dalrus had a very bad feeling about it all.

At least, so far, things were looking good to them. They hadn't run into any of the Warsong's scouts. Eventually, they reached a large river crossing. Dalrus knew on the other side, the orc camps were keeping watch. That could be a problem. He scratched his head in puzzlement, then decided to make his way back to where Lyaera would be waiting for him to return and inform her of what awaited them ahead.

He had taken about ten steps back under the cover of Ashenvale's woods when he heard that familiar whistle coming from his left.

Dalrus instantly ducked and rolled. The arrow flew past where his shoulder had been a second ago and buried itself in the ground next to him. With a quick glance to his side, Dalrus saw it was buried in an almost perfect 90 degree angle. That was all he needed to know where it had come from.

He made a furious sprint straight ahead, running towards a tree not too far away from him. Three more arrows hit the ground behind him, his sudden burst of speed clearly messing up with his assaulter's aim. Dalrus reached the tree, but didn't stop. His foot planted firmly against the trunk, and he kicked upwards with all his strength, managing to take three vertical steps before gravity began to affect him once more. At that moment, Dalrus kicked the tree once more with both feet, thus launching himself through the air in the general direction of his assailant.

Whoever this person was, they were good. They must not have been too phased by his agility, because a moment later he saw the glint of metal, and another arrow was flying towards his face. Airborne like he was, there was no way to dodge... But he didn't need to. He had already gauged precisely where the arrows were coming from, and now he had seen directly the moment another one was shot. His attacker was at the top of one of the trees, hidden behind it's leaves and shooting him from above.

Dalrus saw the arrow travel the space between the bow it had been shot from and his face in less than an instant, but still it was all the time he needed. As he was running up the tree earlier, he was already unholstering his swords, and had them both in hand. Their additional weight made it a bit harder - and he was somewhat out of practice, considering all he had done the past few days was hide and sneak around - so the arrow came just a little bit too close for his peace of mind before he shadowstepped behind his assailant, vanishing in the air and reappearing on top of the branch right before the archer attacking him.

Instinctively, Dalrus brought his weapons down against that person, and only too late did he realize it was a night elf archer like Lyaera. He caught the woman off guard, but at the last second he managed to shift the angle on his blades so instead of cleaving her in half, he ended up tackling her with his full body weight. With a loud grunt, they both fell from the tree. It took about two seconds for them to hit the ground, a time during which the elf desperately struggled to free herself from him by kicking and twisting herself. Dalrus was only too happy to break that physical contact, so when they finally hit the ground, he rolled away from her, weapons in hand once more and saying. "OK, hold up just a second!"

This elf wasn't much for conversation, however. With nimbleness to rival his own, she had also rolled away from him, another arrow immediately lodged into her bow and shooting at him as she got up to her knees on the ground. Dalrus barely managed to dodge by bending his back down, then leaping to the side to escape her second shot that came almost immediately after. "Time out! Time out!" Dalrus was shouting as he began to zig-zag and leap backwards to continue evading all her deadly bolts. Was she ever going to run out of ammunition?

It looked as if she was growing just as frustrated as he was, however. When she realized she wouldn't be able to hit him, the elf discarded her bow and pulled out two long, thin blades from her back. Without relenting, she ran towards him with her weapons raised.

"WILL YOU JUST CALM DOWN FOR A BLOODY SECOND, WOMAN!?" He screamed before losing his patience and shadowstepping once more. Dalrus planted his knees against her back and brought his weapons down around her neck, stopping just short as she collapsed under his weight against the ground. They ended up with the boy sitting on her back, his legs immobilizing her arms and his swords threatening to cut her head off. "I'm not an orc, OK? I'm not your enemy! I have one of your friends with me!"

The only response he got was another grunt. And then he heard it again. That bloody whistle, coming from behind him. Dalrus rolled to his side and stood up once more, only to have to resume his evasive maneuvers as more and more arrows, now from different directions, came at him. 'Oh, goody. She's not alone. I gotta get Lyaera.' He could see more elves emerging from the woods above and from the ground, two from his right side, and another one from his left. He had left Lyaera directly in front of where he was facing. Taking a deep breath, Dalrus summoned a cover of shadow energy that covered his whole body and immediately made him vanish from sight. Without hesitating, he placed his swords on his waist and ran straight ahead to where he knew Lyaera was waiting for him.

Not even five steps ahead, and for the first time since he was seven years old trying out his brand new boots, Dalrus tripped. It was so unexpected, he didn't even realize it until both his feet were already up in the air and the ground was racing to meet his face. Instinctively, he reached out with his hands to cushion the fall and try to turn it into a barrel roll. Even more unexpectedly, however, was that the moment his palms touched the grassy floor, it suddenly shifted under him like a serpent. He saw a thick, dirt-covered tree root spring from the earth and wrap around his wrists like a tentacle. It pulled him high up in the air, with his arms held above his head while he kicked and flailed, his stealth veil completely lost along with his focus. "What the hell!? Hey!"

Looking down, Dalrus realized it really was a tree root... And more than one. Several vines were wrapping around each other to make one thick tendril that immobilized his hands as efficiently as iron bindings. Looking back up, Dalrus saw the elves approach him, bows and arrows all aimed straight at him. They said something to each other in elvish, eyes never leaving his face. "Hey! Would you please just put me down? I'm telling you, I'm not your-"

"SISTERS, STOP!" He heard Lyaera's voice from behind him. Twisting himself to look over his shoulder, Dalrus saw her panting and leaning over her walking stick. Her face was drenched in sweat, and one hand was hugging her side. It looked as if she had forced herself to run, and her wound had opened up again. "He is not our enemy! Please, lower your arrows!"

He saw shock over the elves' faces. Now that he had a better look, there were four in total, all female, all wearing the same light leather armor and cloak that Lyaera wore. They did not lower their weapons, however. "What did you do to her, fiend?" One of them finally said.

"He's done nothing but aid me! He is not like these brute greenskins who defile our forest! I beg you, stay your hands! He is to be trusted!" Lyaera was clearly struggling to get her words out, then suddenly she coughed and covered her mouth, a small spray of blood covering her fist.

"Hey! She's injured! Kill me later, but go help her!" Dalrus shouted, looking back at the archers whose arrows were all aimed straight at his heart. He saw them scowl, exchange looks again, then quickly hush a few more things in their native tongue before two of them carefully lowered their weapons and rushed to Lyaera's side.

The tension was high there, and Dalrus' wrists were already starting to hurt. He didn't dare to try and escape, given the situation. One wrong move and Lyaera could be hurt even more. He saw them lay the elf down and uncover her wound. Then two of them knelt by her side and pulled out a bag with what Dalrus supposed were medical supplies, which they began to apply to Lyaera's wound. After a couple minutes, there was a fresh bandage over her torso, and she had stopped coughing blood, which was a relief, at least. "Hey! How is she?" Dalrus asked, struggling to watch them over his shoulder. His questions were ignored.

Finally, the two elves helped Lyaera stand up, then carried her over to where the other two were pointing their arrows at Dalrus. They began to speak in elvish, but Lyaera, at least, was still only speaking the common tongue. "No, it was completely destroyed by the invaders... My life was spared thanks only to him. He mended my wounds and helped me hide... He brought me here so we could inform the priestess of what is going on." Some more chatter from the elves, whom Dalrus suspected were speaking in their own native tongue just to spite him. "He says he is a human. But that's not important. I promise you, he is not our enemy. There are far more pressing matters right now... I have urgent news! Please, you must warn Cenarius of this!"

Now there was a name he had heard earlier. "Hey." Dalrus said, and for once, the elves actually snapped their attention to him. "Who is this Cenarius anyway?"

One of the elves' lifted her arrow to aim at Dalrus' face. "You do not utter Cenarius' name, defiler!"

The young rogue had already opened his mouth to reply when what was possibly the heaviest, the most imposing and the most majestic voice he had ever heard in his entire life said behind him: "Enough. Lower your weapons."

All the elves immediately obeyed, then dropped to their knees - Lyaera included. The vines squeezing Dalrus' wrists slowly turned him around until he was facing the one who had spoken.

The creature before him was a singular one. Like the demon from earlier, this one too possessed four animal legs and the torso of a man. This one, however, had the lower half of a majestic brown stag, with three long tree leaves covering his back like a mantle. From the waist up, his body was that of a male night elf, but with a few differences. First, his left hand looked like it was made out of wood, like a huge claw composed of roots. His hair was long and fell over his shoulders and back, but all over it were little vines and leaves, and from either side of his head, massive antlers were sticking out, it's pointy ends sprawling in all directions like tree roots (he was beginning to see a pattern here). His face was smooth and devoid of hair... But it had a fierce look to it. A look of immeasurable wisdom and experience. His golden, gleamy eyes were fixated on Dalrus'. He simply stood there, staring at the human whose wrists were really starting to hurt as if examining him.

The most sensitive thing about this creature, however... He irradiated power, like the rays from the sun. This wasn't the same as the power he had felt from Thrall, however. Dalrus could feel this wasn't like the wild spirits that roamed the land and its elements... It was more like this was the land itself.

From this being, Dalrus sensed life. That was the best way he could put it. It was what he felt when gazing at a meadow. Gazing at every verdant tree, every lively critter, every flower in the ground. The power of life itself emanated from him so intensely, Dalrus even felt the air was purer and he could breathe better close to this... Divine looking entity.

Unable to help himself, Dalrus eventually said: "So... You must be Cenarius."

He saw the... Whatever he was' eyes squint just a fraction. "Yes. I am Cenarius, guardian of this land. I have been watching over you, and the other invaders. Watched as you desecrated this forest and slaughtered the keepers of this sacred place."

Dalrus blinked. "OK, back up for a second, buddy. I never desecrated anything."

One of Cenarius' mighty stag legs stomped the ground furiously. "You dare try to lie to me, mortal? I know you came to this forest with those demonspawns. And I can sense the corruption in you. It hangs around you, like a cloud, twisting and poisoning all it touches!"

Dalrus felt an icy grip in his heart. He knows your secret, little one... "OK, now this is just a big misunderstanding. I only came with the orcs in the literal sense, alright? I was hiding amongst their stuff, but I'm not friends with them, in any way. In fact, I'm also their enemy! We should be helping each other bring them down! So how about you loosen these roots for me, eh?"

He could tell Cenarius was not amused. The scowl continued to be just as severe and fierce. "I should allow the earth to swallow you whole, never to be seen again, and put an end to your vile presence. The only reason you still draw breath is because you have chosen to aid one of our own, in her time of dire need. But I will no longer tolerate your presence in this forest. Begone, and never return to this place!" And much to his relief, Dalrus felt the vines release his wrist, causing him to fall heavily to the ground below.

"Now, wait just a moment-" Dalrus began to say as he got up, but then he had four arrowtips poking his neck from each side. He froze, but didn't stop speaking. "What about Lyaera? What are you going to do to her?"

Cenarius gleaming golden eyes seemed to almost soften for a moment, but that heavy expression did not change. "She will be returned to her people, and taken care of. I will not forget that you saved her life, mortal. And that is why I too am sparing yours. I don't know what your intentions are, but you cannot hide the darkness that encroaches your very soul. I will not allow such evil to remain in Ashenvale. Now, begone. I will allow you to leave unharmed so long as you do not interfere with the forest. And now..." Cenarius slowly turned around, his gaze shifting to where Dalrus knew one of the orc encampments were. "I shall cleanse these lands from those wretched invaders!"

Dalrus had no choice but to watch from where he lay on the ground as the elves helped carry Lyaera, who was now unconscious, away with them. Unable to stop himself, Dalrus suddenly got up and screamed: "The demons are back! The Burning Legion... They did something to a fountain, and they have plans for the orcs!"

Cenarius stopped, as did the elves. Slowly, the demigod looked down back at the tiny human from over his shoulder. "I have driven back the Burning Legion before, human. And I shall do so again." And with that, Dalrus could only watch helplessly as they walked away as a terrible premonition twisted deep within his gut.

'This is bad... Oh, this is gonna end so bad...' He thought to himself, getting up and slapping the twigs and the leaves off his leather clothes and trousers.

Now you shall see... Even Gods fall, little one.

'I have a name, you know.'

Cenarius is a fool who thinks himself invincible after ten thousand years of peace. His pride shall be his downfall. You need only watch...

And for once in his life... Dalrus actually agreed. He couldn't just go back; he had to see what was going to happen next. How would Cenarius drive back the orcs?

Making sure to cover himself in his stealth once more, Dalrus began to carefully follow the path the demigod and his archers had just treaded. Considering the ground didn't come back to life and attempted to kill him this time, he assumed this wasn't against Cenarius' will. Slow and steady, Dalrus made his way back to the riverside, from where he could see the orc bases once more.

What he saw left him speechless.

The orcs were doing battle with what looked like the trees themselves... These, however, were not like the ancients who were in the elf bases the orcs raided. Dalrus watched as the very wood the orcs had been swinging their axes against for days suddenly sprouted arms and uplifted themselves from the ground to attack their butchers. Not just that, but what looked like an entire legion of elves were assaulting the orcs as well. From above, he could see archers mounted on those bird-horse creatures - Lyaera had told him they were called hippogryphs - and from the ground, hundreds of rangers and huntresses mounting those gigantic black felines - called nightsabers, according to Lyaera - as well as their wooden ballistae and glaive throwers. And up above in a tall hill, Dalrus saw Cenarius himself watching over the battlefield with his arms raised.

Looking up, the young rogue watched as the very sky began to shift to a shade of green, and a slick emerald rain began to fall. He wasn't sure what its effects were, but eventually he noticed the elven forces who fought under the rain had greater vigor and resilience than the rest of their troops.

Spiky thorns arose from the ground and lashed at the orcs. More trees came to life and joined the fray. The Warsong put up a valiant fight, but it didn't take long for this base to be completely decimated. From his vantage point, the human boy watched as Cenarius' forces regrouped and proceeded to move for the next orc base, like a green and violet tide, sweeping them off this land. It really looked like this would be a very one-sided battle for the elves. After all, not only did they manage to reorganize their numbers, but they also had the full might of a deity at their side.

So why was it that Dalrus couldn't rid himself of that terrible doubt squeezing his guts with an icy grip?