Thank you to everyone who read the last chapter, I was absolutely floored by the amount of wonderful feedback I got and I hope you all enjoy this chapter just as much!
Genn
At first, Genn thought it was Sylvanas who screamed. The sound rang with such agony and raw fury that he was certain it must have come from the lips of a banshee, until he saw a blinding flash of white light illuminate the centre of the arena, and a slender human figure stepped forth.
Auriana.
He had seen glimpses of her throughout the fight with the nerubians, ravaging the spider lords with her extraordinary powers. She had never remained in one place for long, blinking here and there and tearing the creatures apart with a bloodthirsty, rapacious glee. She had not been amongst the Alliance when the arrows started flying, however, though she must have been close enough to see Varian fall.
Genn knew all too well the pain and helplessness of seeing a loved one shot, but he did not have time to comfort Auriana; turning instead to the dark figure sprawled on the icy ground about fifty feet to his left.
"Varian!"
He dropped to all fours and sprinted to Varian's side as fast as his powerful worgen's body would allow, before sliding to his knees next to the younger king's unconscious body. Varian had been wearing armour, of course, though whoever had fired upon him had used heavy, rune-etched bolts designed to pierce even the strongest plate. Dark, sticky blood stained the otherwise pristine white snow beneath his back, and he lay so unnaturally still that Genn immediately feared the worst.
Genn's heartbeat thundered in his ears as he pushed aside the matted fur lining of Varian's armour and frantically sought a pulse. The heavy plate made it difficult to tell whether his chest was still moving, and nor could Genn hear the rattle of his breath over the whipping wind. Unfortunately, his worgen's guise was rather ill-suited for the task, large and bestial as he was, but he didn't dare shift back to his human form, not when someone out there was hunting Alliance kings.
His paw met cool flesh. Nothing.
Genn let out a low, anxious whine, and pressed down harder into the side of Varian's neck, fighting back a rising sense of panic as warm blood sluiced over his fumbling claws.
Still nothing.
Varian's face briefly blurred into that of another brave young man who had fallen to a deadly arrow, and Genn suddenly found it hard to breathe.
He is not Liam, he reminded himself sternly. You couldn't save Liam, but you can save him.
Genn shook his head, banishing his darkest thoughts to the back of his mind and forcing his hands to still. In reality, perhaps only a half a minute had passed since he had run to Varian's side, but every second he failed to find a pulse felt like an eternity.
Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
A faint burning sensation pricked at the back of Genn's eyes as his despair mounted, and he was poised to reluctantly accept defeat when he felt a faint thrum against his toepads. He pressed harder again, praying that the weak and thready beat was not simply the product of his desperate imagination, and let out a shaking sigh of relief when he felt a second pulse, then a third, and then a fourth...
Once satisfied that Varian was, in fact, still alive, Genn turned his attention to inspecting the severity of wounds. While the damage to Varian's leg and shoulder were not inconsiderable, the worst of it was confined to his chest. Using his worgen's strength, Genn tore apart the leather straps holding Varian's cuirass, and very carefully slid the damaged armour off over the length of the arrow shaft so that he might get a better look.
"Damn it..." he swore.
The bolt had thankfully missed Varian's heart, but that was about the only positive that could be gleaned from the situation. Genn immediately pressed his hands down over the wound in an effort to staunch the bleeding, though he did not dare to pull the arrow free lest he make things worse. He was neither a priest nor a harvest-witch, but he knew at least that much.
"Help! I need a healer!" he hollered, never taking his eyes off Varian's chest. "King Varian is hurt!"
He had seen injuries like this before, and it rarely ended well. Varian was an exceptionally strong man, it was true, but there was a limit to even his legendary toughness. Still, there was little Genn could do aside from maintaining pressure while he waited for a proper healer to come to his aid, and so he sat back slightly and took a moment to take stock of the wider situation.
All of the nerubians in the immediate vicinity had been killed, though Genn could still hear the sounds of fighting off in the far distance. The Alliance and the Horde had instinctively formed a perimeter around the arena in order to cover the civilians fleeing for the Dalaran portal, with the Alliance clustered around the eastern side of the field and the Horde in the west. Jaina and Kalecgos still flanked the portal, though for some reason, their attention had been drawn to the Horde side of the arena.
Curiously enough, Auriana had not come to join Genn at Varian's side. Instead, she too was fixated on the Horde, clenching and unclenching her fists as she strode forth alone across the icy ground. The air around her shimmered, and with every step the magical incandescence surrounding her slender form grew brighter. She was also visibly shaking, and Genn abruptly realised that she had not screamed in pain or grief, but rather in hot, seething anger; an anger that was now squarely directed at the Horde.
Had they really attempted to assassinate Varian? Genn hadn't seen the arrows fire, preoccupied as he had been with fighting the nerubians, though Auriana certainly seemed to have some reason to consider them responsible. It was, of course, a possibility Genn had considered when Vol'jin had first put forward the idea of a peaceful Tournament, but even he couldn't quite believe they would attack Varian so brazenly. And that didn't even begin to explain the nerubians...
"Warchief!"
Auriana's voice cracked through the air like thunder, ripping Genn from his racing thoughts. Her voice was deep and menacing, and the amount of latent threat contained within that single word made the hackles rise along Genn's. He had never seen Auriana in a true rage before, though Varian had once attempted to describe it to him. He had watched her test the limits of her control against both Varian and Jaina, but witnessing a sparring session in the safety of the Stormwind arena was nothing by comparison. Her entire body fairly thrummed with energy, warping and distorting the air around her, and even at a distance, her desire for bloodshed was palpable.
"WARCHIEF!"
Auriana's mighty bellow echoed off the mountainside, summoning forth a beaten and reluctant Vol'jin, along with a number of his closest allies. First among them was Thrall, barely conscious and dragging his right leg behind him as he was borne forth by a bruised Varok Saurfang. Baine Bloodhoof was cradling a clearly broken arm, and it looked like one of the nerubians had attempted to take a chunk out of Nathanos Blightcaller. A pity the creature had missed. Lor'themar Theron was also limping, and his silver-white beard was stained with blood from a nasty cut to his mouth. Even Sylvanas - Genn's heart seized in his chest, as it always did when he saw her - seemed uncharacteristically dishevelled, while Jastor Gallywix and Ji Firepaw were nowhere to be seen.
"Betrayer!" Auriana hissed, her gaze fixed upon Vol'jin with a razor sharp intensity.
The Warchief's eyes were wide, and even at this distance Genn could see an unusual pallor to his usually vibrant blue skin. Whatever was happening here, he appeared just as bewildered by the sudden turn of events as anyone on the Alliance side. It could all be an act, of course, but Genn trusted his instincts, and he was inclined to believe that Vol'jin, at the very least, had been caught completely off guard by the attempt on Varian's life.
An attempt that may very well prove to be successful, Genn thought darkly. Where the hell is that healer? He redadjusted the position of his paws on Varian's chest.
"Auriana, ya got ta listen ta me," Vol'jin murmured, raising his hands in a gesture of adjuration and speaking in the slow, even tone one might use on a wild animal. "Dis wasn't us. I swear ta ya on all da loa, it wasn't us."
The Warchief was no fool - he realised that Auriana was teetering on the edge of control, and that if she slipped, even for a second, it would mean his death. Genn knew she had struggled and fought for years to master her fury, and he wagered it was only those years of hard training that had kept her from unravelling completely the moment she had seen Varian fall.
"Liar!" she screamed. "All of it, lies!"
Auriana reached out a trembling hand - though not towards Vol'jin, but rather towards the towering cliff face on the southern side of the arena. Her fingers clawed into a fist, and with a savage grunt, she simply tore a huge chunk of ice and rock free from the mountainside with a hair-raising crack. The boulder flew through the air with terrifying speed and slammed into the ground in front of Vol'jin, spraying him with snow and pieces of rocky debris. To his credit, the Warchief did not flinch, his expression wavering for only the briefest second as he beheld the broken, bleeding bodies of four orcs, and in the middle of them all, a tattered Horde banner.
"You would deny me the evidence of my own eyes?!" Auriana roared.
Vol'jin went very still, and a wave of muttering broke out amongst his Horde allies. Genn narrowed his eyes, and a faint growl escaped his clenched muzzle.
"No… no… we been set up. We all have. Da bombing, da nerubians… dis… dis was all an attempt ta provoke a war. Ta…" Vol'jin's gaze flicked briefly to Varian, and a sort of horrified realisation washed over his angular features. "Ta provoke you."
For his part, Genn wasn't sure what to believe. It was certainly not outside the realm of possibility that the Horde had arranged this whole thing in order to slay Varian and reignite the faction conflict. On the other hand, it seemed a little too convenient that the four orcs attempting to assassin Varian happened to be carrying an enormous banner visibly identifying themselves as Horde. Vol'jin's surprise appeared to be genuine, and there was merit to the theory that this had all been set up to provoke Auriana's rage. She was clearly hovering on the edge of reason, and the sight of the Horde banner served not to arouse her rational suspicion, but only to stoke the flames of her fury.
"Stop lying!"
"Auriana… Auri… come on, mon, ya know me," Vol'jin insisted. "Ya know I would never use da Horde like dis. I brought ya here in peace, I swear ta ya."
His voice remained quiet and steady, but the tension in the air was practically choking. Everyone - Alliance and Horde both - stood unnaturally still, as if the slightest movement would shatter the entire world, and even Genn had to remind himself to breathe.
"I trusted you! I wanted to believe… that this…" Auriana waved a hand towards the main arena. "That this was real. I fought for this! I convinced Varian, I…"
Auriana trailed off, her voice cracking with visceral rage and grief. She made a strange jerking motion with her head, and pressed the base of her palm into her left temple as if the effort of controlling herself was causing her physical pain. She was trying, Genn could see, fighting back against her most primal instincts, but with each passing second she slipped further into the churning abyss of her anger.
"Varian…"
"I would never take him from ya," Vol'jin murmured. "I'd never cross dat line."
Auriana glanced back over her shoulder towards Varian's prone, arrow-ridden body, and even from afar, Genn could see the fresh tear tracks on her pale cheeks. For a moment, he saw a flash of a vulnerable, terrified woman… then her expression hardened, and she became an inhuman force of nature once more.
"The Horde must end," she said firmly. She turned back to Vol'jin. "We give you chance after chance to be better, to prove yourselves to be more than your bloodlust. But you never learn."
As she spoke, the frozen air around her began to swirl and crystallize into viciously pointed spikes of ice that were as long as a man was tall; one for each leader of the Horde. The message was clear: Auriana intended to be judge, jury, and executioner, and with her mind made up, there wasn't anything any of them could do to stop her… though apparently Nathanos Blightcaller intended to try.
While Auriana and Vol'jin had been arguing, he had slyly nocked an arrow to his bow. Genn hadn't immeriately noticed, torn as he was between watching the intense interplay between Auriana and the Horde and trying to maintain pressure on Varian's wounds, until Blightcaller abruptly lunged forward with his blood red eyes trained firmly on Auriana.
"Nathanos, don't be a fool!" Sylvanas hissed, showing good sense for perhaps the first time in her afterlife, but it was too late.
The Ranger Lord loosed, and a deadly black arrow arced through the air towards Auriana. Even at a distance, Genn could see the telltale swirl of shadow magic around the arrow's head, and a spark of anger flared in his chest. Traitor. Tipped arrows were expressly forbidden by Tournament rules, and there was no way Blightcaller had acquired such a weapon from the Argents. Somehow he and the Banshee witch - Genn doubted Blightcaller let out a single breath without informing Sylvanas of the fact - had managed to sneak their deadly arrows onto the grounds without alerting the security forces, though for what true purpose, Genn couldn't say.
It was hardly the time to focus on Forsaken treachery, however, not when the entire future of Azeroth was balanced on the edge of a knife. Genn instinctively shouted a warning and reached out a futile hand as the arrow flew straight for Auriana's chest, but as it turned out, he needn't have bothered. The deadly missile abruptly stopped in mid-air as it collided with an invisible wall of power about three feet away from its target, before tumbling lifelessly to the snowy ground.
The entire world inhaled, waiting for the inevitable explosion… but curiously, none came. Auriana's burning attention remained firmly fixed on Vol'jin, and she gave Nathanos as much consideration as she would have given a pesky fly.
"Dumb mutt," she snarled, and with a casual, almost dismissive wave of her hand, she sent him flying.
Blightcaller cartwheeled comically through the air, his mouth flopping open in an expression of gormless surprise, before slamming into a chunk of nearby debris with a force that made even Genn wince. He heard the distinctive crack of shattering bone, and he vaguely wondered whether the Forsaken could still feel the pain of physical injury. If so, Blightcaller must have been in agony… and indeed, he twitched only once before he lay still.
"Is that the best you can muster?!" Auriana scoffed. "Is this how the vaunted Horde fights?"
No one else dared move. No matter what one might have said about the Horde - and Genn had said plenty - they were not stupid. Anyone with half a mind could see that Auriana was all but leaking power, and her little demonstration with Blightcaller only proved that she was aching for an excuse to use it. Vol'jin had also clearly set the expectation that he would prefer to defuse the situation, rather than escalate it, and for now, at least, the Horde appeared willing to follow his lead.
Out of all of them, Genn figured that Thrall would have had the best chance against her, given the strength of his shamanic powers, but he was so beaten and bloody that he could barely stand. Auriana had already proven that she could defeat Vol'jin in single combat, and that was before she had absorbed the excess power from the dampening field. Saurfang, Baine, and Lor'themar all had a reputation as talented fighters, the former in particular, but in an open field Auriana would have them dead before they even closed half the distance. Sylvanas might have had a shot, both literally and figuratively speaking, but Blightcaller had already proven that arrows were of little use against Auriana's potent magical defenses. Her banshee's scream would have undoubtedly been effective up close, though Genn doubted Auriana would ever let her in range.
"No one is fightin' anyone," Vol'jin said hurriedly, in an increasingly futile attempt to salvage the situation. "Blightcaller mighta panicked, but everyone else is… is calm. We can talk about dis, just… just put ya hands down, and we can all walk away, eh?"
He had most certainly made his own calculations as to the odds of the Horde's survival, given how easily Auriana had dealt with the treacherous Blightcaller, and had come to much the same conclusion as Genn himself. Even if the Horde could defeat her, there was no chance they could do so before she inflicted some serious damage upon their ranks, and there was a note of quiet resignation in the Warchief's voice even as he tried one last time to talk her down.
"Auriana. Please."
"It's too late. There is nothing you can say. The Horde ends now."
Auriana gathered herself, and her entire body trembled as she raised her right hand with an air of terrifying finality. The Horde tensed as one, ready to defend themselves from the inevitable onslaught as best they could, and -
"Enough!"
Jaina Proudmoore's voice abruptly rang out across the field, sounding unnaturally loud in the tense silence. Auriana's spell wavered, and with a bristling, predatory slowness, she turned her head towards the new threat.
"Jaina?" she demanded, her lip curling in an ugly scowl.
"I can't imagine how much hurt and anger you must be feeling right now," Jaina said soothingly, "And I can see you're fighting it, too. You don't have to do this. Vol'jin is right, we can all walk away."
Much like the Warchief, she kept her movements slow and careful as she walked forward across the snowy ground, though her hands were balled into fists, and there was a determined set to her posture that did not go unnoticed by Auriana.
"You would stand against me?" she snarled, her tone ringing with disbelief. "You hate the Horde as much as anyone!"
"No. I… I don't." Jaina's own words seemed to surprise her. "I don't want to. I…
She glanced towards the Horde leaders, her gaze drawn to Thrall in particular. The muscles along the line of her jaw visibly tightened as the wounded shaman lifted his head to meet her eyes, and she let out a long, shaky sigh.
"Whatever I may think of the Horde, this isn't right," she said softly. "We aren't at war, Auri; what you're contemplating is murder, and you are not a murderer. I know you'd never forgive yourself if you did this."
Auriana grimaced, and she took a step back from Jaina as if the other woman's words had physically hurt her.
"You're defending them? You? How many chances have you given them? How many times have you gambled on the Horde's 'better nature' and lost?"
There was a biting truth to her words, and one that Jaina could not deny. Nor, it seemed, could Vol'jin. Out of the corner of his eye, Genn watched as the Warchief's tusks dipped in dismay for the briefest of seconds, in a somewhat surprising gesture of remorse. He was not alone, either - both Thrall and Saurfang shifted uncomfortably beneath the weight of Auriana's accusation, and Baine's ears drooped. Sylvanas, meanwhile, remained the picture of haughty indifference; never contrite, never humble, never sorry.
A snarl rose in Genn's throat, unbidden.
"Auri, you're not yourself," Jaina continued, neatly sidestepping the question. "You have far too much magic in your system; you're angry... you're in pain…"
"And why do you think that is?! The Horde took my family from me, and now they've taken him." Her voice broke. "I have nothing, and it's all their fault."
"Taken him?"
Jaina looked to Genn; a silent question in her crystal eyes. He nodded once in answer, and Jaina let out a gasp of relief. She didn't love Varian in the way that Auriana loved him, but she cared for him deeply all the same.
"Varian's not dead, I promise you. Just look…"
Auriana shook her head, lifting a hand to tap a rapid staccato upon her left temple as her lucidity waned once more. Sylvanas stepped forward, as if to intervene, but Vol'jin stilled her with a short shake of his head. The message was clear: do not make things worse. Surprisingly, Sylvanas obeyed.
"It doesn't matter," Auriana muttered. "If I don't stop them now, they'll try again tomorrow, or the day after. They will never stop until they take him from me."
Jaina closed her eyes, and let out a slow, resigned sigh. She was in an impossible position, forced to choose between fighting a friend, or allowing that friend to commit a massacre.
"Auri, I'm sorry, but I can't let you do this. I -" She glanced sideways at Kalec, who had silently come forth to stand by her side. "We will stop you. By force, if necessary."
Anyone else might have been intimidated. After all, Jaina was the Archmage of the Kirin Tor, and Kalec had once wielded the power of an Aspect, but Auriana was far too gone to care. The two mages were now nothing more than obstacles between her and her goal, and it seemed she was more than willing to go through them to get to the Horde.
Her eyes flared.
"So be it," she said simply.
Auriana made no visible gesture, but the enormous icicles at her back rotated slowly in the air so that they were no longer aimed at the Horde, but rather at Jaina and Kalec.
"Don't make me do this. I don't want to fight you," Jaina insisted, her voice deepening with emotion even as her fingers glittered with frost. "You have to know you can't defeat us alone."
Auriana tilted her head to one side, and the single most disturbing smile Genn had ever seen spread across her face. It was far too wide for her delicate features, and there was something distinctly feral gleaming in the depths of her eyes. Whatever measure of control she had possessed had been exhausted. She wanted to fight.
"But I'm not alone..."
The air around Auriana shimmered, and a pinprick of vibrant purple light appeared behind her left shoulder. It was followed a moment later by a tiny red flame, and then a third spark of blue-white frost a moment after that. Fine, filigree lines of magic fire began to radiate out from each point; burning through the air with increasing speed until they finally connected and resolved into three enormous, blazing wolves.
Genn didn't know enough about magic to truly judge the skill and effort that had gone into weaving such a spell, but Jaina certainly seemed impressed. She balked, her eyes widening, and almost immediately began to mutter a counterspell. Illusory or not, there was a real gravity to the way the constructs prowled forward across the snow, and even if they couldn't really 'bite', the magical energy radiating from each shimmering form was surely scalding.
Without the slightest bit of hesitation, Auriana flicked her wrist and sent all three constructs snapping after Jaina; forcing the Archmage into a flat-out run even while she worked to unravel the complex spellcraft holding the massive magical beasts together. At the same time, Auriana launched all of her glacial spikes at Kalec in rapidfire succession. Fortunately, he had been expecting the spell, and with a complex twist of his fingers, raised a four-foot thick ice barrier in his defense. The spikes shattered into a million pieces against the wall, but Auriana was not deterred. If anything, Kalec's dignified defiance seemed to spur something within her, and within seconds the all three mages were embroiled in perhaps one of the most intense magical duels Azeroth had ever seen.
Despite the dire circumstances, Genn could not help to be impressed. Jaina, Kalec and Auriana were powerhouses in their own right, but taken all together, they were dazzling. Frankly, he hadn't known Jaina could move that fast, let alone while defending herself against an endless onslaught from a trio of fifteen foot high magical wolves. Never one to be caught off guard for long, she had quickly summoned two enormous arcane shields on either side of her body, and with every step she took, they rotated around to provide maximum protection from the pursuing constructs. Indeed, she looked almost like a dancer as she twisted and turned her way across the icy field; her long fingers glistening with power and her shields sending up sprays of sizzling sparks wherever they met the yawning jaws of a wolf.
For his part, Kalec was the very picture of controlled, ancient power. He lacked Jaina's elegant dynamism, but instead held himself with a stately grace that oddly reminded Genn of a finest Gilnean courtier - albeit a courtier who could bend the very fabric of reality to his will. He never moved more than was strictly necessary, and his cool expression never wavered even as he deflected and unravelled nearly every spell Auriana threw at him.
And then there was Auriana herself. In all his years, Genn had never seen someone throw themselves into a fight with such gleeful aggression. She wove magic faster than he would have thought humanly possible, hurling spell after spell at Kalec even as she maintained a relentless pressure against Jaina with her conjured wolves. She was also an extremely physical fighter, especially for a mage, and Genn could see hints of Varian in the way she moved and pressed her attacks.
Occasionally, one of Auriana's spells would go wild, arcing clear over Jaina and Kalec's heads to smack into the mountainside on the southern end of the arena. Genn couldn't imagine she was thinking all that clearly, given her current state, and he supposed that a few wayward spells were to be expected. Still, it was a phenomenal display of physical and mental effort, and she showed no signs of tiring.
If anything, Auriana actually seemed to be gaining energy as she fought. Despite the skill of their defense and the fact that they outnumbered Auriana two to one, Jaina and Kalec were forced to fall back into the far corners of the arena beneath the fury of her assault. They were, admittedly, working at a disadvantage, given that their intent was clearly just to stop Auriana, while in her rage she was apparently more than willing to kill. Whatever power she had gained from disabling the dampening field had also given her a significant edge, and slowly but surely she began to gain the upper hand.
Genn was so caught up in the dramatics of the fight that he failed to notice much else of what was going on around him. He just about jumped out of his fur as he felt a sudden, gentle touch on his shoulder, and he glanced up to see a young, wide-eyed night elf druid looming over him. A bloody cut split the skin of her left cheek, and her silver-white hair was stained with blood and dirt. She looked, frankly, terrified, but while Genn had admittedly been hoping for someone like Velen, at this stage he would take just about anyone with an ounce of healing ability.
"I am sorry I took so long, Your Majesty, there are still nerubians rampaging through the camp, and they proved rather difficult to evade."
The night elf glanced worriedly over her shoulder.
"I don't know if anyone else is coming, either," she added. "There are so many people wounded, and our forces are stretched thin…"
"Well, you'll have to be enough," Genn said gruffly. "I don't think he has much time."
He shuffled over to allow the druid room to kneel at Varian's side, keeping pressure on the younger man's chest the entire while. Despite her evident youth and her obvious fear, she took Genn's words to heart, and she quickly went to work on Varian's wounds. Soothing green magic swirled around her dark fingers as she slid the offending arrow free from his chest in a single, smooth movement; the immense power of nature knitting torn flesh and frayed sinew in its wake.
That was not to say the druid's task was easy. Sweat beaded on her brow, even despite the nip in the air, and her hands began to shake with the effort of closing such a terrible wound. She nevertheless persisted, even as her stately features contorted into a painful rictus and her long ears twitched, and after a few minutes of momentous effort, Varian's eyes finally fluttered open.
"Varian!" Genn exclaimed, warm relief flooding through his chest.
"Genn…" Varian groaned, blinking dazedly as his eyes readjusted to the light. "Is that… is that you?"
His voice was hoarse and raspy, and barely audible over the sound of the wind and fighting mages.
"I'm here," Genn confirmed. "Lie back, you've lost a lot of blood."
It was a strange thing to see such a normally hale and hearty man so weak, and Genn didn't like it one bit. Varian was a fighter, a warrior, and seeing him lying pale and fragile on the ground felt profoundly wrong.
"W-hat happened? I was fighting, and then… nothing..."
Varian struggled to raise his head, clawing at Genn's fur with trembling fingers.
"Varian, please," Genn insisted, gently holding him down. "You were shot. For a moment there… well, I thought we'd lost you."
He exchanged a worried glance with the druid, who had swiftly moved around to the other side of Varian's body to tend to the wounds in his thigh and his shoulder.
"You need to stay still," he reiterated. "Let the healer work."
"Somebody… somebody shot me?"
Varian trailed off, and his head lolled limply to one side. For a moment, Genn feared that he had once again drifted into unconsciousness, until he felt the younger man's body tense beneath his steadying paw. His gaze had been drawn to the arena, where Auriana, Jaina and Kalec were still locked in their spectacular duel.
"Auri…"
Varian instinctively struggled towards her, weakly extending a blood-soaked hand.
"Why… why is she fighting… J-Jaina?"
"She saw you fall," Genn summarised quickly, still maintaining a firm pressure on Varian's chest. "She went berserk… she believes the Horde were responsible. Jaina intervened before she could do any real harm."
"I remember. There was a banner… I saw it just before… I collapsed…" Varian let out a low moan, and once again made a feeble attempt to sit upright. "I have… to get… to her…"
"Get to her?" Genn repeated incredulously. "You're not going anywhere like this, old friend. Besides, Jaina isn't alone - Kalec is fighting with her; I'm sure between the two of them they can contain Auriana."
He spoke the words earnestly enough, hoping to keep Varian calm, though he wasn't quite sure he believed them himself.
"No," Varian murmured, with a short shake of his head. "You don't understand. If she thinks they hurt me… she'll kill them all. Jaina and Kalec won't be enough."
He was struggling to collect his thoughts, addled by pain and blood loss, but there remained a fierce and determined glint to his eye.
"I know her, Genn. I know her better than anyone. She's too powerful to stop, and she'll only listen… t-to me…"
Genn opened his mouth to reply, only to be cut off by a sudden shout of pain from the arena. His head snapped around, looking for the source of the sound - and saw that in the time he had been speaking to Varian, Auriana had somehow gained the upper hand. Their positions were now split: Jaina pinned down by the wolves in the far south-east corner of the arena, and Kalec in the far west. Kalec, notably, had been forced to his knees, blood spilling from a nasty gash to his forehead as he struggled to regain his feet.
Taking immediate advantage of Kalec's incapacity, Auriana advanced on Jaina with lethal intent. As she walked, she whipped her right arm through the air towards the mountainside, calling to life a massive, eighty-foot long illusory chain with links as thick around as Genn's thigh and a wickedly sharp, curving blade at one end. The blade slammed into the icy wall and held fast, digging deep into the rock with all the weight of a tangible weapon. A second chain exploded from Auriana's left hand a moment later, burrowing into the mountain wall about fifty horizontal feet away from the first. Almost immediately, arcane fire began to blaze along the wall between the two impact points, and with a horrible sinking feeling, Genn realised that Auriana's earlier spell inaccuracy had not, in fact, been inaccuracy at all.
She had been weakening the mountain - and Jaina had been shepherded right into her trap.
They had all of them - Genn included - assumed that Auriana had been far too consumed by her anger to fight with any real strategy or intelligence. But now that he looked again, he saw a perfect line of cracks extending across the mountain's façade; cracks that were rapidly becoming a deep fissure as Auriana's powerful magic burned deep into the rock. Her lip curled in satisfaction as the spell reached its zenith, and with a savage scream, she ripped the ethereal chains free.
If Genn had been impressed by the small chunk of rock Auriana had torn from the mountain wall during her confrontation with Vol'jin, it was nothing compared to how he felt now. He watched in slack-jawed horror as a massive slab of stone and ice about a hundred feet long and ten feet deep calved off the side of the mountain, and came crashing down towards Jaina in a terrifying avalanche.
Much to Jaina's credit, she did not lose her head; immediately rotating her arcane shields upwards to catch the falling debris. To Genn's eyes, however, her magic seemed impossibly flimsy against what had to have amounted to a few hundred tonnes of rock - and he was apparently not the only one who thought so.
"Jaina!"
At the exact same moment, Kalec roared her name and threw himself forward. His leap carried him far further than Genn would have thought humanly possible - though of course, Kalec was not human. His outline shivered, and a half-second later, his entire body seemed to explode outward as he resumed his true draconic form. Skin became glistening scales, arms extended into mighty wings, and his anguished cry deepened to a deafening bellow as he lunged to defend his love.
Kalec brought his right wing up and over as he half-leapt, half-flew past Auriana to get to Jaina, sweeping it over her like a shroud. His serpentine tail whipped forward and around, and his second wing came to rest over the first. He then curled around Jaina's body in a protective spiral, a living draconic shield, and the last thing Genn saw before the pair of them disappeared beneath the landslide was Kalec's glowing purple eyes squeeze shut.
By the Light, that was fast…
A deafening silence fell as the last few rocks tumbled free from the mountainside and came to rest against the enormous pile of rubble. Auriana watched the rocky debris intently, her muscles tensed as she waited for Kalec or Jaina to burst their way free, but it appeared that no such escape would be forthcoming. Her loosened hair was lank with sweat and she was breathing heavily with effort, though there was a distinct glint of bloodthirsty triumph shining in her eyes as she turned away from her vanquished foes and back towards the Horde; her three illusory wolves prowling hungrily in her wake.
Much like Genn and the few Alliance soldiers clustered behind them, the Horde had all stood transfixed throughout the extraordinary three-way duel. Even if Vol'jin had ordered an attack or a retreat, Genn wasn't sure it would have worked. Auriana was at the height of her power, and she had just proven that she was willing to kill anyone who stood in her way - even if they were people for whom she cared for deeply...
A soft, pained cough drew Genn's attention back down to Varian.
"I told you. Never… underestimate… my wife..."
Varian had been watching Auriana fight the entire time; his expression torn somewhere between pain, dread, and an odd sort of pride.
"Genn… you have to help me reach her," he insisted, shifting his weight to one side in a rather pitiful attempt to rise. "Please."
Genn's heart sank, and in a stark moment of clarity, he realised that the very future of Azeroth was in his hands. If he did nothing, Auriana would destroy the Horde. There was a chance it would cost her her life, but if she could single-handedly defeat mages of Jaina and Kalec's calibre in the space of a mere quarter hour, there was very little they could do to stop her.
He could not deny he was tempted.
Genn could respect people like Thrall or Vol'jin, for the most part. He believed that they both had blood on their hands, the former more so than the latter, but he also knew that there was a vast difference between a Warchief like Thrall and one like Garrosh. He could acknowledge that they both had a sincere love for their peoples, and that both had made genuine - if not always successful - attempts at maintaining the peace.
And yet... if their lives were a necessary cost of sending Sylvanas to her true death, well... Genn would have been lying if he had said it was a price he was unwilling to pay. He wasn't especially proud of such dark thoughts, but nor would he pretend that he would not give everything to see the murderous witch meet her final end.
It could be simple. Varian was badly wounded, and struggling to maintain consciousness. He could hardly be expected to intervene. Jaina and Kalec had made a sincere and genuine attempt to stop Auriana, at great personal cost to themselves. The rest of the Alliance leadership were off still fighting elsewhere, and Genn himself was protecting Varian. Blame would fall squarely on Auriana's shoulders, and on the shoulders of whatever assassins had sought to strike at Varian and provoke her ire. It was about as clean as such an unsavoury task could be, and all it would require was for Genn to do nothing…
"For Tess."
The name plunged into Genn's thoughts like a knife. His gaze met Varian's, and he saw his own dark desires reflected deep within the other man's eyes. There was no judgement in Varian's expression, but he had read Genn's intentions perfectly, and had said perhaps the one thing in the world that could give him pause.
If Auriana annihilated the entire leadership of the Horde in one fell swoop, so would she annihilate any chances for peace. The remaining Horde would never forgive such a singularly devastating act, and the march to war would be inevitable. There was a good chance the Alliance would win the resulting conflict, what with the Horde leaderless and a weapon like Auriana on their side, but it was not a guarantee. Azeroth would be ravaged, and a new generation would be forced to continue the endless cycle of war.
A generation that included Genn's only remaining child - and a child that he doubted would ever forgive him for his inaction, at that.
He wavered, uncertain; torn between his desire for vengeance and his desire to be a good man, a good father, and a good king. He hated Sylvanas with a burning passion, and while he could never truly reconcile with a faction who saw fit to allow monstrosities like the Banshee Queen into their ranks, even he could reluctantly admit that the Horde as a whole had been better under Vol'jin. He would never love them, never trust them… but with such leadership, he could, perhaps, tolerate them.
Genn sighed. Some days he longed for the relative simplicity of life behind the Greymane Wall.
"Get him up," he ordered the young druid, now tending to Varian's calf. "We have to get him to Auriana."
"Your Majesty?" she asked, bewildered. "I-I'm sorry, but he shouldn't... I've only barely got him stabilised…"
"He's the only one she'll listen to in a state like that. If you want to avoid a world war, you will heal your High King," Genn snapped, fearing he might change his mind if the question lingered too long. "Am I making myself clear?"
The druid swallowed nervously at the mention of a worldwide war, and after a brief second of hesitation, she nodded. The soothing, pale green magic swirling around her fingers suddenly brightened to a vivid emerald glow, and with a deep breath, she forced a wave of pure, natural energy into Varian's body. He spasmed violently a few times, but then his pallid cheeks darkened with some of their usual healthy colour, and his fingers tightened in Genn's fur with a renewed strength.
"It's not much, Majesty," the druid mumbled, slumping to one side in utter exhaustion as her magic faded away into nothing. "But it should be enough…"
Genn nodded his gratitude.
"Thank you," he said sincerely. "I will not forget this."
Genm was concerned for the druid, but he did not intend to waste any further time getting Varian to his feet; slipping a powerful arm beneath his shoulders and dragging him upright. Varian was still incredibly weak, despite the druid's efforts, but he could support at least enough of his own weight for Genn to help him limp across the battlefield toward Auriana, who once again had the Horde firmly in her sights. Vol'jin's eyes widened as he saw Genn and Varian's hobbling approach, but he wisely said nothing lest he give the game away. Genn was grateful - he was well aware that Auriana might simply set her wolves upon them without realising if she were startled, and he figured it was best if they were close enough for her to recognise Varian before they made their presence known.
Fortunately, Auriana had further to travel than Genn and Varian, and their paths came together at roughly the same time. The ill-advised dark arrow fired by Nathanos Blightcaller still glinted in the snow; a stark, shadowy beacon marking the point where Auriana had first confronted Vol'jin. She strode right past it, and Genn doubted that she had even remembered it was there. Her attention was fully focused on the Horde, along with whatever calamitous spell she was muttering beneath her breath.
Now or never, Genn thought grimly.
They were perhaps twenty feet behind her when Varian decided they were close enough, weakly pushing Genn aside so that he might stumble the last few steps on his own. It took everything Genn had not to help him, but he understood that this was something Varian had to do alone.
"Auri…" he whispered hoarsely, "Stop. Please."
Auriana went rigidly still at the sound of his voice, and the energy crackling around her hands wavered and dimmed.
"Varian…?"
Her voice was hesitant, as if she weren't quite sure whether she had heard him, and she did not yet dare turn around.
"I'm here, I'm... alive," he assured her, with another painful, limping step forward.
"You're… you're my Varian? This isn't… some trick?"
The second time, Auriana risked a glance over her shoulder, and the look of sheer, broken relief on her face just about broke Genn's heart.
"No trick," Varian swore. "You can stop, we… we can all just go home."
He held out a shaking, hopeful hand towards her, but her expression grew dark once more at the sight of the blood glistening upon his gloved fingertips. Her gaze swept to the wound in his chest, and then the blood on his thigh, and her lips drew into a thin line.
"But… but you're hurt. They hurt you," she whispered, her eyes brimming with hot tears.
As if sensing Auriana's pain, the illusory wolves behind her snapped at the air and shifted their paws menacingly. Varian's presence may have dampened her seething rage somewhat, but it was clear she was not yet able - or perhaps simply unwilling - to let go of it entirely. Some part of her was listening, at least, though time would soon tell whether it was the greater part.
"No, they didn't," Varian insisted wearily. "I promise you, Auri, please…"
He attempted another step forward, but whatever energy the druid had gifted him was rapidly fading. His foot slipped and he staggered to one side, letting out a loud grunt of pain as his kneecap smacked into the ground. Genn winced, hoping that their desperate gambit had not effectively signed Varian's death warrant when they had only just got him stabilised, though he nevertheless forced himself to remain standing in place.
"Varian!"
Auriana quickly closed the distance between them, her wolves prowling protectively in between her and the Horde. She and Varian were almost of a height, even with him kneeling and her standing, and if not for the tension humming in the air, it would have almost looked to be a romantic tableau; the king paying tribute to his queen. Auriana touched his cheek, her eyes glistening, and in that moment, Genn saw the simple truth - that she could not let his pain go unavenged. She remained firmly beyond reason, stewing in the depths of her rage, and there was nothing any of them could ever say or do to convince her to change her course of action.
Varian must have seen it, too, for his shoulders slumped in resignation… and he reached out his hand to curl around the dark arrow protruding from the snow about a foot to his right. He raised it swiftly, almost as if he were afraid of changing his mind if he thought about it too long, and he drove the arrowhead deep into Auriana's thigh.
"I'm sorry."
Auriana's mouth fell open in disbelief and she reeled backwards; her dismay quickly turning to anger as she realised what Varian had done. Her wolves snarled, immediately leaping forward to defend their mistress, but it was already too late. The magic holding their enormous shapes together began to fizzle and spark as the black arrow's shadowy poison leached into Auriana's veins, and within mere seconds they had vanished into nothingness once more.
Auriana stubbornly remained standing for far longer than a woman her size ought to have managed, defiant to the last, but even her rage was no match for the dark arrow's poison. It worked swiftly, weakening her to the point where her magic finally burned itself out. The blinding glow about her arms faded, and her eyes returned to their normal shade of blue. It was amazing how diminished and exhausted she appeared without it, and Genn thought he saw a flash of gratitude in her expression as she toppled forward into Varian's arms. Her dark hair spilled over his shoulders like a shroud as he drew on the last reserves of his strength to catch her, and with a low, anguished moan, she surrendered to unconsciousness, and finally lay still.
