It looked much like the tide rushing in. The Scourge hit the walls and went over it, or through the gates, the defenders too shocked or terrified to shut them. But instead of attacking, the Scourge flooded the streets, rushing, rushing and running and clattering towards the Cathedral District and then the docks beyond.

Swooping low, the Frost Wyrm let loose with a breath of ice and cleared a line through the Naga.

Jaina brought her longship in, barely missing the bell tower, and positioned it over the main Naga force. And then she stepped off of it and dropped like a stone, hitting the ground and sending a wave of frost in every direction. Before the Naga had a chance to recover she waded in, sweeping her runestaff out in front of her and casting rapid-fire spells.

She heard Thalyssra's voice over the din, ordering her mages into position, and Stormwind soldiers rushed in to join in pushing back the Naga.

"Jaina!"

"Yes, Anduin?" She turned to look at him, flinging a fireball without bothering to look the Naga she was incinerating.

"What the hell?" He gestured with his sword at the undead swarming over the Naga. "How?"

Jaina ran a hand down her braid.

She stood with the icy bay to her back, staring down an endless sea of the undead. Some were fresh from their graves, others had wandered the wastelands for decades. In each of them she felt a spark, screaming deep within them for freedom.

Had this been how Tyra, Kalira and Nathanos had looked the day Sylvanas had freed them? Had this been how they'd all felt?

Jaina lifted her arms, and reached out to them. She felt their despair and their loneliness as her own, she felt their rage and sadness, she latched onto hopes and dreams long dormant. "The greatest lie ever told was that there must always be a Lich King."

And those sparks ignited.

She let go of her braid, squaring her shoulders. To remind everyone of who she was. Lord Admiral. Lady of Orgrimmar. And… "The Scourge is no more, Anduin. They are free. They are, as am I, Forsaken."

The King looked at her, truly looked at her. And then he nodded. "Okay."

Thalyssra joined them. "There's something very wrong with these Naga. I haven't been able to place what it is exactly."

"Work with me," Jaina suggested, holding out her hand. "Anduin, if you would watch our backs?"

"Gladly."

With Thaylssra's hand joined with hers, Jaina closed her eyes. "There's a great deal of energy in the air. Far more than can be explained by our magics alone."

"We can pinpoint it together."

"Will … they lose control without you?"

Jaina smiled. "They follow me because they choose to, not because I commanded them to."

She focused on the arcane that Stormwind appeared to be drowning in. It was everywhere, yet focused in specific points and groups, and moving—-

Her eyes snapped open and she exchanged a look with Thalyssra who said, "Fuck!".

"Eloquent," Jaina remarked. "Together?"

"Yes."

Jaina swept her arm down as Thalyssra did the same, sending magic rippling through Stormwind. Like balloons pricked with a needle, the Naga started to pop, leaving behind only purple residue and little over a dozen of the flesh and blood variety.

It was a simple matter to mop up the stragglers, but Jaina's eyes were drawn to the sea, and her ears picked up something that sounded a lot like singing. It wasn't Azshara's voice, which she was unfortunately familiar with by now, but it reminded her of songs she'd heard shortly after she'd died; and older songs still, late at night in Kul Tiras and Theramore.

"It can't have been..." Thalyssra murmured to herself.

Water started to rise in the bay, burning ships sliding down the mounting waive to crash into the docks. In the center of it was a figure, a woman, hard to make out. Not Azshara's silhouette, but similar. Her song reached a crescendo, and the wave crashed towards the city.

Jaina ran towards it, holding her hands up as if she could somehow stop it by sheer force of will alone. The wave stalled, the wall of water shuddering, her eyes flaring as she drew deep into her reserves of power, and pushed it back. It broke, splashing harmless apart, most of the water falling back into the bay and the rest soaking everyone and everything from the docks to the Cathedral district.

The singing woman screamed before she hit the water, and Jaina knew she would be gone before they could get to her.

"Illusions?" Anduin wiped the water from his face. "We've been fighting illusions this whole time?"

"Yes. Solid enough to still cause harm." Thalyssra folded her arms, seeming to be upset about something. "And I should have figured it out immediately, but I was too distracted. We could have ended this much sooner if I had."

She turned her attention to Jaina, and the undead that now awkwardly shuffled around them.

"I'll explain later," Jaina said. "Right now it's obvious this attack was the diversion."

"It's likely the Durotar attack is as well," Anduin mused. He nodded at Thalyssra, though Jaina could tell the undead unnerved him, "You left Suramar in good hands?"

"Yes, I don't think it's a likely target." Her throat bobbed, "Most of the other attacks were pushed back as well. It could be she's making another attempt on the Sunwell."

"Let's consider the options," Jaina said. "Places of power she doesn't already have access to. The Sunwell, the Well of Eternity, the Nightwell, Kaldrassil…"

"The Nightwell's power has been slowly draining over the years, it's barely a third of what it once was," Thalyssra pointed out.

"Still, that makes it a target."

"What places of power remain in Northrend are out of Azshara's reach," Jaina said. She hadn't needed the bulk of the former Scourge for this; and they were just numerous enough, and the sources just weak enough, that Azshara would likely ignore it for now.

"Both the Horde and Alliance have made overtures to protecting some of these sources of power," Anduin said. "If the Nightwell was in trouble, Thalyssra likely would have received a message by now. If it's the Well of Eternity, there are enough druids in Stormwind I'd have been informed."

"Last I heard there was only a token effort at the Sunwell." Thalyssra pinned her ears back. "Which leaves Kaldrassil."

"In any event, I'll take my forces north." Jaina looked back at them, then waved her hand. Kiry landed in a swirl of frost and joined her. "We march to Kaldrassil."

Kiry nodded, though her eyes remained on the living. Jaina frowned, then indicated the Frost Wyrm. "This is Kirygosa. She was the first to join me."

"You would turn a Frost Wyrm," Thalyssra said. "I'll teleport to Suramar and gather my armies. Once we have confirmation that Kaldrassil is the real target, I'll begin teleporting them to Gilneas."

"I'll send a message to Genn." Anduin eyed Kiry. "At the very least to warn him the armies marching to his land are on his side, and to find out what's going on in the World Tree. We must move quickly, of course; but Tyrande knows what she's doing, especially against Azshara. We should have time to organize reinforcements."

"No," Thalyssra said, and the dread in her voice would have made Jaina's blood run cold if it still flowed. "No, I believe we may already be too late. I hadn't realized—I'm a fool. If the Alliance hasn't heard from her either since the night of the attacks, then Tyrande is missing. And Azshara would not have waited for the kaldorei to organize a new chain of command."

Jaina stared at her. "How do we lose a High Priestess?"

Thalyssra's face was etched with guilt, a guilt that Jaina could almost understand, "I assumed she was occupied, and we had no word otherwise until all of this started. I never wanted to be the kind of lover who constantly checked on her."

"I don't think she'd fault you that," Anduin assured her.

Jaina nodded, "Then let us focus on what needs to be done now."

They'd taken Tyrande from her cell. The chains chafed and burned her skin, but out here, she could feel the ocean more strongly. The Moon was still little more than a whisper through the tides, but she allowed it to comfort her, and conserved her strength.

Azshara lounged indolently by the edge of a pool of swirling water, the effect making Tyrande feel vaguely ill as images flickered and spun within. The Queen glanced up as Tyrande was prodded into the chamber, feigning vague disinterest. Tyrande allowed the Naga guards to sweep her feet from under her, softening and falling with the momentum rather than waste time and this opportunity trying to resist over a small humiliation. They threw her to her knees next to the scrying pool, and Tyrande ignored the vague motion sickness of the rapid-fire shifts between images to try to glean what information she could.

"Glorious, is it not?" Azshara's boredom with whatever was happening seemed temporarily assuaged; the image in the pool solidified on a single viewpoint, Tyrande's gut twisting at the sight of Naga swarming over the blood-soaked streets of Stormwind. Azshara was too close again, her scent sickly sweet to Tyrande's nose. "Your former allies at the mercy of my armies."

"War is never glorious, and rarely necessary."

"Peace does not suit you." One of Azshara's hands stroked the back of Tyrande's head, before digging into her hair and scalp as she pushed her head closer to the water. "What do you see."

Tyrande's voice was even, if just a little bit smug. "I see the First Arcanist turning your army into arcade powder."

"A risky gamble, leaving Suramar."

It meant Valtrois was left behind, Tyrande thought. She was the only one Thalyssra would trust with the defense of the city, and one of the few powerful enough to handle whatever Azshara might throw at them. Azshara might think she was issuing some chilly threat, but as much as Valtrois annoyed her, she'd put her money on the Shal'dorei over anyone in Azshara's armies.

"Now what's this?" Azshara said, not waiting for Tyrande to acknowledge her comment on Suramar. "Someone unexpected took my bait."

The view in the whirlpool grew foggy and blurry. Tyrande narrowed her eyes, trying to see whatever it was that had drawn Azshara's attention. Somehow, it seemed like it might be important.

When the fog lifted, they were viewing the city from another angle, and though Tyrande tried to mask her reaction it was impossible to hold back the quiet gasp at the sight of Jaina leading the Scourge.

Not trusting Azshara's faux surprise, Tyrande wondered which was supposed to be the hammer and which the anvil with Stormwind in the middle. She tore her eyes from the Scourge charging towards the city and glanced at Azshara.

Azshara was enraged, the tendrils that used to be her hair waving in agitation and all of her eyes fixed on Jaina in her longship. She clenched her fists and unclenched them, then lifted two. The pool froze on Jaina's face, and wild-eyed, Azshara smashed her fists into the water, shattering it like ice. "She dares to mock me?"

"It is not much of a challenge."

Three of Azshara's eye swiveled to glare at Tyrande. "Silence your tongue, or I shall do it for you."

Tyrande dug her nails into her palm and bit back a retort that might have gotten her another set of bruises. It was better to wait and watch than antagonize Azshara too much. As badly as she needed to get a few verbal wins in, it was much more important to try to gain any sort of insight into what was going on in the rest of the world.

The whirlpool had repaired itself, and Tyrande focused on what it was showing instead. It was a strange thing to pin her hope upon, and yet, there it was; the Scourge fighting alongside the living against the Naga. Jaina wasn't just mocking Azshara, she was spitting in her eye.

Good girl. Tyrande had a dozen questions that would have to wait until she was free of this place. Her eyes flicked to Azshara and she raised her eyebrows as if to ask 'am I allowed to speak now?'

Azshara ignored her, instead turning to one of the Naga in the room with them. "Make sure that our Siren is not captured. Kill her if you must, but she cannot be taken prisoner. The High Priestess should be on her way to join our main attack force and take command."

"Main attack force?" Tyrande jerked her head towards the whirlpool. "What was that, then?"

Again, Azshara grabbed Tyrande's hair and pushed her face towards the pool. "Watch."

"I'm beginning to suspect the sensor net and blockade was completely useless." Valtrois nudged a dead naga with the toe of her boot and crinkled her nose as the sound it made.

"It was only really a token effort at best," Stellagossa remarked. "Designed to make everyone feel good about letting Azshara go." She stepped around Valtrois and over another corpse, tapping her right forefinger in the air as she counted the number of dead Naga. "Much like this attack was also a token effort at best. They didn't even bring along their better spellcasters."

Stella sounded disappointed. Valtrois folded her hands behind her back and took her place at Stella's side. "Eleven here. A few other groups in other parts of the city. It's like they just wanted to keep us too busy to pay much attention to goings on elsewhere."

"Yes, well, it wasn't even all that entertaining." Stella pouted, "I wish I'd been here for that assassination cluster you had to deal with. That sounded like fun."

Valtrois agreed with her lover, lifting her hand to her face and tapping her lips with two fingers as she considered her course of action. "Well, I have fulfilled my obligation to the First Arcanist and Suramar is made safe. Therefore I am faced with two choices."

"And those are?"

"Pour myself a glass of wine and invite Arcanist Elissandra to our bedchambers, or leave her in charge of the city while we investigate a hunch of mine."

"I would recommend option two," Stella said, rolling her eyes.

"Pity, I found an old vintage from—" Valtrois fell silent as Stella leaned in close, breath hot on her ear.

"Have you perhaps considered that, sometimes, I'd rather have you all to myself?"

The only sign that her words had any effect on Valtrois, was a slight stiffening of her spine, but it was enough for Stella to chuckle and answer for her.

"I don't think you have."

"We have had plenty of experience. Together." And yet, Valtrois couldn't deny that she often sought the company of others, with or without Stellagosa. She had an open mind and honestly a heart big enough for others, though she was loathe to admit that latter part. Alarmed, she asked, "You're not getting jealous, are you?"

She'd never heard of a dragon getting jealous. As far as she knew they didn't tend to be monogamous, which is one of the things that made her perfect to Valtrois.

"Of course not. I know how you are and I'd never dream of asking you to be anyone else." Stella cupped her cheek and smiled teasingly, "But once in awhile, I'd like it to just be us."

Valtrois sighed, and leaned into Stella's hand. "I love you, you know. I could be a little more considerate…Of your feelings. So…" She looked down at the blood soaking the bottoms of their robes. "Let us clean up and deal with my hunch."

"If your hunch is going to end up with us walking through more dead naga, it would be counter-productive to change."

"And here I was hoping you'd get my hint," Valtrois replied with a smirk. She started to create a portal, only for it to be redirected by some outside force. Frowning, she tried again, and then a third time.

"The just-us can wait until the current crisis is passed."

"Agreed… Curious. There's something preventing my portals. Probably the same thing that was interfering with my scrying bowl."

Stella rolled her shoulders, her body stretching and elongating rapidly until she stood before Valtrois in all her dragon beauty. "Climb on, my love."

"You're always so beautiful." Valtrois ran her hands along the scales of Stellagosa's neck, imagining all the things they could do together in this form, once they had the time. Once she'd allowed herself that singular moment to admire her dragon, she climbed elegantly up to Stella's back. "I'll message Elissandra on the way. We'll want to bring in help once I've eliminated the interference."

Giving her head a shake, Stella spread her wings out and then lifted off. "Where are we going?"

Gripping onto Stella as tightly as she could, Valtrois called out, "Kaldrassil!"

The dragon banked, sweeping out over the sea, east and a little south. She picked up speed, faster than any ship or flying craft; or any other dragon, in Valtrois' utterly unbiased opinion.

Hopefully it would be fast enough.