CHAPTER 8 Part III

Helpless, Illidan watched his brother fall. He roared, furious. The bond to Tyrande collapsed. He staggered to his brother's side, realising just how much Tyrande's transformation into Sargeras's avatar had taken from him. He knelt beside Malfurion, his brother still lived, but he was falling fast. Xe'ra's light surrounded him, sustaining him, holding him back from the brink of oblivion.

Movement beside Illidan made him look up, sharp. Gul'dan moaned, struggling to come to his feet. His face was completely ruined, a gaping hole where his nose had once been exposed the bloody interior of his throat. One of his eyes were gone, a seeping, viscous hole filled the orifice. Both his incisors were snapped off at their bases, and one of his ears hung by a thin piece of flesh to his skull. Blood matted his beard. He was almost unrecognisable. Malfurion had done his work well, if it hadn't been for Sargeras, Gul'dan would have fallen.

With great gentleness, Illidan set Malfurion back onto the floor and rose up before Gul'dan. He had lost almost all his strength to Tyrande's transition, but he still had his will, and he would not let this creature stand, ever again. He lifted his cloven hoof, and slammed it down onto Gul'dan's ravaged, bleeding torso.

Gul'dan grunted and fell back. Out of his nightmarish visage, he looked up at Illidan with his remaining eye, cold, his hatred unbending. "Even if you kill me, the Legion still wins," he rasped.

"The Legion hasn't won yet," Illidan said, grim, pushing his weight against Gul'dan's torso, crushing him against the flagged stone floor. The orc chuckled, despite his obvious agony, taunting Illidan. "Wait and see, nothing can stop Sargeras. Nothing. I just wish I could be here to see you try."

Illidan stared at the twisted, mocking face, filled with hatred. He wanted to make him suffer, force him to experience thousands of years of misery. He reached down with both hands, and closed them around the orc's throat, cutting off his air. The orc didn't fight him, he lay passive, letting Illidan do his work. It didn't take long. Gul'dan shuddered, his eye rolling back into his head. A heartbeat later his body went limp.

It was done. Illidan stood up and stared at the lifeless creature, the object of all his hatred for so long, and felt . . . nothing.

"Illidan," breathed Tyrande, her voice darkened by the taint of Sargeras. "You are mine now. You will be my Commander. Together we will cleanse the Great Dark of all life and defeat the Void."

A shield of ice sprang up from the floor around him, deflecting the fel that poured from Tyrande's eyes. She laughed, soft. "How quaint. Even when all is lost, still they fight."

He looked at her, apart from her eyes which filled him with an intensity that threatened to overwhelm him, she was still Tyrande.

"Do not look him in the eyes!" Khadgar cried out. Illidan tore his gaze away, but already the titan's taint had touched him. His thoughts tumbled, reorganising. Yes. The power Sargeras offered was beyond his wildest imaginings. And he could be with Tyrande. He could still protect her. There would be worlds to cleanse in the continuous fight against the Void. Sargeras's mind might be controlling her, but her body was still hers. Illidan could protect her, in the long fight ahead, she could still fall. He threw his head back and broke free of the icy shield. Tyrande smiled and held out her hand to him.

He went to her, and kissed it. She stroked his brow, tender. He knelt before her.

"My love, I am yours. Whatever you ask of me, I shall be that to you."

She looked at the little group assembled at the entrance of the Chamber. Disdain touched her lips. "Kill them."

A surge of power coursed through her fingers into him, he drank of it. It had been so long since he had felt true strength. He rose up, invigorated. Nothing could compare to this. He was a god. He stepped towards the group, his lips curving into a cold smile. From behind their wall of ice, the mages gripped their staves, determination radiating from them.

The Na'aru still fed her Light into Malfurion, he ignored it. The female mage, dressed in glittering white interested him more. Her aura of power was staggering. She outstripped the rest, even the Na'aru. He could sense Sargeras's thoughts, prodding him to remove her first. He turned to face her, lifting up his hands to draw from the fel energy that coursed through his body.

The Na'aru began to spin faster, the increasing pressure of her wings making the air vibrate. The walls of the Chamber shimmered, becoming translucent. The light brightened, the room fading to white. Illidan couldn't see the others anymore. Irritated, he turned and cast a wall of fel at the annoying thing, to extinguish it. White light exploded outwards from it, surrounded him, blinding him, burning the fel out of him. Pain screamed through him, weakness returned. His thoughts scattered. Who was he? Where was he?

Silence. He floated in endless Light. His vision returned, slow. Was he dead? Please, do not let his body be gone once more. He lifted his hands, or what he believed would be his hands. Before his eyes, they began to disintegrate, breaking into thousands of tiny cubes, so small, they flowed like water. The disintegration spread to his arms, consuming his torso, his legs, and finally his cloven hooves. The pieces of him whirled into a vortex, darting and spiralling around him like a vast school of fish. Somewhere in the centre of the silent maelstrom, was his awareness, his consciousness, just like when he had awoken the Nether. Once more he was nothing. He screamed. No sound came.

The Light parted, and from his cocoon he saw another maelstrom spinning in the distance in total silence. It moved, slow, closing the space. Fear came then. Illidan could not comprehend any of this. Nothing he learned about death had prepared him for this. The other swirling mass approached, building momentum, moving faster. He realised what was going to happen. He tried to pull away, but the Light held him firm in its grip. He sensed the outer edges of the other seething pillar touching his own. Its pieces began to infiltrate him, his mass growing, doubling, Light surrounded him, healing him, empowering him, binding the two lives into one. Understanding came. He asked the question, even though he was certain of the answer.

Malfurion?

Brother, I am not long for this world, but I will aid you in your fight. Malfurion answered, his voice strong once more. We must not waste what the Na'aru has sacrificed for us, and for Azeroth.

I will not fail you, Malfurion.

Let us save the woman we love, together.

The Light flared, brilliant, one last time. A low, mournful chime filled Illidan's senses. He blinked. Once more he stood within the Chamber of the Eye, the walls, floor and even the distant ceiling glowed, suffused in clean, white light. He looked for the Na'aru, but where she should be, he found only empty space. He took a step back, and felt something snap under his tread. He looked down. Xe'ra's silent husk lay on the stone floor, the crystal pieces of her entity blackened and broken. He stared, stunned. She had given up all of her light. And now, the last Na'aru was gone. She looked so small and fragile. Without her light, she was nothing, ephemeral. A spasm of grief shot through him. She had given up everything to stop the Legion. He would not fail her. He felt his hands clench into fists. The light in the Chamber brightened.

He stared at his hands, and then the rest of his body, astonished. He glowed with the light of the Na'aru. No longer did he bear the form of a demon hunter, Xe'ra's work had cleansed him. He was himself, a night elf once more, just as he was long ago in Suramar before the Legion's arrival. He sensed Malfurion's wild druidic power coursing through him alongside powerful surges of his own ancient arcane power, lost long ago during his transformation into a demon hunter.

Ahead, the little trio of mages—all there was left of Dalaran's rescue party—stood behind their frozen shield, immobile, their staves raised, defiant. He turned, even Tyrande, under the powerful thrall of Sargeras was not moving. Illidan realised Xe'ra had given him one final gift. During his transformation, she had stopped time, and by doing so had given him a great advantage.

But not for long. He could feel the creep of time returning, the low hum of the arcane magic being cast by Khadgar and Kalec; the chill in the air, caused by the presence of the enigmatic frost mage, and the metallic stink of Gul'dan's blood. Illidan turned, harnessing the power within him, and cast the three schools of magic as one. Arcane, wild magic and holy light poured out of him into Tyrande.

She jolted. He had enough time to hit her once more. His heart aching, he released the combined energies of his new powers against her, burning her. She juddered, still trapped in the amber of time. He was hurting her, he knew it. Even if Sargeras's mind was upon her, controlling her, her body was still hers, and the pain would be her own, just as she had suffered in the sphere. Only now it was not Elune who was burning her, but him. Light, the blessed, clean, holy light of the Na'aru, now housed within him, left him, draining away into her, cleansing her, burning the corruption of fel from her spirit.

Time returned. Arcane fire hit him in the back. He staggered, gasping. Khadgar and Kalec were powerful, much more than he had credited them for. He ignored the pain and continued to cast, focussing all his energy on banishing Sargeras from Tyrande—even if it meant killing her. He could hear the shouts of Khadgar as he called to the others, giving them new orders. Arcane fire slammed into her. Illidan almost couldn't bear it. They were killing her. He was killing her to save her. Never in his worst imaginings could he have foreseen this ending between them.

Tyrande's face twisted, becoming ugly, darkened by the rage of Sargeras. She thrust out her arms, fel energy crackling around her fingers. Illidan braced himself for her onslaught. A wall of ice rose up between them, absorbing enough fel to demolish a city. The shield remained, intact. Illidan turned, gaping. Who was that woman? As she held the shield in place her violet eyes glowed bright. Illidan's senses—enhanced by the Na'aru's light—told him he was looking at no ordinary human. She was something else. Whatever she had come to do here in the Chamber, it was not to just cast ice walls. She was biding her time, but why? He caught her gaze flicker to Khadgar, saw the anguish in her face. Ah. Hope. She was hoping the others could finish Sargeras so she wouldn't have to. Fel slammed against the ice wall again, Tyrande screaming in frustration as her attacks were rendered useless against the other woman's magic.

From behind the barrier, Illidan continued to cast his spells, until his arms shook from fatigue. He had unleashed enough power to take down an entire an army of demons, yet Tyrande still stood, driven by the fury of Sargeras; her eyes aflame, her body ravaged, pieces of her flesh hung loose, her skin blistered and bubbled, some of it had even melted away, liquefied. She was almost unrecognisable.

Illidan continued to cast, longing for her to die, so the nightmare would end; so her suffering and pain would end. Somewhere inside the creature she had become, was the woman he had loved for thousands of years, he knew she would be longing for the release of death, and he was determined to grant her that. Behind him, he heard Khadgar and Kalec casting spells, using all of their power to aid him. Soon now, she would fall. There was almost nothing left of her for Sargeras to use. Choking back his tears, Illidan focussed his mind and continued to fire lethal bolts at the woman he loved, to save her, and bring an end to the Legion, once and for all.

Khadgar hadn't had time to think about everything that had gone wrong since they arrived, everything had happened so fast. Malfurion and Xe'ra were gone, and despite Illidan's return as a powerful being, who now aided them, it wasn't enough. Even with their combined powers, Sargeras's avatar was proving to be near immortal.

Khadgar suspected it was the latent Light of Elune still within Tyrande which sustained her far beyond the point of physical death. But none of this really mattered if he was running out of mana. Soon he would be unable to cast anything more than a flame for a lamp. He glanced at Kalec, who appeared to have endless resources of mana, but then he was the former Aspect of the Blue Dragonflight. He was glad he had agreed to let Kalec convince him to join them, instead of sending Kalec to aid the offensive on the Broken Shore. And Idira—he stopped himself from looking at her so as not to break his concentration—her power was incredible. How she was able to sustain her shields against the might of Sargeras, a titan, told Khadgar things he wasn't sure he was comfortable with.

Not even a Guardian could have done what she was doing, even so, he sensed Idira was using only a drop of her abilities. She was more powerful than even the Dragon Aspects. That left only two possibilities, a Na'aru, which she clearly was not, or . . . no, he wouldn't even allow himself to think it. They would survive this, Tyrande's ravaged body would succumb to their onslaught, and Sargeras would lose his avatar forcing him to return to wherever his stronghold was in the Nether and leave Azeroth in peace. Soon, it would be over, and they would return to Dalaran, triumphant. Tonight would be the beginning of a new life for him, with Idira by his side.

One of Illidan's spell hit Tyrande hard. She staggered, and fell to her knees, panting, on all fours. She turned her head, and looked up at them, her eyes churning with fel. She laughed, and for the first time when she spoke, he did not hear Tyrande's voice, but Sargeras's. His deep, commanding voice gripped Khadgar, mesmerising him. He lowered his staff.

"You think you have defeated me? Fools. There is always another. There will always be another, you will never stop me. Azeroth will be mine."

Silence fell. Kalec and Illidan stared at what was left of Tyrande as she dragged herself across the floor, trailing pieces of flesh, blood, and fel behind her. She reached Gul'dan and lay down beside him. Fel energy spiralled within her, and slid, sinuous into Gul'dan and across the room to the others.

Tendrils of fel touched Illidan first, wrapping around him. More tendrils shot out and imprisoned Kalec next. They reached Khadgar and brushed against him, sinuous. He thought they would be cold, but they were warm. They slithered up around him, tightening. He felt the immense power of the titan, and how much more he could be if he succumbed. Confusion clouded his thoughts. What had he been fighting for all this time? What Sargeras wished to do made so much sense. He was a benevolent titan, but none understood him. He had to destroy to create. A universe cleansed of all life was better than a universe controlled by the Void. Sargeras only wanted to begin again, but to do so, he had to destroy all life, even life as yet untainted by the Void. Yes. A fine plan. He understood Medivh now, finally, after all this time, Khadgar understood. It was a relief.

Illidan stiffened, his hands clenching into fists. Light sparked within his fists, and shot out, against the fel encasing him, a desperate, feeble attempt to overcome the power of Sargeras.

Idira walked through the ice barrier. The fel tendrils sliding between the mages and the pair on the floor eased away from her, unwilling to be touched by her. She stopped in front of Khadgar, and turned to look at him. Her hand slid through the barrier. She touched his face, the grief in her eyes palpable.

"My love. I shall miss you."

Terror seized Khadgar. No. They could still end this, they just had to free themselves from the hold of Sargeras. There was still time. He had to stop her. He couldn't move, the fel had encased him in its grip, in preparation for the theft of his spirit. He tried to call out to her, but no sound came. He watched, utterly helpless, his heart pounding, as she walked across the room to Sargeras, working to create a new avatar for himself out of the others.

"Sargeras," Idira said, quiet. "You will not have me."

Tyrande rose up to face Idira, a slow smile spread across her blistered lips.

"Ah . . . Azeroth herself comes to me."

Khadgar sagged within the grip of the fel, his worst fears confirmed. Idira was the world soul, Azeroth herself. Long ago, when Medivh was still his mentor, Khadgar had found a book in Karazhan that spoke of the titans, and of one, called Sargeras who had defeated them all in his obsession to cleanse the universe of all life. It had been said there was one, and only one world soul who could stop him, who had been cherished, protected and nurtured by the titans. Azeroth. It had seemed a fanciful tale, indeed it had been written like a story. But it was no story after all, it was true. Azeroth was alive, and had brought herself into the world, hidden away in the farmlands of Westfall, letting circumstances lead her to where she needed to be and the one who would give her access to the things she needed to learn so she could be here, right now, to defend herself and all that depended on her. Azeroth would live, but Idira would be no more. Khadgar felt tears burning his eyes. Idira, my love, how shall I go on without you?

Idira's eyes lit up, so bright the Chamber glowed with violet light.

"You are wrong Sargeras. Life will overcome the Void, not fire."

Tyrande raised her hand and fel fire flamed from her fingers. "Fire is all there is," Sargeras hissed. "Even for you."

A wall of flames stuck Idira. They slid over her frozen gown, harmless, extinguishing. She smiled, soft. "Even in fire, life remains, both good and evil. You cannot cleanse evil by destroying life. It is the way of wisdom to understand there must be balance. Always, there must be balance."

She reached out and touched Tyrande's fingers. The fel burning in them retreated, rushing back up Tyrande's arm and into her torso, sweeping upwards until only the colour of fel continue to burn in Tyrande's eyes.

"You have done much harm to me, Sargeras. I have been patient, but the time has come to end this once and for all."

Brilliant light exploded from Idira. Khadgar felt the fel tethers binding him burn away. Released, he rushed forward, but the wall of ice still stood in place, preventing him from reaching her. He felt Kalec's fingers digging into his shoulders, dragging him back. Khadgar kicked out, struggling against Kalec's strength, smashing his fist against the ice, trying to break through it.

"No. Please. No!" he screamed, desperation clawing at him. He was going to lose her. He had to stop her before it was too late.

Kalec's arm came around his shoulders, jerking him, rough, away from the ice wall. The sound came next, a deep bass vibration that plummeted so deep, Khadgar's arms and legs went numb. He could feel every cell in his body shudder. The ice barriers exploded, and the winds of a hurricane blew outwards, tearing at his clothing, sending him slamming against the wall, whipping shards of ice across his face. The wind pushed into his nose and mouth. He couldn't inhale, he choked, gagging. Pinpoints of black speckled in his eyes, his vision darkening as he suffocated.

The hurricane stopped, abrupt. Silence fell. He toppled to the floor in a heap and gulped at the air, his lungs burning. He lifted his head, but he could see nothing, white light suffused the Chamber, cocooning him within its embrace. He sagged against the wall, panting. Idira. He crawled forward, blood dripping down his nose from his forehead, his hands searching the floor, trying to find her.

The light dissipated, slow. No longer obscured by the thick light, the features of the Chamber coalesced. Kalec and Illidan were on all fours, recovering. Illidan bled out from a deep gash in his temple. He shook his head, spattering blood onto the floor. Wiping his brow, he shifted over to what was left of Tyrande and picked her up, gentle. He cradled her against him, sheltering her, his shoulders wracking with silent sobs.

Khadgar knelt where Idira had last stood. Her silver circlet lay on the stone flags. The runes encircling it lay dormant and silent, their violet light extinguished. He took it up with both hands and pressed it against his tunic over his heart. Idira was gone. Numb, Khadgar sank back onto his haunches, and stared at the place where she had last stood cleansing the fel from Tyrande's ruined body. Idira had just been there, and now she was nowhere. He didn't even have a body to mourn.

"The portal," Kalec pointed at the wall. "It's gone. Azeroth herself has sealed the breach to the Nether."

Deep booms vibrated from far below the Chamber. The structure around them shook, trembling under the force of the shifting foundation beneath them. The floor began to tilt, groaning, under the pressure of its own weight. A rushing, grinding noise moved towards them from the depths. A massive pillar of rock shot up from the floor, slamming into the ceiling far above, a cascade of masonry rained down around them. The floor's tilt escalated, sending Khadgar sliding across it. He hit the opposite wall, fast becoming the floor.

"We have to get out of here, the Tomb is collapsing!" Illidan yelled as he crashed into the wall, still holding Tyrande against him, her blood spreading across his tunic.

Kalec cast a portal to Dalaran, Illidan leapt into it as a massive rock tumbled down from above, landing where he had just been. Clutching Idira's circlet, Khadgar stared at the glowing portal. The bright colour and order of the city of the Kirin Tor were no longer what he wished for. He took a step back, the thunder of collapsing walls within the vast structure deafening. Kalec gestured, frantic at the portal. Khadgar shook his head. He would stay. He had done his job, he had protected Azeroth. The Legion was vanquished. Azeroth had used Idira's life to channel her titanic power into the seal against Sargeras. He would die here, with Idira. There was nothing left for him now. Without her, his life felt empty, meaningless.

Kalec roared at him, his face twisting with frustration. The floor shifted again, throwing both of them back across the room. Khadgar slammed into the pillar, it hurt but he didn't care. A crack opened in the floor, and the wall they had just stood on slid into the abyss.

Kalec's lips were moving. Khadgar didn't need to guess what he was casting. Kalec. Don't. Let it go. Leave me.

The ground moved again, and the abyss opened, wider. Sea water gushed from the depths, the rich smell of brine saturating the air. The water washed over Khadgar, soaking his heavy tunic and collar, dragging him down. Still he held onto the circlet. All his life he had wondered what his true purpose was. Now he knew, it had been to aid Idira, Azeroth's human vessel; to discover her abilities, and give her access to the library he had salvaged from Karazhan, which he realised he had never done for himself, but for her. Azeroth had guided his steps all his life, grooming him, preparing him for this, for Her stand against the Legion.

The world soul had chosen him, and now in a matter of days his entire purpose had been fulfilled and concluded. Nothing could compare to what he had experienced in the short time he had had Idira in his life. Nothing. The water pulled at him. He let go, sinking into the depths, even as the ancient masonry of the Tomb of Sargeras crashed into the waters around him. In death he would find her again. Idira was still a human, her spirit would be in the Nether. He would find her.

Light flashed. Khadgar opened his eyes. Dalaran. Xe'ra's room. Kalec, soaking wet, shifted over to him, and pulled him up by his collar. Khadgar looked at the circlet in his hands. Idira was alone. He felt Kalec's hand on his shoulder, gripping him, trying to reach him. Tears burned in Khadgar's eyes, making the circlet blur. He had left her alone, like a coward.

"Khadgar, I couldn't leave you. I couldn't do it. I understand your pain. I was there once too, but for her sake, you must go on, there is still much to do. The people of Azeroth need you to guide them."

Khadgar shook his head. No. He was finished. He teleported to his apartment and warded it. Still holding Idira's circlet tight in his grip, he cast another teleport and left Azeroth, intending never to return.