We're running to the
Edge of the world
Running, running away
We're running to the edge of the world
I don't know if the world will end today
~Running To The Edge Of The World-Marilyn Manson~
It was a cold morning, and the sun had decided it would not come out that day. There was a heaviness, a solemnity in the air that was so palpable it might have been possible to cut it and step through. That would have been most welcome to the group that stood, their breath creating a vapor, on the stairs of the garrison town hall.
It was 30 people, the very best that could be found. Each one of them willing to sacrifice themselves to end the threat of Gul'Dan and his Iron Horde.
Jaaral, an intimidating sight dressed in full battle armor, stood beside Khadgar in his battle gear. Toriona stood beside Cordana, who held a bundled up Khaidric closely to her, the bladed cloak and helmet on the ground behind her. Garona sat quietly by herself on the stairs partway down, her long dark grey hair drawn back and braided, a thick woolen cloak around her shoulders to ward off the chill.
In front of them, looking up, were the rest of the army, a compliment of mages and warriors with a few archers and their most dreadful animal companions.
Khadgar and Cordana had spent the night conversely entwined in one another and snuggling with their son. They did not speak much beyond their words of love, they knew what the day would bring. They preferred to keep that reality as far away as possible. They were acutely aware of the value of time.
Toriona would not be going. As the Alliance ambassador, she had a garrison to run in her husband's absence, and a little half Kaldorei child to look after. She knew how formidable Jaaral was in battle, how fierce and seasoned, but she did not underestimate the evil that he would face, evil with no honor in its black heart. She too had spent the night before aware of the value of time.
Most of them had come to Draenor by way of the Tanaan Jungle, and for some of them, their journeys would end there. Garona had drawn a detailed image of the fortress during their time in the war room, named Hellfire Citadel for its demonic content, and had provided the army with the layout. She could not tell them what horrors awaited them for sure, she knew which inhabitants frequented the Citadel but that changed frequently enough. Getting to Gul'Dan would be a difficult task and there was no guarantee he was not expecting them, nor that there could be any success.
Everyone had put on their best "war faces" and shown bravado and courage to one another, but inside, every one of them without exception was terrified. Most of the army were seasoned, skilled and highly trained, but no one could truly be trained to face the denizens of the Fel. Only a few had actually faced demon-kind in battle, the rest would have to rely on training and hope their mental fortitude would not fail them. They looked at one another and wondered who would be coming back and who wouldn't, because inevitably there would be losses.
Khadgar and Jaaral had tried their best to rally the troops with rousing words and proclamations of strength and victory, and it had given the troops a morale boost, but everyone knew the truth. Victory was not guaranteed, even with Khadgar's great power to lead them.
Cordana and Khadgar both knew that there was a good chance one or both of them would not make it back, that their precious Khaidric would be raised by someone else. They had worked so hard, so tirelessly for this day and now that it was here, and the reality was sinking in, they wished to go back in time and redo their happiest days.
The Archmage and the Warden moved to stand together, away from the others, holding their son and each other. The little boy felt the tension in the air and showed his displeasure. He wrapped a little hand around his mother's hair and his father's finger and whimpered.
"Oh Khaidric, my beloved son," whispered Khadgar. "We will find a way back to you, come what may, we will find a way through this! I did not wait my entire life for you, for it to end here."
Cordana's eyes filled with tears and she looked up at her mate, then kissed her son's head. "We will be a family again very soon. We are coming back, Khaidric. It won't be too long."
Khadgar kissed his wife tenderly and brushed away the stray tear that had escaped her eye.
"I feel as though I have not had enough time with you," he whispered.
"Perhaps we should seek out Nozdormu and ask him to rewind time so that I might find you sooner and love you longer," responded Cordana, her lips against his.
Khaidric made a little sound and the Warden looked at him. The baby's bright eyes were large and he reached for her.
Something inside her flared, a fire that burned as an ember suddenly ignited with ferocity. "That demon will not tear us apart!"
Her eyes met Khadgar's, and they kissed.
The baby smiled.
The entire garrison was lined up along the sides of the cobbled path leading to the front gate. There was no jubilance, no shouts and cheers, no waving...only a respectful silence. Everybody knew that some of those hero's faces would never be seen again.
The morning light had begun to show itself as the men and women of Lunarfall, the Alliance garrison, walked out of the great gates and into the mist behind their Commander, the Archmage and his Warden.