Many thanks to those who review! Great progress is being made behind the scenes for this story, as well as my other projects, despite minor cluttering from schoolwork and other necessities. Enjoy! ~F
Chapter Seventy
Scattering
Voldemort came to his senses in due time, enraged at the pain that he had just underwent when the ghostly woman did… whatever she had done to him.
Only after several moments did he realize that he was free of the cage, and redressed in his armor and clutching his truncheon, with the Nathrezim and the other undead woman standing before him. Anger filled him once more at the indignities that had been heaped upon him.
Swinging the scepter forward, he yelled, "Avada Kedav…" but something forcefully bound his tongue, preventing him from finishing the deadly curse and slaying the undead woman before him.
He was so baffled at the lack of his ability to use his magic on this corpse that the demon was able to walk forward and casually strike him, sending the Death Knight flying backward and crashing to the stone ground in a heap.
"I see that you've managed to regain control of your body, for the most part," the female undead said coldly, "Sharlindra's sacrifice was not in vain, you are mine now…"
Voldemort seethed. It was bad enough that Potter had control over him, but now this crone thought that she could command him; him, the Dark Lord that made the entire British Isle tremble in fear for years.
"My Lady," the demon said, glancing at the other undead for a moment before returning his attention to Voldemort, "do you think it wise to send this one back to his former master without even so much as a guard to watch him…"
The red eyes of the woman, Sylvanas his mind supplied strangely, bore down upon Voldemort as she seemed to ponder the matter.
"Perhaps you are correct on this account Varimathris, we will not yet send him back to his masters in the south…" she replied.
Leaning forward however, she added, "We will make sure to test the full capabilities of this one upon our enemies here first, and then send him back with his orders for his old allies…"
Voldemort couldn't understand what was going on, but for some unexplainable reason he rose to his feet slowly, and obeyed as the undead commanded that he follow her and the demon out of the chamber.
Slowly he strolled with the pair in silence through the halls of the Undercity, Forsaken all around them saluting the being that was clearly their leader. The title Banshee Queen came to his mind unprovoked, and slowly it dawned upon Voldemort what had happened. He had read long ago of such acts of soul magic, where disembodied spirits would attempt to inhabit the bodies of the living, controlling and utterly destroying the original person.
He had never believed such a tale when he had been living, but started to understand where the idea came from when Potter had destroyed him the first time, and he had been reduced to a menacing spirit himself.
He had thought that he would be protected from such a thing with his Horcruxes, and later the fact that his scepter functioned exactly like his previous ones. However, thinking quickly as to how this had happened, he realized that it was the reverse. Removing his soul from his body had in fact weakened his resistance to possession, as there was now nothing there for the spirit to fight out of him.
However, at the same time that was what allowed him to survive, so there was a give and a take regarding the concept. His attention was forcefully returned to the undead before him, and he cursed the spirit that had invaded his body once again.
They halted just before the corridor down to the chamber where Voldemort had seen the female undead before. "I will have you go east, into the Plaguelands, and meet with my champion, Nathanos Blightcaller, and from there go north and liberate the city of Stratholme of both the Scourge and the Scarlet Crusade, along with Nathanos' help, as well as the Scarlet bastion of Tyr's Hand. Do these things, and return to report directly to me." She commanded him.
Voldemort snarled in reply, but words were torn from his throat regardless, "Yes, my Lady. I will do as you command."
"Good," Sylvanas replied, handing him a roll of parchment, "these are Nathanos' orders, he will understand once he reads them and direct you to your targets. Now go." She said, dismissing him from her presence.
Voldemort couldn't leave the Undercity faster, the spirit not fighting him until they were outside of the ruins once again. Only then, when Voldemort was desirous to retreat back to the south and possible see if Potter could assist removing this spirit from him, did the creature enforce its own will to hinder him, drawing him to the east as they had been commanded.
Only keeping a tight grasp on his scepter allowed him to maintain a line of control over the body they now shared, after a fashion, and Voldemort knew that he had been marginalized by this undead within him, and it was unlikely that it would release him at any time and allow him to fight against her.
"I will do what has been asked, but as soon as possible I will find a way to destroy you…" he said angrily, turning to the east. But even as he started down the road through the glades, he could tell that the spirit was cackling within him, mocking his ability to do as his own will decided.
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Hermione, Arcane Mage and now devout student of the Holy Light, stood enraptured at the halls of knowledge within the Xenedar. Countless days were spent in those halls, learning from the wise Lightforged that kept and maintained the knowledge contained within.
It was a delight to learn that they were not only wise and powerful priests of the Light, but astute Mages among the Eredar that fought alongside the Army of the Light. It took less than a few months for Hermione to learn their written language, with the assistance of Professor Flitwick and McGonagall, who had originally taught Harry Potter the translation charms he used to learn English.
The subject of Harry was still a sore one for many of the exiled witches and wizards, and even muggles of their old world. That fact that one of their own had willingly betrayed their entire planet to the Legion, and indirectly led to its destruction filled many with anger and hatred.
The Eredar, and many of the other races that assisted the army of the Light, knew this pain all too well, as worked tirelessly to help the humans of earth to let go of their anger, and embrace the light embodied by the Naaru.
It had taken a lot of work, but inevitably many members of the earth-born wizards had become quite accomplished in various forms of magic, particularly that of the Light, but Hermione would still hold true to the power of the Arcane, tempered with the Naaru-blessed command over healing and fire that she had acquired.
Outside of her personal learning and studying the history of the Army of the Light, including the rise of the Legion and the interest that they had in the world of Azeroth, which if she recalled correctly was the same work that Harry sought to return to, she would help strategize the Army's overarching goals and assist with the course that they had to set as the Xenedar flew through the Nether, following the wake of the Legion as they rampaged through space across world after world.
Many times there were close calls, where the battles on the ship or on each planet grew rather dire, and Hermione had to exercise her power over the Light, the Arcane and even her witch's spells in order to assist the Army of the Light in their crusade, and she became a very effective member of their force.
She dealt with Albus and Merlin now as she had longed to as a student at Hogwarts, on par as their equal, rather than a child that had to be sheltered from the horrors of reality. Through this she had learned a sad truth, that legendary people, even those well respected like the pair had been, were still fallible mortals.
The terrible truth of Nobu'tan, Harry's truer name, and how Albus had played a role in driving him from their world was something that tore at her heart once she had learned of it, but in speaking with K'uri, the Naaru that had been on earth and sheltered them through the dark times before the Xenedar arrived, she learned that not everything was as black and white as even the Headmaster thought.
She had known Nobu'tan closely, and while there was indeed a great deal of darkness, even that which he hid from her, she knew the light and goodness that rested in him was real, and that the boy that she had learned with was not an evil monster.
Certainly he was capable of many terrible things, given his track record and those things she learned after the fact, but she also knew the small acts of goodness that he had done, especially in giving the humans of earth the tools to fight against the Legion when they did come, and in effect saving them from total destruction.
Personally, she wanted to believe that he had done so in order to help them, even if it was equally likely that he had done it for selfish reasons, but nevertheless she opted to look at the outcome rather than the intended reasoning.
She had wondered, both privately and aloud during meetings between the leadership of the Army of the Light, whether they ought to seek Azeroth for assistance, as the peoples of that world had apparently beaten the Legion multiple times before, driving back the encroaching onslaught.
However, Turalyon, and by extension Xe'ra, continuously stated that while the denizens of Azeroth were strong indeed, it was not yet the time for their forces to unite, and that the Army of the Light needed to ward away as much of the Legion's probing fingers in other areas of the Nether while they fruitlessly attacked Azeroth, blinding them to their other avenues of attack on all that lived outside of their Burning Crusade.
Then there was the prophecy of the 'Emerald Star,' which the naaru would constantly refer to, and the army sought for, to be their means of ending the Legion forever. What exactly it was, Hermione could not find reference to, but it was clearly something desperately sought for among the countless worlds that they visited.
Hopefully, in due time more light would be shed on that particular point, and they would be able to pinpoint the location of this 'Emerald Star,' and move on to actually fighting back against the Legion in a more aggressive mode.
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Thrall listened intently as the representatives of the Earthen Ring reported their findings from the Searing Gorge. Apparently the disturbance of the elements was as they had sensed; the defeat of the Firelord, Rangos, by a powerful clan of orcs that had united the Dark Horde into a more cohesive and efficient unit, and drove out the Dark Iron dwarves completely from the region, fortifying and securing the mountain and the lands around it for their own use.
What they were up to in the meantime, they could not decipher, as the shaman had not wanted to risk any of the Horde warriors that accompanied them in a potential suicide mission, and Thrall did not blame them in the slightest. He would much rather allow the Dark Lady Sylvanas to use her bat riders and fly over the dark lands to discover any plans that these potential foes were plotting.
What was more, the Earthen Ring reported that the current state of the elements around the mountain was indeed tainted heavily by the presence of Fel energy, indicating a resurgence of warlocks in the area openly practicing their arts and vile magic.
This was by far the most worrying of the information they had to bring. If warlocks, particular those of the ancient Stormreaver clan had indeed returned to the Dark Horde, then the likelihood of an unexpected attack was very high.
While he had already done what he could, in sending warning to Stormwind via Jaina, there were a few other options that he, and the Horde, could do to try and prevent a massive demonic invasion from spewing forth from those black mountains.
Turning to Saurfang, Thrall spoke quickly, "I want a reinforced garrison sent to Grom'gol Base Camp in Stranglethorn Vale, if the word is sent for them to marshal, I want them with all haste to march on the Burning Steppes, word will be delivered if it becomes necessary for them to bypass the human settlements unharmed and unmolested."
"Yes, Warchief," Varok said, relaying the orders to another of the Kor'kron, who hastily departed the Hold to send word about to the various garrisons in Durotar. If he guessed what the old Blackrock orc had told the subordinate, Thrall wouldn't be surprised that a full-scale army was about to be dispatched to stand ready for the potential attack from Blackrock Mountain.
"Furthermore, I want word sent to Sylvanas, as she and her Forsaken are our only allies fully entrenched on the continent, that they will need to be ready for war if the Dark Hordes starts to mount any sort of aggressive movements toward us or the Alliance." Thrall added to the room at large, directed primarily at the Forsaken mages that stood nearest the entrance.
At the shocked looks on many of the orcish faces, he elaborated, "I will not tolerate our desperately won fight at Hyjal to be lost so easily simply because we are no longer direct allies with the humans."
Many nodded, understanding that their Warchief was thinking of the safety of their world as a whole, not simply the notions of the Horde over the Alliance at this point, and Thrall was glad that the message got across to the majority of them with such ease. It would be most irritating if they had to battle with their own over the politics of aiding the Alliance against a mutual foe simply because of old hatreds.
Any possibility of the Burning Legion regaining footing on their world was not to be tolerated, and if the Stormreavers sought to pave the way for their demon masters once more, they would be met immediately with the forces of the Horde, with steel and the elements themselves ready to fight to the bitter end, hopefully with the Alliance at their side.
He honestly would that it not come to that, but there was no hope in wishing that such things would be and not preparing for the worst.
Perhaps it was time that the Horde started to look for new allies in order to face this new threat, Thrall speculated. Thinking of recent events, he recalled that Sylvanas had highly recommended reaching out the struggling remnants of Silvermoon, her former people.
Thrall was hesitant; however, to offer aid to a people that were once allied with the Horde's enemies. But in the light of a major threat in the dead center of the continent then having more allies to reinforce the Undercity would benefit the Horde as a whole.
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Nobu'tan was quite delighted over the Horde's recent victories, expanding their territory and realm of influence. The timber from the Arathi Highlands that wasn't being used for ships and the construction of the new shipyard at Stromgarde was being transported carefully through Fel portals down to Rockard, the fortress in the Blasted Lands having been renamed to is former title by Nobu'tan himself.
Meanwhile, mines and quarries had been started in that desolate region, as well as under Blackrock Mountain, in order to move stone to the north to aid repairs the fortifications of the once human fortress city.
VanCleef had made contact once more, and stated that his people would be arriving at the edges of the Burning Steppes within the week, and Lucius had been tasked with setting the masons to work, as well as facilitating their payment in gold from their reserves in the mountain.
Draco had sent word that he was taking an extended leave of absence as he worked alongside his mother in Stormwind, and Nobu'tan had allowed it, knowing that his closest ally and friend among the human survivors of their world had done more than enough to merit the time requested.
All in all, things were progressing smoothly, aside from the curious disappearance of Voldemort, but even if the old Death Knight had gone and gotten himself killed, there were means that Nobu'tan could raise him from death again and again, much like Teron Gorefiend had been returned by his master Gul'dan.
High in his personal chambers in Blackrock Mountain, Nobu'tan's thoughts often returned to his former master, even as he poured over a very specialized and detailed map of Azeorth, that he himself had been adding details to as he discovered them via his spies or from surveillance from eyes of Kil'rogg.
While the main part of their current struggle was on the Eastern Kingdoms, he had to start turning his attention to the west, and the large body of land called Kalimdor. The renegade factions that had formed their own Horde out of the ashes of Doomhammer's rule were there, and that alone made constituting a spy operation very difficult, especially with the news that Blaise had returned regarding the shaman leader of the orcs there, and his wisdom in discovering Bliase's presence, and his loyalties, in short order.
The only sense of weakness was the orc's mercy, which was expressed in releasing Blaise back to Nobu'tan, something that the orc-raised human would have certainly not done if he was in the shaman's position.
Still, sending Blaise back to the continent had been something he desperately wanted to do, in order to try and find a way to not only disrupt the Shadow Council operating in the northern forests of that place but also locate any possible faction of Horde forces that were not allied with this Thrall and his people, and recruit them for the true Horde.
Nobu'tan wondered if his own presence would be required there, and mused how best he would have to conduct himself if such a requirement was pressed by those that Blaise sought to recruit, if any members of the old Horde could be found that is.
Most of the remaining clans that still followed the old ways had been subverted by the Shadow Council and the Legion, and therefore were of little use to him directly, as to use them against the Legion would be difficult at best, and downright suicidal at worst.
Still, even in the event that such a merging of another group into the might of the Horde was not possible, they would have a fleet of their own in due time, and cross the ocean themselves to set up a base on Kalimdor.
That was not even the beginning of his plans, regarding the sea. Nobu'tan knew what his master had been after, the Tomb of Sargaras somewhere in the midst of the broken isles that lay close to the center of the ocean. The Legion destroyed his master for trying to take the power within for himself, but Nobu'tan was on a path of pure revenge, and he would use the power of the Tomb against the Legion, whatever form it might happen to take.
Mercifully, he was on a much longer schedule than Gul'dan when the old orc set out for the isle, and there would be few capable of stopping Nobu'tan or even predicting his move as he ventured for the ruins.
"Lord Nobu'tan." An orc said from the entryway to his personal chambers, and the middle aged warlock turned, his disguise fully in place, and barked at the orc to speak and step forward so he could be seen.
The scout was young, not quite at the age that he would have been admitted into the frontline fighters, but still nimble enough to be a runner of messages. "Our spies report that a large group of orcs and others will soon start to amass in the jungles to the south from across the sea. They do not seem to be marshalling for outright war, but their numbers will be large enough that they could pose a threat to us if they attacked…"
The orc shifted nervously under the gaze of the grand warlock of the Stormreaver Clan, but Nobu'tan said nothing. He was personally curious as to who their spy might be that had this information, and wondered if this was Lucius' doing. The old wizard was crafty, and probably found a way to get someone inside the orcish capital without their knowledge, who would report what was going on there…
"What are your orders?" the orc scout pressed slightly, clearly wanted to be sent away as swiftly as possible.
"Nothing," Nobu'tan said, shooing the scout away, quickly returning to the confines of his chambers and consulting several of the magical items that he had specially prepared for the purpose of watching areas far away.
It was not particularly useful to use only the Eye of Kil'rogg for everything, as it left the caster mostly defenseless as he viewed things from afar; therefore, Nobu'tan had crafted items that were magically bound to eyes that could be used over and over, even by those who did not possess the Fel themselves: mirrors, orbs, and other objects that one could peer into.
Utilizing one of these now, he watched as the conjured orb flew to the south, bypassing the green lands of the Kingdom of Stormwind, and its surrounding territories, and into the wild jungles of Stranglethorn.
Sure enough, at the false Horde's encampment there, a large number of warriors were slowly amassing, with more coming from their flying machines to join their ranks with every arrival. "The fools think to challenge me?" Nobu'tan asked himself, quickly tallying the notion of the combined force versus his own. As it stood, these foes stood no chance against his combined allies, nor his ability to move his troops with great ease due to the Fel portals, but he would wish to avoid a direct confrontation at this present time if possible.
If south was slowly being blocked off to him, then he would have little choice but to expand to the north, and claim more territory from Stromgarde, expanding that region out for their direct control. Dispelling that eye, and taking up another devise, he gazed to the north, the tiny orb flying speedily over land, mountain and water to its destination.
The lush grasslands of Arathi were potentially very useful to his forces, despite Nobu'tan personal dislike of the greenery; they would have need of the farmland to feed their armies, as well as the glades for more timber.
The bases for both the Stromgarde refugees and a sizeable presence of the other Horde were concerning however, but if they could be eliminated or pushed out, then there were well placed defenses for the entire region already waiting to be taken and repaired. The massive wall to the northwest, as well as the titanic bridges leading south could easily be defended by a limited number of warriors, and hold for a long time in the event of a siege.
Currently, Teg'Ramm was overseeing the repairs of the fortress, as well as the division of their forces in that region, before the ogre mage was to return to his personal fortress in Rockard, but Nobu'tan may countermand that order to devise an expansionary expedition there swifter than he had anticipated. The other Horde's Warchief was forcing his hand, and there needed to be some sort of action taken, and soon.
Curiously, as he prepared to dismiss this second eye, something caught his attention to the far north, a flare of magic that Nobu'tan recognized as arcane in nature, but quite unlike anything he had previously encountered, almost as though something large was slowly preparing to make an appearance.
When nothing immediately made itself known, Nobu'tan shrugged it off, and dismissed the eye, but mentally he made a note to keep track of movement to the far north of Arathi. If something large and flying was approaching, he would want to know. Dragons could be dangerous and unpredictable at times, but even with that in mind, he wasn't sure if that was what he had spotted.
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Anduin looked from atop the small horse at the surrounding beauty of Elwynn Forest. Only a few days after Draco had agreed to be his faithful ally and spy in the court, just to make sure that nothing unexpected was happening in Stormwind, he had finally taken up his father's offer to go and visit the outermost villages of the realm, beginning with Goldshire and then heading east.
Lakeshire seemed to have been clamoring for protection the most as of late, and Varian had wished to see to their defenses personally, to make sure that everything possible was being taken care of in light of the new taxes that he was considering placing upon the people. Anduin did not agree. They had sufficient funds to be able to protect their people, as well as manpower with the knights of Stormwind, many of which even now rode with them for their personal protection as they traveled.
The prince found it mightily unnecessary, but Lady Prestor had insisted, and she was with them even now. At the least he had Draco accompanying him, astride his own horse, not far away and keeping watchful eyes on not only their surroundings, but the group within the phalanx of knights as well.
Anduin was not sure what was going on, but his father, whom he remembered to be a very outspoken and self-reliant man before, had returned very much submissive to the ideas of Lady Prestor, and more than willing to take her advice into account on all matters, with the exception of Anduin himself.
Still, it was disconcerting that the king would return so very different than before, almost as though he was under a spell, and that was why Anduin wanted to make sure that there were always some pair of eyes, wiser than his own, watching his father and Lady Prestor, making sure that his fears were only the worries of a young boy and not something greater.
Suddenly, something struck his mount, and the horse reared, neighing wildly and trying to throw Anduin form the saddle, snapping the boy-prince out of his thoughts.
Trying in vain to control his mount, Anduin felt himself falling as the horse threw him, and he braced himself for impact with the hard ground, but it never came.
Muscled arms caught him, even as another voice shouted something, and a flash of light tore through the undergrowth.
Anduin blinked, looking up at his father's worried face. The King had thrown himself from his own horse to catch his son, and Anduin marveled at how his father had gone more than out of his way, when there were others closer and more able to help Anduin.
More spells and flashes exploded, accompanied by a sharp cry of pain, which snapped the royals out of their moment, even as Draco returned, dragging a man behind him, whose face was covered from view.
"Your Majesty," Draco said, throwing the man on his face before the pair of them, "this ungrateful scoundrel was responsible for attempting to harm the prince."
Anduin could see the change in his father's face as he glowered down at the man who had threatened him, and the poor man flinched on the ground under the hard stare of his sovereign.
"Take this man away, and put him in the stockades…" Varian said slowly, shocking Anduin, who had momentarily thought that his father would wish for a stricter punishment right there on the road.
"As you wish, your Majesty" the knights replied, hauling the man away, and Varian set Anduin back on his feet.
"Are you all right, my son?" Varian asked quietly.
"Yes," Anduin said, just as softly. His father gave him a long look before turning away to speak with Highlord Bolvar, and in that moment Anduin decided that his father was exactly who he claimed to be. The love that he showed Anduin was real.
But at the same time, glancing at the unhappy face of Lady Prestor, the prince was not convinced that everything was as it seemed.
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Onyxia silently fumed as she saw the slow turn of power away from her grasp.
At first she had thought that it would merely be that influential woman, Lady Malfoy, sticking her nose into places that it did not belong, but now everything seemed on the edge of collapse around her.
The woman's son was even more invasive and ravenous for rooting out the truth than his mother ever was. What was worse, Oynxia had no authority to dismiss the young man even if she was inclined to, as he had gone and made himself the prince's guardian and tutor, allowing him to be underfoot at all times, asking questions when the Broodmother wanted no such things asked.
But even now, it was quickly becoming clear that Anduin had all the power of the royal family, controlling Varian's heart, and therefore was able to supersede even Onyxia's ability to manipulate the king.
On top of all of that, word had finally reached her that Lo'Gosh had vanished, and the black dragon had nothing but worry regarding when or if the other half of King Varian would show up.
It was drawing back to her initial fears regarding her plan, which had been exacerbated when she learned that her brother had died, and she was starting to suspect that she would not be able to rely on the Stormreavers, and their leader Nobu'tan to protect her in the event of when, and she was convinced that it would happen in due time, she was found out.
She currently had no plan but her initial one in the event that she was revealed, to take the boy-prince and flee, ransoming the child's life for her own. She didn't like it, or what the repercussions would be, but if it came to that, she would follow through, and lead the attention of Stormwind away from Blackrock Mountain and her children, hopefully escaping in the fallout and making her own way back to watch over her brood.
Still, with the way that Anduin and his tutor, this Draco Malfoy, watched her; it was almost as though they anticipated that she would attempt something of this nature. That was why she had urged the Defias into attempting to attack the prince through the masked assailant, hoping that it would solidify the love between father and son, and put the prince's mind at ease, so that everything would mull over and allow her to reestablish her control.
Clearly, they were not to be dissuaded however, and she now had to create alternative plans if and when the inevitable occurred. Luckily, most of the palace guards had been replaced with her own dragonkin guards. Somehow, Onyxia didn't think they would be enough; however, just thinking of the display of unknown magic that the young male Malfoy displayed in subduing the Defias member that had startled the prince's horse.
Still, until they returned to Stormwind, she would act indifferent of the events for now, and simply smile as father and son toured their outermost settlements to remind the people that the royal family were aware of their plights and cared about their meaningless mortal lives.
Hours later, and finally the King and his son decided to return to the keep, and Onyxia couldn't have been inwardly happier to hear it. She had no care for the humans of this kingdom. At this point she was simply working to survive a situation that her brother had thrust her into for his own power, such power that had availed him nothing in the face of the Stormreaver Clan, who now were the greatest threat that faced Stormwind.
In Lakeshire, Varian had promised that their armies would be used to keep the attackers out of their lands, even though Onyxia knew that the Dark Horde was focusing their efforts to the north, and it was the dwarves that were dealing with the main attacks of the orcs there rather than the humans.
Moreover, she had heard of the amassing of soldiers in Stranglethorn, as the Horde across the sea brought many troops in the event that the Dark Horde ventured south. It would be a possible tactic that she could use to further the animosity between the Horde and the Alliance.
In fact, that was exactly what she would do, Onyxia mused. Pitting the two powerful factions against each other was part of the original plan, and how better to achieve it now than to provoke a war right on the front door of Stormwind, and slip out in the chaos.
It would take time to figure out a suitable trigger to make the Horde push upwards however, as the Broodmother doubted that she would have influence enough to make the Dark Horde antagonize their Kalimdor cousins so easily. Nevertheless, she would find a way.
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Jaina stood in an upper chamber of her tower on Theramore Isle, hastily thinking over the most troubling events that had just occurred over the past weeks.
Shortly after her return from Stormwind, she learned from her chamberlain, formerly the Magna Aegwynn, of the arrival of a strange band of travelers, namely a blood elf named Valeera, a Night elf druid named Broll, and a human gladiator who only went by Lo'Gosh.
But the strange turn of events only grew more bizarre when Aegwynn and Jaina used their power over the arcane to peer into the locked mind of the amnesiac, only to discover that the man was in fact King Varian Wrynn.
When or how the king had ended up in this state, Jaina did not find out, and the king took the first ship he could find to Menethil Harbor, in order to travel to down to Ironforge and from there back to Stormwind.
While she felt that she ought to have done something to prevent Varian from acting so rashly, Jaina had found that whatever had happened with the king had made him even more reckless and arrogant than before.
"There was little that you could have done to stop him, child." Aegwynn said, looking up from the tome she was consulting regarding a different matter.
"I know, it's just frustrating," Jaina replied, looking out across the island.
But something was distracting her, even from Varian's departure. There was a different trace of magic in the air, something foul compared to the touch of Arcane that swirled about the island.
"The Fel is present. There is a warlock among the populace…" Aegwynn said, standing from her chair and moving slowly to join Jaina at the window.
"I sense that, but why…" Jaina asked. Surely there were warlocks that had passed through Theramore many times before, but it was strange that she could sense this particular amount of the Fel greater than before.
"I have sensed such level of power before in a mortal," Aegwynn mentioned, looking out across the rooftops of Theramore, "It is the same as someone who had set foot on a Legion controlled world, and returned afterward, with greater power and connection to the demons than before."
Jaina widened her eyes at the pronouncement, a mortal leaving their world. "A survivor of Draenor perhaps?" she asked, but Aegwynn was already shaking her head.
"The orcish home world was no bastion of the Legion," she explained, "I speak of somewhere far deeper in their net, out in the wilds of the Nether; the primary hub world of the Legion. Few who went there ever returned, and those that did were never the same."
"How so?" Jaina asked, growing anxious at the bleak attitude that the former Guardian of Tirisfal.
"Various ways…" Aegwynn stated, "mostly revolving around their increase powers over the Fel, and a heightened sense for demonic activity around them."
"And what world is this that the Legion hail from?" Jaina pressed further, taking the opportunity to speak of a topic that her mentor and friend rarely spoke of.
"I never knew what the world was called, but it is highly respected by all demons, and it is where they reform when slain in battle outside of the confines of the Nether." She explained before changing the topic, "your warlock out there is leaving into the swamp, it would be wise to have them followed. Anyone that has had that much contact with the Legion, to be permitted on their world is dangerous, and out to be monitored."
"I agree, I'll have several mages keep a close watch from a safe distance, and find out where who it is, and what they are up to." Jaina added, taking up her staff and turning to depart.
"Be careful child," Aegwynn counseled as Jaina started toward the door, "anyone who has been on that hellish world will be steeped in the power of the Legion, and not one to trifle with. Even at the height of my power those who had been a challenge to battle."
"I will instruct them to not engage, simply monitor this individual and report back as swiftly as possible," Jaina affirmed, darting down the tower to find some of her most trusted mages. As the greatest apprentice of Antonidas, she had a great renown with those of Dalaran who had come with her to Theramore, and they respected her wisdom and direction.
If they were not able to keep track of a single individual while remaining discrete, no matter where that led them, then there would be few else that she could trust to handle such a dangerous mission aside from taking it herself, and that was not possible with her other responsibilities among the Alliance, especially with the storm about to descend on Stormwind.
