Illidan (27 page)

I
llidan stood at the head of the great map table in the council chamber of the Black Temple. His advisers came and went, along with messengers bearing the latest news. The blood elves of his council argued with Akama and with Vandel and the other leaders of the demon hunters.

Illidan rubbed his temples just below the horns. He had almost recovered the strength the spirit journey to Argus had cost him, and he could not let up yet. He needed to keep pressing on, to take advantage of what he had found out. He needed to face Kil'jaeden, and soon, before the Deceiver got wind of his plans and made ready for him. He was so deep in thought that it took him some time to realize that Lady Malande was speaking to him.

“What is your command, Lord Illidan?” Malande was insistent. There was a note of urgency to her voice that demanded attention. Illidan turned his eyeless gaze on her in a way he knew to be discomfiting to those who lacked his spectral vision.

“Concerning what?” Illidan said. He allowed his irritation to show.

“About Coilfang Reservoir. The news is not good. Lady Vashj has been overthrown and the great pumps have been shut down.”

Coilfang Reservoir.
Images of a vast pumping station full of magical engines leapt into his mind. He pictured miles of pipes running through gigantic underground caves. He thought about Vashj's plan to gain control of all the waters in Outland. It had seemed important once, but with events racing ahead so quickly, it was hardly worth dealing with. He had more urgent things to worry about.

“What would you have us do, Lord Illidan?” Gathios the Shatterer asked. He stroked his chin with one gauntleted hand. “The Alliance and Horde have established bridgeheads in Hellfire Peninsula. They have sacked Hellfire Citadel and destroyed Magtheridon. Should we strike back?”

Illidan considered the paladin's question—what was there to do? The Azerothians had done more than engage the Burning Legion. They had taken one of the greatest Illidari fortresses. It was just the latest in a long string of setbacks. This one would cost him dearly in the long run. Without the pit lord's blood, there would be no more fel orcs for his legions.

Except the long run no longer mattered. Things would be settled soon, and they would not be settled in Outland but on Argus. He had the true location of Kil'jaeden's homeworld, but he had found it in spirit form. Now he needed to be able to transport an army there in the flesh. It would take power to open such a portal, vast amounts of power. Only one source of such was available to him. He would need to use souls, and far more of those than had been used to open the way to Nathreza.

Gathios loomed at his full height. He banged his chest plate with one mighty fist. “Lord Illidan, what should we do? The Alliance and the Horde are expanding on all fronts. They engage our forces as well as the Burning Legion's. Should we withdraw to the Black Temple? Should we stand firm and throw them back?”

It seemed that Illidan's hope that the Azerothians would focus on the Burning Legion had been a deluded one. Their hatred for him was so great they were prepared to ignore the larger threat. Kruul must have known they were as vengeance-crazed as Maiev Shadowsong when he lured them into invading Outland. Well, Illidan had made the doomguard pay for that. Someday soon he must visit Maiev and show her exactly how unhappy he was with her, too.

But he did not have time for any of this now. The fate of existence rested on his shoulders.

“Do what is necessary,” Illidan told Gathios. He scattered the tokens on the map with a sweep of his claw. “Other matters demand my attention.”

An appalled silence filled the council chamber. All gazes turned to him, expecting leadership. He had made a mistake. He still needed his people to have faith in him, to follow him to the final battle. Illidan leaned on the map table and looked at each one in turn—the demon hunter leaders, Akama, Gathios, the rest of his council, all of the others.

“We are fighting a war to preserve all existence from the fury of the Burning Legion,” he said. “It does not matter whether we hold Outland for a few more years. Once the Legion regroups, it can bring overwhelming force against us. What happens here and now is no longer important save as it bears upon the true struggle.”

The silence deepened. The demon hunters nodded. They had shared his vision. They knew what the Burning Legion truly was. They understood the magnitude of the threat it represented. The others looked unsure. Fury filled Illidan's heart. He wanted to lash out, to strike their uncomprehending faces.

He drew himself back from the brink, tried to look at things as they might. They saw only the fiefdoms they ruled, the power they held, slipping from their grasp. They feared for their lives, as if those lives could have any meaning in the face of the cosmic threat of the Legion. They did not understand that victory here on Outland merely preserved their lives for a few more months or years. The end was coming for them all, unless Kil'jaeden was defeated, unless the Burning Legion was destroyed.

It was not their fault that they saw only the smallest details of the overall picture. He had never really troubled himself to convince them otherwise. He had relied on their ambitions, their greed, the things he could offer them to keep them loyal. It was time he let the others know how things stood.

“We need to take the war to Kil'jaeden,” he said.

“You have said this before, Lord,” said Akama, “and of course we all agree.” His tone and the looks of the advisers scattered around the room made it clear that they did anything but agree. “But surely we must keep our bases secure so that we can launch our great attack.”

Illidan shook his head, and he knew he had their complete focused attention now. “We need keep our bases secure only so long as it takes to open the way to Argus.”

Akama looked at him as if caught somewhere between horror and awe. “You are ready to reclaim the original home of my people?”

“I am. I wish to see the ones defiling it dead, finally and forever,” Illidan said. “And I know how to do that.”

“My people fled from there millennia ago. It fell to those who allied with Sargeras, to the followers of Archimonde and Kil'jaeden. It must lie a thousand worlds in the distance, through a thousand portals.”

High Nethermancer Zerevor smirked as if he already knew the answer. Veras Darkshadow listened in silence. Illidan sensed growing excitement among his demon hunters.

“If we followed the paths along which the draenei fled, that would be true,” said Illidan. “I propose a more direct route.”

“You plan on opening a portal through the Twisting Nether all the way to Argus? Forgive me for saying so, Lord, but that is impossible.”

“Not impossible, Akama, merely extremely difficult. I can open the way there. Anything is possible using magic when you have a sufficient concentration of power and knowledge.”

Akama appeared to be doing a quick calculation in his head. “There is no such concentration of power except the sort you used to get to Nathreza.”

Illidan nodded, encouraging Akama to continue with his line of thought.

Vandel surprised Illidan by speaking up. “Is it worth it, Lord? Can we truly end the Burning Legion's threat?”

Illidan glanced from face to face. The truth was that he did not know. He was only making a leap in the dark. Perhaps the Legion was invincible. Perhaps killing Kil'jaeden would make no difference. Of one thing he was certain, though.

“I have dwelled on that question for ten thousand years and more, Vandel,” he said. “Since first I made contact with Sargeras, since the first time I truly understood what the Burning Legion was.”

He paused for a moment, recollecting that. He had been shown the same vision he had shared with the demon hunters, only a hundred times more vividly. It had been meant to convince him that the Legion was invincible, that it was pointless to oppose the will of Sargeras, that the best and only thing he could do was join the Legion and have a say in the remaking of the universe.

His mind had not crumbled, though. He had remained who he was. He had taken what he had seen and used it to motivate himself through all the long centuries of opposition. He had had plenty of time to dwell on such things, he thought bitterly.

“I was imprisoned for ten thousand years. In those ten millennia I was not idle. I considered everything I had learned about the Legion. I ran through every possible way of opposing it. All the ways anyone could oppose it. That was why I had joined the Legion. I sought to learn all that I could about it. I gave up everything for that knowledge. I know more about the Burning Legion than any living creature save perhaps its rulers, if you wish to count them among the living. I learned many things but they all boil down to one stark and terrible fact.

“I learned that there is no way that the Legion can be defeated by simply waiting for it to come to you.

“The Legion is too strong. If you turn it back once, it will return. If you turn it back a thousand times, it will return. And every time, it will be stronger. Its commanders will have learned from their mistakes. Its generals will be prepared for your strategies.

“They are immortal. Their souls cannot be destroyed in most places. They can be merely thrown back into the Twisting Nether. Eventually they are reborn there, with all the knowledge of their previous lives. Imagine fighting a warrior who, every time you kill him, comes back. And this warrior remembers the trick you used to defeat him previously, and returns prepared for it. Eventually you run out of tricks. You run out of luck. That is why the Legion cannot be beaten on Azeroth. The spirits of demons can only be destroyed in the Twisting Nether, in places where it bleeds into the world of mortals, or in places utterly saturated with the demonic energies of the Burning Legion. Nathreza was one such place. Argus is another.

“There have been those who thought they had defeated the Burning Legion. Dreadlords stride through the ashes of their worlds. Infernals desecrate the tombs of their children. You cannot beat the Legion by fighting it on its terms. In the end you can only lose.

“There is only one way of winning: to assault the Burning Legion where it can be destroyed. It is a slim chance, but it is our only one. We do not have a choice. All we can do is stand and wait to die, or we can take the war to Sargeras and his minions. We will destroy the lieutenants who motivate the Legion's forces. We will slay Kil'jaeden, and Archimonde, too, if he has been reborn. Sargeras needs commanders to control his soldiers. Without them, the eredar will fall to fighting among one another, and piecemeal may be destroyed.”

Akama and most of Illidan's other advisers stared, in horror and in wonder. The demon hunters merely nodded. “I will take this war to Argus. You!” Illidan swept his arm about the room, gesturing to the assembled tattooed fighters. “All of you claimed you wanted to take your vengeance on the Burning Legion. I am offering you the greatest chance anyone has ever had to do that. We will take demon lives as a reaper takes wheat, and we will kill their commanders in a place from which they cannot return. All of you have proved yourselves worthy to accompany me.”

He let that sink in. He was not asking them to accompany him. He was telling them that they were worthy, and it was the truth. He saw them, one by one, nod their agreement.

“Go now. Tell the others. Prepare for the opening of the way to Argus.”

“Where are you going?” Akama asked. His voice was little more than a hoarse whisper. He tugged at the tendrils on his chin, appalled.

“To a place where there are many souls waiting for dissolution. To Auchindoun.”

“The mausoleum of the draenei, Lord? But it is sacred.”

Illidan focused his attention on Akama. Had there been a note of rebelliousness in his voice? “Not to me, faithful Akama.”

Akama lowered his head slowly. His shoulders slumped. Illidan knew he did not like what was going on, but for the sake of his own soul and those of his people, he would have to accept it. “As you say, Lord.”