The Sundering (45 page)

Flailing, the druid suddenly tumbled loose over a new threat. Below, filling the abrupt void left by the Well’s apocalyptic hunger, came the seas of Kalimdor. Great waves a thousand feet high crashed against one another, hundreds of tons of water pouring each second into what had been the middle of the continent.

Krasus watched, awestruck, as the Sundering came to a crashing end and the Great Sea formed.

Yet, although taken by the sight, he did not forget Malfurion and the Demon Soul. With the Well had gone the last of its untamed and turbulent energies. Now, Krasus had full command of his power
…

But before he could use it, a magnificent giant of bronze appeared from nowhere, a huge male dragon who glittered despite the remnants of the gloom still overshadowing the sky.

“Nozdormu!” the mage uttered.

The Aspect of Time swooped down, catching both the night elf and the disk. He soared quickly toward Alexstrasza and Ysera, but his golden gaze was for Krasus alone.

“Just in Time…” was all the male rumbled. Then, he flew past them, heading toward Mount Hyjal with Malfurion and the disk still clutched in one huge paw.

The other Aspects immediately banked, following. Krasus watched Nozdormu fly on as if nothing at all had happened to the world.

The mage finally shook his head and, for the first time since being cast into the past, breathed easier.

The survivors of the host did not breathe easier, not yet, for although they began to recognize the end of the danger, they also knew that their world had been forever altered. Many simply stared hollow-eyed at the new sea. The waters were already stilling, the waves beginning to lap gently at the ravaged shoreline.

So many had lost loved ones. The repercussions would only just begin materializing over the weeks and months—even years—to come. One of those who understood it best was Jarod Shadowsong. Despite his own shaken soul, he kept on a face of determination for his people. Even the nobles for the most part turned to him in need of reassurance. From those who seemed more steadfast, such as Blackforest, he appointed commanders to oversee the requirements of the host.

Mount Hyjal became a rallying point, for it remained untouched by the war and disaster that had followed. Jarod ordered banners made with the peak as their centerpiece, a new flag for a new beginning.

Aid came to the night elves from the tauren and others less affected by the ruination of Kalimdor. All had suffered, but no one’s home had been so utterly destroyed as had that of Jarod’s race. He greatly accepted the help of Huln’s people and was glad to see that there were few incidents of prejudice from the other night elves toward outside assistance. How long that would last would depend on the future of the refugees. They no longer had their elegant and extraordinary cities—their cities with the huge, living tree homes and magically-sculpted landscapes reserved only for themselves—from which to look down upon all else. In fact, most no longer even had roofs over their heads, the number of tents in very short supply. Jarod had donated his own tent to younger refugees orphaned by the ordeal.

Unfortunately, it did not take long for the first threat to the stability of the host to rear its ugly head. With the Well no more, the rest of the night elves did not fear the High-borne as they once had. Muttering began to grow among the refugees, muttering which intensified the more the High-borne made themselves visible.

“You’ll have a new war on your hands,
”
Krasus advised him.
“
You need to quell this now.
”

“Some will never forget the horrors wrought upon us by their actions.” Jarod’s gaze shifted off toward the new waters. Below it lay the ruins of his own lost Suramar.
“
Never.
”

The pale figure confronted him.
“
You must put aside the differences, Jarod Shadowsong, if you wish your people to survive!
”

Steeling himself, Jarod summoned the nobles and other ranking members of the host. He also called forth Dath’Remar Sunstrider and the seniormost Highborne. The two factions met him under the old banner of Lord Ravencrest, which Jarod used as a substitute until the new ones could be finished. Krasus had suggested this last, both of them aware that the reputation of the late noble was one that had been respected by both the aristocracy and palace alike.

“We are here under protest,” Blackforest growled, eyeing the robed figures. His gauntleted hand rested on the pommel of his sword. “And will not long abide such foul company…”

Dath’Remar sniffed disdainfully, but said nothing. His opinion of the nobles was clear enough.

“Haven’t you learned anything from all this?
”
snapped Jarod. He gestured toward the sea.
“
Isn’t that enough to put an end to animosities? Do you both intend to finish what the demons began?
”

“And what these willingly assisted in!” pointed out another noble.

“We make no excuses for what we did,” Dath’Remar returned defiantly.
“
But we tried to make amends. Did you never wonder why the full portal took so long to come to fruition? We risked ourselves to keep it from doing so under the very eye of the demon lord! We sought to rescue the high priestess of Elune and many of us perished fighting the Burning Legion ourselves!
”

“Not enough!”

“May I speak?”

A group of Elune’s followers joined the fray, Tyrande Whisperwind and Jarod’s sister at the forefront. Maiev looked uncommonly subdued in the high priestess’s presence and Jarod could understand that. There was something about the young female that immediately eased his heart.

Everyone bent down on one knee, but Tyrande, an embarrassed frown appearing, gestured for them to rise. Jarod bowed slightly, then said,
“
By all means, the voice of the Mother Moon may speak whenever she so desires.
”

Tyrande nodded gratefully, then, to the assembled parties, she said,
“
Our world will never be the same. That which we were we are no more.
”
Her expression grew solemn.
“
We are in flux. What our people are to become, I cannot say, but it will likely be nothing akin to what we once were.
”

Uneasy rumbling rose from both the nobles and the Highborne. The words of the high priestess were not to be taken lightly.

“We have survived this struggle, but, if we do not come together, we may not survive our own evolution. Consider this before you begin resurrecting old enmities…”

And with that, Tyrande turned. Maiev eyed her brother with what Jarod realized was confidence in him.

As his sister followed Tyrande, he saw that Shandris Feathermoon had been standing behind her. The departing novice gave Jarod an unabashed smile that made him more uncomfortable than the presence of the nobles and the sorcerers, yet, at the same time added to the lightening of his heart.

Blackforest cleared his throat. Jarod quickly returned to the matter at hand.
“
You’ve heard the voice of the Mother Moon and I couldn’t agree more with her words. What say you?
”

Blackforest opened his mouth, but Dath’Remar managed to answer before the armored aristocrat could utter a sound.
“
We greatly respect the word of the high priestess and will do what we can to make further amends for our past transgressions
…
if we will be permitted the opportunity by our august companions.
”

The lead noble let out a grunt.
“
We will do no less. If the Highborne have seen the error of their ways, we will accept their return to the fold and welcome their effort as we all seek to rebuild our home.
”

Both answers were spoken with some lingering animosity, but it was the best that Jarod could hope for at this point. There would be confrontations ahead, but perhaps none that would drag his people down to oblivion.

“I thank you all for coming and for seeing reason. Let us now begin to consider how best to take advantage of the miracle that’s let us survive.
”

Several voices from both factions began speaking at once, each trying to come up with better ideas than the others. Jarod grimaced, then started trying to pick out the best ones.

One immediately caught his attention.
“
Water!
”
he interrupted. Something that had been reported to him by a scout came to mind. A lake at the very top of Hyjal. It was worth investigating. He decided to do so himself, though, if only to gain some reprieve from all his other responsibilities.
“
Lord Blackforest! I’d like three volunteers from among you! I’ve a short excursion in mind
…”
To Dath’Remar, he added,
“
From your group, too
…”

As they chose from among themselves, Jarod congratulated himself. The excursion would also be a good opportunity to force the parties to work together. It was a safe, quiet event, but one, because of the importance of water, that would resound well among his people. If the nobles and sorcerers reported the findings together, the rest would see that cooperation was possible.

Jarod fought back a smile. Perhaps he was finally learning about leadership after all
…

“Malfurion…”

The druid tore his gaze from the new sea.
“
Master Krasus.
”

The dragon mage grimaced.
“
Equals need no title between one another. Please, for the last time, I am merely Krasus.
”

“I will try.” Unconsciously, Malfurion took a step back from his friend. “Did you want something?”

“No…but they do.
”

A great beating of wings filled the night elf’s ears. Dust arose around him and suddenly three gargantuan forms alighted behind the cowled figure.

Alexstrasza. Ysera. Nozdormu.

“You know why we have come,” the red female said softly.

Malfurion’s hand slipped to the pouch at his side.
“
You want it. You want the Soul.
”

“The Demon Soul,
”
Krasus corrected.
“
You forgot to give it over to the Aspects once we landed. The heat of the moment, no doubt.
”

“Yes…yes…” The druid’s hand thrust into the pouch. His fingers encircled the disk, caressing it in the process. Why did he have to give it up? Had he not proven that he had the right to it? Had he not singlehandedly used it to rid Kalimdor of not one menace, but two?

“Malfurion…”

If they felt that they deserved it more than him, why did he not just make them try to take it? Between his own skills and the power of the Soul, he could surely slay them all—

Disgust filled the druid. He quickly drew the damnable disk from its hiding place, then held it out for the mage to take.

Krasus nodded.
“
I knew you would make the correct decision.
”
Yet, he did not accept the Demon Soul directly, instead pointing to the ground.
“
Please place it there.
”

Brow arched in curiosity, Malfurion obeyed. The moment that the disk left his grasp, he felt as if a tremendous weight lifted from his back.

“Step away, please.”

When the night elf had obeyed, Krasus faced the three Aspects.
“
Will your power be enough?
”

“It will have to be,” replied Nozdormu.

The trio arched their necks, bringing their colossal heads within inches of the Demon Soul.

“We cannot bind it completely,” Alexstrasza uttered. “That is beyond even all of us put together. Yet, we can ensure that Neltharion—Deathwing—cannot wield it any better than us.
”

“A wise maneuver, as I said,” Krasus responded. Yet, Malfurion sensed again that the cowled figure, the dragon in mortal form, held back important information from even the queen he so obviously adored. What it was, the night elf could not even hazard, but there was a sadness in Krasus’s ancient eyes that the mage quickly hid whenever the leviathans glanced his way.

The three giants stared at the tiny object, the simple golden disk that had caused so much calamity. They stared at it
…
and the Demon Soul was suddenly engulfed in a rainbow of energies. Dominating were red, green, and the brilliant bronze of the sandy Nozdormu. The Demon Soul rose several inches off the ground, hovering just before the Aspects. The magical forces unleashed by the dragons circulated around it, in the process turning the disk over and over.