As Krivax took in the scene in front of him, he couldn’t help but be impressed by how quickly the Alliance had responded to the threat of the so-called ‘Primals.’
Several mages from the Circle of Viziers, the Kirin Tor, and the Blue Dragonflight were currently cooperating to create a ritual site in an open field near Stonebull Village that would be used for a newly developed kind of scrying magic. The field was fairly crowded as everyone waited patiently for the mages to finish their work so they could get their first clear look at the enemy.
The Primals had so far been prevented from spreading too far from Feralas through the combined efforts of several different parties, but Azjol-Nerub wished to properly scout the enemy before they committed any more forces.
The spell that they were preparing had been derived from the Order of Kal’tut’s method of seeing through the perspective of the nerubian flyers. The spell had been combined with some new advancements in divination made by Dalaran and illusory display techniques developed by the Blue Dragonflight. Once cast, it would simultaneously connect to the minds of nearly three dozen flyers that were waiting around the borders of Feralas and display everything that they were seeing. These flyers would then fly into the territory of the Primals so that they could get a good idea of the threat.
There had been a few proposals to simply fly over the forest with gryphon riders at first, but that idea was abandoned once they learned that the Primals had managed to ‘infest’ and take over the corpses of several green dragons.
Needless to say, they had decided that it would be safer to send non-sapient flyers instead.
While he was musing on recent events, Krivax found his attention drawn to a muted conversation between Trixie and Anub’rekhan.
“Hey, do you think those two over there are going to break into a fight?” Trixie muttered to Anub’rekhan as she leaned against the Spiderlord’s carapace. “If so, I’ve got money on the elf.”
“That is unlikely,” Anub’rekhan responded in a deep voice that he didn’t bother to quiet. “The High King has made clear the consequences of causing a diplomatic incident.”
“I… think it should be fine,” Trixie said hesitantly. “They’ve been going at it for a while and haven’t started anything yet.”
Krivax turned his attention to what they were looking at and spotted a Vizier and an elderly high elf Magister working together on a part of the ritual site designed to tap into the local leyline. Even without being able to hear them, Krivax could tell from their expressions that the two of them were making snide and antagonistic remarks to each other as they worked. He wished that two of them would get along, but a lack of violence was probably the best he could hope for.
Despite the animosity, the scene was gratifying. Krivax was happy to see the results of cooperation and proper information sharing. It made him feel like all of his diplomatic effort had actually been worth it.
After Krivax reported to the High King that there was a growing army of plant monsters spreading across Kalimdor, there had been an absolute flurry of diplomatic activity. Once the Kirin Tor managed to verify that the creatures were corrupted by Fel magic, it quickly became obvious to the leaders of the Alliance that this was a plot of the Burning Legion.
Since the Aspects had already warned them that something like this might happen, everyone accepted this to be a legitimate threat.
“It’s just a shame that not everyone is taking this threat seriously,” Trixie said with a sigh. “You’d think folks would’ve learned their lesson after the Second War.”
“The short sighted behavior of the surface races is something that Azjol-Nerub has grown accustomed to,” said Anub’rekhan.
Krivax didn’t entirely agree with that. Azjol-Nerub had made more than its fair share of short sighted decisions in its history, so he felt compelled to speak up for the Alliance.
“It’s not all that surprising that the nations of the Eastern Kingdom don’t want to invest a lot of resources in a problem on the other side of the world,” Krivax said, barging into their conversation. “Especially since a lot of them are still recovering after the Second War. This is already better than I had expected.”
“But aren't these things shaping up to be some sort of really big threat?” asked Trixie, not looking very convinced. “It’s not like it’d be impossible for these things to find their way to the Eastern Kingdoms, right?”
That was definitely true. If the Primals managed to take over Kalimdor, it wouldn’t take them long to spread fully into the Emerald Dream and access the rest of Azeroth.
“Yeah, but that’s looking pretty unlikely to happen right now,” Krivax said with no small amount of relief. “The human kingdoms have already sent observers to keep an eye on things, and I’m sure that they’ll send more if things start to head in the wrong direction.”
The Primals had already killed several green dragons who had been in Feralas at the time. In response, Ysera and Cenarius were focusing entirely on preventing the Primals from repeating the Old Gods’ achievement of developing a permanent foothold in the Emerald Dream.
The Green Dragonflight and Cenarion Circle were already stretched thin managing the Emerald Nightmare, and they really couldn’t afford to fight a war on two fronts.
Alexstrasza and the Red Dragonflight were preventing the Primals from spreading any further south into the Silithus Desert where Ahn’Qiraj was located. Absolutely nobody wanted to be faced with whatever apocalyptic nightmare would develop if the Primals broke the seal containing the Qiraji or spread into an Old God’s prison.
Krivax couldn’t help but shudder at the thought.
Despite the difficulties, they’d done a good job so far in preventing the Primals from getting out of hand. The creatures had been confined to a small region of Kalimdor and ideally wouldn’t spread out of it.
“Besides, not everyone is standing by,” Krivax said optimistically, turning his attention back to the ritual site.
“I guess that’s true,” Trixie admitted begrudgingly. “Who’d ever have thought that the elves would manage to get off their butts and help out.”
“The actions of Quel’Thalas are indeed unexpected,” Anub’rekhan agreed evenly.
Dalaran was, as usual, one of the more proactive members of the Alliance and didn’t hesitate to send several highly skilled mages and researchers.
Surprisingly, Quel’Thalas had also sent several of their Magisters in what was a notable departure from their normally isolationist foreign policy. They even sent one of their foremost experts in divination magic to aid their research efforts, which had already helped a lot. Quel’Thalas may be a nation prone to political stagnancy, but they were no slouches when it came to magic.
“I just wish we knew what these damned things are,” Trixie grumbled
Krivax suddenly realized that neither Trixie nor Anub’rekhan had heard the most recent intelligence update on the Primals. Trixie obviously didn’t have the same sources as he did while the Spiderlord had been busy establishing a defensive line to the south.
“There’s actually been some news about that,” Krivax said, immediately drawing both of their interest before he gestured to the elderly elf mage. “Magister Voren’thal managed to use divination magic to discover that these things come from Draenor. From there, it wasn’t too hard to interrogate the oldest of the orcs to learn more.”
As far as the orcs knew, the Primals were some manner of plant-like hivemind, hostile to all life aside from its own, that had once existed on Draenor. They came in a variety of different appearances and would attempt to assimilate any living beings that got in their way. They could even cultivate flora within a living or dead host and slowly turn them into mindless creatures entirely under the hivemind’s control. It was entirely the kind of horrific entity that Krivax would expect to find in the Warcraft universe.
The orcs claimed that the Horde had destroyed all of the Primals when they took over Draenor, but they obviously didn’t do a good enough job.
The most likely scenario was that the Burning Legion found some remnant of the hivemind, pumped it full of Fel, and dumped it on Kalimdor. Now they were all stuck handling the fallout of the Legion’s actions.
Krivax shared all of this with Anub’rekhan and Trixie, although he left out the part about this likely being a way to distract from the Lich King. Anub’rekhan had already been told about the Lich King and was preparing the Guardians of Nerub to face an undead army in the future, but Trixie didn’t know anything about the necromantic threat. The existence of the Lich King was still being kept mostly a secret by the Alliance leaders so as to not spread panic.
“The Guardians of Nerub will be prepared to face any threat on Azeroth posed by the Burning Legion,” said Anub’rekhan, the Light around him surging with the Spiderlord’s conviction. “I have been shown by Prophet Velen and K’ure the danger they pose to Azjol-Nerub. Their schemes must be destroyed by any means necessary.”
Krivax nodded in agreement, even as he once again wondered how much the Light was influencing Anub’rekhan’s mind. The Spiderlord had gotten much more… zealous in his desire to protect Azjol-Nerub ever since he began using the Light.
All magics had an effect on the minds of those who used it, although some were more severe than others.
“What exactly did they tell you about the Burning Legion?” Krivax asked curiously.
The draenei had also sent a few of their mages to help out and monitor the situation, but he hadn’t had the chance to meet Velen or the naaru.
“They showed me visions of their evil actions,” Anub’rekhan immediately answered, his voice tinged with anger. “Countless worlds have been destroyed without reason as the demons spread across the cosmos. Fortunately, Prophet Velen has proven willing to share his knowledge of the Light with anyone who wishes to learn.”
That was nice to hear. Krivax knew that the Church of Holy Light were also very interested in the draenei and their naaru benefactor. There were some ongoing efforts to heal K’ure and bring the naaru back to their full strength, which would be a big boon against the Lich King if the draenei, Church, and Guardians of Nerub were to succeed.
Before Krivax could respond, he sensed Masruk approaching them from Stonebull Village’s training area. His friend’s Life magic felt very similar to a member of the Red Dragonflight, almost to the point where he wouldn’t be able to tell them apart.
“Lifeweaver Masruk! How’re you doing?” asked Krivax, chuckling as he saw his friend’s annoyance. “Did you get bored of thrashing the tauren Braves?”
“I have told you not to use my title, Krivax,” Masruk grumbled as made his way over. “It feels strange to hear you speak to me so formally.”
“But how can I resist when you look so strong?” Krivax asked teasingly as he ran his eyes over Masruk’s changed appearance. “It would be rude of me not to acknowledge your new station.”
It hadn’t been decided yet where the new Lifeweaver caste would fit into the nerubian hierarchy, but they would certainly be in the higher ranks of society. Project Emberscales had been a resounding success, allowing the Queens of Azjol-Nerub to create a new caste that fully leveraged Krivax’s unique biology.
Masruk had been completely transformed from the common nerubian that he once was.
He still had the same overall shape of a normal nerubian, but his carapace was now a crimson color a few shades darker than Krivax’s own. He also possessed two large draconic wings on his back that would allow him to glide across long distances. Apparently, the Queens had used one pair of limbs to make it, because Masruk only had four legs compared to the six that he had before. He also possessed a flat, scale covered tail that extended from the end of his abdomen.
The Lifeweavers were designed to be versatile combatants, possessing greater strength, regeneration, and maneuverability than most nerubians. While they lacked the raw power and weight of a Spiderlord, they were far more agile and could travel over long distances with ease, sharing Krivax’s inexhaustible endurance.
“But really, how did your fights go, Masruk?” Krivax asked curiously, deciding to stop teasing his friend. “Weren’t you going to fight the strongest Braves that the tauren have today? I wasn’t expecting you to finish so quickly.”
Masruk preened pridefully before he answered. “The Braves were very skilled warriors, but were no match for my regenerative abilities. It was not difficult for me to outlast and defeat them.”
“Well done, Lifeweaver Masruk,” Anub’rekhan complemented with a nod, causing Masruk to stand a little taller and flare his wings. “Were it not for the difficulty that your new caste seems to have in channeling the Light, I would not hesitate to recruit you.”
Krivax was glad to see Masruk so happy, but he still had many questions about the whole ‘new caste’ thing. He hadn’t asked before since there were so many other things demanding his attention, but now seemed like a good time.
With an apologetic glance to Trixie and Anub’rekhan, Krivax cast a quick privacy ward around him and his friend.
“Masruk, why didn’t you tell me that you were being experimented on by Queen Nezar’Azret?” Krivax asked, not bothering to keep the worry out of his voice. “What you did was… extremely dangerous. I don’t know what I would have done if I only heard about this after something bad had happened.”
Krivax was surprised when Masruk’s expression grew unexpectedly firm.
“This was something that I needed to do,” Masruk answered resolutely. “There were no other paths that I could see where I did not become a mere burden if I stayed as I was.”
Krivax flinched, taken aback by his friend’s words. “I’ve never seen you as a burden, Masruk. Why would you feel that way? Was it just because I got a little bit stronger after I was blessed by Alexstrasza?”
“It was far more than a little,” Masruk said with a huff. “You’ve outpaced me since the moment we hatched. I’ve always known that you were special. That you were… somehow different from all of our peers. I can accept that you will always be more special than me, but I can’t accept feeling useless.”
Krivax slumped over with a heavy sigh. “I never knew that you felt that way. Masruk… you don’t need to become the subject of life threatening experiments just so that you can be stronger. There are very few people in this world other than you who I actually consider a friend.”
He couldn’t actually think of anyone who he was as close to in this world as Masruk. The Aspects probably knew more about him since they were aware of his secrets, and he was pretty friendly with Trixie, but Masruk had been one of the first people he’d ever met in this world.
Even if they’d been separated for a while, that hadn’t changed.
“I know, but that doesn’t change that this is what I wanted,” Masruk said firmly, even as his expression grew soft at Krivax’s distress. “When we were young and you first took me to the surface, I knew then that staying by your side was my best chance at seeing more of this world than any of my peers.”
Krivax was a bit stunned by the passion he heard in Masruk’s voice and the eloquence of his words. Masruk was usually the type to be taciturn, choosing instead to show his feelings through actions.
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“And I was right,” Masruk continued, his gaze resolute. “Staying with you has given me opportunities that the rest of our clutch mates could only imagine, while also allowing me to protect you. If I’m going to continue doing so, then I can’t allow myself to fall behind.”
Krivax was silent for a moment, processing his friend’s words.
“Masruk, you’ve always been there for me,” Krivax said, his voice quiet and earnest. “You’ve helped me more times than I can count. I appreciate your desire to be strong, but… you are more than just my bodyguard. You’re a dear friend, and I don’t like seeing you take unnecessary risks. Even so, I understand that this is your decision and I respect your choice.”
Masruk’s gaze softened. “Thank you, Krivax. And don’t worry about me. I can handle myself.”
“I know you can,” Krivax replied, feeling a hint of pride grow in him at his friend’s confidence. “Just tell me if you’re going to let any more Queens experiment on you, alright? It’d be nice to know about things like this ahead of time.”
“That’s not something you need to worry about,” Masruk said as a faint shudder passed through his body. “I’d rather not repeat the experience. Besides, leaving you alone is dangerous. Who else would keep an eye on you while you’re trying to save Azeroth?”
Krivax let out a hearty laugh, a sense of deep relief washing over him. “Alright, it’s a deal buddy. I’ll try not to make things too difficult for you.”
Breaking the privacy wards, their conversation grew lighter as they began to catch up with each other. Krivax told his friend stories about the kaldorei and their immense forests while Masruk shared his experiences in training and the development of his new abilities.
At some point, Masruk began to make Krivax feel jealous by showing off his large wings and discussing the Queen’s efforts in giving the Lifeweavers the ability to properly fly for sustained periods. Krivax was starting to consider the logistics of enchanting a flying carpet or to somehow convince Gnomeregan to make him a flying machine that could carry someone as large as him when the mages finally finished preparing the spell.
“Everyone, please step back,” Magister Voren’thal shouted out over the clearing, causing everyone to quiet down. “Multi-vector scrying has proven to be quite sensitive to outside disturbances, so please refrain from using any unnecessary magic that might disrupt the spell. The entity we are attempting to observe is alleged to be very adaptable, so there is no telling how many attempts at this will be allowed.”
A hush fell over the crowd as the seriousness of the situation was made clear to them, and the mages began their chanting. Immediately, a series of arcane glyphs appeared across the ground as the spell began to take effect. Soon enough, a series of projections began to appear that showed the perspective of each of the flyers through the several strange glowing crystals spread out around the ritual site.
Krivax knew that the strange crystals would be acting as a form of storage device for the images being recorded by the scrying spell and eventually delivered to the Alliance’s intelligence analysts. It was a relatively new invention that had come from Uldaman, and opened up a lot of possibilities for the Alliance.
Krivax knew that many new inventions had developed across Azeroth during the original timeline, but it was happening much faster now than it otherwise would have.
Once the spell took effect, the images began to change as the handlers near each pack of flyers directed them to begin their flight over the Primals’ territory. Flyers didn’t travel exceptionally fast so it took some time for them to reach their destination, but the images eventually gave everyone their first look at what had become of Feralas.
“By the Earthmother,” Cairne whispered.
Cairne’s exclamation was echoed by various gasps and muttered voices as the crowd watched in horrified awe.
Feralas had always been a lush jungle, but it now resembled an alien landscape. Vast tracts of land had been consumed by creeping tendrils glowing with sickly Fel magic. The plants and trees were grotesquely distorted, warped into abhorrent imitations of their former selves. Many of the local animals were either completely encased in plant matter or were shambling about with roots and leaves growing from their body.
“Disgusting,” Anub’rekhan muttered next to him.
“This must be stopped,” Cairne said, his voice filled with more anger than Krivax had ever heard from the Chieftain. “This… abomination is an affront to the Earthmother and a threat to all life on Kalimdor.”
Krivax heard many sounds of agreement coming from the gathered taurens. While the tauren were not as fanatically devoted to the preservation of nature as the night elves, this was still a blatant affront to their faith.
“Doesn’t seem like it’ll be easy,” Trixie said grimly as she studied the images with an analytical eye. “If this thing’s some sort of hivemind like you guys say, then we’ll have to get rid of every bit of it. Otherwise it’ll just start spreading again and pop up later.”
Trixie’s words cast a grim pallor over the assembly, the realization of the immense task before them starting to become clear. Everyone, whether it be the tauren or those from the Eastern Kingdoms, had already seen their fair share of conflict in recent times and weren’t eager to see more.
“You are correct, Trixie,” Anub’rekhan replied, undaunted as the Light around him began to flare. “Such a foe is unlike those we have faced before and demands a response just as unprecedented. It is fortunate that we are all prepared to give it one.”
Standing right next to the Spirelord, Krivax could feel the Light bolster his resolve and knew that Anub’rekhan was right. The Burning Legion had dumped something truly awful on their doorstep, but the defenders of Azeroth were far more prepared to respond than they were in the original timeline.
The Primals would be facing the might of not only the Kaldorei and Azjol-Nerub, but also the united forces of the Dragonflights and their Aspects. Together, they were truly a force that could stand against the worst the Burning Legion had to offer.
Newly resolved, Krivax turned his attention back to the images in front of him and decided to keep an eye out for any potential weaknesses. After all, the creatures had been defeated on Draenor before so there was no reason to consider them immortal.
Eventually one of the images began to show a scene that caught everyone’s interest.
The Primals were assaulting a large arcane barrier that was protecting a small city in the northern part of Feralas. Massive trees moved like living siege engines, hurling boulders and using their gnarled branches like battering rams against the barrier. The ground itself seemed to squirm as roots and tendril-like vines writhed across the city’s outskirts and spat Fel magic at the arcane magic protecting the city.
“That must be Eldre’Thalas,” Krivax said grimly, watching as an elf conjured a firestorm around one of the attacking treants. It was highly effective and soon burned the creature to ash, but another one was quick to take its place. “The kaldorei say that it’s a city of highborne who survived the Sundering but refused to give up arcane magic. I doubt their shield is going to last too long against an assault like that.”
Krivax could tell that many of the high elves were affected by the sight of their distant cousins being put into such dire circumstances. Quel’Thalas was far stronger than such a small city, but even they would only delay the inevitable if they were put in a similar situation.
“Yeah, that looks pretty bad,” Trixie said with a strange expression on her face. “So… why aren’t they just teleporting out of their city? Seems like they’re fighting a losing battle.”
Krivax hesitated as he struggled to find an answer to that question.
“That’s a really good question,” Krivax said to himself as he considered possible explanations. “I’ll have to remind someone to check the leylines leading into Feralas for corruption. Unfortunately, we don’t have the necessary tools to do that right now.”
An alternative explanation was that a Dreadlord was the one responsible for somehow preventing the highborne from leaving the city.
Deciding that he would worry about that later, Krivax once again focused on the various images in front of him, keeping a particular eye on the ongoing siege. A few of the flyers seemed to have been noticed by the Primals and were swiftly devoured by plant-infested dragons or other flying creatures, but the majority remained undiscovered.
Eventually, Krivax noticed something strange when one of the largest Primals, a colossal treant who was attacking the barrier, was destroyed by a massive inferno created by the highborne mages. As the creature died, there was a brief moment during which all the nearby Primals froze in their tracks.
The stillness lasted for just a moment before they all resumed their onslaught, but it was enough for Krivax to take notice.
“DId you see that?” Krivax asked, pointing at the image where the enormous Primal had fallen. “They all stopped for a moment when the big one was destroyed.”
Krivax recalled the information from the Alliance’s most recent intelligence report on the Primals. On Draenor, the most common of the creatures were the botani, who were basically humanoid plant people who worshiped and served the genesaurs.
He had assumed that each of the Primals was controlled by some kind of central intelligence. However, what he knew and what he had just seen implied that the larger Primals were acting as some sort of command unit or local controller.
Feeling excited, Krivax decided to share his theory.
Anub’rekhan hummed thoughtfully next to him. “If your suspicions are correct, then targeting the largest of the Primals in any given battle could potentially disrupt them for short periods. It also means that the creatures have a hierarchical command structure and would be best eliminated if we destroy it from the top down.”
Krivax pointed to one of the images that displayed the remnants of a small island in the northern part of Feralas which the Green Dragonflight had previously been guarding. “I have a feeling that one is going to be pretty high in the hierarchy.”
That area had once been the location of a portal into the Emerald Dream and one of the five Great Trees that were grown from branches of the World Tree, Nordrassil. Now, it was the site of an immense, growing organism that didn’t yet have any real shape. Vast and bloated with Fel magic, it sprawled for miles across the entire island, corrupting the surrounding waters and land. At its center the Great Tree, Dream Bough, could be seen, visibly warped and pulsating with malevolent green energy.
They only managed to look at it for a few moments before several vines launched from the island at great speed and the image disappeared, indicating that the flyer had been killed.
After that, it seemed like the Primals had decided to focus on hunting down the spies flying over their territory and watching them. It wasn’t long after that when the last of the flyers were killed and the final display disappeared.
Almost immediately, conversation picked up as everyone started discussing and speculating on the best way to handle the Primals. Krivax discussed the matter with Anub’rekhan for a while as well, and they soon managed to decide on a course of action.
They would need to gather more samples of the larger Primals for them to research so they could learn more about the creature’s hivemind and verify its weak points. If their hive mind worked like Krivax suspected, then killing the strongest of their leaders would render the Primals disorganized, even if it didn’t eliminate them entirely.
However, to do that they would need the help of powerful druids. The number of casualties that they would sustain if they tried to attack the Primals otherwise would be unacceptable. The best course of actions would be to put together a powerful united force, break the siege on Eldre’Thalas before the city fell to the Primals, and then start hunting down their leaders.
Krivax let out a deep sigh, already resigning himself to more diplomacy with the night elves.
He dearly hoped that this crisis had made them more… open to contact.
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Located in an open field close to Feathermoon Stronghold, a kaldorei fortress situated on an island off the coast of Feralas, Tyrande Whisperwind glared in fury at the grotesque mockery that the Burning Legion had unleashed on her people’s homeland.
For their intentions could only be one of mockery when they chose to use a corrupted creature of Nature to attack her people. Already, there were many among the kaldorei who balked at being forced to fight beings that looked so much like the ones they were sworn to protect. The few Ancients of War that they had sent to combat the threat had not lasted more than a few moments before being corrupted by Fel magic and turning against their druids.
The Cenarion Circle had some success in purifying the creatures once they were isolated, but their efforts were far too slow to be truly useful.
Instead, the best way to deal with the corrupted creatures was to set them aflame.
Kaldorei balked at the thought of setting fire to large swaths of land that had once hosted lush jungles.However, they knew that fire helped to clear out old growth so that new growth could thrive and that the best way to halt any disease was to cut it out from the root…
Still, such widespread destruction was not an idea that her people were willing to easily accept. The Burning Legion had chosen their weapon well.
As both a general and a ruler, Tyrande could tell that the kaldorei were not prepared for a threat of this nature. If not for the aid of the Dragonflights, their circumstances would be far more dire than they already were.
“What exactly are these creatures?” Tyrande asked her mate, gesturing to the corpse in front of her. “The outsiders have told us of their origins, but I still find it difficult to fathom. Why would creatures of nature be so needlessly aggressive against all other life?”
It would be far more understandable and easier to handle if this were a creation of the Legion, but in truth it was merely modified to suit their own needs.
Malfurion studied the corpse with a complicated expression. According to reports, it was one of the larger variants of the creatures which the outsiders labeled as Genesaurs. Malfurion was the first one to have discovered the Primals after being sent by Ysera to investigate the disturbance they caused in the Emerald Dream.
Upon discovering what had happened, Malfurion immediately unleashed his fury on the Burning Legion’s foul monstrosity. Tyrande knew how powerful her mate was, which was why she was so concerned when she learned he had been forced to call on reinforcements.
She had immediately ordered Shandris to travel south with a group of her finest Sentinels, several members of the Cenarion Circle, and a Keeper of the Grove.
The reports being sent back of the ongoing battles were grim, and Tyrande was beginning to think that she would have to mobilize even more forces to face this threat. Given the current political situation regarding the Wardens and Archdruid Staghelm’s faction in the Cenarion Circle, this was… a complicated time for something like this to happen.
Tyrande could use this to rally her people against a common enemy, but Maiev and Staghelm could also use this crisis to direct animosity toward her leadership and suggest themselves as better alternatives. There were many people who disagreed strongly with her freeing of Illidan and would be more open to such opinions than they would have been otherwise.
“I’m not quite certain,” Malfurion admitted after a long moment of silence. “It seems to have tapped directly into the Spirit of Life from its world of origin and seems to possess a communal sentience. Even now, I can feel the greater whole reaching toward this portion through the Emerald Dream.”
While that was interesting to Tyrande, she was currently far more concerned with the practicality of how to deal with it. “Is there anything that the Cenarion Circle can do to pacify the creatures, or remove them as a threat? Our forces cannot prevent them from spreading toward our lands forever.”
Malfurion shook his head regretfully. “Not without turning our full attention to it and allowing the Emerald Nightmare to spread. I have no doubt that the Void would be eager to take advantage of our distraction. If this collective intelligence tainted by the Fel spread into the Dream as well, we would be fighting a war on two fronts. It's already taking a great deal of effort to prevent that from happening with Dream Bough under its control.”
Tyrande fell silent as she considered all of her options.
Given what she’d been told of the outsiders, they would likely be willing to cooperate with them against this kind of threat. Her people were prideful sometimes to a fault, but even they would be willing to fight alongside outsiders against a threat caused by the Burning Legion. They had done exactly that during the War of the Ancients, so it would be no great task to convince them.
However… many of her people would likely die in the conflict, just like during the War of the Shifting Sands. Tyrande had been a ruler for over ten millennia and knew how to accept necessary sacrifices, but the kaldorei could not replenish their numbers as quickly as the mortal races did. Her people had always been prone to slow reproduction, and a large portion of their males residing within the Emerald Dream certainly did not help.
Every dead kaldorei was the erasure of millennia of knowledge and experience. It was the loss of an essential fighting force that the kaldorei would need for the many future threats that Ysera had informed her about.
Not only was it Tyrande’s moral duty to ensure that she saved every kaldorei life possible, but it was also a strategic imperative.
As she considered everything that she could do to give her people an advantage in this conflict, Tyrande felt her expression harden as she reached a conclusion. Malfurion knew her too well, because he almost immediately understood what she was thinking.
“Tyrande, no! Illidan is not the answer to this crisis!” Malfurion said forcefully.
“Do you know anyone else knowledgeable of both Fel and Nature magic, beloved?” Tyrande asked, her decision already made but hoping that she could convince her mate. “You know what Ysera said about his future. If our enemy is the Burning Legion, then he will do everything in his power to destroy them. I cannot think of a more well-suited ally.”
“I know my brother better than anyone else, Tyrande, and I’m telling you that he cannot be trusted,” Malfurion said unyieldingly. “I was fine permitting his release from prison due to the claims of Ysera, but he is still far too unstable. He is far from anything resembling rehabilitated. I will not allow him to be unleashed on this world!”
Tyrande hated moments like this when she was forced to disagree with her mate, but she had few other choices. Malfurion was blinded by his personal feelings on this matter, and her duty to the well-being of the kaldorei was her most important duty of all.
“That is not your decision to make, beloved,” Tyrande said as kindly as she could. “It is mine, as High Priestess of Elune and leader of the Sentinels. You may go to Cenarius and attempt to countermand my decision, but I doubt that he would agree.”
The Sentinel guards shifted uneasily as they heard her overrule her mate, but they didn’t say anything.
Many of their people considered the two of them to be co-rulers of the kaldorei, but the truth was more complicated. Tyrande held far more political power than Malfurion over the majority of kaldorei society, and she was the one who more frequently dealt with the practical affairs of ruling a nation. They rarely had explicit disagreements on things they could not compromise on… but this was certainly one of them.
“My love… please reconsider,” Malfurion implored, his eyes filled with worry.
Tyrande could tell that her mate’s concerns were genuine and that he truly believed that Illidan would bring them nothing but ruin, but she simply didn’t agree.
“Malfurion, this is an argument that we’ve had many times before. I respect your wisdom and value your advice, but my highest duty is to lead our people and ensure their safety,” Tyrande said, her voice as gentle as she could make it. “Against a threat like this, Illidan is the best hope we have of minimizing casualties. I will not change my decision.”
A silence hung heavy between them once Tyrande was done speaking, one filled with millennia of shared experiences and a lifetime of disagreements. In the end, Malfurion hung his head with the realization that he could not change Tyrande’s mind.
“I pray to Elune that you are correct, Tyrande, and that my fears are unwarranted,” Malfurion said with a heavy sigh.
Tyrande nodded to her mate, even as she made a similar silent prayer to the goddess. She had not forgotten that Illidan had caused many problems during the timeline that Ysera described after being released. Despite all of that, he had still been instrumental in the Burning Legion’s defeat.
Tyrande could only hope that things had changed enough to guide Illidan down a less destructive path.