As soon as Varrus finished with the Fire Elementals, and everyone had resumed their respective battles, he noticed that the colossal golem was playing a less than active role in the fight.

Oh sure, it was hurling stones, and stomping the ground here and there, but it was in support of other theaters of combat.

Squinting his eyes, Varrus spotted a beautiful silver haired lady working over a cauldron at the base of the crater.

He didn't know what specifically was going on, but he knew from experiencing many wipes in video games that she was up to no good. An enemy didn't stand still in the midst of a grand engagement like this unless they were preparing for some ritual. Furthermore, the golem's seeming inaction only furthered Varrus's speculation that something was up.

Varrus glanced at his wife, and determined that she was holding out well enough, and that he should put a stop to whatever scheme the witch had brewing in her pot.

For an opponent that was seemingly locked in a static position, Volcano was his spell of choice.

Volcano: Creates a volcanic eruption at the target location that spits out 8 lava bombs per second for 10 seconds.

It wasn't a particularly effective spell against mobile targets, but it had the benefit of erupting from the target location. Most of Varrus's magical attacks were spawned directly in front of him, or within a few feet.

Volcano was such a sinister spell because it was effective wherever Varrus had line of sight, and there was ground.

Varrus was about to complete this Master tier Destruction spell, when suddenly he felt a massive swell of Holy Void energy coming from his right. It left a copper taste in his mouth, and reminded him of the mental fugue he experienced when Kith'ix was summoned, but different.

He thought about canceling his spell so that he could react to whatever was going on, because that energy source was coming from Syra's side of the battlefield!

However, before he could retract his hands, he felt a body collide with him, sending them both in a tumble across the ice slicked earth.

At the same time, the magic in his hands went awry, and he felt a piercing headache as he was forced to cancel his spell midcast. Unlike a video game character from Skyrim, failure to cast magic in the real world had consequences.

Varrus was fortunate to only have a headache, as some spells when miscast could have one suffer dire consequences. Blink, for example, could have a person merge with furniture, or the walls.

If he checked his status, he would see the negative effect: [Magical Disorientation: All spells increased cast time 0.2-3 seconds. Slight headache & mental haziness.]

In addition to his headache, Varrus was confused from the impact that had rocked him backwards. He found himself sliding along the snowy landscape like a penguin gliding across the ice on its belly.

The body in his arms had a familiar scent, and pretty blonde hair.

Blinking away some colored spots due to his magical disorientation, Varrus recognized the person as his wife!

Bleeding from her torso + shoulder, and coughing up some purplish-golden goo, Syra was a sight for sore eyes.

Varrus wanted to hold her, throw a blanket over her shoulder, and tell her everything was going to be okay after a quick healing session.

However, despite the damage done to her, she wore her signature mad grin. Which told Varrus that his wife was far from out of the fight. Despite being on the crazy side, her fortitude, and desire to win was up there with the greatest sports competitors like Kobe Bryant or Michael Jordan. Varrus couldn't help but admire her overwhelming drive.

Shoving her buster sword into the ice beneath them, she halted their momentum, and caught Varrus in an embrace.

“Syra, are you doing well, my Sun?” Varrus said in concern.

Syra wordlessly replied with a grunt, then grabbed Varrus for a rough kiss along the lips. The taste of the Holy Void goo made Varrus want to wretch, and push her away, however, the relieved emotion, and intense feelings Syra was transmitting towards him had him reluctantly return her embrace.

Her tongue explored the inside of his mouth for a minute more, before she pulled slightly away, only to clunk her forehead onto his forehead, and breath intensely whilst staring him in the eyes.

It was then that Varrus noticed her heterochromia. One eye was golden like usual, and the other was purple, indicating exposure to the Void.

Now it had come as a shock to learn that his wife was practicing one of the forbidden magicks, but if Vandercross was to be trusted, Syra had somehow found a way to safely act as a vessel containing the two contrary powers. Which under ordinary circumstances would be a moment of celebration, great cheer, and a heavy round of love making.

However, these were extraordinary circumstances, and what Varrus saw concerned him. Syra was acting even more intense than usual!

“Varrus! Varrus Varrus Varrus! You're alive!” Syra all but growled as tears fell down her face, and she checked his body all over for injury, and carressed every nook and cranny of his body.

“Yes, yes my love, I am not going anywhere.” Varrus comforted her, all the while, he let his eyes roam, ever vigilant for an ambush.

As much distaste as Varrus had for this changed eye color trope, at least it should be temporary once Syra returned to normal. If he had to view things from a meta standpoint, then Syra likely unlocked some hidden new power, like when a shounen protagonist unlocked his demon biology.

‘Would that make Syra the main character?’ Varrus wanted to chuckle at this postulation, but couldn't find the will at the moment, as Syra was absolutely out of it.

Furthermore, through his Mana Sight, he could see that she was outputting far more energy than what she usually did. Not only that, but it seemed that her internal mana pool was constantly eating away at itself, and simultaneously regenerating, like some kind of ouroboros.

Catching a glimpse of her face, Varrus knew that she must be enduring great pain. These types of transformations always carried with them a heavy burden.

“Allow me to heal this wound.” Varrus motioned towards her shoulder, only to be slightly surprised as it healed itself.

Syra was not skilled in healing magic whatsoever. Varrus could only attribute this healing factor to this new state of being.

However, like all Shounen transformations, Syra seemed to have a time limit in place, and her chest was heaving as she rested in Varrus' embrace.

“Shh, shh, I'm alright, I'm alive.

“What a remarkable transformation, and a touching display of love.” Vandercross slowly clapped as he levitated elegantly across the snow covered wasteland.

Varrus hatefully glared at Vandercross for what he had driven Syra to do.

“Oh don't give me that look, the girl walked down this path herself. I merely gave her a little push to unlock her potential. Besides, she hardly received the worst wounds from our exchange.” Vandercross softly intoned. His 1930’s radio voice almost seemed to lull Varrus into a false sense of cordiality.

Furthermore, as Vandercross spoke, he dropped a portion of the crystalline mirror armor coating his form, and revealed that half of his face had become sunken, and sallow, like a true zombie. In addition to that, he was completely bereft of his left leg.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

Varrus could only open his mouth in stunned silence. He always knew that Syra was strong, but to do that to Vandercross?! One of the strongest and eldest of the Highborn?

“Yes, I shared a similar expression when she released her dormant powers. I was testing her devotion to you, to see if she was the right fit for my son. Imagine Syra's shock when you went invisible, and undetected. I knew better, but she thought you were dead.”

“Ah, that tracks.” Varrus nodded like it made all the sense in the world.

“You seem unsurprised by Syra's behavior. Congratulations, son, you were truly meant for her.” Vandercross finished his statement by lunging at Varrus with his shortsword.

His speed was incredible, and Varrus only had enough time thanks to the hidden boost in Agility thanks to leveling his Stamina in the Skyrim UI.

Varrus held no illusions that he could match a man who could injure Syra with a blade, so he threw Syra on his back, and Blinked away in a random direction.

Varrus wanted to buy some time so he could heal Syra, or deposit her somewhere else so that he could fight Vandercross without worry.

“I'll drop you off at home.” Varrus whispered to Syra, only for her to tightly grip his shoulder.

“We'll take him together. Give me 5 minutes.” Syra growled in determination, then began to absorb a Mana Stone she had taken from her pouch.

Varrus sighed, then began thinking up ways to buy time. The elemental wall spells were a good idea, but the old man could levitate. Furthermore, his Mana Crystal magic allowed Vandercross to absorb any type of magic.

What Varrus needed was to alter the environment. He recalled at the beginning of the fight when the dust had coated the lip of the crater due to the golem’s attack, Vandercross could not clear it, and had one of his compatriots handle the issue.

Whilst he fled backwards constantly dodging crystal arrowheads moving as fast as bullets, and crystal skewers spawning out from underneath him, he thought up a plan.

He then began to spray out Wall of Flames with his off-hand all over the ground. The heat met the snow, creating steam that obfuscated their sight. In addition, the heavy amount of mana in the air from the spell Wall of Flames spell diminished Mana Sights ability, creating an effective counter Elf camouflage.

“Innovative discovery, son. The steam was non-magical, yet the flames were. Wherever did you learn your craft?” Vandercross’s voice boomed through the mist.

Varrus took this opportunity to cast Dispel Magic on Syra as well as himself to remove any harmful side effects. At the same time, he hoped that the light from the spell remained unseen.

Dispel Magic: Dispels all magical effects (except diseases) on friends and foes.

Seeing the purple leave her eye, Varrus exhaled in relief, and gently stroked Syra's hair.

However, instead of a smile, he was greeted with a hand to the face, pushing him to the side.

Syra's sword raised up from the ground, blocking Vandercross as he thrusted downward.

Spiderweb cracks scattered across the ice as Sura was pushed deep into the ground.

Varrus saw red as his wife was unable to raise herself off from the floor, and he responded to Vandercross’s attack by gripping him in telekinesis.

Vandercross was caught off guard, and had his momentum utterly cease as he was locked in place.

“Once again you've foiled my unique brand of magic, Varrus. Keen eye to have spotted its weakness to unattributed magic. However, could you satisfy a truant father's curiosity? You never did tell me who your instructor was.” Vandercross said, arching an eyebrow as if he didn't care that he had been caught.

“I'm self taught.” Varrus tersely replied, before he began to ragdoll Vandercross into the icy ground again and again, and again.

Breathing heavily from releasing the pent up emotions, Varrus sighed in relief when Syra pulled herself out of a pit, and stood by his side like nothing had happened.

He then pulled Vandercross out of the ice, and held him away at more than 10ft. It was a distance close enough to converse, yet far enough away to protect him from any unforeseen shenanigans.

Ordinarily, Varrus wouldn't stop and risk an escape, however, Vandercross was a wealth of knowledge. Now would be his only opportunity to question him.

But before Varrus could get a word in edgewise, Syra spoke first.

“Thank you for unlocking my potential.” Syra said shyly from Varrus’s back.

“Please, call me papi, and it was no trouble at all, daughter mine. Take note, son, give freely, and be repaid in kindness. I did not last this long on personal power alone. Reputation and perception are just as important to managing a kingdom as the might of the sword.” Vandercross dispensed his advice whilst nodding in appreciation of Syra’s thanks.

“That explains the rise of my acting career.” Varrus stated sarcastically, and rolled his eyes.

“Papi is a sentimental man. You will understand when you have children of your own one day.” Vandercross nodded towards Syra, to which she turned away and blushed.

‘Oi! You so happily told me you wanted 12 children, but when this old charismatic man implies such, you turn away!?’ Varrus internally scoffed at Syra’s shy, schoolgirl behavior.

“That’s besides the point. How come you didn't teach me any magic? Why didn't you aid the Humans against the Scourge?” Varrus questioned hotly.

“To answer your first question is simple. The events of the Orcish invasion began when you were in your 20's. It was a time of strife and war that had not visited these lands in ages. I did not have the time, nor inclination to see you tutored. I was worried that a hot headed youth, proud of learning his father's unique magic, would find himself in an early grave. I have lived a long time, son. Call it selfishness, but I could not live with myself if my own kin had perished so innocent and young.” Vandercross shook his head in sorrow.

Varrus held back any hot retort as he saw genuine care and discomfort spread across Vandercross’s face. It seemed that despite being somewhat distant, like a CEO dad that was always busy, he at least cared.

However, why did the Highborn stay out of the Third War?

“As to your second question, are you aware of the Guardians of Tirisfal?” Vandercross questioned.

“Vaguely. I know that the Guardians were an institution of Archmages that empowered one individual with a portion of their power to combat the Legion. That the most recent Guardian, Medivh, went mad, and opened the Dark Portal, connecting our world to Draenor, the planet of the Orcs. Which led to the Second War, and the destruction of Stormwind.” Varrus answered, confused with what this had to do with anything.

“An apt summary, my boy. The Guardians were an institution founded by an Elf. One Magus Alodi, a friend of mine. He became the first Guardian, and instituted term limits, so that the awesome power would not corrupt any one recipient.

Knowing the greed of Humans, I thought him mad. Centuries later, I was proven right when the latest Guardian, Aegwyn refused to release her powers to the next in line. Instead, her son inheriting her power caused a great uproar amongst magical society, setting a precedent of inherited power, essentially creating a new dynasty of Mage Kings overnight. Threatening our dominion over magic.

This soured Elven and Human relations entirely. It was only due to our debt to the First King of the Humans that we even deigned to answer the call to war against the Orcs. Blaming the Humans for their folly, we saw the Scourge as punishment for their greed and lust for power.

To answer your question son, it was pride and arrogance that ultimately led to our demise. However, without the traitor lurking in our ranks, Silvermoon would remain unbleached. The barrier we created with the power of the Sunwell was impenetrable. If I have any advice to you, it would be to vet your allies routinely, because all it takes is one dagger in the back for it all to come toppling down.”

Varrus was blank faced when he learned of the revelation. Unsurprisingly, it was Elven pride and arrogance that saw them refuse to aid the Humans.

Although at least he had some context now. It sort of made sense when Vandercross framed it like that. The Guardian, Medivh had seriously fucked over all of Azeroth by opening the Dark Portal. It was understandable that the Elves were a little salty that the servants of the Burning Legion were raping, and pillaging the people and the land. All due to a so-called guardian of the planet.

Plus, the Sunwell literally was a font of nearly limitless power. Who would be worried from millions of Undead when the barrier was unbreakable?

Varrus opened his mouth to ask more questions, however, he felt a shift in the ground, breaking his concentration. A moment later, Syra grabbed him, and dodged an earth spike that emerged from his position.

“You don't have much more time, son. Starbottle is almost finished with her spell, and your companions are running on thin ice. You must push harder if you wish to win.” Vandercross stated with sincerity.

At that moment, the mist and dust cleared, and the moonlight revealed a harrowing sight.

His companions were all locked in death defying combat, however, what really struck a chord in Varrus's throat was the vast farm of Mana Crystals stacked all around them as far as the eye could see.

All along, Varrus thought he had Vandercross right where he wanted him. However, reality proved further from the truth.

The entire time they had been fighting, Mana Stones had been sprouting from the ground, and were thrown around by Vandercross like crazy. Varrus had paid them no mind, as he was deep in the throes of combat.

But these Mana Stones did not simply disappear! Oh no, they had been absorbing ambient mana, and growing brighter, thicker and taller in size. Resembling stalagmites that had grown in a cave for eons, these Mana Crystals dotted the Sunwell's crater. and pulsed with untold energy.

To make matters worse, the alchemist in the center seemed to be almost done with her ritual!

If Varrus didn't hurry, then both he, and the rest of his companions would not make it out of this crater alive!

“Time is ticking, my son. You had best come at me with everything you've got. Otherwise there won't be much of an island to fight upon.”

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