07.WoW War Of The Ancients Trilogy 03 The Sundering (2005 07)

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by the blazing, orange rock. Raw magical forces that were an inherent part of the fiery mass he had disgorged made
it impossible to locate the disk, but Neltharion could wait.
He savored the horrific demise of the mysterious dragon mage, the pet of Alexstrasza s who had nearly upset his
plans early on. It was a shame that there would be nothing left of the creature, for the black would have liked to
carry some reminder with which to present his fellow Aspect before he made her his concubine. Neltharion had
sensed the closeness of the two, almost as if this Krasus had been as favored as her consorts, especially the insipid
and irritating Korialstrasz.
Still, all that truly mattered was that the creature was dead and the disk would be his again. He simply had to be
patient. The Soul was surely near him, buried under the magma and awaiting reunion with him.
But then& a nagging little thought disturbed his reverie. Neltharion considered the guileful ways of his quarry and
how he and his companions had managed to steal away the disk in the first place.
The dragon dropped lower, trying to sense his beloved creation through the chaotic energies only just beginning to
die down. He could still not sense the disk, but it had to be somewhere in there. It had to be&
Krasus materialized some distance away, the overbearing heat of Deathwing s attack still with him. He sprawled on
the ground, aware that once again he had not gotten as far away as he would have liked.
It was his hope that the black thought him dead now, the Demon Soul buried with him. As a dragon himself, Krasus
was aware of the energies each of his kind emitted during attacks and believed that Deathwing s would delay the
Aspect from searching for the night elf and orc. Each precious minute would further the pair s chances of success.
As for Krasus himself, now that his foe thought him no more, he could rest long enough to gather the strength to
transport himself to his companions. The mage gave thanks that his plan had worked, for he doubted that he would
have had the ability to do much else if Deathwing had discovered the ruse. In fact, Krasus suspected that, at the
moment, he would have been fortunate if he even retained the power to light a candle, much less defend himself
against an insane Aspect.
Depleted, the robed figure lay stretched out against the rocky soil. The first rays of light stretched up over what
little of the horizon he could see. In this benighted place, they would do little but mark the vague differentiation
between eve and day. Yet, Krasus welcomed them, for as one of the red flight, he was a being of Life and Life
flourished best in the sun s light. As his eyes adjusted to the new illumination, the mage finally allowed himself to
relax, at least for a moment.
And that was when the deep voice from above rumbled triumphantly, Ah! I have found you after all!
Hunger began to gnaw at Tyrande s stomach, not a good sign at all. The Mother Moon had sustained her for a long
time, but there was so much need for Elune throughout Kalimdor that she could not concentrate so much on a mere
priestess. Priestesses expected always to make the sacrifice first, should the need arise.
Tyrande felt no betrayal. She thanked Elune for all that the deity had done. Now it would be up to too-fragile mortal
flesh, but the training of the sisterhood would help her.
Each eve, at the time when the sun set, one of the Highborne would bring a bowl of food. That bowl and its
contents some gruel that Tyrande suspected was the old leftovers from her captors own meals sat untouched on
the floor near the sphere. All Tyrande had to do was tell one of her captors that she was hungry and the sphere
would magically descend. It would then allow the ivory spoon always accompanying the bowl to pass with its
contents through the barrier.
Considering that the Lady Vashj wanted her dead, Tyrande was doubly grateful that she had not eaten anything so
far. Now, however, the cold, congealing substance in the bowl looked very appetizing. A single bite was all that the
priestess would have needed to maintain her strength for another day; the full bowl would have aided her for a
week, maybe more.
But she could not eat without another s assistance and she had no intention of asking. That would be a sign of
weakness the demons would surely exploit.
Someone unlocked the door. Tyrande quickly glanced away from the food, not wanting to give away any hint of her
deteriorating state.
With a grim expression, a guard swung open the door. Through it came a Highborne whom the captive had not met
before. His gaudy robes were resplendent and he clearly was aware of his handsome features. Unlike many of his
caste, he had a rather athletic build. Most arresting, though, were his pale, violet skin and, especially, his hair
auburn with streaks of gold in it, something Tyrande had never seen. Like all Highborne, however, he wore a look
of complete disdain, most prominently when addressing the guard.
Leave us.
The soldier was only too willing to depart the sorcerer s presence. He locked the door behind him, then marched
off.
Holy priestess, the Highborne greeted, with only a hint of the condescension he had granted the guard. You
could make this situation much less uncomfortable for yourself.
I have the Mother Moon to comfort me. I need and desire nothing else.
His expression shifted subtilely, but in it Tyrande caught a glimpse of something that she almost thought remorse. It
was all that she could do keep from being startled by this. She had assumed that the Highborne had all become
slave-like minions of the demon lord and Azshara, but her companion revealed that this might not be so.
Priestess he began.
You may call me Tyrande, she interjected, trying to open him up. Tyrande Whisperwind.
Mistress Tyrande, I am Dath Remar Sunstrider, the Highborne returned, not with a little pride. Twentieth
generation to serve the throne&
A most illustrious lineage. You ve reason to be proud of it.
As I am. Yet, as Dath Remar said this, a shadow momentarily crossed his face. As I should be, he added.
Tyrande saw her opening. Dath Remar clearly wanted something. The Highborne have always been the worthy
keepers of the realm, watching over both the people and the Well. I m sure that your ancestors would find no fault
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