Deren walked along Suramar's mirror-smooth streets, with Azshara and Onyxia linked through his arms on either side. Thalyssra followed half a step behind, wearing an impeccably respectful smile as she served as their guide, though her gaze kept flickering toward Deren, trying to read something from the face of this seemingly ordinary "short-lived race."
They passed through a riverside promenade, admiring the exquisite buildings and water views on both sides. One or two elegantly shaped boats were moored along the banks from time to time. Deren gradually lost himself in the scenery, chatting and laughing with Onyxia. Aegwynn occasionally offered her own thoughts as well. It was as though the earlier atmosphere of drawn swords had never existed.
The Duskwatch efficiently cleared the streets. The frightened Nightborne citizens were kept behind distant colonnades and courtyards, leaving behind only empty splendor and silence. It lent the wondrous sight before them an unreal haze.
"Look, Deren. This domed hall would have counted as a masterpiece even in my era." Azshara raised a slender finger and pointed toward a magnificent structure in the distance, built from violet crystals and silvery-white stone. Massive statues stood at each of its four corners, representing the finest craftsmanship of that ancient age.
Now that the Magic Barrier had vanished, sunlight could pass through the crystal dome, refracting into dreamlike halos that spilled across the winding streets. The air was thick with the fragrance of spices and rare flowers, the scent of ten thousand years of Nightborne luxury.
Onyxia gave a soft snort. She seemed unimpressed by such refined magical creations, but her grip on Deren's arm tightened slightly, as if saying: No matter how beautiful this place was, it could not compare to the warmth and family of home in Theramore.
What interested her more were the