The Road Goes On Until We Drift Apart

The cave was enormous; otherwise, it couldn't have housed so many Gryphons. Perhaps it was because dragons often visited Dragonblight—after all, those giants slept in caves, too. But Leiluo's theory went unconfirmed, since he found nothing in the cave that had anything to do with dragons.

As Leiluo watched the flickering flowers of light, he suddenly found himself lost in thought. On the very day the Gryphons arrived, news had come from Kalimdor: large numbers of High Elves had moved from Quel'Thalas to Ratchet. Supplies were now being gathered from across the region to provide for them. Garrosh, however, hadn't returned. The High Elves had no intention of handing over Silvermoon City for nothing, so Garrosh, sent as reinforcements, had stayed behind as well. After deliberation, the Watchers Council had ultimately agreed to Garrosh's request.

Leiluo had no objections when he heard the news. By common sense, withdrawing the troops at a time like this would have been understandable. But accepting something was one thing; having reservations about it was another. The Horde had already sent a fleet to wait at Quel'Thalas's port, ready to evacuate any troops retreating from Silvermoon City. Gude had even gone there in person with an army to hold the port, preserving an escape route for Silvermoon City.

Though everything had been arranged, a single remark from Vereesa, standing nearby, sent Leiluo tumbling into memories—memories from both his former world and this one, from the time he'd spent in Dun Morogh.

"Are my sisters still in Silvermoon City?"

"Yes. Both Windrunner generals stayed in Silvermoon City."

For the Horde, this was of little consequence. The High Elves hadn't joined the Horde, and as their ally, the Horde had already done more than enough. It hadn't even recalled Garrosh's troops. But for Leiluo, the news mattered