The End of the Night

The Satyr yanked out his claws, letting the Shaman's dim body collapse helplessly.

His face was cold as frost. It was hard to imagine that he had been so arrogant just moments ago; someone had clearly dealt his pride a crushing blow.

Vel'th had already corrupted the Heart of the Storm with the power of the Nightmare, but he would never have imagined that the elemental creature born from that foul heart could still defy its master's will.

The young Shaman had taught him a lesson with courage and sacrifice that Vel'th could never understand.

When the Satyr maliciously ordered his newly born creation to stage a grand, traditional drama of killing its master, the Shaman reclaimed her soul through sheer force of will.

Even as her will rapidly crumbled, the goodness that remained in her could not bear to let her destroy what she cherished. At the final moment, she decisively ended her own life, dying beneath her enemy's claws.

With her last shred of clarity, she reclaimed the dignity of a Tauren.

"An unexpected development..."

"To be honest, I never expected such a surprise."

The Satyr shook his head, putting away the mockery he had maintained all along. Beneath his calm tone, it was not hard to sense the anger brewing, like the stillness before a storm.

The next second, he sent the struggling High Priestess flying with a savage kick. Blood vessels burst across his scarlet eyes.

Conspirators did not anger easily, unless they had been enraged beyond all limits.

"Why can't you lowly mongrels just die obediently?!"

Vel'th was completely enraged. Nightmare energy surged violently, stirring wave after wave of air.

"I wasted ten years for this moment! A whole ten years!!!"

"To obtain this godlike power, I disguised myself as a filthy four-legged beast! Every moment, I had to suppress the urge to slaughter every last one of you!"

"And this is my reward?! Xavius! Is this your mockery?! To let me lose everything when it was already within my grasp!"

Beside himself with rage, he fired waves of Nightmare force in every direction, destroying everything nearby like a madman.

Nearly ten years of planning had come to nothing, ending in such a dramatic fashion when success had been within reach. No matter what, he could not accept it.

He had been only one step away! Just one step away! According to his plan, as long as he sacrificed this elemental, the power of chaos would completely transfer into his body!

And then he would become an omnipotent... god!

But he had failed. With the host's death, that godly might would forever disperse into every corner of the air, and he would never have another chance to obtain it.

The High Priestess staggered as she crawled toward Tally's corpse. She fell to her knees, her hoarse throat producing pitiful choking sounds.

Her blood-soaked hands trembled as she reached out to touch the face that had been burned beyond recognition. Again and again, she called Tally's name, sobbing soundlessly.

Blue crystals spread from the wound in her chest. The High Priestess carefully touched that hideous injury, and the sharp edges pierced her fingers, leaving streaks of blood.

Yet the pain in her fingertips was nowhere near the agony in her heart. Every inch her fingers moved was like an invisible blade stabbing into her despairing heart.

Her suffering multiplied. Amid the demon's fury, she wept silently for a long, long time, until even her muddy tears had run dry.

With her withered hands, she gathered Tally's curled body into her arms as though protecting the most precious treasure. She was so careful, afraid that even the slightest bump would shatter that small, frail body.

"You understand nothing! These noble lives! Their will! Their dignity! You mongrel understand nothing!"

The High Priestess's eyes were red, and the veins of rage looked ready to burst from her eyeballs.

She had lost all reason.

Like a madwoman, she lunged at the demon, clawing, scratching, kicking, gouging, pulling, hurling filthy insults, and spewing a torrent of venomous curses. Then she was kicked away, but she quickly pounced again, like a shrew brawling in the streets. This scene played out again and again, for so long that even its instigator found it tiresome.

The demon curled his lip in disgust, then clenched his left hand in the air. Invisible power gathered into a shockwave and shot toward her, carrying the crushing pressure of death.

As the High Priestess... no, as a Tauren, she would no longer allow herself even the slightest fear of this filthy creature. Even knowing that she would be killed, she would hold her head high and mock her opponent's pettiness and misery.

Bang!

The invisible force sent the High Priestess flying again. Her aged body spun through the air and crashed through a field of broken walls and rubble.

"Your scheme will... will surely fail, because... you have no way... cough, cough... to destroy hope."

"The ancestors... will bless... bless my descendants... They will be like... the rising sun, forever... forever... upon this... land... growing strong..." After countless beatings, she was already at death's door.

The High Priestess's calm acceptance of death enraged Vel'th even further. He raised his hand, ready to kill this irritating old cow, but then suddenly lowered it.

An even more vicious scheme was born in his mind. It was a poisonous plan, revenge for their ignorant resistance. What came next would be torture far beyond death.

"Destroy hope?" The Satyr sneered. "Mortals are such pathetic creatures, laughably stupid and pitifully fragile."

"I've suddenly changed my mind. You may continue living your wretched little life. Be sure to rest well, then welcome the falling of this curtain with all your praise! Welcome this magnificent revenge!"

"The stage has already been set, in the place most familiar to you pitiful people..."

"If you arrive as promised, you will surely witness a performance that brings delight to your heart. Hehehehe... Hahahaha..."

The Satyr laughed arrogantly. Writhing shadows spread from beneath his feet and swallowed Tally's corpse, and then he too vanished into them.

The High Priestess could no longer hold on and fell completely unconscious.

"I harmed her. I harmed my beloved student. If only I could have... could have..."

As the High Priestess recalled that heartbreaking scene once more, tears streamed down her aged face.

She had relived that cruel scene ten thousand times and imagined ten thousand ways to change the future. She would have paid any price, any price at all, to reverse that sorrowful illusion, but the emptiness and grief after awakening always reminded her that it was an unchangeable fact.

No one could travel through time and alter what had already happened, just as no one could create a world of phantoms for the lost to chase after a shattered dream.

It should have been so.

Yet a pair of small, warm hands suddenly reached from behind and gently took the High Priestess's hand.

She turned back in surprise and found the little one lowering his head, silently shedding tears.

It seemed he had endured the hardest part. At least now, he could cry properly.

He had just had a sorrowful dream and said farewell to the person who loved him most. She told him that the dead were gone, and the living had to look ahead.

"I just had a somewhat sad dream, but it was truly a beautiful dream."

The little one's voice was hazy yet real, filled with pain and sorrow and a trace of the happiness of remembrance. It sounded like words spoken in sleep, so light that they seemed ready to drift away the next moment.

"Mother appeared in my dream. We talked about so, so many things..."

Mother, don't go! I still have so, so many things I want to tell you!

I'll never be naughty again. I won't tease Father, and I won't be picky about vegetables—I'll eat them all. I'll bathe often and trim my fur often... I'll listen to everything you say, Mother. So can you promise me? Can you stay with me a little longer?

"At dawn, she was going to leave. She told me that she still had very, very important things to do..."

Good child, don't be afraid. There will never be loneliness in your life. This is Mother's prophecy, and Mother's promise!

This world is very, very hard, but you are a kind, good child. Many, many good people will surely appear by your side. With them there, you will never be alone...

"I held her hand and begged her not to leave. Even if it was only a dream, how desperately I wished it would not end..."

But I still hurt so much. My heart hurt as though it were splitting apart. I know you want me to be strong, and I promised to listen to you, but I truly don't know whether I can do it...

"Mother said that I definitely could, because I am Tally Whitehorn's son. I inherited the bravest part of her, so I definitely could do it..."

Was that Mother's prophecy too?

The young Tauren with beautiful platinum-white fur smiled and nodded.

The little Tauren asked timidly, with a trace of hope, Then... can we... can we meet again in dreams?

Tally kissed her son's forehead and said softly with an encouraging smile, We certainly can!

Little Sian raised his head, as though savoring the beautiful image and voice from that dream, or reliving one precious memory after another.

"Mother smiled and told me that I would not be alone. She was only sorry that she could not keep walking with me, and she hoped I could forgive her."

"But I never blamed her. That seemed to trouble her a little, but also make her a little happy. So she very carefully asked me not to hate you, not to hate her teacher."

"I refused her, because I never hated Grandma. Maybe I hated her a tiny bit, truly only a tiny bit, but I don't hate her anymore."

"Mother liked you very much, and I like you very much too, so I know... I know that you must have loved Mother very, very much too."

Hearing those words, the High Priestess's body trembled slightly, like a withered branch in an autumn wind.

"Hearing that made Mother very happy, so she stayed a little longer. We watched a sunrise together. It was such a beautiful, beautiful sunrise. She said it was an omen, that we would surely overcome this hardship."

"So... you must not blame yourself too much either."

"Mother's final request was that Father and I should not grieve too much. I give those words to you as well. We still have things left unfinished. We still have to... look ahead."

Do not grieve. Do not grieve...

The High Priestess's chest and back were already soaked through with tears.

Aldo had never married, spending every day of his life with the wilderness. Yet now, he too wished he had warm arms to lean on.

He casually glanced at the companion beside him, and for some reason, an old dream from a summer long ago suddenly came to mind.

That dream had once been within reach, but now it was impossibly distant.

With a sigh, he turned his gaze back to the black sky. There, a white figure flew alone through the heavens: his closest companion.

A faint bright red glow showed through the black canopy of the sky, perhaps the first glimmer of light before dawn.

Tamara quietly moved behind Liman, perhaps not wanting them to see how red her eyes had become.

There was already enough sorrow in this place. There was no need to add hers to it.

She wrapped her arms around the silent Baine and the softly sobbing Xiao Na. Suddenly, she missed Cairne terribly. Though they had not been apart for long, this day had felt so endlessly long.

Before dawn on this cold winter day, how many people sought comfort in one another, longing to be warmed, while warming each other in return.